Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Byte Night 2012

Byte Night is the IT industry sleep-out to raise vital funds for Action for Children to help tackle the root causes of youth homelessness.

At least 75,000 children and young people experience homelessness each year, and of those, 1 in 3 will attempt suicide and 1 in 7 will be physically or sexually assaulted.

Action for Children works to prevent youth homelessness through early intervention by ensuring that young people across the UK are given the support they need before it’s too late.

To help raise money for Action for Children me and a team of 6 other water factory workers will be sleeping out on the streets of Reading on 6 October. Please give some cash to help this cause, even if it is just £1.

Sponsor me please http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/KirstyTelling.
Find out more about Byte night http://www.bytenight.org.uk/
Find out more about Action for Children http://my.actionforchildren.org.uk/

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Hopeless romantics

My tattoos (again), I have been looking for a way to explain what they mean. Cos they don't mean anything, and they mean everything.

And here it is, via this article called Forever mine: The rise of the Maori tribal tattoo.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-19628418

This is the last few words;"Taia o moko, hei hoa matenga mou" (Inscribe yourself, so you have a friend in death).

Because it is forever.

The sentence immediately struck a cord with me. That is it, I am always looking for forever. The hopeless romantic declaring there is a light that never goes out.

When I look around the tattooed community on the interwebs and in real life a lot of the members of the super cool tattoo club seem to be of similar frame of mind. Not pouring their hearts out on a blog necessarily but alluding to their true loves being lost at sea.

We are the idealists,the sentimental, the dreamers and the imaginative.

I believe in passion and true love, chivalry and adventures. I am nostalgic for a bygone era of gentlemen and tea dances. I'm not even sure it existed. But it does in my head. A place where relationships are about courtship, enchantment and fascination. friendships were about loyalty, sincerity, support.

I feel beautiful with him. The one from my fairy tale. This takes me full circle. What do they mean. Nothing, everything. I feel they are my beautiful art, a constant in my life where I do not expect anything, even love, to stay with me.

Nostalgia (n)

A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past.
A wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition.


Monday, September 17, 2012

Real women?

I'm making a stand, not just for the slimmer girl, but I am hoping to make a stand for all the shapes of ladies and possibly men too.

I don't know where I was recently. I forgot like I forget most things however what I do remember is some woman ranting on about 'real women'.

  • What I learned is: 
  • Real women have curves
  • Real women have boobs
  • men like a bit of something to grab on to
  • Real women are size 12
  • Some other bull shit.

These real women sound fascinating. Lets face it, all women have some kind of hang up on their bodies and it turns out men do too but don't really go on about it as much. The size or shape of a body does not make a woman more or less fictional. You don't have to make excuses for being a larger lady than me. This real woman thing does not interest me in the slightest. If I were to listen to all this bullshit I would be unreal but, not like, in a gnarly way:

  • I don't have curves
  • I don't have boobs
  • why are they hanging on? is this cliffhanger (classically shite film)
  • I'm not size 12
  • blah blah blah

I guess we all have views of our ideal when it comes to women but the word  real does not really fit in. How about ladies, we all stop talking shit out how one another looks and maybe do as the great philosopher HD says and get naked.

Some suicide lovelies
If you were to ask me what my ideal was, how I would want to look, it would be tattooed and comfortable in who I am.

I am tattooed, yes, but am I comfortable, no. I am more so these days. I spent a lot of my life being hung up on the fact that I am flat chested and I hate my legs. I bloody hate them. But they are mine. My bodily hang ups haven't really ever stopped me doing anything in life, nor should they.

It has been a long time since I have looked at another woman and thought "I want to look like her" cos, well, I look like me and what is the point wishing for things I really can't have. I would prefer to spend my time dreaming of the things I already have that make me happy. i guess I do spend a lot of time trawling beautiful images of tattoos wanting them, but they are attainable, so that's OK.

I am not trying to preach to you ladies, I know my words are not going to change your thinking. I know you are going to be holding them few inches on you belly and feeling unhappy with it. Or doing the lady down bounce to get your jeans on cos you really are still size 8. I think my point is, stop wanting the bodies of other women and stop thinking not nice thoughts of that lady that walked past, you can't be her.

Keep it foolish. Check out the website, yeah? It’s well fuckin’ futile.

Monologue of a broken heart

Lana Del Ray


And I remember when I met him, it was so clear that he was the only one for me. We both knew it, right away. And as the years went on, things got more difficult- we were faced with more challenges.

I begged him to stay. Try to remember what we had at the beginning.

He was charismatic, magnetic, electric and everybody knew it. When he walked in every woman’s head turned, everyone stood up to talk to him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn’t contain himself. I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him.

And in that way I understood him and I loved him. I loved him, I loved him, I loved him.

And I still love him. I love him~

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Adventure time end song

The song from the end of Adventure Time is Christmas Island by Lake.
This is such a cool song. You must love it.

Come along with me
To a place beside the sea
We can wander through the forest
And do so as we please

Come along with me
To a cliff under a tree
Where we can gaze upon the water
As an everlasting dream

All of my affections
I give them all to you
Maybe by next summer
We won't have changed our tunes

I still want to be
In this place beside the sea
Making up new numbers
And living so merrily

All of my affections
I give them all to you
I'm eager for you always
And always keep for you

Come along with me
To a place beside the sea
We can wander through the forest
And do so as we please
Living so merrily

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

The ups and downs of the depressive mind

Yes I am still depressed. Some times more than others.
When I feel myself going to a real low I get a tattoo (or two)
An incident today feels a bit like a kick in the teeth, I just want to hide under my covers and give up again. I feel teary and have taken to eating far too many malteasers. They are nice though.
Things have been going great lately. Wonderful friends being wonderful and doing fun things with them. Super awesome man who says lovely things. Work is, well, work. Got a lovely photoshoot booked up to make me rich and famous.
Then I had to go see a medical professional. One with no previous knowledge of me and only a short understanding of my medical history.
The session went well, 45 minutes of telling me I have issues that I really should speak to a counsellor about mixed with probing questions and some quite good advice.
The session ended on this though "you do look rebellious though, that might be your problem, do you dress that way for work?"  It felt like being kicked in the teeth. I know I am judged on my appearance. I know I judge others on their appearance. It's a fact of life that we cannot avoid. But for a medical professional who I assumed was looking to help me with conditions that sometimes get the better of me it was shocking.
Being sat in work this afternoon has been a lonely place. Feeling that I don't fit in. I even researched in how to get my orange/ginger/blonde hair to a 'normal' brown. Maybe I should just try and conform more. I am nearly 30, I should really grow up.
The thing is I know they way I look isn't for everyone and it really doesn't bother me. The people I care about know who I am and know I will go on decorating my skin and doing stupid things to my hair.
So, the point was I feel down. I know I am feeling the way that tends to lead me to be in bed for a long time. I am sure my lovely flat mate won't let that happen as she loves getting me out of bed, I think it is her hobby.
Anyway, got them tattoos booked. Getting a couple of new ones on Saturday 22nd.

Monday, September 3, 2012

An open letter to the males of Swindon

I went out on Saturday. I go out a lot. I don't go out-out though. However this past Saturday out turned in to out-out. I don't like it. I feel uncomfortable, like I don't fit in. I don't feel I can be myself. And will people ever get over the shock of 'I don't drink'?

I was having a jolly evening until someone decided we leave our reserved table at our pub that we seem to live in and go to a bar.

Upon arriving at this bar it was duely noted that they are playing the same mix cd they were playing when they first opened a good few years ago now. They still have the same miserable, past it, community centre disco dj pretending to mix. They still have the worlds most miserable bar staff and
air con seems to have passed them by.

This is where my letter begins:

Men, men of Swindon, (well I am sure this applies to a lot of places) you mustn't behave how you do. I enjoy people watching. looking how others behave and interact. I watched how a lot of you behaved whilst out drinking and it was really not pretty to watch. I happened to be out with a very pretty, blonde, big boobed lady. You lot were disgusting, staring at her and thinking you could invade her personal space. One of you even thought the chat up line "I was in a lynx advert you know" would work on her. Luckily you were brilliantly put down with the reply "what they guy with the hairy back?"
Try changing your look as well, red chinos and a jumper with a picture of a naked lady on are not the height of fashion. There are more shops out there than Topshop.
The 'lad' behaviour is getting a little old now. Picking each other up and throwing each other round isn't just annoying, I really don't appreciate a foot with poorly chosen footwear in my face.
It's time to be gentlemen.

It's not scathing, it's not men hating. I bet that is what you were expecting. I don't hate men. I'm not one of those crazy feminist. In fact i spend most of my time with my male friends. But if they started acting you like motherfuckers I would totally cut them out. After all I am the glue that holds the group together.