Notes from the past

I love notes, especially notes that turn into ramblings that involve doodles and make little sense. I became quite the master of such notes when I worked in my lil shoe shop in Southampton. It was a tiny shop full of 'alternative' shoes and a lot of wooden beams. I worked there for a year and made some awesome friends. Here's a pic of me there:

As the shop was so petite, and I was the only full time member of staff when I took over as manager, I worked alone quite a lot. Sometimes for the whole day. And when you only have a handful of customers- it can get a little dull. Hence my note writing habit. I also have a habit of holding onto crap like that and putting it in cute memory boxes (I know, I'm mentally 10), so I stumbled upon them today and decided to publish my ramblings. Because it's funny- what you write when you think no one will ever read, isn't it? So lets go crazy and get people to read them....

This first one I entitled 'Shop Girl' (yuh, der).......

"Yellow sheets make my eyes sting, while chipped nail polish saddens the soul. Dust stuck to wood and gum stuck to floors. Too many boxes, never any space- we're all just playing tetras with our thoughts. Strangers make you run and look down at the one person with all the power. Silly rabbits. Desire feeds depression, but when will we learn? Not until we see the perfect shoe in our size."

Isn't it funny the crap your mind spits when its bored? The next one started as a shopping list then transformed into a teenage rant....

• " .........Chille burger things, yum.



• Blank CD's!!

Mmmm. Yay for food. Food is good. Sweet lord I'm bored and hungover- I think I might just die. Bollocks to that. Boredom strikes. You know like hunger used to in those shreddies adverts? I never liked shreddies. Except the chocolate ones. They were OK. I digress- boredom strikes and it sucks.

Is it sad that the highlight of my afternoon is catching the eye of the cute indie kid that works in Costa? Work is something we need to do to survive. If we all need to do it to live- why the fuck can't we think of a more fun way to do it? My current job isn't too bad. I'm managing a shoe shop full of skate brands and middle aged eccentrics. I can wear what I want, listen to my own music (really loud) and have the power to ban the shoe pervert. Things could be worse. But still, it's not what I want from life- it is a temporary arrangement before I put off the real world again by fucking off around the world for 6 months. And no, I'm not going to 'find myself' like some hippies, I'm going to spend half a year on a beach.

I'm in the real world now, I've graduated uni and it's pretty shit. I'm not done having fun. My ultimate career? Doing this for a living- writing narcissistic articles for the pleasure of a loving audience, (That's you BTW). But I'm sure even that would have its down sides. I just want to spend my life having fun- travelling, spontaneous road trips, house parties, attractive strangers, gigs, love- life! And I'm simply not willing to give that up to be an accountant crunching numbers for a quick buck. Fuck that. Fuck grey suits, fuck office life. And fuck growing up. We only have one life and I do not intend to waste it rotting in front of a computer."

Corrr, how angst ridden was that? Lovely. My last one I found was quite a pretty one, full of doodles and on the back of a flyer no less! Not entirely sure what I'm jabbering on about, but it sounds kinda profound...or something......maybe....

"Oi! Won't you please....take me to a windowless house in the country. Somewhere that will hold our love away from prying eyes. Take your shame with you and hold me until the world stops turning. Let's go to the beach. We can be five and stop playing these games that I tire of so easy. Come on now, let's have a bottle of wine to forget ourselves. Then maybe you will remember and ask yourself the question I ask everyday"

Here's a pic:

Oh and no- I do not know what the question was. And no, I wasn't dating anyone at the time....strange what your mind comes up with huh. I kinda miss those days...when there was time to stop thinking and note down any random thought that flew into your mind once you quietened it down. The best time to write is when your not thinking. So much more interesting I think. Anyway enough of my ramblings (until next time) off to think some less.

ta ta xx