Back seat drivers. 

I’ve been driving since I was 18, I passed first time and everything!! 

I’ve had quite a few speeding tickets, a car stolen and one or two slight accidents. Pretty good on average considering I’m 32. 

So why the fuck do people think they can sit in my car and offer unsolicited advice, critque my driving and act like I’m some sort of manic murderer intent on killing everyone and myself via ten tonnes of steel! 

Today I took my partner to work, with my little boy in the back and twice, twice idiot drivers drove… well… idiotically. 

MY first instinct is to avoid a crash. To swerve and miss the idiot drivers and quietly curse them out inside my own car. I feel this is a legitmate instinct and reaction that would be common amongst any normal human being. Please correct me if I’m wrong. 

Avoid the crash. Avoid it at all cost. Right. 

Wrong according to my partner. I’m not supposed to swerve, I’m not supposed to avoid the crash, I can stop dead or carry on but I CANNOT SWERVE!! I have the ‘moral’ high ground, therefore if we crash and die, at least we will have died ‘morally correct’. Well gee thanks. I feel much better. Oh wait I’m dead so who gives a fuck! I can’t feel. 

The second idiot cut up a junction when turning, I did have to move, but I’m okay with that, I don’t need my day filled with dealing with a crash… this is of course assuming I don’t die. My partner pulled on the handbrake, got out of the car and followed the driver down the cul-de-sac, all the while screaming at me for swerving! TO AVOID THE CRASH… I cannot keep specifying that enough. 

Getting back in the car, he smugly states how suddenly the idiotic driver was so excessively apologetic. What’s your fucking point?!?!? 

So you’re perfect scenario, if we don’t crash, is to stop dead, exit my car, which more often than not has my infant son in, and confront the person in the car… who is usually a older, taller male (sorry that I’m perpetrating sterotypes but this is just my experience). To what end?? 

You, my partner, muscular, tall and willinging to punch a man who threatens to harm his child while driving, you can confront him. I, who, can deadlift 60kg on a good day, but has never been in a fight, still carrys some persistent baby weight, 5,5 and hates confrontation, or any contact with strangers will not. And no amount of shaming, lose of temper or general annoyance will make me. 

I was texted later that day with an enquiry about my day and a kiss at the end of the text. Holy shit… that means, without a shadow of a doubt, my partner knows what an absolute douche he has been and this is the closest I will get to an apology, well that and some really good sex later (Check). 

I’ll chalk today up as a win – common sense prevails… when I’m driving. When he’s driving. I fully expect his last words to be: “morally in the right.” And mine will be: “oh shut the fuck up…”

Silver Linings. 

This is a love letter to my hound. Silver… get the title now. I am hilarious and so very clever. 

My anger is taken out on three ‘people’ in my life: my mother, my partner and my dog. And I’m going to take my time and just think of all the positives that my hound brings to my life and then maybe, just maybe, I’ll begin to love him more than my anger makes me hate him in those heat of the moment, angry pits of hell, fire and brimstone I fall into. 

Origins of Silver:

He was bought as we were burgarled, I was in the house and my partner was offshore and felt the distinct helplessness a man gets when something happens to someone he loves and he wasn’t there. Silver was bought for £50 from Gumtree in Yorkshire, we’re pretty sure he’s a staffy rotty cross. 

Playing with fire you might say… 

And I look back and cringe but god help me if it wasn’t the best £50 we’ve spent. He is the best dog. Like seriously. 

So let my positivity in the form of a list commence! 

  1. My dog is handsome, he’s 39kgs of pure muscle and leaness. He’s eyes truly are the windows to the soul. He has won awards. This is not just my opinion. He’s won Most Handsome Dog and Reserve Best in Show… in Telford… okay, in a small village off Telford…. in a very small local dog show… but still, it’s not just me. And to be fair that dog gets more compliments than my very cute (okay, that is all my opinion, and every chuffer on facebook, and my mum’s) 6 month old son, walking down the street. If he understood, he would have a big head. Fact. 
  2. He was bought for protection and he looks and sounds the part. Many a time I’ve opened the door to a delivery man who is now standing on the other side of the gate after hearing the dog bark and launch himself at the door, vibrating the whole house but serving his purpose and protecting his family. 
  3. He is so much more than protection, he is part of our family. He completes my partner’s perfect picture of family life, although that perfect picture surely cannot include the sea of hairs I sweep up every day, every day, every day, every day… no!! Positivity only! Hairs are hairs and once my boy is old enough that’ll be one of his special chores… 
  4. He has the most amazing temperament, he has the patience of a saint with my niece, who is eight, he performs all his ‘tricks’ for her, although I rue the day she taught him ‘paw’! He lies with her acting as a pillow while she watches TV, a true indication of the relationship my son and his best friend, Silver will have. 
  5. I can already see the boy and Silver’s relationship forming. Silver has finally begun to relax around the child and while he does spend a large part of his day trying to lick him to death, they make a really cute duo. The boy gets super duper excited whenever he sees Silver, he chases him in his walker, grabbing fur, ears and collar and Silver sits patiently, wanting nothing but to lick this little boy. Dinner time is The Best!!! I’m shouting at Silver for licking the boy’s hands and waiting for a morsel of food to drop and the boy, staring me straight in the eye, reaches out his hand, full of rusk, to feed the bloody dog! And Silver softly and gently with his mammoth jaws takes the food, not daring to look me in the eye! He knows better! But 6 months old and my son is challenging me and favouring the hound!!!! Oh how they shall be the best of friends. 
  6. Silver goes on runs with me, and sometimes when he thinks I’m in need of an extra effort (and this usually coincides with another dog going past) he stops dead and refuses to move!! Think of my extra work out!! Lifting and pulling a 39kg dog!! What a considerate pooch he is!! 
  7. In a time where life sucked for me, I’d been burgarled while I was in the house asleep, my partner was constantly away on rigs, I had Silver curled up beside me; my protector, my company, my dog. 

Silver, you are family and I’ll try really hard to remember, no matter what you do to fucking piss me off!!! 

Gaming… WTFFF

What the fucking, fuck, fuck is my new phrase and I feel the fucks right down in my angry soul!!!

PS4, X Box One, Wii, PSP… I’m not picky I hate them all. All of them can go die for all I care. 

One game in particular though – The Last Of Us… you fucking fuck fuck!! Why put the stupid, idiotic, world consuming internet game, fireflies vs fucking whatever into this game… so instead of the 2 days it takes to complete the story arc I have now lost my partner forever to this piece of shit game with his virtual friends who are just as fucking obsessed. Between the hours of 8pm till dawn I may as well be a single parent who lives alone, eats alone, watches TV alone and does everything a-fucking-lone!!! 

Once he enters that virtual world of death he might as well be fucking dead. He can’t contribute anything to our life together, nothing will get done, he finally ‘trusts’ me to do things, bearing in mind he spent a whole day balling me out as I said the next door neighbour’s builder could use our roof to gain access to his, breaking tiles in the process, and that’s my goddamn fault, I’m naive and incapable and he’ll handle everything. However, in the evening I could decide who lives and who dies and as long as it doesn’t interfere with his precious game, he ‘trusts’ me…. what a cock. 

To all online gamers, and I’m sorry about this but seriously how important are these virtual people you play with and the avitars you control? Are they going to help raise your child, that you had together, cook for you, clean for you, suck your dick for you? Hello! And I say this for all the lost and forgotten partners out there… pay attention to us, appreciate us or we’ll be gone and a virtual blowjob ain’t a smidge on the real thing. 

Why so Angry?

I’ve always been an angry person, deep deep down in my soul. Everything winds me up; people eating too loudly, people breathing too loudly… damn it, just ‘people.’ However, I have been able to hide this anger, this monstrousity of a character flaw under sarcasm, being an introvert and very luckily being overweight for a large part of my life AND have psoriasis over 75% of my body! Winner, winner!! Who wants to get close enough to that to get to know the ‘real’ me… that angry, angry angry angry ball of something. 

Then at 28 years of age, I lost loads of weight and found a miracle pill that seemed to spare me the horror of psoriasis. I gained a desire to want new people in my life, romantically, and after a few hits and misses, ups and downs, I met a nice man, moved in, got engaged, had a little boy, who is 6 months tomorrow, and are coming up to five years together… thank you very much. 

So, pretty good. But remember I’m deep deep deep down angry and there’s only so long I can supress that living in close quarters with another human being and being pregnant seemed to amplify every angry thought, feeling, reaction I had. 

My mother gets to be on a lot of the receiving end of my anger, my aggression, my sarcasm, my snideness but she’s never seen the balls to the ball wall anger my partner has seen… my hot, wet, horrible angry tears, my screaming, my phsyical manifestations of anger; at walls, my phone, the glove box, the car seat headrest, my complete lack of ability to communicate properly in any situation where I feel hard done by, under appreciated, treated unfairly or just in a shitty mood. ALL of this is in my own home at worst in the car. My partner is the only person who has seen the truth of me and I suck… hard. 

At work – consummate professional, comments on how calm I am, I’m a teacher so totally loads of opportunities to lose your actual shit. As a mother, love it, all the patience in the world, never could be angry at that little boy. As a partner… I suck. Hard. And last week it reached it’s climax and my partner was done and I don’t blame him, did I mention how much I sucked? I begged and begged and miracles of mircales we’re trying to work it out and we’re on a three month trail basis. We both have shit to change but my biggest thing is my seething, uncontrolled anger at him for nothing more than he didn’t put his dish in the dishwasher. 

So one thing I have to do is write about it, he really likes that idea and so do I! I love writing, have done since I was wee and even did my many brothers’ English creatve writing homework; getting them As and a call back from their teacher asking ‘did you really write this? I teach your sister, you know… and you’ve never put pen to paper before in my class…’ ‘yes sir, my heart and soul went into that story about… ummm…’ So I’m going to vent here and it’ll be whiney and mundane and so the fuck what, I’m channeling my anger so I can have my family, I’m not going to suck as a person, because while I love my little boy, that’s not enough, I want him to grow up in a fun and loving enviroment, not an enviroment where ‘mummy could explode, metaphorically, if I forget to put my dish away.’ 

Disclaimer – my partner is NOT perfect and my anger is amplified with him as he is my best friend who has done some douchey things to me, which have taken root in my soul because I let them and I let those things fuel my ball of anger, even when those chapters have closed, allowing me to justify my angry outbursts. The kicker is, this fuel is no longer viable, I have forgiven (supposedly), I have accepted (supposedly) and I have carried on my relationship with him…. so I need to let these things go… they can no longer be deemed justifiable by me to use as fuel to my fire, because let’s be honest those things in the past have nothing to do with him leaving a fucking dish on the side, it’s a dish, it’s not symbolic of his infidelity that one time or his inability to give a compliment or his douchey ways when he gets drunk. It’s a fucking dish that he forgot to put away. He’s not doing these things to me, he’s untidy and lazy sometimes but he’s also wonderful, kind and generous sometimes too, so let’s remember that for fuck’s sake. 

And yes I am no longer picking up his dishes, he can do it himself and while looking at those dirty dishes erks me, picking up after him like some sort of maid (which I put on my self, as he has never asked or expected me to clean up after him – and holy shit, was coming to that revelation hard enough) made me a lot fucking angrier and we don’t want that. 

Angry, welcome to your new home, I have a life to enjoy.