Monthly Archives: June 2012

A REAL fairy tale

‘Memoirs of Sacha Black’ is a month old today… So I thought why not write something a lil’ different in celebration…

Looking back at your childhood, don’t you think that there should have been more ‘Real’ fairy tales??

Well I found this picture earlier today, and just had to write something!!

This is the kind of fairy tale I wanted as a kid….

Once upon a time, lived the most beautiful girl in the whole world, some even said she was princess.

She had hair, dark as the night; chopped short like a pixie. Her ice blue eyes made every man, women and child melt before her.

She was powerful too, independent and full of courage. She had her own castle, and her own land, that she ruled all by herself, with the love and respect of her people.

But she was sad, there was something missing from her life. She was unloved, and couldn’t find her prince charming.

But it wasn’t for lack of trying. She had travelled many lands and crossed many terrains looking for her prince charming, but found no one.

One day a nasty witch who’s heart was blackened and broken from bitterness, decided that she didn’t want the princess to be more successful than her. she was jealous, and hated that she was loved by so many people. She enjoyed the fact that she couldn’t find her prince charming.

She wanted to be powerful like her. Unfortunately for the witch, she didn’t think to ask the beautiful princess for help. She was so kind that she would have taught her how to be powerful like her.

But the nasty witch never asked the princess for help, and so grew more jealous and more spiteful.

When her heart had finally crystallised into a black lump of coal he took up her wand and stood for a week, day by day, night by night, by his metal cauldron, brewing, stirring and mixing.

She threw in to his battered cauldron:

frogs legs, spiders eyes, dragons breath, rats tails, and eye of newt.

After a week, her potion was almost finished. She just needed one final ingredient. A heart. She sacrificed her loyal cow who had given her milk for a decade, and took the dripping heart to the cauldron, and stood over the bubbling potion; holding her wand she began to whisper

‘O princess, beauty of our land,

may your sadness last a lifetime,

take from me my blackened heart and sleep.

Sleep until your fictitious prince charming can awaken you.

Only the kiss of true love, will wake you once more.’

and with that she cackled viciously and stabbed the heart with her wand tossing it into the pot.

The cauldron exploded in a firework of light and purple mist. It launched the witch back and she fell to the cobbled ground.

Angry, she gathered her robes trudged back to the pot and scooped up some of the potion. Using her wand she coated an apple with the liquid, and pushed some into the apple core and sealed it with magic.

She picked up her broomstick and flew out into the night. The air was cold and flushed her cheeks, making her look old and haggard.

Eventually, she reached the castles village. It was morning and she was exhausted. She walked through the village looking for the princess knowing that she was kind and spent time giving money and food to her people.

She walked through an archway into a big open square and found the princess giving out bread, fish and wine.

The witch stood in the cue and when it was her turn she took the bread, fish and wine and offered the princess the apple in return. She said

“oh kind old witch, I surely wouldn’t take your apple, when you have nothing, and I have plenty.”

“I insist beautiful princess, you have such a kind heart, I offer you my last apple in thanks” The witch replied.

“Well thank you” the princess said, and reached for the apple taking it in her soft hand and biting a chunk from its centre.

She chewed a moment, and then her ice blue eyes widened in horror as she felt her heart crack and crumble and blacken.

With a last fearful look at the witch her knees collapsed and she dropped to the fall fast asleep.

The princess slept for a lifetime, the witch would visit her often, and watch the princes come from lands afar to try and wake her. But none of them could. Her people lost hope, and the village and castle fell into disrepair.

One day, an unusual girl heard the story of the beautiful princess and was shocked that she was still asleep, and that no one had managed to awaken her. Some say that the unusual girl was also princess, although she was a very strange princess who always wore jeans, instead of the dresses young girls were expected to wear. She had shaggy brown hair, and dark brooding eyes. And her right arm was covered in funny pictures, inked all the way up to her shoulder.

The unusual girl decided that she wanted to see the princess for herself. So she travelled across land, and sea for 5 weeks before she could find the beautiful princesses castle. When she got there, the village people scorned her because she was different, and they refused to give her food or shelter.

So the unusual girl carried on walking until she got to the castle. She opened the big oak gates and walked through the court yard and up into the tower where the princess laid.

The unusual girl was tired, she had travelled for so long and hadn’t eaten or drunk anything in the last day. Looking at the tower stairs she felt weary but something compelled her to carry on.

When she finally entered the room where the princess slept she was overwhelmed by her beauty.

The unusual girl ran straight to the princesses bed, and took her soft hand into hers, she didn’t understand why she was doing this, but she felt the need to be close to her. After staring at her for some time, she decided that she truly was the most beautiful women in the world, she had the most perfect lips, and her beauty gave her butterflies in her tummy.

Without realising it, the unusual girl had lent down and her face was almost touching the beautiful princesses. She wanted to kiss her. To feel her soft pink lips on hers.

So she did. She touched her lips to the beautiful princesses and as she pulled away the princess awoke, and kissed her back.

When the princess opened her eyes, she gasped at the sight of the unusual girl in front of her.

“But your, your a princess, not a prince.” The confused beautiful princess whispered, shocked.

“I am, BUT, I am your ‘princess charming.'” she said smiling back at the her.

The beautiful princess realised in that moment, that she had never found her prince charming because she wasn’t really looking for a prince, but for a princess.

This princess was her one true love, and her saviour.

The beautiful princess felt warm and happy inside, she was now complete, and they lived happily ever after.

Gender it's a funny thing

Gender.

It’s funny. I find gender absolutely fascinating.

I have an unusual view of gender, I 100% respect others views, but this is an exploration of my view, so try not to be offended.

I think, I am genderless.

Can you ‘be’ that?

Does that make me gender queer?

Don’t get me wrong, I was brought up a women, I have boobies, and other womanly bits. But I still find gender such an odd concept.

I don’t ‘see’ it. I don’t understand it. It doesn’t fit.

Why do we need it?

I never look at people and ‘see’ their gender, I just see them, their beauty, and their soul.

I am a curvy girl, I look feminine.

Inside I am androgynous.

Not because I am transgender, I’m not. I just don’t have a gender.

I don’t feel male or female.

I have several trans friends who have had to fight so hard to be recognised as their true gender, and my heart breaks that they should have to do this.

Sometimes, I think wouldn’t it just be better if society had no gender? No judgement, and no rules that ‘women’ or ‘men’ have to adhere too.

Why is it so important that women be womanly? and men manly?

What is it that defines you as a women anyway?

Why am I seen as a women? I see myself as genderless. Why shouldn’t I be recognised as genderless?

Is it purely the way I look physically? Most of society judges someone on first appearance. Surely that cannot be the defining reason to place me into the ‘women’ box.

I like sports, I’m competitive and can be aggressive. Manly traits, but that doesn’t make me a man either.

I think, that I was always genderless. As a child, I threw dolls away, chopped their heads off and cut their hair, played in the mud, and got into fights. Typical tom boy traits. But I wore girlie clothes. I don’t understand why we need gender.

I wonder what society would be like if we didn’t have such specified gender roles? No sexism, probably no homophobia, transgender people would be accepted for the gender they are, rather than the ‘gender’ their physical bodies decided they were at birth.

Society puts so much precedent on gender it’s one of the first things babies understand – mummy and daddy, boys and girls.

To me, it’s so irrelevant. My mind is ‘sexless’, my soul a free spirit. It makes me struggle to understand why people get so angry and upset about gender.

I think that gender is personal, that your gender isn’t your whole, I don’t even have one, so it can’t be.

I love peoples soul and spirit, their life and their energy.

Sacha's Delirium

 

Exhaustion, and Deliria are finally setting in.

I have 4 to do lists going, Home, Work, Wedding and Urgent! Alongside my 11 wedding spreadsheets… Is that overkill??

Probably, me thinks!

Anyway,

Long gone are the times when I could finish things in advanced, turn up to meetings or events early, remember conversations…

In fact remember anything.

I was at work today in some kind of half delirious barely conscious state and I could see people talking at me, I was staring, watching their mouths move up and down, gesturing wildly at me, and I had absolutely no idea what they were saying, its like i’d pressed mute on the TV, or temporarily gone deaf.

My mother rang me to ask me something about the wedding, and she swears she was asking me something simple, and I thought she was genuinely speaking swahili. She had to explain it 6 times to me!!

My brain is so full there is LITERALLY no room for any more information. You try and add something in, something else falls out my ear, or nose to make room.

My dear friend is helping me with all the girlie stuff for the wedding as I am not very girlie, and todays topic of choice was nails.

Well I about nearly had a coronary right there.

She bombarded me with more choices than I’ve had hot meals in the last month. Seriously, HOW are there that many options for having your nails done? She sat there after having given me a list as long as my arm, I felt like I was being beaten up with girliness!! The words were wafting through the air and buzzing around my already mush filled useless brain. There were so many options, I had to stop her in her tracks and tell her to make an executive decision on my behalf, I can’t cope!!

As if I don’t have enough to contend with, I realised today that my current assignment is due in in a little over two weeks, what is more, my dissertation proposal is due in 4 days after the wedding. It was right around this point, driving home from a not particularly nice, very hot and stuffy, long day at work, that I lost it.

I broke down into a fit of hysterical laughter, on my own in the car, I laughed so hard I cried, and ended up in a weird sobbing state of laughter, I couldn’t control it. I don’t really know if I was laughing for crying, I think probably both simultaneously. It lasted most of the way home.

I feel better now!

*cackle*

I think I am losing it!

 

Lesson 101 in how to demotivate someone

You can squash me,

You can beat me,

You can push me down,

But I will get up,

I will try again,

And I won’t give up,

One day when your tired,

When your broken,

And when you quit

I will triumph, I will stand proud, and I will win.

Sacha Black

****

What a ridiculous week.

I have never met a bunch of more miserable, bubble bursting, negative  people in my life. I know were in a recession but seriously, theres no need to make me miserable just because you are!

I met a senior manager recently who told me that I wouldn’t have a job in a few years time, that there wouldn’t be any money for managers or project managers like me. That we were facing hard times and more cuts were coming, they continued…

“realistically I ought to find a ‘proper profession'”

Thing is it was meant to be a motivating statement because they were trying to poach me into their department. Probably is, once I heard that they thought I wouldn’t have a career etc etc I kinda switched off.

Then a few days later I met my new mentor.

WELL.

They asked me what my biggest challenges were at the moment. I said that in my previous job I was really passionate and enjoyed living to work. Whilst I understood that there was a balance to be had and that it wouldn’t always be like that, I wanted to still be passionate about what I was doing, and that I was struggling to find a niche in the job I am doing at the moment to be passionate about.

My mentor kindly told me that I needed a reality check because most people work to live and that I should probably get used to it.

I was utterly shocked that for someone who is supposed to mentor, coach and motivate someone that they could be so negative and pessimistic. I am not naive I know most people work to live, but for goodness sake you don’t have too.

Only you have control over your life and the direction you choose to take. People choose to stay in jobs they hate for a variety of reasons, but I am sorry that’s your choice. If you were really miserable then only you can make the change you need too, to do what makes you happy. I think it’s utter bollocks that I should expect to not be passionate about my job and expect to work to live. Bollocks.

Demon emailer makes for an angry Sacha

Today, I am boshing out my angry lesbian.

We have established that I hate vague rambling discussions and or instructions, and these nearly made it onto my list of pet hates.

However, I still only have three official pet hates, (official because I have an endless ever growing list of things that annoy me, but three that will instantly piss me off)

I hate being patronized. It makes me arrogant and angry and ultimately turns me into the antichrist!

Don’t patronize me because

a) I am probably more intelligence than you

and

b) I can definitely do whatever it is that were doing better than you

So this new person has taken over the HR for the scheme that I am on. Supposedly they are “babysitting” it. Sorry the last time I checked I didn’t actually wear diapers anymore.

Anyway.

A little while ago we were asked to organise an event. Asked for ideas and then the reins were past over to us to get on with the event.

New girl starts, a little over a week after we were told to get on with it.

Newbie sends some really patronizing email giving us an arbitrary deadline for the next working day to ‘submit’ our presentations to her to ‘review’ them.

#rage instantly.

Firstly we were never given a deadline in the first place, secondly dont ask for something the next working day when its already the afternoon and I am rammed up to my eyeballs in work; and thirdly, the event was still a WHOLE month away. Your not in the private sector now love. Welcome to the public sector!

I responded with a polite email back suggesting that the deadline be pushed forward because the event was a long way away and that the deadline was a little close.

This earnt the newbie the nick name “Demon Emailer”

The ridiculous email continues

“I am sure that you all have been formulating your ideas for what you are going to talk about since the time you volunteered to do these sessions. ”

The response I SHOULD have sent:

No you patronizing bitch, I have not been formulating ideas, I offered to do this a week ago. I have been up to my eyeballs in real work besides I am conducting a 15 minute ice breaker I do not need to spend hours doing it, now fuck off and chill out.

I didn’t. I was polite.

Demon Emailer continues:

If your workload is such that you don’t think those timelines are workable, we have another couple of graduates who are interested in helping out

At this point I genuinely turned purple in the face at the audacity of the demon emailer. How dare you suggest that I am incapable of delivering a 15 minute session in a months time. No I do not need help, its FIFTEEN MINUTES of material. I could piss longer than that, this is not hard.

Anyway, after my hulk climbed back inside, and my face returned to its olivey colour, I decided to march up to the demon emailers office and ‘ave a word’

Demon emailer can’t be thinking they can get away with this for the rest of their time here!

Polite conversation was had. Through gritted teeth I hasen to add.

Its at this point that I am convinced I am working with a full on robot. I have never seen anyone fidget less in my life. The wind could have picked up and their hair wouldn’t have even budged plus their posture was waaay too straight to be normal.

We move on a couple of weeks.

Demon emailer decided that they wanted a rehersal of the event.

Much to irritation. Again, this is 15 minutes. Not hard.

Reluctantly I drag myself to this meeting.

Demon Emailer then says:

“Now then Sacha, let’s role play your piece shall we, lets practice all together (insert painfully perky smile) and then we can all make sure we are perfect. I have trained people across the world  and  run events for small groups to huge conferences, and I know that to look natural and unpracticed you need to practice practice practice”

#RAGE

Firstly, no I will not role play my section, I am not four, and we are not in drama class now love.

Secondly, your telling me your life story like I give a fuck.

Thirdly, you sat perfectly still for so long theres a fly nesting in your perfect hair (ok not true, but I wish it had been)

Fourthly, wipe that perky smile off your face before I do

Evidently I didn’t actually say any of these things, but I really wanted to.

*sigh*

I did refuse to participate though. I mean really, role playing my 15minute section. Delusional.

Lesbian on Autopilot

Do you ever get that feeling that life is passing you by, and theres nothing you can do to engage or grab hold of it before it disappears?

I like to think of it as ‘autopilot’.

Its not really your friend, but sometimes you need it.

The irony is, hopefully this post written last night is on autopilot and will have posted automatically at some point around lunchtime tomorrow today.

As I have already established I am failing miserably at all aspects of my life at the moment!

I have mush for brains.

Anyone ever seen click? (the film) Essentially, he has a remote  control that controls his hole life and he can fast forward, pause, turn down etc etc parts of his life. He ends up wasting it and fast forwarding through all the goods bits as well as the bad.

I have way too much on. It’s stopping me being a friend, a daughter, a girlfriend, and a person.

Autopilot is also dangerous. I LITERALLY nearly killed my girlfriend last night.

We were trying to clean up the house after a weekend of wedding related shenanigans and for some reason I thought it was a really good idea to put three rolling pins on top of the highest cupboard in the kitchen.

Rolling pins roll.

Clearly didn’t think that one through.

The gf was sat on the floor doing girlfriend like things, and as I reached up to get something from behind the rolling pins I inadvertently knocked the rolling pins off.

With a disengaged brain I was unable to think of the word ‘move’ quick enough to scream it, so I just screamed some nonsensical gibberish word. Luckily enough she moved her head in time and only got her arm bashed.

But seriously what was I thinking?! Or not thinking more to the point.

Today I found myself having driven from one work location to another with literally no idea how I got there. More to the point I realised after I had just come off a roundabout, and I wasn’t even sure if I had looked in the right direction to check to see if anything was coming. I still couldn’t tell you if anything had been coming. Obviously not because I didn’t get hit. But not really the point

I must be on crack. I could have got myself killed!

I seriously need a metaphorical slap in the chops to snap out of autopilot. I might be having an existential crisis, but I sure as hell ain’t suicidal!

I am not sure where autopilot comes from, but I am going to blame mine on

a) the existential crisis

b) wedding brain. I liken this to something akin to baby brain. Clearly never having kids I have no evidence for this, however, I am emotionally unstable, practically senile, on autopilot, and lost any ounce of what little common sense I had.

c) the Molotov cocktail of painkillers (trying to numb the week long headache) and the glass of wine I keep necking when I get in from work.

Speaking of, I think its wine o’clock…

Existentially bored.

Forget mid life crisis, I am having a mid twenty something post university, pre marriage existential crisis.

This blog (and many more in the same vein to come I imagine) were always coming, and in some senses the probably the foundation for why I am writing in the first place.

I am lost.

There I said it.

Once upon a time… I wanted to be an actress, then a psychiatrist, then a psychologist, then a doctor, then an academic, then a Vice Chancellor, then a politician. Then I got lost.

I took so many turns I got lost and tangled up in a big mess of Sacha, then I stopped following my dream.

Now I have forgotten what it was. Literally.

Existential Crisis

I am not asking for sympathy. I don’t need it. I am lucky, I am employed for a start, with the British economic climate in the shit state that it is I should be thankful; and I am. I have food and a roof, a loving partner and two adorable baby substitutes in the form of cats! Thats an awful lot more than most people in the world. So I am not complaining. I am aware that this is a first world problem. But it’s my crisis, and I am working on it!

Beside this feels more like pondering.

Technically I ought to be fortunate and grateful for the position I am in. I am on a pretty prestigious scheme and work towards being a manager over a couple of years, jump several pay packets and get more qualifications.

Thats all great.

But I am STILL bored.

I don’t cope well bored. I turn into one of those really annoying disruptive kids in school that everyone hated despite secretly finding really funny.

annoying, you know you shouldn't laugh, but you just can't help it!

Technically I have a direction. A public sector direction. BORED

I am a hardworking  tortured public sector bureaucrat (PSB).  Theres always lots of work to do. I don’t think anyone is really ever sure what that work is, there seems to be a general vague malaise that follows us PSBs around. Most of the time no one can come up with a real answer as to why they are doing something, or who it is thats going to read their work.

Classic example I spent 3 and a half working days writing a board report. Took the report to board, spent approximately 1.5 minutes in the board room and left again. No one had read the paper and it got passed anyway. Shocking really. But this isn’t a rant about the public sector.

Theres work, lots of it. But its BORING; and this is really my point.

I am not sure how one finds their purpose? I seem to be questioning everything.

(God, I am so middle aged. Aren’t I supposed to be out getting pissed and doing irresponsible things at the weekends and not questioning life?)

Starting with the obvious ‘where do we come from?’ I set myself the challenge of reading, the bible, the Koran, the Torah, and Chariot of the Gods by Erich Von Daniken.

The latter being one of the books describing an alternate history linked to alien visits and one of the books behind the film prometheus.

Anyway, not having a direction fucks you up! It changes everything.

How am I supposed to get up in the morning and ‘do’ life without a serious direction. I am wasting precious minutes and seconds with no core purpose, no challenge, no direction and no goal.

I am BORED.

On the verge of mental anarchy and I pity the person I explode on.

I need a goal.

I am officially sending out an

S.O.S

I need to find a direction. It makes me want to vomit  and punch myself in the face to even say this; because I hate cliches, but, “I need to find myself”

vom.

Anyone with a quick fix will be my new have person! Answers on a postcard. Or alternatively posted below 😛

Finally a Priest on our side

Just to point out, not all vicars are as bigoted as the Church of England is claiming.

Loving the following article which can be found here:

http://menmedia.co.uk/glossopadvertiser/news/s/1581312_vicar-starts-petition-over-outrageous-claims-by-church-of-england

In which a vicar has lashed out at his own Church for its comments and response to the consultation. The vicar said that the Churches comments incited a “breeding ground for homophobia

The vicar has even gone as far as to start a petition in protest of the Church of England’s comments.

Last church vs homosexuality post I promise… well at least till the consultation results are out anyway!

Too gay to be straight? too straight to be gay?

Why is it that so many sects of society are so clicky?? lesbians are literally the worst. How do we ever manage to date anyone new…. oh wait… we don’t… we end up sleeping with so many of our friends! (jokes)…. (mostly)

It annoys me that even lesbians pigeon hole each other… oh your a lipstick lez, oh your a vintage lez, oh your butch.

Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s comforting and nice to be pigeon holed, you can be proud of it, or meet similar friends etc etc.

BUT

I seemed to find myself in this odd situation where I am not really pigeon holed into any group.

Potentially a good thing; but in reality a massive problem.

When I go out now, people seem to give me odd looks. They just aren’t sure. They can’t put me in a box, I don’t quite fit a niche.

If I am in a straight bar, I don’t look straight, and therefore I don’t really get attention from men (thank god) but   it almost makes people uncomfortable that they aren’t really sure ‘what i am’. I sort of look like a lesbian, I have a patch of shaved hair, and wear trousers…. but I still look too feminine. Not that lesbians can’t be feminine, but thats often the stereotype straight people have.

Thing is, when I go to gay bars, lesbians don’t really think I am gay either. They also aren’t really sure, so I don’t get attention from them either!

I feel like I am in some kind of void of ‘unidentifiable’. Now I don’t really mind, because I won’t be changing to fit in a box, and luckily I have a wonderful girlfriend so don’t need any attention anyway. But it is a little frustrating when I am proud to be gay, I don’t necessarily want people to automatically pigeon hole me, but at the same time it would be nice to feel like I ‘fit’, and not to have those awkward stares when people are trying to work me out!!

Is it just me? Does anyone else ever find this?