Wednesday, September 02, 2015

Through The Blowhole

Gus and I broke up last week. Nobody likes to read about break ups. People don't even like to hear about them. They assume that all break ups lead to heartbreak and that's not always true. When someone gets to a certain point in their life and they become romantically involved people tend to think "Oh, that's great, they've found 'the one'" I didn't assume anything about my relationship with Gus and I think that's why I was able to look at it with such clarity.

Another thing people tend to assume when there's been a breakup is that is was somebody's fault. I try not to look at things in terms of whose to blame. Gus and I were both completely open and honest throughout. There was no gameplaying and no bullshit. It was simply a case of it not being right for us at this particular time.

I am loathe to call it the'perfect breakup' only because people don't believe such things are possible. And, of course, I can only tell you how it is from my point of view. I am not Gus and I can't speak for him. But after some of the messier breakups I've had in life, it feels so much kinder and caring. Gus and I truly are good friends. We don't want to hurt each other and we know enough about human psychology to recognise the patterns that can develop when a relationship isn't right.

If Carlsberg did relationships it would have looked a lot like ours. We talked about surfing the blowhole. Maybe one day I can try to explain what the blowhole signified in our relationship. Although it sounds like it might be sexual, it's not. The blowhole is simply the cosmic channel through which the universe is created. It started with hair and spunk but I promise you it has nothing to do with sex.

But, yeah, we surfed the blowhole and it was fun. Then we had to be adults and I think we passed the test. Now we are just friends again and I feel very lucky to have had such a fun summer without too much bittersweetness. I am very much learning to enjoy these experiences for what they are at the time. I feel no need to cling onto something and mould it into what I think it should be, because then, it ceases to be what it was.

Friday, August 28, 2015

Worm Juice and Copulating Flies

I am at one with mother nature. So much so that insects like to do their business on me. I was holding a worm in the palm of my hand when I noticed it had secreted a yucky yellow liquid all over me. I couldn't tell you what the substance was I didn't see which end of the worm it came out of. Sitting at mum's today and she says "Hannah, there are two flies shagging in your hair", which I didn't mind until they fell out of my hair onto my biscuit.

Flies were the order of the day. Both mum and I swallowed one when we were out walking with the dogs. It was tremendously tickly. I thought I was going to cough out my spleen and mum said she felt her fly was doing ballet in her throat and she kept making noises like a cat does when it's hacking up hairballs. Mum stopped at a shop to get a drink and I suggested that ice cream would be a far superior remedy for fly inhalation.

We went to the monastery car park to eat our ice creams and do a spot of people watching. Mum remarked on the woman that walked by woth an army of children, "Wow, five kids, she's some doll....shit! The window's open". My mum is a careless people watcher.

Yesterday I fixed my washing machine. The pump was clogged full of blue tissue that had been in the pockets of my flatmate's trousers. There were a couple of times during the repair process that I thought I was going to have to call a man but then I realised that all the men I know are not the fixing washing machines type of men so I just got on with it myself. One more week and one more day at work and then it's Roadtrip time :)




Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Philosophy, Lesbian Artists and Cannibal Movies: Something For Everyone

I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned before how my big sister Z very much encouraged me to write when I was younger. She read a poem I wrote at school and she suggested I get a notebook and write poems in it. So I did. The very first poem to go in it was short and sweet and quite philosophical for a ten year old. It was called Why?

Why I am?
I do not know,
Why I am me?
Why is it so?

And the thing is, I had really thought about this. I wanted to know why I was me, Hannah Bobo, and not somebody else. I didn't ponder it in a green-eyed way. I had no desire to be anyone else but I wanted to know why I existed and why I looked the way I looked and behaved the way I behaved. It was the start of my quest to figuring life out and it's probably why I reacted so badly to puberty, because I'd just started asking the important questions at an age where my body, and whole life, was about to change dramatically and I hadn't figured out the answer of who I was and why I was me before puberty hit and I started acting all moody and nonchalant.

I did some other writing that I probably threw away because it embrassed me but I wrote another one when I was 12 or 13 inspired by a picture my friend drew of me. I've turned it into a song now that's a bitch to play but I can already hear a nice trombone or clarinet melody to go with it. It's called Eily Was An Artist.

Eily was an artist,
She drew a picture of me,
There was something wrong with it,
She made me far too pretty.

She took me to her bedroom,
Where we stayed for most the night,
She said she'd like to hold me,
Just to get the feeling right.

Eily held me tight,
Then she beagan to draw me,
She looked into my eyes,
And she told me I was pretty.

Eily was an artist,
She drew a picture of me,
She liked to draw with her hands,
And tell me I was pretty.

I remember showing it to mum and she might have told me it was good had she not been slightly worried about the content. But my innocence was long gone when, at the tender age of 10, I walked in to find Nellybert watching The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover just at the scene where some dude's being forced to eat a dead man's cock. It is really no wonder I enjoy a good cannibal movie.

Friday, August 21, 2015

A Quick Update

Today we are being treated to a rare sunny day in Norn Iron. 'Twould be a fine day for the park but I did that yesterday with my nieces and their chums. A bit of play therapy was much needed and it was a good park that we went to. Ziggy was at his Granny's for two nights and has returned a 'very good boy'. I think that might be more of a perspective thing though.

I did a bit of music making on Tuesday night with Zen-N. He has a four track so I can listen back to how woeful I sound. The GCDCs haven't played in a while and I feel the void. I harped on for so long about jamming and when it finally happened on a regualr basis I was happy. How is it that as soon as we get something we want in life we lose something else? Is there only a certain amount of space in our hearts for the things that we love? No, I don't believe so but, yes, things change.

So I downloaded a computer eight track mixing program and the GCDCs will live on in my hard drive until we get motivated again. If we ever do get motivated. I did find out that I have definitely got my placement which should start in the new year hopefully. This gave me a sense of being on the right track again. I seem to have developed an allergic reaction to driving lessons, or at least paying for them. I've had a flatmate now for two whole months without any drama whatsoever. The reason being is we keep completely different schedules and so we never see each other. Though he does keep eating my bananas. But what kind of person would I be to begrudge someone a few bananas. As long as he doesn't touch my mango!

Saturday, August 15, 2015

Oh Mango

There are people in the world, y'know, who have never eaten mango. This makes me feel sad for them much more than I feel sad for the people who have never seen snow. But I also feel sad for them too. In fact, a lot of people who haven't eaten mango have the choice to eat it. They just never thought to try it.

I'm not sure when I first tried it but I do know that as soon as I tasted the sweet, floral nectar I knew that anything was possible. If something could taste so unique, so luscious and utopian, then life had to have a whole assortment of other treasures to discover. Very few fruits come close. Maybe lychees.

I've had a busy week catching up with folk, editing the wedding photos and being reminded that human beings are ridiculously crazy creatures and this thing we call 'life' is full of surprising twists and turns. All of it a very clever distraction from doing the things I should be doing, like passing my driving test and securing a placement.

Ziggy is telling me he needs his walk. He communicates this by coming over and putting the ball on the laptop. He does not respect the laptop, in fact, I'd go as far to say that he does not like the laptop. Except if it's playing the Doors. Today in work we had a fancy dress rock theme. I never participate in these things as I'm too lazy to organise anything but today involved me showing up in the clothes I normally wear anyway. Because, of course, I am in a band so therefore I dress like a rockstar.

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Thank God It's Not Forever

My wee blog will be 10 years old next month. This means that it has also been just over 10 years since I completed my first degree. That means it's been 10 years of working in, mostly, shitty jobs. When I worked in the 216 shop I always had plenty to rant about. Mum would pick me up from work each evening waiting for the next installment of drama like it was a soap opera. I really do try to stay positive for as long as possible in the work place but it seems that once I reach a certain point, that's it. I am nearing that point with my current job, although I feel more hopeful that things could improve with a bit of communication. I used to have my fantasises of travel to get me through the tough days. Now I have the counselling degree to remind me that I won't have to endure this forever.

My biggest problem at work has always been my desire to work to the best of my ability and my resentment at everyone else who doesn't. It's completely ridiculous considering that I am probably always the employee who least agrees with what the company is doing, and yet I still bust my balls and give them value for money. Ah, but my life is always so full of contradictions so why should work be any different?

I am due a little holiday. I know I am because I can feel the stagnation. Only a month to go and the Lovely Mel, Ziggy and I will be heading on our road trip. Hooray for friends like Mel who don't need hotels, sun, sea and sand. Hooray for friends that don't mind roughing it so your dog can come along. Hooray for Ireland having so much unexplored terrain for me. Hooray for getting the fuck out of Ballymena! I am pretty sure that we will be taking the pixie trails which will involve some tree climbing, sheugh leaping and poking mud with sticks. My favourite things :)

Wednesday, August 05, 2015

The People In Ziggy's Life

Ziggy caught wind that I was blogging about all the people in my life and he decided he wanted in on that too. Ziggy learnt to read and write when he was a small pup listening to BBC Radio 4. It really is a shame that, despite being a dog with superhuman intelligence, he is very stubborn and does only what he wants to do.

Ziggy's Post

Perhaps because I'm a dog I should be writing about all the other dog's in my life but, well, humans are so strange and interesting to me that I'd rather write about them. You will recognise most of these people as they are all the same people that Hannah knows. This is because we move in the same circles.

What Hannah wrote about Zen-N was exactly right. He's a real nice dude but sometimes I wish he'd be a bit more fiesty. I have tried to initiate battles with him, by tugging on his jumper sleeve, gnawing on his hands but he just gently pats me on the head while looking at Hannah as if to say "What do I do? He's challenging me to a dual and I don't have sharp, pointy teeth!"
But, that aside, when Hannah spends time with him they often go on long walks. This suits me fine as I can sniff and wee on things. I sometimes catch snatces of their conversation and hear words such as "Empathy, congruence and unconditional positive regard". Then I go back to weeing on things.

When Jakers comes round I get very excited. I've known him since I was very young and he always makes a big fuss of me. Sometimes, when Hannah is busy, Jakers will look after me. He takes me for walks, plays with me, nuzzles into me and tells me I am a good boy. However, if I am a bad boy, and this has been known to happen from time to time, Jakers will roar at me much louder than Hannah.

I have only met Hannah's dad a few times but I feel good vibes from him. He seems to be more of a cat person than a dog person but Hannah says that he is vegetarian and he loves all the wee animals. Also, he always lets me go in his car even though it's hired and I leave dog hairs in it.

Hannah's mum is my Granny and she is a big ball of pure awesomeness. When Hannah tells me we're going to see Granny I get very excited. This means we are going to see Judy, Jess, Roy and an assortment of other fine dog beasts. Granny is very good to me and lets me run around her place and she doesn't even get that cross when I accidentally pooh on her landing carpet. I don't really do that anymore because I like her so much.

Gus is a good friend of mine. He is so loud, silly and gregarious and when I hear his voice I know it means I'm gonna have some fun. Except if he comes round with his guitar. Then I know he and Hannah are gonna make some noise and ignore me for a while. The dynamics of our friendship changed a little recently and it took a while for me to get used to it. He started to come over more frequently and, at first, I thought it was to see me. Then I realsied that he was less interested in playing with me and more interested in playing with Hannah. This may have led to a little bit of bad behaviour on my part but both Hannah and Gus have reassured me that I am still very high up the pecking order.

Hannah is my favourite of all though. If it wasn't for her my life might not be so filled with fun and excitement. But I get something different from Hannah as well, a comfort and a feeling of safety. I know that she loves me very much because she takes me out for walks, she cleans up my pooh, she feeds me, she only leaves me at home when she absolutely has to, she lets me play with everyone I meet, she gives me freedom to be the dog that I am and she tells me she loves me all the time. Sometimes it's quite embarassing. She also tells me that I'm only a little boy and Gus says no, I'm a hairy little dog, and I get a bit confused so I act like a little hairy boy dog which seems to be the right thing to do and wins the affection of most.