One of 'those' weeks - continued.

Well it seems I can top the last post in oddities.

I'm going to be an aunt in eight weeks.

To cut a long story short - my younger brother moved out suddenly about a year ago. He became very strange, distant. Aggressive at times. Mostly he felt like a stranger. He was caught in tiny little lies at times. We wondered why. Drugs came up but was shot down - he's not really the type we thought. I once asked him if his female roommate, 'just a friend' was pregnant. He said no. He kept denying they were any kind of couple.

Phone call last night, she's pregnant. Due in eight weeks. It's his.

Well. I'm almost happy in a way, sitting here sipping beer wondering if the stress of this secret was the cause for his change. Will I have my brother back? He was my best friend too until his change. In Christmas 2006, before he changed, I slaved away for months at Gamestation to buy him a ps2, guitar hero and singstar hehe. I'd always promised him when he was younger, year after year, that I'd get him a gameboy. Thing is 50p a week pocket money didn't stretch quite that far so... well it felt damn good to finally treat him. Like keeping the promise in a weird way.

Now I'm just in a blather I know. God help me it's a bit out the blue. I always thought it was me that'd end up with an unwanted pregnancy, hell since the end of secondary school I went from celebrated genius to constant fuck up. Not that this kids unwanted, I mean, sure I doubt it was planned but my brother is responsible in other ways. He'd make a good father. Hell, he moved out and has supported the young girl since - even insisted she continue with college. He works two jobs at the moment. He gets up at 6 (sometimes earlier) and goes to the paintball range. Think he gets back about 6 from that. Then at 7 he goes to work at a bar until 1. Then does it all over again.

I've been a bit jealous the past year of how proud my parents are of him - dad talks about him constantly to everyone. But since when have I shown as hard work as that? He deserves people to be proud of him.

So. My mum nearly had a fit when he quit his job at the animal shelter (yes my brother even worked unpaid charity). She wouldn't let anyone talk about it, cried loads. I got very angry at that because when he quit, my brother needed support - he'd been accused of an animals death, some doves. Someone else did it and when he recieved an apology, he still wouldn't go back. I've seen my brother cry alot, but not swear. He was banging his head against the wall. I think he never stopped blaming himself - he's pretty sensitive although you wouldn't think to look at him. Well I spoke to mum on the phone and barely said 'dad told me' and I could hear tears.

I'm worrying about my older sister too. Her (she's 38ish) and her partner have been on IVF repeatedly - I think they've spent about £16k on it. They're on another cycle at the moment. To find the youngest sibling has got a kid coming - and so soon - well I don't know. I hope it doesn't upset her further.

Looks like I'm buying this.

So there we go. A big blather. Don't know how to feel. Pissed off he lied? Happy maybe we can repair our close friendship? Even a little jealous in a messed up way that he has a job, a life, a kid soon - and I'm the older one living at home as a jobless bum? God knows. I'm waiting for him to call soon, find out more. I hope he's okay.

Really I just miss my brother so much.

One of 'those' weeks

I discovered I backed up more files than I realised, but I still lost my most recent story. I've spent the week trying to rewrite it (although mostly just having a tantrum that I'm not as good as I want to be) but after finding the task increasingly frustrating, decided I may be better off putting it on the shelf for later and doing something else.

My biggest problem is at 22 with little practice at my craft compared to what I perhaps should have done, I berate myself constantly for not being 'bestseller standard' already.

This week has been one of 'those' weeks though. When something goes wrong in this house, everything else does too. The day after my computer tantrumed, the boiler broke. We've had an estimate for two thousand five hundred pounds worth of work (reinstalling a suitable tank or something as well since we'll need a new one? I forget). We may have found a way to get it working for two hundred pounds, but it's a gamble as to whether it works. Still seems the better option.

The day after that the protective plastic barrier stopping the car engine getting dirty broke. So we've had to replace that. The cats been vomiting a lot. The neighbours say he fought off some seagulls for a discarded turkey in their back garden.

Plus side, we won a tenner on the lottery. I remember when the lottery started everyone seemed to win tenners. Not so much anymore though.

Anyway. Tired. Going to leave with another picture of my gorgeous one.

Or not. Now blogger seems to be broken. Terrific.

/argh!

This is a little bit of a rant. My computer has blown. I've lost the vast majority of my recent writing. I'm currently struggling to make the damn thing recognise my computer has speakers.

/woe.

Bright side, maybe it's fate and will turn out better after.

Buttercup goes a little faster

Welcome to 101 reasons I should not be a writer. Behold:

1. His walk around the busy spinning plate was effortless and every so often he paused to tug on a horses pole.

Seriously. It happens to everyone, right?

Buttercup goes slow

I just googled myself. The first result was about breeding catfish.

I can't write a word these past few days. My fairground creation, Buttercup goes faster, is staring at me. I feel so guilty.

This is love.

In case there was ever any doubt, this is someone I do love very much. This is Suggs, the cat that knocked on the door and just wouldn't f*** off.




Heartbreaker, isn't he?

What the hell is love?

I've been thinking about love.

When I was a teenager I became addicted to books by a writer called Lisa Jane Smith. I started reading, thinking that she was a young adult horror writer (the library labelling) but I soon enough found she wrote supernatural romance. I kept my obsession with her quite quiet. Most of her books focused on the idea of soulmates.

Seems insane to think that out there, there is one perfect person just made for you. I think it's natural to want that in some ways, something solid and unconditional. I'm sure in fact that unconditional love is probably bad for the soul - to have someone put up with anything and everything you decide to do? I doubt most people would mentally grow past the turbulence of their teens if this was the case. There would be more violence domestically for one. People can be selfish.

So, anyway. I guess I'm not really sure why I'm writing this or what my point is entirely. I was thinking though, although I don't believe in love as a magical zap - two people linked - can't be otherwise sort of way, there are millions and millions of people in the world. There's going to be at least one that ticks all the boxes you need surely? And people do pick favourites in life, it's pretty much guaranteed in my mind that someone would come out on top as 'the one', the best. And with that, well, personal relationships are forged on interaction and joint chemistry. The best fun to be had is with someone who is genuinely having fun with you. In my mind this makes it highly likely that if you do find 'the one' for you, the very fact you're happy with them is likely reflected. Maybe that's what makes a soulmate.

I guess this weighing up the odds approach isn't very romantic at all to most people. But I think it's better than the conventional daydream of - zap - connection - love. Because, well loving the right person may not be a choice per se, but it's a nicer thought to think there is a choice there. You can love someone because they make you happy, because they are kind or funny or strong. Because they always look on the bright side or actually regret it if they ever make you hurt. It beats up winding up with the villians of lifes story just 'because it's meant to be'. I think I'd rather be unromantic and love for a reason than be a romantic and love just 'because'.

People equate drama with love - we fight because there's passion. Maybe, maybe not. I always thought being happy was the start of love and indeed, the finish to strive for.

Well that's a mess of something I've been thinking about lately. I'm not even sure it follows well, I won't read it because I'll probably delete it from the embarrassment of the ramble. It's time I posted something I've been thinking about rather than directly book related things.