new poem written just now

spare me your guilt
and your broken words
that hang on the wall
around your heart
spare me the pity
that shows in your eyes
as i quietly fall apart

take back the plans
those warm summer days
when we walked
and laughed and larked
all the times
when the love would shine
in your eyes
the same love
that now tears me apart

spare me the sorry
of the last sad goodbye
let this hurt
leave it's own mark
but spare me a thought
in those quiet lonely times
when you lie
all alone in the dark

why is the question so whats the answer

for the past couple of  nights my head has been filled with thoughts all rummaging about trying to find a way to the surface . none of them made much sense , they still don't not really . maybe this is all to do with the ending of another year , another chapter if you will . maybe i just feel the need to explain myself more maybe it's neither of those things i don't know .
what i do know is that my life is moving on and im not sure which way it will go or if i will lead this change willingly or not . some times it seems that my life is like a loose flap of carpet . you roll a desk chair over it it moves , you catch a glimpse of the floor boards and then you spend all your time trying to stamp it back into place again but it never sticks right and then every so often it moves little by little .
so here it is a new year fast approaching . what do i change? what plans do i make? what lists do i draw up? what hopes do i have ?
what does anyone hope for ? love ? happines ? health ? success ?
i'm not sure about me and what my hopes are . they may become clear . i may suddenly wake up , jump from my bed and have a plan . right now i'm not sure . i caught sight of myself in the mirror on the medicine cabinet in the downstairs loo earlier. i'm still haunted by my own eyes as they looked back at me , lost and sad as if all hope had been sucked away and i was left with emptiness . maybe something inside me broke and it's waiting to be fixed again .
life is full of maybe's isn't it . people say that anything is possible but what does anything look like ? what does it feel like ? and what happens if anything lets you down and becomes nothing ? strange food for thought you change one word and the whole outlook changes with it . that means that if nothing is possible then all you are left with are snap shots of your life and your memories .
food for thought in deed . that would leave me in the middle of an unfinished love story still hoping for a happy ending and surrounded by my memories of the times that i smiled and laughed and felt something other than blank .

well if this particular blog had taught me anything it had taught me never to blog when i have my pondering pants on . too many questions and not enough answers and no magic wand .

i came i thought i blogged

drunk poem

let me capture this dream
just for a moment
just so i can believe it
let me hold this memory
just a little while longer
just so i can smile a while

let me have these feelings
so they warm my soul
don't take them from me
not just yet
i still need the hope
to breath a little longer
without you

maybe a poem maybe not

we kissed
we touched
we laughed
i cried
we came together
we fell apart
i broke

you built a wall
i couldn't climb
i hoped
i waited
i stayed
you moved on
now i'm left with memories

a phobia less traveled

well here we are again on another day in another time and it's still cold. you find me telly on and not dressed unless you count a pair of thermal winnie the pooh pj's zebra print bed socks and a big dressing gown .yes i am a vision of attractive loveliness right now but this has been playing on my mind. i really wanted to write something to try and explain my fear of heights . i've had this fear since childhood but it's something that limits me in a lot of ways. if you Google fear of heights you get a big Latin name beginning with the letter a and an explanation . the only problem with this is that the explanation suggests that its a fear of being somewhere high up and looking down . well trust me to be different i guess. yes i dont enjoy standing anywhere high and looking down or around me unless i have something to hold on to that grounds me but that isnt a fear that stops me doing much. this is something different. it is a fear of high ceilings and open spaces.
over the years it has stopped me doing so much that i would want to. from things like visiting art galleries and museums to changing a light bulb and being able to go up into my loft. i can't climb up a ladder or even stand on a chair without having to really concentrate on not freaking out and freezing and having to get rescued. if i ever did go anywhere that had a ceiling that was what i thought of as high i would need someone with me to hold on to, they couldn't walk too fast or i would think i was being pulled and i would panic. putting it bluntly at my worst i look like i've been let out of an institution for the day i shuffle as if i'm wearing slippers i look only at my feet ( not a good thing when your walking around a museum and all you see is your feet ) and i hold onto whom ever i have with me for dear life.
this week however i have challenged myself . i decided that i wanted to go and see someone who is very special to me. i hadn't sen them for a while and you get to the point sometimes when you have this selfish feeling that they are who you need to be around. when you can talk to them on the phone and hear that they are having a hard time and you want to be there for them. so many times in the past i have wanted to be there and haven't been able to because of this fear of traveling this fear of the unknown .
years ago i did attempt to get on a train well actually a couple of trains and go down and see him. i got as far as Victoria station thought i was doing really well until i went from the underground station to the over ground one. well just thinking about it makes my stomach drop. the ceiling in that building is huge to say the least. i think i got about ten or so steps into the station before is froze and was blanketed in panic , my hearty was racing and i was in danger of just not being able to move. i had to dig my finger nails into the palm of my hand look at the floor and walk out backwards because i didnt dare turn round, not sure i was popular with the rest of the travelers that day but i just needed to get out of there. i ended up having to make a paniced phone call and luckily he came to rescue me . took him an hour to get there but he came.
i didnt want that to happen years later with this time. this was something i wanted to do for him because i knew i needed to see him and spend some time, but more importantly for me so i knew i could do it and prove something to myself.
so wednesday after a had Googled the route and packed a bag i left my house. i had tried not to think about the route too much or the journey because i didnt want to panic about things that may not happen. you could say i was very focused. now the underground part of the journey was fine i had done this before and knew exactly where i was going. then i got to london bridge station and it got interesting. not only did i not know exactly where i was going and so didnt know the height of the ceilings or the layout very well ( problem number one ) it has escelaters not just little ones where you take a breath find your footing and then your fine but the sort that go into the bowels of hell . these are the ones where you can't see the top of them you know you have to get on but then so do the other million of people pushing and tutting their way through the station.
so deep breath was taken as i and the rest of the british public headed for this thing. i didnt have time to take a breath before i got shuffled on by the weight of the people behind me. i held on and watched my feet trying to remember to breath and going hot and cold. then number two slightly more shaky breathing heavier and trying now not to pass out or cry and wet myself in fear. but i made it . it was at this point i had no idea where i had to go to next i needed to get a ticket for the last leg of the journey i had no idea where the over land trains went from or where the ticket place was. so i went and asked in a rather shaky voice one of the station staff who was very nice as this small shaking slightly tearful person began asking advice. he only looked at me  like i was a little mad when i asked him how high the ceiling was in the other part of the station. so assured that it wouldnt be as high as Victoria i slowly made my way to escellater number three.
the ceiling was getting bigger by the mile and then there was this thing . i couldnt see the top of it at all there was nothing to hold on to to take a breath and right now i was in danger of freezing up altogether. i knew i had to find a way out and soon as other people pushed past me annoyed that i was stood in the middle of nowhere looking like a complete plank .
thank god i managed to get myself away from there and find my way to the outside of that station . by this time i was shaking like a leaf, so much so that it took a while for me to be able to light and smoke a ciggarette. then i had to take a deep breath and go back in again . i had to do this. thank god i was able to text a friend and talk to her . it was one of those failure is not an option moments. i knew no one was about to rescue me and well frankly i had to grow a pair and get on with it. so back i went to the escelater from hell . deep breaths and i was one holding onto the side for dear life and trying not to see how high the ceiling was. ok it wasn't as bad as it could have been but there was nothing to hold on to when i got off at the top. twelve deep breaths and six shuffling steps i find a pole by the end of the escelaters and grab on to that for dear life as i slowly turn round and carefully look about me. this is where i started talking to myself. infront of me there were a line of shops that means lower ceilings and twenty steps separated me from them. only twenty steps but at this point i wasn't sure i was going to be able to move at all. i was in danger of freezing completely right by the escelaters, but no it was one of those three two one countdown situations and then i put one foot infront of the other breathed deeply , well probably sounded by this time like i was about to give birth but hell i was moving.
i was also watching the floor going in a dead straight line and muttering to myself . so getting to the shops i then saw where the ticket office was and slowly made my way there after first glancing to see where the actual train platforms were to. so ticket got platform number now discovered i have to turn and go back over the high ceiling part to get to the trains. i have also been told i have five minutes ( no presssure then ) before the next train goes. so i cant see the platform . i ask . im told its up some nasty looking stairs right at the end of the platform in front of me. im not going to faint i want to i really want to , i'm not shaking like a leaf im in danger of falling over im so damn shaky i want to cry i wont but i bloody want to. and now i have to climb stairs. more muttering , more heavy breathing and for an extra push the finger nails have been dug into each palm as far as they can go. that way i get to think about the pain in my hand and not the fact that i was to curl up and rock in a corner. three flights of stirs two up one down and then im on the platform. the train is there quick check to make sure its the right one and i get on. find a seat sit down and breath.
i had done it. i was sweating like you wouldnt believe i was shaking like a leaf i looked quite frankly like i was on the run from something but and big but i had done it. i didnt cry i didnt freeze up and i didnt loose it .
for anyone with a phobia that is major . for someone who untill five or so years ago couldnt stand on a chair to change a light bulb or who doesnt knew what the inside of her loft looks like because she cant get on a ladder. for someone who never climbed a tree or a climbing frame as a child because of this fear  its a huge thing to have done. thats why i wanted to share it.
so when i say i dont do high ceilings i really don't i struggle with it daily but hell if i have to i am guessing i can . the trick now is to keep doing it .
so until next time dear readers these pants have left the building.

it's those little things that make the big things special

so right now i sit here looking rather Dickensian wrapped in a blanket in my arctic palace , a thoughtful smile and a mug of tea as i write this.
yes its damn chuffing cold right now but i have realized in these last couple of weeks that it's the small things that happen which make life special. moments like the welcome hug you get after four hours on a coach with a small fluffy nine yr old who suffers from travel sickness . it's the feeling that your home in another house with people that you have quickly grown the love and respect . it's watching your small fluffy son who is scared around dogs become best buddies with not one but two dogs over a weekend of walks and games . then seeing him sitting on the sofa with a dog on his lap and a smile on his face and the feeling of pride you get when you know that he has overcome a fear and you were there when he did .
then there are the unexpected phone calls from someone . Maybe they are a friend that just seems to know when you need them and they phone to see how you are . right now i can say that i am lucky enough to have friends like these that make me smile and that i thank my lucky stars i have them in my life.
i have to say that i'm not used to having such good friends around me . it's still a new thing for me to have people that i can trust with my thoughts. even so i am always mindful of maybe somehow disappointing them and loosing their respect and their trust. it is with this in mind that the next bit is written.
because there are also those times that you want to lock away from the world and keep inside yourself . those times when someone special calls out of the blue and makes you smile that little bit brighter. those moments when you see them and for a moment the world tilts a little until they hug you. then it's ok again. times when they call you to see what your doing and then the weekend that you had imagined being on your own changes. i have just had one of those weekends. from the surprise call, that first panic when you suddenly realize that you look like a bit of a train wreck and they are on their way . you can't locate your makeup , your underwear doesn't match and there is a hole in your sock. yes its stupid after all they have seen you first thing in the morning but you still want to look your best even after all this time and all the complications that have gone along.
and then they are there and you are on your way to spending the weekend at their home and the hole in your sock doesn't matter at all. then the weekend is just an album of snap shots . being curled up infront of a film wrapped around each other a smudge of melted chocolate down your jumper that he thinks is cute and rather funny. falling asleep with your head on their shoulder and only waking once they have stolen the whole of the duvet and parts of you are in danger of hyperthermia. shopping in the cold and walking hand in hand with them, with the hand that they are holding  kept warm by not only their hand but in the pocket of their coat as well. sensing them watching you and glancing over to see them smile at you . it's those times when you really know that your lucky .
so dear readers it's those little things , those special times with friends and the people that count in your life that make you blessed. it's not money or grand gestures . it's the little things that make the big things special .

it's been a while

dear readers it's been some time since my last blog .
so is this a blog or a confessional i wonder ? probably a bit of both . so what have i been doing ? how have i been feeling ? whatever happened to those blogging poetic pants?

the answer to that is rather a lot of things have happened some good some not so good , and im still trying to make sense of some of those things .it's strange i'm sitting here having decided that i would make tea and the kettle hasn't even gone on yet . i have been distracted by the sudden need to blog and be damned .
well first things first about a month ago i morphed from hermit pants to the traveling pants . not a big thing for most but for me this was huge . firstly i'm a terrible traveler i hate going anywhere i don't know, i have never traveled alone which is a sad thing for a thirty eight year old to admit to and if i were a cat i would probably have to be sedated to get me anywhere at all . But travel i did all the way to Derby to visit probably some of the nicest kindest most wonderful people ever put on this earth . I had never met them before we had talked on the phone and texted and tweeted in abundance but face to face , that was something that we hadn't done .
a four hour rather squashed coach trip later and with a numb backside , desperately needing a wee and feeling horribly nervous there i was at the coach station hoping that they would like me . From the first hug as soon as i met them i knew it would be alright. Karen and her lovely hubby Andy were so lovely , so friendly, so calming it seemed that this wasn't the first time at all it didnt feel like we had only just met and i felt immediately at home. so much so that after three hours of constant taking Andy even lent me his i pad so i could use twitter for the weekend . as soon as i had that and Karen had her's on silence fell only to be punctuated by Andy observing " oo it's gone quiet "

the rest of that weekend was probably the best weekend i had ever had . i felt so at phone at their house . i was spoilt rotten something that i'm not used to happening at all. even to the point of on sunday morning having toasted solders with my boiled eggs . at one point Karen said to me " you know your part of the family now your even talking to the dogs " and it was true i felt like i'd always been there and i really didnt want to come home .
it's weekends like that that make you realise the meaning of having true friends , the kind of friends that you wish were your family because they accept you when your family didn't. in two weeks i will be traveling up again to see them and this time i am bringing the fluffy one . i have a sneaking feeling that i wont be the one getting the royal treatment this time mind you. i have a feeling that this time it will be the turn of the fluffy one to experience the red carpet welcome .
after that i then went on and did another new thing for me and had a friend stay over at pants palace for the weekend . this was another new thing for me i'm usually so solitary but this made a lovely change. this time i got to cook and make someone feel welcome at my home . we spent the night chatting till the early hours and it was a really relaxing evening and next day . even when fluffy decided to make up a game that involved throwing a plastic ball across the frontroom and everytime you threw it you had to say the nine year old equivilant of a rude word . its actually quite liberating lobbing a ball at someone and yelling boobies at the top of your voice and then laughing like a school child.

but in every life a little rain must fall in my case it seems to be monsoon season as i have had to battle with various large government facilites this week and in the past month . now judge me on this if you want to but i am not someone who embraces change infact i am someone who runs screaming from it in fear of my life most of the time. have i always been this way ? yes yes i have and i will admit that freely to anyone who will listen . i am used to things being a certain way and no amount of reassurence that there are people to help you change is going to make me feel any differently. so to me being eased back into work filled me with insomnia-tic horror . yes that sounds bad saying that but walk a mile in my shoes and you may see why . just because i dont have a drug or drink problem and i can string a sentence together and i present myself a certain way does not mean that i am well enough for work . i have lain awake for months worrying about this . i dont have a bank account i dont own a c.v. i actually at one point trusted the job centre to help me and went to an appointment for them to be able to put one together for me . i never saw it again after the woman that i saw looked at what i had cobbled together frowned wrote all over it, made me fill out several forms and then promised to email the finished article . well two months on and nothing so that was the shred of hope that they actually meant what they said when they told me on several occasions that they were here to help . clearly they weren't at all . not only did they not do what they had promised they also misinformed me of my options and only chose to imform me on thursday of this week after they had to take me into a little sideroom as i had a minor melt down that i indeed did have options and none of those options would mean i would have to fill anything in at all.
so for the past few very draining days i have been battling a system that i neither understand nor do i trust while feeling like i want to cry  and curl up into a corner , while having the reoccurring nightmare that i would not only loose my home but my son aswell . and all the while this was going on i still had to appear normal infront of a nine year old that needs me as a nondribbling parent .
i thought i was doing ok until i went to get what i like to refer to as being shrink wrapped and the first thing that my lady says to me is are you eating you look very thin. . tis to be fair was before i went a brought and ate my way threw a family sized coffee cake and four flakes and a tin of soup . even so it's not what you want to hear after a six week absence from shrink wrapping really.
anyway this week draws to a close disaster for the moment has been averted and battle will again begin next week. all i can say is thank god for people that care, they ones that took the time to check i was ok either by phone or via twitter without you i would be truly alone . strangely but not surprisingly non of these people has been related to me at all infact i have not spoken to my family in weeks that is another story for another day .
so that has been me fighting to keep afloat a bit of a swan. outwardly calm inwardly paddling upstream fighting a tide that threatens to overwhelm me . so far though i havent let it . truth be told i'm not sure how much fight i have left , i may even start looking down the cracks of the sofa because you never know what you may find there . until next time these pants are retreating battered but so far not broken .

the curse of the follow friday

 yes it's friday in twitterville and that can only mean one thing . follow friday is upon us again. having missed the last three fridays and not having mentioned anyone at all i lay awake last night and wondered how i would get through another friday without doing a follow friday . you see i have tried wrting a list of all the people that i follow , my hand cramped i spelt several of the names wrong and i gave myself a headache . it was suggested i make a list and put all my favorite people on it and then link it to something although i'm not sure what i was supposed to link it to. anyone that knows me  will understand that i'm not technically minded in fact my tiny little brain doesn't work like that . so in stead here is what i have come up with a blog that says thank you for following , listening and enjoying what i do .

MY THANK YOU

to all of you that i speak to and laugh with,
to everyone who enjoys my blogging.
you all make my life that much brighter.
you have never judged me and have always excepted me for who i am .
so this goes out to everyone of you.
i can't thank you all enough for making me feel like i belong somewhere.
 now i'm a part of something great and it's you guys that have made it for me . so thank you everyone .
now my days aren't quite as lonely or long as they were .
 and it's all down to the people of twitter who have made me smile and laugh who have touched me with their kindness .

so thank you one and all .

pants xxxx

dental fluff

so today at pants palace is was the day of the dentist for the fluffy one . having had one of his teeth hit full on by a football last week and his usual dentist not being willing to see him at short notice i wandered him to mine cheeky yes but hey if you don't ask you don't get and i asked and i got. anyhow an hour several xrays , a long chat with the dentist about football and giggling that the xray of his teeth looked like fingers fluffy was told to come back today .
so back we went after school . the fluffy one used to filling his little face as soon as he gets out of school was mightily put out that i wouldn't let him eat anything before he got prodded , but after a few minutes face pulling he coped with the disappointment . we got to the dentist early . now when i say early i mean i couldn't remember what time i had booked couldn't find the appointment card in the carnage at pants palace and guessed the time. we were forty five minutes early. so to waste a little time fluffy asked if he could be a proper patient at my dentist because and quote fluffy ,
"My dentist is nasty . i like you better ."
that was the sentence that sealed the deal.now the fluffy one is a fully fledged member of my dentist and very happy he is to. while we sat there he discovered that some of his friends from school go there . the waiting room became like a social networking site for nine year olds at one point ,but as they all got seen one by one we were still waiting.
fluffy is a fidget a terrible fidget if there is a button he'll press it, a blind he'll pull it. at one point he went over to the counter and began prodding about to see what was on there. on the counter he found a pen attached to a chain and a ball that held the pen. fluffy being fluffy pulled the chain and the whole thing came off the counter and into his hand. glancing at the bottom of he announced,
"eww minging it's got chewing gum stuck to the bottom."
only to be told by the rather stern receptionist that it wasn't chewing gum but white tack.
by this point i had my head in my hands and was sliding into the chair in shame.
so replacing the pen and ball on the counter fluffy then checked under the chairs for gum danced to the radio while i died quietly inside.
i was so glad when we were called.
first thing fluffy notices is that the chair has changed colour from last week. now its red instead of green. he points this out to the dentist who tells him that it's to go with his school uniform which is red and grey. then fluffy looks out of the windows and asks what all the building work is for, to which the dentist who impresses me with his imagination replies, well we are making some more rooms. we knew you were coming back so we thought we'd make more room so when you get bigger you can still come to see us.
fluffy was suitably impressed by the answer and the following talk of paint colours that went with it .
and then the examination begins with fluffy pointing to parts of the dentists long line of buttons and gadgets and wanting to know which ones are about to be used on him. was he going to get the air that tickles or the scrappy thing ? where was the xray machine in this room ? why did they have water ? which button moved the chair and could he have some glasses for his eyes .
well his teeth are fine and he will be back in six months to see them . he promises faithfully to clean his teeth morning and night , and next time the dentist told him he could operate the chair and the light .
this is the dentist that small boys dreams are made of and fluffy is a very happy small boy right now.
so until next time dear readers the pants have left the building .

a lesson in depression

so it's nearly one o'clock in the morning and i am here . first time i've looked at the computer for a few days . the reason for this isn't because i have been busy but more because i've been ill. in fact i still am . depression is the name of this game and right now i'm loosing the battle.
now when you say your feeling depressed what usually springs to mind ? are you just having an off few days ? can you just shake it off like a cold or another virus? the answer to that is no you can't. it drowns you sapping your energy so you feel like your drowning in soup. it shuts you down from the inside out. just imagine if you will the energiser bunny without the batteries . even the simplest of tasks seem monumental and you simply stop caring. in fact you stop feeling anything at all. it takes you over sucking the life out of you all your personality disappears little by little and then it has you this thing that hangs around your neck like a dead weight.
so that's what i'm fighting now. it's got to the point where i can't be who i am in the real world of in the virtual world of twitter. which is why i havent taken part in either.
someone once asked me if i wanted to be known for my writing or an illness. right now i guess that i will be known for both . because i write i can put into words emotions and feelings that maybe can't be as easy expressed by other people and that makes me lucky if a little tortured. so this is my way of trying to be as honest as i can be about something that has been part of my life since junior school .if i have let anyone down then i'm sorry that maybe i'm not the person you thought i was. that person is still there somewhere the funny happy one with a random outlook on life. it's just hiding for a while in a box somewhere in my mind while the dark half takes over for a while. it will be back sometimes this weight that i carry takes more time to shift than at other times but it will shift eventually.
the good news is that so far i haven't seen any faces in the furniture or forgotten how to do the simple things like make a cup of tea which in the past has happened. sounds funny now but then it wasn't funny at all. imagine seeing a face appear in a bean bag an angry face with pigtales glaring at you through the fabric . that's when you know you need help . but not this time not yet now while i can still get up in the morning and force myself down the stairs and try and fight little by little.
and fight i am and fight i will for i am more than an illness the illness is not more than me .

in reply to the blog up norths blog on daughters

as a daughter i had a very difficult time with my father . For many years i looked up to him , was in awe of him and always felt that i had somehow let him down . If it wasn't for my father and the way i had been brought up, i would never have had the privliage of being introduced to so much culture. we shared a love of classical music , art, museums, reading all the things that made me terribley unpopular at school.
as a teenager i rebelled, refusing to listen to him even disliking what he stood for and running from what he had shared with me.
now though when he isn't here the moments that we had , listening to opera, walking round the Tate gallery in london and immersing ourselves in the arts are the ones that i treasure. now as a daughter i can look back and thank him quietly for what we shared and what he taught me when he was alive.

if poetry was scotch this would knock your socks off and cost loads

these poems are from twelve years ago but reading them makes me smile still . they say some drinks age well . i'd like to think these have to so enjoy .


he stands among friends
but alone
pain and desolation a barrier
apparent yet impassable

a heart broken and bleeding
lying in a pool of tears
a silent scream
into an empty night

touch his pain
and bleed with him
then watch
as he turns in on himself

feel helpless
as you try to understand him
feel his need
and know it isn't you he craves

taste his longing
with your tongue
feel the agony
as it cuts like a knife
and hope
that it will soon be over

and know
that he stands among friends
but always alone

a life in the week of these pants

i realised or rather i have realised that for some time i haven't blogged at all. it's not as if i have nothing to say more that some of the things are too raw to speak of . but the week as past me by and pants world is as it was. so now maybe it is the time to write.
so here goes the attitude decided she wasn't ever coming home and so adulf has been in and out collecting things for her. as soon as i think i have a few hours spare i then get the call to say that he will be over and to put the kettle on for the inevitable coffee. adulf has his own coffee here he won't drink mine. when i am feeling murderous i give his coffee to other people instead of my cheaper brand . well it is the little things that keep me amused his did for seven yrs. so i have been subject to endless trampled stairs and mutterings about how much crap she has in her room.think the highlight for me when a rather white faced adulf came down and quietly gave me a packet of durex he had found in her room. that may well have been a u tube moment. first time i went into her room and opened the wardrobe it hit me that there was nothing there, my stomache hurt , the room spun, the world dropped a little and i had to shut the door of the room after just so i didn't have to see how empty it was.
so i had to do something to take my mind off things. and when things get like that quiet and i am in danger of thinking too much music is a good distraction. the thing is on further investigation of my cd collection i come to realise that most of the music i have seems to be in danger of wearing incontinence pants and dribbling into it's soup. ah well music is music so i spent a good few hours on my own with the music on full blast playing air guitar in my kitchen. unfortunately for me the back door was open and i was caught red faced by the neighbours not only playing air guitar but singing to. and all of that was only on the sunday . these pants still had to wonder into the exitment of another week.
the fluffy one went back to school this week complaining that none of hit jumpers or shirts fit him. he is lying ofcourse they do fit him it's just his arms are slightly too long thats all . so we now have the joy of the morning and afternoon school runs and all the wonders that they hold. i have decided that in order to remember all of what happens and what i think to take a notebook with me.
the highlight of today though was leaving my fluffy nine yr old in charge of iceland shopping for tea . i was expecting him to get the one pound pizza and leave but no . the first warning sign was when he got a basket out of the pile. i really should have known then but no i let that one slide. so pizza , garlic bread , chicken super noodles , box drinks and and everest of crisps later we were finally on our way home.
i had to break the news that the indestructable gold fish had finally expired two weeks after i finally nepalmed the dirt off the tank. he asked me where is was .
"Burial at sea ." was my reply
fluffy nodded sagely,
"you flushed him down the toilet then." he said
"mmmmm" was my reply
and now here we are and it's friday night. another week looms large in pants world but first i have a weekend to get through. a garden to mow, dead moths to hover up from my stairs where they all seem to go to die. sometimes i wish i planned more to do but weekends always seem to drag in at pants manor.
but until next time ladies and gentlemen the pants have left the building.

poems because all else has failed

and here it is
the last goodbye
as i wave away my heart
my hope walks away
but the memories stay
bitter sweet with longing
and cutting like knives
i'll cry no more tears
and wish you well
as emptiness crush's my soul
i'll always wish
i was more than this
as i say the last goodbye

a full on pants rant of epic proportions

so tonight some of us were worried about a friend of ours who hadn't been heard of for a while and we were wondering where he was. so we ask about and then it transpires that we have all been warned off "Bothering "him by someone that none of us know. this has ruffled a few feathers let me tell you.
certain things you need to know dear idiot.
number one who the hell gives you the right to dictate who we can or can't ask about?
i for one hold all my twitter friends in the highest of regard and would worry about any of them if i hadn't heard from them.when i wasn't on there for a while it was a lovely feeling to know that people had actually missed and worried about me.
he is our friend as well as yours and you certainly do not have a monopoly on his time none of us do. all we want to know is that he is safe and well. not because we are a bunch of fucking ambulance chasers waiting for the next car crash of events but because we care .
so don't you dare tell us who we can and can not ask about. don't you dare tell us people that i doubt you even follow to keep our noses out of his business and don't you dare ever try and tell us who we can or can't worry about or be concerned about.
who the fucking hell gave you the right to be that damn rude to people you don't even know. how dare you you bloody ignorant excuse of a human being.
no one upsets my friends and yes i class each and everyone of the people on there that i have the privilege to know and talk to as a friend. and you madam have now pissed off a whole lot of people x
and no damn one tells me or anyone who we can't be concerned about or care about.
so try and engage your brain next time before you tweet.
you know who you are. we know who you are and i for one really don't like your holier than fucking thou attitude.
so next time love sit on your damn hands .

the pants have spoken.

new poem

these are the hours
these lonely times
that haunt my soul
and your not there

these are the hours
that tears will fall
and hearts will ache
and your not there

yours was the chest
where i lay my head
the heartbeat that sang me to sleep
your lips were the lips
that i kissed goodnight

your smile was the smile
that sang to my soul
your arms were mine to hold

all of these things
now no longer mine
as the hours crawl by
and i wipe my tears
and ache
and your not here

pants poems that are actually quite good

haven't done one in a while so i thought i would share a little poem with you. enjoy.


i am locked away
failure eats at my soul
killing me inside
my life takes flight
eyes blank and weary
stained with disappointment
watch it flee
a black hole inside
opens like a lovers embrace
holding my soul
as failure fangs bared
feeds with bloody mouthfuls

for these are the pants

i sometimes wish that i was someone else but i'm not. i am me not always happy but always thinking. i dream but don't exist . i have dreams that don't come true . sometimes the world scares me because i don't understand what it wants me to do. but i try. i feel too much or not at all. there are times when i look in a mirror and i wonder who is staring back. there are times when i don't know myself, those times when you look into a mirror and all you see is a broken person drowning in their own pain. these are the times that haunt my soul. the times when the black dog took hold and tried to drown me. the times when i almost self destructed but managed to hold on. i'm still here.
for these are the pants that prevail. these are the pants that fight to retain their sanity when all around them expect them to fail. and i fight every day to know who i am and what i have become. i'm still growing and still learning and still fighting.
for these are the pants that are made for better times and greater things. don't judge these pants . they are not to be pitied or judged by anyone but the wearer of this soul. they have seen great things. they have loved with intense passion and have lost everything in the process. they have fought and survived and will continue to do so.
for these are the pants that maketh the woman who wears them. and she wears them with pride.
until next time.

a comp rant pissed off pants

how much do i hate computers right now? oh too much to mention but i will . they are not based on logic at all not pants logic anyway . they don't do what they should when you want them to. they have been created by one sad little man in a cell some where who hates people. everytime you think you have sussed them then this little man rubs his hands together and throws up something that you don't know can't understand and then your back to square one again.there are only so many times you can reset something only to have the same bloody problem. before you know it your head is hitting the desk over and over to get rid of the feeling of failure that sweeps your body. you mutter under your breath try hitting the keys that you should and you wait and hope and da da daaaaaaa nothing big fat nothing.
if i ever met the idiot who invented such stupid damn things that are supposed to be invented to enrich our lives i would drown him in paper and pens . now paper and pens i understand they have a use they are logical.. control alt delete isn't fucking logical an escape key isn't fucking logical. if an escape hey was logical it would then ask you where you wanted to damn well go. and i would answer anywhere that doesn't have a fucking computer that doesn't work when you want it to.
so darling computers next time i try and do something on here please please please actually work the way you should. do not throw up barriers that i don't understand or ask me questions that i don't have the answers to. because if next time that happens i will be looking in the yellow pages for a window repair person and you my dear computer will be lying in pieces on the driveway.
pants out.

weekend ( pants in love )

so friday night after a full three days deminging the house a row with the mad cat woman about the attitude with dinner done and still no mister a i was just about ready to carve off his bollocks and make myself new earings. and then there he was. stepping out of the car his two eldest daughters in tow and somehow nothing mattered. he was here a vision of lovelyness and i looked like a train wreck in tracksuit bottoms with strangly coloured hair. i hadn't seen the girls in over a year and they hadn't changed just got bigger . it had crossed my mind that because he had them to think about that we wouldn't be as close but it didn't matter.Funny how a hug a gentle hug because numpty mister a had bruised his ribs falling down a wet hill makes everything seem alright. or maybe i'm easily pleased. sleeping arrangements were discussed and sorted only because i'm clever and had thought of every angle. leave it to a bloke and you'd end up sleeping in the bath .
dinner was eaten around the kitchen table something never done in this house. mister a and i sat next to each other arms touching the whole time while everyone talked and joked and laughed. domestic bliss reigned in pants palace that night . that and alot of yo yoing. seems that everyone had a yo yo apart from yours truely . fluffy had to stand on a seat to get his to work because he is small. the others well it's a wonder i have any plates ect left. two over active teenage girls a fluffy nine yr old and mister a all with yo yo's in my kitchen the damn things flying everywhere. it was one of those times when beruit would have been quieter to be only because two of the damn things had lights and sounded like aircraft coming into land. finally at midnight kids were upstairs and we or rather he had the task of blowing up blow up bed with loud pump. thank god the kitchen still has it's door .
anyway at the risk of sounding boring we spent the rest of the night together talking laughing just us in our own little bubble.we tried watching a film but the same thing happened as it always does we saw the begining credits and the end credits the film got completely missed.
and that was the way it was the whole of the time he was here. the daytime we did things with the kids shopping went to see a film one night and bowling the next. when the kids were asleep it was just us. we would walk around town hand in hand, cuddle as we made tea washed up shouted at the kids, he fed me popcorn in the cinema and held me all night .
thanks to mister a my washing machine doesn't smell quite so bad because he took it apart and cleaned the pipes and the filter. my radiators have been sorted so they don't talk when you turn the heating on and my carpet in the front room has been put back together again.
thanks to mister a my smile is a little wider my heart is a little fuller than it as before and for the past three days and nights i have belonged somewhere to someone. someone who i can laugh with take the piss out of and believe me i did. someone who holds me as i make coffee who cooks with me and washes up. someone who knows me and who tells me that i am like his best friend but with benefits because his best mate is a bloke. and someone who although he doesnt say it because right now he can't misses me and cares about me maybe not in the way i do but i know that he does and that right now is good enough for me.
so to who ever is reading this and thinking what a load of old bollocks . no it's not bollocks it's my life and i will live it every treasured moment.
until next time the pants have left the building.

the names have been changed to protect the idiots

okay so today i thought i would give you all a run down of the names i use for the different people to feature in pants world. this is to help you dear readers of my blogs and my tweets so you know who everyone is even if they don't know themselves mwahahaha.
 the main players.

adulf - as you can guess he is an ex of mine not the brightest spark of the bunch but a source of amusement.
fluffy - son of adulf . blonde and fluffy and nine so still in training.
the attitude - teenage daughter need i say more ?
the stepford girlfriend - she cooks she cleans she sows she is everything i'm not apparently.

mister a - a very special man most of the poetry is about him. most of the angry rants are to.

 now for some people you may not have heard of yet but i'm sure they will feature at some point.

the mad cat woman of Uxbridge - or mcwou for short well with only 140 letters what can you do? my mother
                                                     a woman whose glass is always half full and who has cats lots of cats

corporate fat bloke  - or cfb for short my younger sucessful brother bit of a bell end but what can you do
H                            - wife of corporate fat bloke
stinkpants                - my five year old neice
fat boy                     - my little nephew he's nearly two

smeggy                     - my little sister thinner prettier (bitch )


so not the most amusing of blogs but now at least you know who i am talking about when i tweet . some of them know their nicknames others don't i'll let you guess which ones do .
until next time when hopefully i'll have something more amusing to blog about these pants are out of here

monday pants or should that be monday is pants?

so a day that started off in a bad mood has surprisingly so far been not so pants . After i finally shifted from the desk chair that seems to be surgically attached to my rear end and crawled up the stairs muttering about how i had wasted the whole damn morning sleeping, i attempted to get away with not having to wash my hair . alas it was not to be . i tried wetting it down as it looked like i had slept with my finger in a socket and then brushing it but the ending result looked like i had been raped by a badger not the look i was going for . so the shower went on and i burnt part of the skin from my scalp (wake up call ). yes my shower either freezes or burns there is no happy medium .
most of my clothes are either in the washing pile or the ironing pile so i look like a hobo today . and i'm suffering from piles, piles of washing and ironing sigh .so washing went on five minutes go past and i thjink that maybe it's not going to smell that bad and i can actually wash up before the first spin cycle. wrong so wrong. plug goes into the sink water starts running and then the spin cycle hits. i'm nearly blown off my feet by the wall of smell and retreat to the garden. swiftly followed by the fluffy one who is trying not to vomit by this point. you have to love a washing machine that can clear a building with one vengeful spin.
anyway finally smell clears the air returns to its normal colour and i am able to get washing up done. fluffy is in tidy mode only because i have told him that he can't watch summer slam before his half of our room is tidy the frontroom is clear and his homework is done. am i mean? maybe . did it work? oh yes .
so pants palace is calm and kind of tidy. i am sitting here with a dictionary on my lap checking spellings as i blog.
so my parting word for today is "wankel " dont ask me why but i came across it in this dictionary on my lap as i was looking for something else. funny how words with wank in them jump out at you or is it just me. probably just me then.
so until the next instalment of the life of pants these pants are out of action . enjoy.

sunday at pants manor

so here we are again me myself my computer the one thing i have a love hate relationship with that actually doesnt argue back . fluffy has left with adulf and will be back later strangely enough adulf was late to get him actually not strange at all seeing as adulf is an illiterate tossbag with no sense of time . he is supposed to be helping fluffy with his school project on penguins today . all he has to do is turn on a computer type in the word penguins and print out a load of different pictures. now for any normal person that would be simple but we are talking about adulf the man who can turn the simplest task into a rock opera of disaster and who tells me that he has taped programes on penguins for the fluffy one to watch . hello how the merry hell is that going to help him ? we need evidence that he has done a project and as we all know a project is a file full of information a contents page pictures and the written word its not sitting on your arse stuffing sweets and watching the telly. its going to be a long day i can feel it .
so i have a few hours to myself. now what to do .
i could write a few sonnets split an atom or two cure a few ills. i could but i wont.
instead i am taking part in a social experiment to see how much napalm it takes to clean three days old bean juice out of a saucepan. so far an hour of soaking in boiling water has produced nothing. i have to at some point unpack the fluffy ones suitcase. i also need to wash some clothes mainly because my wardrobe has more empty hangers in it than full ones . so i will be spending two hours with the windows open and a gas mask on while the air that i breath turns brown.
today i fear will not be a good day at pants palace. there is a strange smell coming from my kitchen it smells like buring rubber. have i left my pvc catsuit too near to something hot again ? i must go and investigate the source of that smell and then eat my body weight in monster munch .
so until next time dear readers the pants have left the building.

welcome to pantsville

well its quarter to two in the morning while most sensible people are sleeping i seem to be here . all is quiet in pants palace apart from the stop start tap of the keyboard the hum of the freezer and the flatulent creaking of my desk chair . yes if you have read mt tweets in the past you may have worked out that most things in this house dont work myself included, and the ones that do are flawed in some way. for example the flatulent washing machine that i so lovingly refer to, the fridge that freezes everything if you turn the dial above three the boy toy of a television that tends to switch itself off usually half way through something i want to watch..
even the upstairs toilet although since the attitude moved in with my mother there have been no what we term three day eventers to contend with.nothing in the house matches anything else it's either been begged borrowed or more likely stolen ( well not really just feels like it ) . i seem to hang on to objects longer than i hang on to the people who brought them into the house .
but those folks are all set for another day and another blog . right now i'm just setting the scene and hoping that it amuses . ive been told tonight that my tweets are funny. i dont really understand how or why but hey im not about to argue . i'm just me life kicked me in the balls so i cut them off and decided to wear them as ear rings . life wasnt happy at that apparently life is a midget and cant kick that far .
i suppose you have to have a sense of humour if you sleep in the same room as a small fluffy nine yr old who talks in his sleep. many nights i have been woken up by the shout of
"I want cheese!"
"It's my turn down the slide"
or my personal favorite
"Thats a big fart"
yes i know you got to love a mincing nine yr old who says little gems like that havent you ? looks around expectantly.
i have just realised that most of this has been loosely based on bodily functions . well if all else fails a fart joke usually wins most people around doesnt it . and if it does fail then fuck it i'll go back to being poetic either way the spelling is going to be questionable.
so this is me and this is pantsville a small palace in the arse end of no where coated with dust not particulary tidy but its mine and its home. its where i dream of other things and other places other lives while dragging a little humour out of my own.
so until next time ladies and gentlemen the pants have left the building

cant explain this one its the reason why i cant walk away

how to explain without turning to mush. well lets just say that sometimes someone enters your life turns it on its head and leaves their imprint on your soul. and i miss him every waking moment .

i was lost and broken
surrounded by my past
wounded by empty promises
living in the shadows of my shattered heart
then you found me
you made me safe once more
you mended my heart
with soft caresses
now it beats with yours
your hand held mine
and i belonged again
you rescued my soul from darkness
now i can see the sun
you ignited a flame inside me
now i burn for you
you showed me a love
i only ever dreamt
you chased away my past
now you are my future
thank you for saving me

think 2004 wasnt a good year for the pants

okay okay i know depressing poetry isnt everyones cup of tea but if you feel it then you write it and i did. this was the one i was looking for before i found the other one and blogged that . so this is how i feel today normal on the outside cloaked in misery on the inside.

look beyond the smiles
the laughter
what do you see
behind the happy facade
do you see a heart thats breaking
do you see a soul that bleeds
do you see the sorrow in my eyes
playing out the lost memories
like photographs
can you see the tear
falling down my cheek
can you imagine
my cries of pain
the madness lurking
within my soul
stabbing like shards of broken glass
when i laugh out loud
can you hear
the inner screams of loss
that come from deep within
or do you see only the outside
not beneath the skin

its not a good day today so more poems i think

written in 2004 but describes how i feel today .

take out your tongue
so i no longer scream your name
rip out my eyes
so i no longer see you leave
crush my heart
so it no longer beats with yours
keep my soul with you
as you walk away
leave me empty
bleeding
souless
crying bloody tears
lost without you
then close the door as you leave

not easy reading

hard to explain this next one . lets just say that sometimes life isnt the nicest place to be and leave it at that for now .

loneliness my friend
my festering cancer
my blackness
my own personal death
my bitter tormentor
my existence
my keeper
my prison

there is no white knight to save me now
too tired to save myself
from lingering death
eyes too dried to cry
a heart too weakened to care
a soul too wasted to survive
trapped and tortured
chained and bleeding
a slow suffercating death
with no end

yes more poems what i write

because my little brain only works on at least three cups of strong tea and i have only had two so far ,but wanted to do something to my little bloggy thing today before i forgot how i thought i would do some more poems . not because im showing off but just so you have an idea of what goes on inside my head on the occasion that something hits me . enjoy .

whose going to hold you
when the lights go out
whose going to wipe away your tears
whose going to hold you
when the lights go out
whose going to chase away your fears

whose going to love you
when the lights go out
who will you reach for in the cold
whose lips will you kiss
when the lights go out
who are you going to give your soul

i will hold you
when the lights go out
i will wipe away those tears
i will love you
when the lights go out
i will chase away your fears
kiss me as the lights go out
give your soul to me
for in the darkness and the cold
i will set your free

a little light poetry just because i can

thought i'd get beyond the swearing and the ranting and show you what i can actually do. so enjoy the fruits of pants labour .


i am a rock in the ocean
buffeted by the sea
i am a leaf
torn away from its branch
tossed in the wind
i am the memory 
now forgotten
i am the tear
that fell unchecked down your cheek
i am the hurt
that you hide inside yourself
i am the scream 
that is never heard
i am the soul 
lost forever
i am the past
the dimming photograph in your mind
i am nothing
but a shadow on your heart


enjoy this tiny part of my soul
ladies and gentlemen the pants have again left the building

holy fucking shit what an effort

well here it is the first of hopefully many pants rants as they will now be known. i am a self confessed techno stresshead, anything even vaguely computer leaves me in a cold sweat . this damn thing took three attempts now most of my furniture has foot prints on it bit i an here thanks in the most part by a very patient lady who is far brainier than i am.. people say that these things are idiot proof but are they pants proof ? that is the question and most of the time the answer is no they arent. they may be logical but i dont use that kind of logic if it doesnt make sense in my little brain its obviously broken or flawed in some way . or maybe i am the one that is broken and flawed ? mmmm probably .so now i have finally got here kicking screaming and protesting the whole time about how nothing is ever simple (well it isnt) i have suddenly realised that spending the whole day on the sofa snoring gives me nothing to say . shit i really am a sad boring hermit ( with great hair it has to be said ) who thinks too much day dreams in abundance and has made procrastination an art form. so with that i will go back shuffle my bum into my desk chair and see what hits me or not . untill next time the pants have left the building