How can someone with dyslexia keep up with following even the most nominal selection of blogs, or am I destined to be left out of the loop as usual? Any advice gratefully received

I suppose I oughta

I kinda got to thinking that if I'm going to leave dissing comments on other peoples blogs I should at least give other people the chance to do the same to me. And seeing that I'm indoors alone yet again on a saturday night, all the evidence points to the fact that I have nothing better to do ( apart from a dissertation) so I shall renew my blog.

Ex- roomie that I alway used to argue with invited me to go to a burlesque club night that I've been wanting to go to for ages but it was just after I said yes to doing an early shift in the mentalist hospital so my ageing, sensible side ruled my life yet again. So here I sit again inpenetribly lonesome listening to the rain mimick the sound of the tears in my soul.

I have just realisd that there is a high chance that I have Borderline Personality Disorder. This means that chance is that I will always feel this way. God, when I was young I so wanted to be like Marilyn Monroe. I don't get the beauty, fame, adoration or paved star on The Strip. No, I get the disturbed personal life and the insurmountable mental torture. Just goes to show, be careful what you wish for.

BDP is such a honed in illness in the that it seems quite specific and yet still describes a whole section of society. Soon there be an official psychiactric disorder called The *insert your name* Disorder.

The worst thing about working in a mentalist hospital is that although I may possibly be the most mentally disturbed person in my own life ( now that the competition has successfully bumped themselves off) I am small fry compared to these severely whacked people. They seriously cast me in the shade. I can't even be that best at being mentally ill! When will I find something that i can do better than any body else?

My issues are another issue

FOUR THINGS I DID THIS WEEK THAT I'VE WANTED TO DO FOR AGES (some of them for years/ most of my life)

1) Told sperm donor part of my being ('father' seems too hyperbolic) to fuck of out of my life (before I'd got round to asking him to lend me some money. Doh).

2) Had a blood-stirring row with roomie about all the things she does that have been upsetting me (before the party she had invited me to. Doh).
I was determined not to let it end until we had resolved it, which we did. However, she tried to deflect the problem back to me- Why I let such things (unsanctioned borrowing, losing, owing, messing) wind me up me is a completely separate issue and one for me to sort out myself. End of.

3) Brushed off Toyboy in a long uninterruptible email (with limited success).
Sounds harsh but, trust me, he would have come up with a million justifications if I had done it in person and, let’s face it, hot loving is hard to walk away from.

4) Instigated a set-to in a shop that began with the sentence 'Come on, Lady...' at someone at the front of a queue paying the bill one copper penny at a time, the wait causing me to drop my shopping. The Bickle in me would not take it anymore. This is London after all. It also acted as a good decoy so as not to have to pay for broken yogurt.

I thoroughly enjoyed each and every one of them.

A fork in the road

Starting my very own blog is just like being at school again. All alone with no friends to play with. Kicking cobblestones out in the wilderness, watching everybody else buddying up and having fun. I've had a look around and I have a funny feeling that, just like school, I'm gonna fall in with a bad bunch. There are an awful lot of wronguns out there.

I started this spot at a time when I feel a small tide changing in me. For many years I have been a woman on the edge (my deititian told me so). I AM Ms Bickle. ''Here is a woman.. here is a woman that would not take it any more'' (sic). I have alot of anger and, like lots of crap in my life, I don't want it. The feelings mutual. It wants out. Now, I do more than a sizable amount of moaning in my real life. I like it. I'm good at it. I like people best that I can have a good, long, whinging moan with. With one paticular friend it's a sport and we set aside whole weekends to indulge. I am a first class ranter, also. But I'm starting to notice that most people don't like it and at times I do feel like a bit of a twat when I'm doing it to people with far more on their plate than me yet never moan.

I made a decision to give it up, or at least keep it to an absolute minimum. I know I can moan and rant so I can tick that off my skills to learn list and I didn't feel the need to do it on a blog. But the problem is I really, really like it. It appeals to my dark sense of humour and it upsets me that other people don't get the irony of it. My favourite topic to moan about (and all areas for that matter) is myself. I see it as a great way of laughing at myself and seeing the funny side of what I perceive to be a poorly dealt hand. But others don't see it that way. They don't get the joke. Unfortunately for my plans, there's a wealth of blogs that love to moan and rant and these are the ones I love the most. What to do?

That's another one of my bad traits. Indecisiveness.

Oh, and academic revoke.

Just thought of another one but the list could get too long.

Sorry- such a spurious word

People keep saying sorry to me. It's starting to really piss me off.

Yes, I know I have been very guilty of gratuitous apologising in the past and now it seems I'm being paid back with interest. Two of the closest people to me at the moment keep saying sorry unnessessarily for things, like asking me a question or sitting down. This pisses me off because it requires something from me. It requires me to say something in return like 'that's alright' and, quite frankly, I can't be bothered, so I've stopped. Now, if I need to say 'that's alright', then what's the point? If I need to say 'that's not alright', then that's a whole new conversation which I often don't actually have the time for.

The two main offenders in my life are the people who actually have far more important reasons to say sorry to me, such as always stealing and losing my belongings or wasting my time or breaking my heart. On a more subconscious level I think it really pisses me off because I sense it's a manifestation of their culpability which they're off-setting in these spurious apologies.

Now, the reason 'sorry' is such a stupid word is that;

1) 'Sorry' itself is not going to put the matter right.

2) Why waste time always being sorry? Just stop doing the things that are always making you sorry.

3) Actions speak volumes. Don't say you're sorry. Show you're sorry.

A message to the word 'Sorry': If you really want to impress me then help me pass my degree.

See. Sorry. Absolutely useless.

Check out my manor

Have just found Google Earth. OH. MY. GOD. May the Lord have mercy apon my wasted life.

hoochymama

Foster brother had his jaw broke by some randon bloke out on bail last night. I think he is going for the Jackie Chan 'see if you can break every bone in your body' title. He has just recovered from having his arm broken atfter being knocked off his motorbike, twice, and he broke his leg playing football. It's nice to the see the locals are doing all they can to help him on his task.