Wing

I have been meaning to write a little something about our last show, Ladies in Retirement, but I haven't found the time as of yet.  I'm sure I'll get around to it within the next couple of days.  Anyway, in the meantime, I should tell you about something that was said in passing backstage at the theatre.

At this point I should mention that one of the props in our show was the wing of a dead bird (you need to have seen the show to know why).  Anywho, our esteemed Assistant Director, Kevin mad a joking comment as he picked up the wing one day.  He said that someone should write a poem about the wing entitled "Ode to a Wing."  This provided a laugh backstage as him and our Director, John batted around a few lines of prose for this hypothetical poem.

To cut a long story short, I was bored and decided to actually write a poem dedicated to this wing, and here it is just for you, Kev.  It is called simply "Wing."

WING

Collecting shells on the beach,

The sun glaring in his eye.

His arms were full to bursting,

As he passed the poor thing by.

He tripped and stumbled and fell,

Face down into the sand.

He raised his head and saw,

The thing there, close at hand.

It was grey and white and fluffy,

But gave off quite a stink.

He stayed there, eyes affixed,

He needed time to think.

He thought, “It’s just too perfect,

This wonderfully simple thing!

But where’s the rest of its body?

It’s nothing but a wing!”

He packed the shells into his car,

And laid the wing on top.

He couldn’t wait to get it home,

He’d found the perfect prop!

At the theatre in the morn,

He burst right through the door.

“Behold what I have brought you,

To boost esprit de corps!”

“This wing is perfect for our show,

Of meaning it is rife.

It’s the ideal depiction,

Of a bird that gave its life!”

We soon began to love it,

As we used it in our play.

He had found this thing for us,

This wing of white and grey.

Although this thing had come from death,

Of pigeon, gull or crow.

It soon became a shining light,

The feathered beacon of our show!

I hope you all enjoyed this little journey and I'll speak to you all fairly soonish. BYE!!! x

Stray dogs.

It's a nice sunny day so I decided to open the back door to let in some air.  I went upstairs to grab my script so I could continue learning the lines for my upcoming play, Ladies in Retirement (no harm in a little bit of plugging - the show runs from Mon 28th March to Sat 4th April at 7:30pm, tickets cost £10).  When I returned I found the most adorable little Jack Russell wandering around my living room.  I have seen her previously, practically living in my garden for the past week, but this is the first time she ventured into our house.

The first thing I noticed was that she was walking around our house licking the floor clean and eating anything she found under my Dad's desk (lolly sticks, sweet wrappers, dust, socks, etc) so she was clearly quite hungry.  It also occurred to me that she wasn't wearing a collar so I had no idea who she belonged to.  Not knowing what to do next, my immediate thought was to contact the RSPCA but, after a few minutes of talking to robots, an automated voice told me that the RSPCA don't collect stray animals... so what do they do exactly?

I then called the Forest Heath District Council and they sent a woman from the kennels in Beck Row round to collect her so they could see whether or not she was micro-chipped in an attempt to find her owner.  Whilst awaiting this woman I fed her a few scraps of ham because she looked extremely hungry and then she spent the rest of the time curled up on my lap and occasionally playing tug-o-war with an old sock.

Eventually the woman turned up and took little Jacqueline (I couldn't keep calling her 'Dog') into her van.  We said our farewells and she was whisked away.  Then literally 20 seconds after they left, a couple of teenagers knocked on the door and asked me if I'd seen a little Jack Russell... oh crap.  I explained the situation and, needless to say, these kids were extremely angry.  I gave them the relevant contact information for the council and told them who would be able to help them, but I couldn't help but feel extremely guilty even though I was only doing what I thought was the right thing to do.  What would you have done?

I would appreciate any feedback.  Thanks, bye! xxx

Management issues.

It was Saturday 27th November and I was at work helping my Mother put some boxes away in the stockroom. After a while, the Store Manager, David turned up and we had a bit of a natter. It was mentioned that when I go home at 11, my Mother would be left to finish the next seven hours of her shift on her own. I jokingly said to David, "If you want to throw some extra hours at me, I'd be happy to stay on longer." He chuckled and said that if he had any spare hours to hand out he would be happy to and, with that, he walked off into his office.

This got me to thinking. When I started, I was told that they'd hired 22 new members of staff for the christmas period (it was actually 23 but one of them is leaving already so I'm discounting him). I should mention at this point that the staff of Marks and Spencer are divided into two main groups; the people who work on the shop floor dealing with customers and keeping the shop tidy, and the team
In Ops who work in the stockroom and are the backbone of the company, without whom the whole operation would fall apart.

It goes without saying that without us in the background, the shop would grind to a halt. So how do you think they distributed their 22 new starters? That's right, they put 21 of them on the shop floor and put me and only me in Ops.

This means it's just me and my Mother out back while they have a small community downstairs. But I only work for 4 hour shifts and so, for the rest of the time, my Mother is essentially on her own.

I remember once, while we were closing the shop, someone commented on how they'd never seen so many people on the shop floor at closing time. It was like a bloody ant farm. The annoying thing was that while half of the staff were going about doing their various tasks, the other half were just standing around having a good ol' chin wag because they had nothing else to do. Clearly they aren't all needed.

I honestly don't see how we can allow one solitary memer of staff to work alone in the stockroom holding the shop together while they have an unnecessarily large army doing naff all downstairs. I say we need to trim the fat down there, getting rid of all the dead weight and give me some of those hours they coveniently 'don't have spare.'

Thank you, that is all.
xxx

"Hey Kris, how are ya?"

This question, in all its forms, is one that most of us are asked every day.  If you go to work or to see a friend, I guarantee you will be asked how you are.  This is one of the situations in which I believe most of us lie.  Whenever we are asked this, we say "fine," or "I'm good, how are you?"  I, for one, find it hard to believe that everyone is 'fine' all the time.  I personally have started overcompensating by answering with, "I am excellent!" or "Amazing!"  There is never a hint of sarcasm in my voice because I am not being sarcastic, I am merely lying through my teeth.

One of the reasons for the mass lie is that we don't want to bum people out with our problems.  I'm sure there are many more reasons too, but the one that is most prevalent with me is that if I say, "No," when asked if I am OK, it will immediately be followed with, "Why?"  I feel it would be rude of me to tell the inquisitor to mind their own business and so the only other option would be to tell them why I am not fine.

This is not an appealing option for me as this is how I see that conversation going:

"Hi Kris, you OK?"

"No, Mandy, no I'm not."

"Really?  What's the matter?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Of course.  What is it?"

"You might want to take a seat.  We could be a while.  A few months ago I had the perfect life.  I was living in a nice house with my fiancée and her Mother.  We had a dog and a cat.  We had a field with a couple of Shetland Ponies.  We had pretty much planned the entire wedding already; we'd bought all the glasses and cutlery, the dress had been bought and we were very close to booking our venue.  I was planning on going to Suffolk College in Ipswich to study accountancy whilst continuing to find paid work.  Once I did have a job, her Mother could move out and we could turn her room into the guest room, and then the current spare room would become the nursery for our two kids, Zachary William and Cassie Grace.  We would then be married next August and be ready to start our life together properly.  We even planned on retiring in her Grandparents' bungalow around the corner.  I had the perfect life and my future was all planned out.

"It all started to go tits up, however.  We had been together for five months and engaged for one.  We had spent those blissful five months perfectly happy; never having a single argument or falling out over anything.  Then all of a sudden, seemingly overnight, she stopped talking to me.  She was ignoring me and treating me like I didn't exist.  She then stopped coming home on her breaks (except when she knew I wouldn't be there) and eventually she stopped coming home entirely, going straight to her Aunt's after work and not even calling to let me know.  It broke my heart the way she was treating me; it seemed like all the love had drained from her face and she suddenly became this cold, heartless robot.

"Then one day, she did the one thing that she promised she would never do to me or anyone else.  She sent me a text message from work saying, "I don't want to be with you any more.  It's over."  It was like my entire world was crumbling around my feet.  That day, I packed a bag and went back to Newmarket.  So now that my fiancée has left me, I am in Newmarket living with my Parents and working with my Mother.  I still want to go to college, but lack the motivation or drive to do so.  I can currently see no light at the end of my tunnel; no happiness in my future.

"I know that I seem happy and cheerful at work but, I assure you, it's all an act for the purposes of customer service because, I don't mind telling you, behind the laughs and the smiles, I am dead inside.  I am horribly, horribly depressed and getting more so by the day.  So, in a word, Mandy, no I am not OK."

I have come to the conclusion that it would be best if I said, "No," every time and people just left it like that; and then, on the rare occasion that I say, "Actually, I'm good today," that would be the ideal time to ask me why, because there must be something going on that I actually want to talk about.

So, Mother, next time you comment on how I seem grumpy on any particular day, just remember that I'm not any more miserable than usual, I merely can't be arsed to pretend.

Kristopher Camden, signing out x

Never stop to think!

They say you always feel better after a good cry.  They lied, I don't feel that much better.  I've found it happens a lot more often these days; sometimes for no apparent reason, but mostly because I make the rookie mistake of stopping to think about my life.

This particular revelation came about as I was planning what I need to save money for when I start work.  I decided I want to put some cash away to go and visit Carlos in America at some point in the near future, but it occurred to me that I should probably save up and find myself somewhere to live first.  It's no big secret that I didn't really want to move back in with my parents, but after my fiancée kicked me out it was a choice between here and the YMCA.  I started thinking that it's good that I have a job because I can afford to finally move out AGAIN and try and fix my life because I would probably do a lot better if I moved into my own place... or would I?

I've moved out several times already but I always wind up back again.  I lived in a flat in Newcastle with Nikki, Steph and Will, I lived in a shared house the following year with Eve, Kit and Michelle, then after University failed I came back.  I then moved into a shared house with Joe, Al and Uncle Fred around the corner from the shop I supervised at in Bury, but I lost my job and got evicted in the same week so I came back.  Finally I moved in with my fiancée and her Mother in Ipswich and we all know how that ended.

The point being, although I spent a lot of time in these shared houses holed up in my room, at least there were other people in the house and I never had to actually live alone.  Even now I get extremely depressed when my parents are at work and I have the house to myself, I sometimes actually find myself staring out the window waiting for my Mother to come home just so I don't have to be in the house on my own any more (that's how we know things have gotten bad).

If I'm completely honest, I don't know how I'll ever be able to cope living alone if I move out.  I just don't know what to do.

Unlovable

Are my lips unkissable?
Are my eyes unlookable?
Is my skin untouchable?
Am I unlovable?

Cynical, jaded, faithless, disappointed, disillusioned, used,
If I could take back all my sweat, my tears, my sex, my joy I would,
My time, my love, my effort, passion, dedication,
In case of mistaken identity I gave these things to you.
If I sound angry, bitter, sad, infatuated, it's the truth,
Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, just a few ,
Stages of acceptance that it's really over,
It's just so complicated and I'm stupid for believing in you.

You make me feel like my father never loved me, 
You make me feel like the act of love is empty.
Am I so unlovable?
Is my skin untouchable?
Do I remind you of a part of you that you don't like?

I had your back, I held you up, I told you you were good enough,
It was not reciprocated, you kept affection and yourself apart.
You fed your love to me like crumbs to pigeons in the park,
Sometimes I think you're satisfied to see me begging like a dog.
I wasn't armoured, you were king, I gave my everything,
Because sometimes you showed me just a hint of you and then,
For just a moment I romanticised the notion,
I can take away the torment, I can love you like they never did.

You make me feel like my father never loved me (you never loved me),
You make me feel like the act of love is empty (I felt so empty).
Am I so unlovable?
Is my skin untouchable?
Do I remind you of a part of you that you don't like?

You make me feel like my mother, she abandoned me (you abandoned me),
You make me feel like the act of love is empty (I felt so empty).
Am I so unlovable?
Is my heart unbreakable?
Do I remind you of a part of you that you despise?

Are my lips unkissable?
Are my eyes unlookable?
Is my sex undoable?
Am I unlovable?
Are my words unlistenable?
Are my hands untouchable?
Am I undesirable?
Am I unlovable?

You make me feel like my father never loved me, 
You make me feel like the act of love is empty.
Am I so unlovable?
Is my skin untouchable?
Do I remind you of a part of you that you don't like?

You make me feel like my father never loved me (you never loved me),
You make me feel like the act of love is empty (I felt so empty).
Am I so unlovable?
Is my skin untouchable?
Do I remind you of a part of you that you don't like?

You make me feel like my mother, she abandoned me (you abandoned me),
You make me feel like the act of love is empty (I felt so empty).
Am I so unlovable?
Is my heart unbreakable?
Do I remind you of a part of you that you despise?

You make me feel like my father never loved me (you never loved me),
You make me feel like my mother, she abandoned me (you abandoned me),
You make me feel like my father never loved me (you never loved me),
You make me feel like my mother, she abandoned me (you abandoned me).


Unlovable by Darren Hayes there.  I was just walking home from the charity shop today and this song came on my iPod.  It reminded me of someone and I instantly felt the need to chronicle this.  This is an awesome song, even if it does make me cry.


Peace and love to all. xxxx    

The Part

I was sitting at home earlier today watching some crap on telly (as usual) when I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, an old man walking up to my front door.  I had to double-take because I could have sworn it was Wallace, the director at my am dram group.  Then as he walked away I was able to confirm that it was him and he had posted something through my door.  I excitedly ripped open the envelope to reveal a cast list for the upcoming panto.  I looked up and down the list before eventually finding my name hidden amongst 20 or so other names in the "random villagers and merry men" section.  Oh well, you can't win 'em all (I just hope they're not expecting too much).  I'm not gonna pretend I'm not a tiny bit disappointed that I don't get to be the centre of attention this time, but that's show business.

As you can probably tell by now, I don't have a fantastically exciting life.  That being said, I'll only be recording my thoughts here when anything particularly interesting happens, otherwise there'll be hundreds of entries saying, "I sat at home today watching crap on TV."  Therefore, I may not be writing anything for a while as I don't expect anything exciting to be happening any time soon.

So, until next time, tatty bye! x