The problem with people today…

Ok. Extreme rant coming. So I was on the bus on my way home today and an old man gets on. He clearly has trouble walking, let alone standing and yet nobody gives up their seat. He’s looking around for somewhere to sit. I was sitting at the back where there were a couple of seats spare but at the front, nobody has the impetus to offer their seat. Because I was brought up right, I get up and head towards the front to tell him he can have my seat.

At the same time, someone else gets up to get off the bus towards the front. Fabulous, the old man has somewhere to sit, right? Wrong. A woman sitting with a kid in her lap and another kid on the seat next to her gestures to her third child (around 7 or 8) to take the newly available seat. So I step in and say that maybe the old man should sit there instead. After all, her child is perfectly capable of remaining standing, more so than the old man. An argument ensues.

In the end I told her to do one and pretty much ordered the old man to sit down. Meanwhile, I’m getting a torrent of abuse from this woman. She resorts to personal insults (obviously highly intelligent) but I get the last word, telling her she should be ashamed and should be more concerned about setting a good example to her kids. That shut her trap.

It makes me so angry. What the actual fuck is wrong with people these days? How can you have no respect for your elders? And in giving her a piece of my mind I hope everyone else who stayed seated felt ashamed. I am NOT a racist person, not by any means, but the area I live in is heavily populated by people from a cluster of African countries. And it’s probably the only area in London I’ve seen where people actively push you out of the way to get on an empty bus and other such unsociable things, shout, spit and snort snot from their noses onto the pavement, or floor of a bus/tube. It might be normal where she comes from to behave like that but for me, it’s not.

How’s about learning some respect for other people and your surroundings. This is what’s wrong with society today, people just don’t give a crap about anyone else. I hope when she’s old and decrepit that she’s the one standing on a full bus with a driver who thinks he’s in the formula one.

Twat.

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Waiting and Depressed Cats

I spoke to The Frenchman this morning. It looks like he wont be able to come to London before the end of the year after all. He said he wanted to, but he doesn’t have a weekend free. I’m trying not to be too disappointed – I know how hard it can be to find time in December. He said he wants to come in early-mid January for a weekend of 4-5 days, work permitting. He also said he’s excited to see me in ten days time, when we can talk about my extended trip which is good because I’ll need to give notice of my leave at work. From what he said last time, he’s going skiing for a week in early February (I think) so I’d most likely go towards the end of February or early March.

It’s great that we’re still planning this. As every woman who’s in the early stages of dating knows, talking about stuff ‘in the future’ is always a good sign. I’m just not looking forward to a 4-6 week gap over the holidays. It’s not so much about being ‘single’ over the festive season, to be honest that’s never really bothered me. Granted, I’ve been in a relationship for lots of christmasses, but I’m not the kind of girl who craves being in a loved ones arms over this period of time. And given that we’re in different countries, I’m not sure it would make much difference anyway! It’s just a long time to wait.

I’ve always been a bit of a…I’m not sure what the term is. Not a pessimist. Hmm. OK, I’ll try and explain. When I fly somewhere, I’m always convinced that it’ll be my plan that falls out of the sky. If I’m on holiday, driving up a mountain on tiny roads, I’ll be convinced that the car will topple over the side. If I’m on a boat…you get my drift. It’s really weird, but that’s how I am. I’m one of those whose trying my best to ignore all this 2012 doomsday Mayan calendar stuff, which is a lot easier now than when I was with my ex, who positively LOVED that stuff, and frequently said he couldn’t wait for some kind of apocalypse to happen (yes, he was weird). So it’s in my nature to worry about things, the fact that 1 in 3 people are affected by cancer, or panicking when I don’t hear from someone for a while incase they’ve been run over or something. I’m a cheery person really. I’m just a worrier. And for the last few weeks, this has been really heightened.

It sounds so twattish to say it, but I feel like I’ve become more aware of my own mortality. I don’t mean I’m going around worried about dying, just that how precious time is. I’ve never liked waiting for anything anyway but lately I’ve been thinking, time is going by so quickly and HE’S over THERE. What if I die, or he dies, between now and our next meeting. It’s an awful thing to think and I try really hard to shove it out of my head, but it does sneak back in quite often. What does this mean? Other than I’m a total fruitloop, that is.

In happier (kind of) news, he told me that his cat was ‘not right’ last week. He apparently didn’t see him in the evenings after work as he’d be hiding under the bed or sofa. He thinks his cat was depressed after I went back to London. Which made me go ‘awwww’. You know what they say, win over the cat, bag the man.

Actually, I just made that up but you get the drift.

Delusion and moving on

I just had a hilarious telephone conversation with the girlfriend of my Ex’s best friend. Apparently he went round there and told them that  I’d texted him to go for a drink but he said no because he was convinced I wanted him back. Don’t make me laugh. I had texted in the early summer and asked if he wanted to go for a drink after our conversation, purely because I thought even though we weren’t together any more, we had spent almost ten years together and still evidently cared for each other. We didn’t meet up but it was no skin off my nose. So he’s told them he thinks I want to get back together with him and that I must still be miserable having made the biggest mistake of my life by leaving him. Oh and he was bitching because I went to Ibiza after having said I’d never go there, ever, and why couldn’t I have done that with him?

I had to laugh. Getting back with him has to be the very last thing on my mind and I don’t know where he’s getting the impression that I’m miserable. When I do see him, I’m always bouncy and happy, and that’s not fake. I am genuinely loving my life and having him in it as a friend, or not, makes no difference to me. I went to Ibiza without him because if I’d have gone with him, he’d have spent 90% of the time high. And as for me making the biggest mistake of my life by leaving, considering he’s still in exactly the same place as he was a year, two years, three years ago, I’d say it was the best thing I’ve ever done. When I look at what I’ve done this year – the nights out, my trips to Ireland, Ibiza and Toulouse, even taking my first flight alone – I feel proud. I’m actually living my life instead of watching it pass me by, whereas he is still wasting his weekends away with a cocktail of drugs. The fact that he’s still doing this, coupled with the fact he thinks I’m the one who made the mistake, tells me he’s learned nothing. Zero. Zilch. I can imagine he’s done nothing more exciting than try meth for the first time.

He has, at least, moved on. When I blogged about his ketamine and meth usage earlier in the year, I mentioned that he’d been sleeping with his drug buddy’s sister. It now seems they’re actually a couple. She does cocaine too, which is obviously not a good thing, but I’m happy for him. It makes no bearing on my life to know this and I do still care about his happiness after all. I will admit to being a bit miffed when she told me he apparently said he wanted to marry and have kids with her though. Not out of jealousy, but because I thought ‘why not me?’. Obviously, getting married and having kids with him would have been a colossal mistake, but I put in so much bloody effort with him. Ten years of battling the ignorance, underlying racism and non-acceptance from some of his family, putting up with his drug use, running errands like a bitch and being a good little housewife, and after a few months with his new chick, he’s actually thinking of settling down. It made me feel second best until I realised that it’s probably because it’s so much easier for him. His Kosovan family will love her white-ness and because she uses drugs too, she’s always going to be on his wavelength and understand the chase and the buzz of getting off her face. And if that is the  case then good luck to him, I guess.

The fact is, I know now that I deserve so, so much more than what I got. I deserve someone who will put me first, instead of being domineering and chauvinistic. I deserve someone who’d do anything for me, the same way I would for them. And I want a guy who isn’t an habitual drug taker. I’m not the same girl. To put it in Gotye’s words, I’m just somebody that he used to know.

After all the heartache, ups and downs and questioning if I made the right move by leaving, I’ve moved on. I’m happy, which is just about all I could ask for right now. I’m enjoying my life and learning from my mistakes all the time. And I can honestly say that leaving him wasn’t one of them. If anything, my mistake was staying in the relationship and trying to make it work for so long. If he ever comes out of his drugged up haze and off his know-it-all high horse, he’ll realise that.

As someone once said, ‘I’m not the girl that got away. I’m the girl you failed to keep.’

Quarter Life Crisis

I’m in a strange mood today. Well, I’m a bit strange most of the time, but today I’m in a particularly strange mood. For some time now I’ve felt like my life has been stagnating, which I guess has been made worse by my splitting with the Ex. For a long time, I’ve held a distant dream of travelling but it’s now developing into a serious want, which isn’t helped by my awful penchant for impatience. In fact, it’s getting to me so much that I’m blogging from work, something I’ve actively tried to avoid.

It was something I’d discussed often with the Ex but we had wildly different views. His idea of travelling contained way more adrenaline than mine. He wanted to go trekking in rainforests and hiking up mountains and to be honest, I’m a little too chicken for that. I just want to see the world, without having a near death experience, so we never made plans to travel together since he’d only get annoyed at my reluctance to hike up a mountain because of my ridiculous fear that I’d slip, fall back down again and die.

There’s a couple of things that have brought about this current bout of…wanting. One, was a post I’d read on BAExpat’s page, which I came across as it was ‘Freshly Pressed’ (lucky thing). I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since and I’d recommend the read: http://baexpat.com/2012/02/16/the-most-important-thing-youll-ever-learn/. He’s doing what I wish I was…

The other thing is my career. I have a great job but I’m getting more and more bored. My problem is that to move on in my chosen field (which is specialist), I need more qualifications. I left school at 16 and went straight to work. No college, no uni. The qualifications I have above GCSE level are either NVQ or professional qualifications, but not at the required level for me to achieve my ultimate goal of working abroad and earning a decent wage. Nor are they enough for me to leave my current job and go into another specialist role at the same level or salary. And to be honest, the thought of applying for and starting another job in London just depresses me right now. After some investigation, it looks like the course I’ll need to take to get me to a decent standard lasts about 2 years, at a cost of £10k. My company would pay for it, but it means I’d have to stay here for another 2 years once it’s completed. That’s 4 more years working here. The twist is that within the next 18 months, it looks increasingly likely that there’ll be a massive reorganisation which means the threat of redunancy. And the draw of taking redundancy money, which would be great. It means I’d be able to pay off my debt and travel without worrying about sustaining an income to pay my bills. The downside? If I study, my company would take the cost of the course out of that lump sum. Not so good since it would likely eat up most of, if not all of the money.

In an ideal world, I’d wait it out, hope for the redunancy money, pay my bills off and get out of here. But then it doesn’t solve the issue that when I get back, I’d still have to study to get to a decent level in my field.

What to do, what to do?

I don’t want to study for another 2 years and then not be able to travel. A lot can happen in 2 years. I look at my friends getting married and having babies, and it’s the last thing I want. Well, it isn’t. Of course I want to settle down and stuff, but you know what I mean. I’m free and single for the first time in almost 10 years and I feel like I should be doing something with my life. Who knows what could happen. I could meet a really great guy, my soulmate, and get married and start popping out babies in 2 years time. I’ve seen it happen with my friends. But equally, my sensible head is saying that I need to get this qualification. It’s something that would set me up for the next x years of my working life.

The other thing about travelling, is that it would push me out of my comfort zone. I can be naturally shy and tend to stick to routine. I don’t like to eat from dodgy places. I like comfort. But I wasn’t always like this. I used to be outgoing and gregarious. I want to be that person again. It feels like I AM this person inside, but I’ve supressed her for so long that I don’t know how to find her again. I hate that I didn’t do what everyone else did. If I’d have gone to college and uni, I’d have the qualifications I need already. If I’d have gone travelling when I was younger, I’d not feel so lost right now. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret committing to a long term relationship at the tender age of 17 – I’ve learnt a hell of a lot. It’s just that it feels like its come at a price. Namely, my life.

The thing is, it feels like I’m running out of time. The longer I put off studying, the harder it will be to progress in my career. But the longer I put off travelling, the less likely it will be to happen. It feels like this is one of those moments in my life where I have a crucial decision to make, like I’m on the cusp of…I dunno…something. Or maybe I’m just putting too much pressure on myself and doing what I tend to do…over analyse.

Oh, life.

And apologies, I think this is the first whingy post I’ve done. Shall not be making a habit of it!