Wednesday, 14 October 2009


WEEK 21 + 5 days

I thought I'd start a pregnancy blog. I am now quite a way into the third trimester, and I really wanted to make a point about breast enlargement. Previous to my pregnancy, I was wearing 36B and 36C bras. My partner, a few weeks ago, informed me that I was bursting out of these bras, so I went to Marks and Spencer to get remeasured, having absolutely no idea what size I had become. The young lady in the lingerie department measured me as a 36DD. I was shocked to say the least. I couldn't imagine myself being that large. So I ended up buying some maternity support bras.

Later, when I got home, I decided that I could do with saving the money and so decided to return the bras and to go on ebay. What a bargain! I bought a second-hand bra for 99p, which was an improvement on the £20 for 2 offer in Marks and Spencer. I then spent countless hours surfing the net for size guides. I became quite confused as I seemed to be between a 36 and 38. Today, however I decided that I was more of a 38 ( 33 cm below bust). I found a really helpful measuring guide on, that gave a more accurate measurement. I found myself to actually be more of a 38C, which seems right, as the 36 in Marks and Spencer was actually too tight, and the 38 D fitted nice under the ribcage with a little room for swelling, in the months to come. Then I found myself wondering if I had infact been a 38 for quite some time, but had been wearing inappropriate bras! What a shock!

So, here are my measurements of today

Under bust: 33 cm
Around bust: 40 cm

Most guides I have seen on the internet say you should add 5 cm to an under bust measurement if it is an uneven number and 4 cm to an even number to get your correct rib cage measurement. Then for every cm above this you add a cup size. If this were true I would be a 38 A/B. If this was really true the 38D in Marks and Spencer would have swamped me. That's why I was so relieved by BHS, as it seems to be on the right track.

Tuesday, 9 June 2009


I can't remember it in exact order:

I went back to high school. I told my English teacher that I was teaching English. I was being awarded a certificate for something unrelated to this, however. The School was very rowdy. For some reason some of us were going away somewhere. I didn't really know where. When we got off the plane. We arrived just after a football match between two English teams. For some reason when they were playing the ball turned into an orange. It made it hard for them to play. I think someone kicked the correct ball back into the pitch. So... when we arrived we were welcomed, by a woman in an hijab, to Iran! There was a hige number of people sitting in the seats of the stadium. We were in the middle of the pitch( me and a few people from my high school and Stephen and my old English teacher). I feel like we must be in Iran for a mission. One of the Iranian's looks at the sky and says that they are having an English Summer, because of the clouds. I state that we don't always have clouds, sometimes the sky is fully bluw, in the Summer. They seem hard to convince, Anyway, so we are led to our rooms. I remember seeing a clothes shop. All the clothes are hanging. The rooms in which we are staying are like a School dormitory. I think Marianne has fun looking at the cloths hanging. As we are looking around I keep seeing a little boy playing ( from Iran). We go to the beach and he pops up, out of nowhere, and says " Can I drink the water?" "No", one of us says. I am with my friends from highschool, when this happens. The night before I had been by my window and heard someone crying, i thought it might be the film I was watching about Oliver Twist, I paused to listen outside. It sounded like a woman/girl crying close by. I work out that it is however the music on the film and it is infact a little boy crying.

Friday, 5 June 2009


OK, I remember bits of my dream(s).

A beach, but the beach area is actually way too small. The waves keep coming in and we ( me and my friends... including Marianne) are afraid that the tides will come. And then obviously because I'm afraid it happens, the waves mount high, but not high enough to overpower. It is infact the whirlwind that these waves create that looks pretty deadly. There are quite a few small whirlwinds and they are coming towards the beach. We all decide to hide. There is the sound of screaming. I run into a toilet and put my hands against the skirting around one of the toilet doors, with my bum resting against the other. I notice that the toilet door is actually open. Marianne and another lady are by the sinks. I think about the door being open and that the whirlwind could come and get us! I think it does come through the door, but I'm not sure how it ends...

Another dream: I am with my little sister ( I don't actually have a little sister). She needs to go back to School. I want to go to the University part of the School. I am driving for part of my dream, again. We keep running late. Days pass and we still haven't gone to the School. I imagine that the headmistress must be quite impatient. I think about going there. We know that we must see the headmistress first before my little sister can enrol. Maybe I'm being out of line, however, in relation to myself? Maybe they can't accept me, as an older pupil. Maybe I don't have to see the headmistress? I don't want to do something stupid. hence staying at home for several days instead of comfrontation. I can see the pupils ( all girls) in Very strong Navy blue jumpers, skirts and socks. The tie is red. They look very formal.

Wednesday, 3 June 2009

Waking Up


Dreaming, dreams. I woke up this morning, to a heavy atmosphere. I had been dreaming about being at a church that I used to attend. In my dream I was with a female friend of mine and I managed to lose a tooth (second or third molar, in the right of my mouth). For some reason the cardinal/priest liked having it and I went to lengths to find it and take it from him and put it back in my mouth when no-one was looking. I went into a bathroom, but there were two ladies there. I found another bathroom. Eventually I managed to put it back in my mouth, but was worried about the cleanliness of it, but I put it in anyway. I could see some spots of blood, but I was sure that it was fine.


When I eventually got out of bed I looked up some of the symbols in my dream. To be honest, last night, I had watched "Angels and Demons" ( the film), at an Odeon cinema. I wasn't surpried that I had envisioned a cardinal, in full red apparel - but the tooth was another story. I had indeed gone to bed worrying about life. What was my tooth? Who was it that I held so dear and was worried about? Why did the cardinal love my tooth so dearly?

Wednesday, 27 May 2009

Hope for

I had determined not to love. Do you know why? Because everything I loved, I felt I lost. It fell away. I was rejected A LOT. So why care? We all die anyway? What's the point of tears? Who hears them? Unless.. you assume the case of a God. I do.. or did. Hmm , yes, but then... I felt rejected. So.. who cares? Not me, or... yes, actually, I do. I care a flipping lot ACTUALLY. As Freddy Mercury said " too much love WILL kill you everytime"- so why care? What's the point, unless we assume there is something to hope for? As the Bible says " Hope does not dissappoint". It is the hopeless that are empty of their dreams and ambitions. Think of The Neverending Story, where it states " people who have lost their dreams are easy to control". So,... who is your hope?

Tuesday, 26 May 2009


OK, I just deleted the last post, by accident. I don't really work on command or by sticking a camera in front of me so that I start singing ( YouTube). I like to mean something, which is why I make strange jokes most of the time, so that I don't have to!

I was just thinking about when I was at University and I joined a writer's workshop. We would have a word and then have several minutes to write whatever we wanted to as long as we got the word in ( if my memory does me right). I enjoyed it....

This is going to be completely random ( well not completely because there is always some reason in the universe), anyway....

I've really not got to care that you'll make fun of soft, sensitive me. Yes, I am. And in case you are wondering I'm the grumpy person who comes to the till, when shopping. Anyway...

EXERCISE 1: Random word, sitting on Paul's desk


There was a fight club on the corner. I'd never been in there but I had some pent up aggression that I thought was worth exfoliating on a willing victim. Hmmm... who could I ask? Maybe Patrick he was my golden retriever..hmmm, but I didn't think that they let in dogs. Anyway, so I decided to venture inside the building, a semi detached house, in Houndslow- ou excitement. Ben ( that was his name, he had a name tag- said it all, really). He was smiling too, with a relaxed expression. It was at this point that I wondered if all the people inside were on drugs. Oh yeah!-Fighting that's a drug.
" Heya..."
"Hello... I'm just looking around"
" That's cool, have a look...", Ben smiled and walked off. Yes, I thought, I have been left alone to wonder, I don't tend to be left alone in some shops to browse, and then they wonder why they have no customers. Hmm... people like to have a choice. Ok, so people are actually here because they want to be. I may want to be. Let's have a look. Hmm... there's a girl in black leggings, with dark, straight hair and a fit body in the corner kicking a punch bag. Hmmm, not for me then, I'm a bit smaller and less attractive. I don't want that sort of competition. Ben was quite fit, ah yes, probably married. I should have checked.



Curtains are for hiding windows, portals, to the soul. To withold from the audience what the author is really thinking. A story is like this, it cloaks itself, tied away from the constrants of the audience's minds, it finds true expression, in a medium that is not truly in itself well known or accomplished, until the curtain parts the seas, the stage, and the revealing commences. It is still in this sense a disguise and a diversion, a metaphor for thoughts that can only be expressed in the imagination.