Author: tiiroac

txting

becs is away from her pc, so I’ve recently been communicating witth her via mobile phone text messages – physically holding the phone to talk hurts my arm after a while. I’m getting rather fast at it, but the tning is texting is probably the most fiddly, frustrating acctivity ever! for a person used to a dock-off extended keyboard, to write anything using the three-press letter-sellection of mobile phones takes ages. to say anytthing of substance is nigh-on impossible. oddly, tho, the fact that Its becca I’m communicating with makkes these frustrations seem quite, quite insignificant.

wrong!

this yyear has provedd my assumptions are mostly pants! ok, so look at the following:

1. I assumed I wouldnt go 2 uni.

3. I assumed I’d not be popular

I assumed that i’d never get a girlfriend

I’d addumed i’d never ace an exam.

wrong! crap. matt assumed wrong. at the end of this year, I’m flourishing at university, surrounded by friends. I’m in line for a reasonable degree, and I have aan absoluttely wonderful girlfriend in becca, whom I adore. In short, right now life rules, and to think I was once so pessimuistic is laughable.

merry christmass everyone!

can we go florida?

Like most ppl, I read several peoples blogs – I just read my friend shannon’s. she’s in florida, and is one of the best damn writers I know [thereby re-igniting my faith in yanks]. without wanting to breach confidenntialitty – she’d kill me – her mosr recent entry has me fuming. My dad got katie uptight just by using the H-word; what shannon discribes hre, in my opinion, is far worse. in short, it ammounts to abuse, and makes me want to cross the atlantic and doo some unprintable things.

but somehow I doubt mumor dad will let me go on killing sprees in america, so I”ll just say to shannon that shhe has my respect, and can contact me any time she wants to.

rabbit proof fence

This film is an astoundingly beautiful film about 3 aboriginal girls who walk across Australia after forcibly being taken from their mothers. Its hard not to be sutured into the text, and I found myself getting very angry at the authorities. I wanted to stop them taking these kids away, through no reason other than racism. Some of the shooting is awe-inspiring. However, it was only when I watched the ‘making of’ documentary that I actually felt myself welling up with tears, forcing me to go telephone Becs,

Above all, though, this film is testament to the human spirit. For these girls to walk 1500 miles was phenomenal. Without doubt, their story had to be told.. ordinarily, I’d do a close textual analysis – or attempt one – but that can wait: this film is too beautiful to take apart.

Thanks, Becca, for a great Christmas present!

time to head home

one thing is certain, university rules. never have i worked so hard, or partied so much. but now its christmas, I think I need home. ok, I go there every weekend, but i’m kinda tired. I find myself thinking about the tree at home, the smell of mum’s cooking, seeing maark and luke. I really do love uni. never felt so free. went to a very cool party last night. got drunk. 🙂 sigh…but I think its time for a rest. dads picking me up tonight. time to unwind at home. and do some serious sleeping!

*cringes*

okok. this is embarrasing, but i only just realised. when becs said she was going to stay at her friend anne’s place, i thought fine. to be honest my prime concern was finding her house. but earlier today I was looking at becca’s livejournal, where she mentions anne’s full name: anne rae.

this name might not mean alot to most of you guys, but instantly a bell rang in my head. Mrs rae has written a vast amount concerned with disability, disability rights and inclusive education. she is a very VERY senior authority in the field.she is known nationally.

and my mum offered to help her make tea. oh god, talk about faux pas!!

mussaca du funnu

Havr just spent a very pleasant evening with becs. mum made a v. nice meal. i’m not a total gossip, so i’d raather keep the details between me and my girllfriend. Ii just want to say thhat right now, i’m one of the happuest and luckiest man on earth.

the brandies xmas disco

I’ve woken up early so I thought I may as well get up and do some blogging. Last night was the Christmas disco at the bar, and, you know me, I couldn’t resist the chance to dress up. Hey, I’m an extrovert!

Anyway, I’d been planning this since last week. I went shopping with Mark, my PA, and got some fairy wings and pink netting for a tutu. That evening, I asked my home-helpers if they knew a way of making the latter into a skirt: this seemed to excite them quite a bit, and they offered to make it. I got dad to make sure my pink leotard was ok to wear.

So, to cut a long story short, 7.30 last night saw me heading round to the bar in pink leotard, tutu and tights, the shades of which were all discordant so I looked rather garish and cool. I had my cute wings on. I sat down at the table with the usual carling, watching ‘the social’*. A while later, the party got going. In order to avoid getting chilled, I found a nice warm pipe to sit by.

Believe it or not, several girls danced with me, sort of “he looks so cute, lets dance with him” in a maternal kind of way. Everyone wants to mother me. Why?

Eventually, I found my cool Irish friends and got chatting. Did some more dancing, talking, etc. as the party wound down, they invited me over to the Kellick common room for more talking, but kellicks miles away so I had to say no thanks. One girl asked to buy my skirt – still thinking about that.

Well, that’s about it. A couple of friends walked me home, saying “I’d never be able to wear that outfit matt.” Got home, pulled off my costume (glitter everywhere), and went to bed. What a cool night!

* the weekly group piss-up of the football team. Bloody stupid if you ask me.

two heads are better than one

yesterday I spent the night talking to becs. we were having this great discussion in which we created a harry potter fanfic charachter, miles. we were wondering how the hogwarts staff would cope with a severely disabled student. miles has very severe cp, is noonverbal, and has learning disabilities. he reminds me of the PMLD kids at school, or ross down my road. it was great to see him being created during the course of the evening, with me and becca throwing ideas at eachother. the problm is, I can’t quite get inside miles’ head just yet. think I need to do some more exploring with becs before I/we write anything in full.

I wonder how people like professor snape would react to such kids. he reacted to miss stanhope badly enough, but she is both articulate and bitter enough to cope with him. either way, this willj most certainly be an interesting experiment.

bah

why is it that the one day that we go up to mancherster, beccas not in town? she’s at 1voice, in liverpool, i think. we’re going up there to see luke, cyril, and eevee, a distant cousin. summit like that anyway. dad has been spouting bullshit about beca not being really in love with me, or she’d try hardserr to see me. mind you he also threatened to pimp me. go figgure.

I really want to see becs. I mean really! hugging her i fee;l complete. she kissed me that night, and i felt my heart pound in my chest. that nght i descovered why man created poetry and song and all that is good. at one time, i thought all the world hollow – how can it bee, with people like rebecca younng in the world? definitely going to see her next week tho – as sure as th sun rises.

In the meantime, I’m looking forward to the christmass disco, for which i’m dressing up. if i dont catch pneumonia, it should be fun. i’ll tell you what i’m gonna wear later!

music – all you need is love, the beattles

No title

where do i start telling you about this week? its been cool. on tuesday I managed to get myself to a poetry reading, arranging a lift with my friend marcus. The pooetry reading went well. It was held at the local puub, off campus. wednesday night, went to the disco, as usual. established that two beers isdefinately my limit. ahem.

yesterday, I had dinner at the house of a ccouple of fellow students. they’re married with 3 kids. had quite a good eavening, even without my lihtwriter. we talked philosophy, I showed them my website. watched rich hall’s dvd.

god, I love uni!

no lightwriter

I’m afraid this is another ‘woe is me’ rant. my lightwriter broke on friday, and has to be sent for repar. So, this is it, no lightwriter all week, and, apart from esther, they don’t understand my voice. sorry to be such a drama queen, but this scares me. esther’s making me a letter board, which I used when I was ten, but such things are flawed. without my lightwriter, how will I proove to anyone that i’m anything other than a drooling moron. feel rather scared, but it’ll be an adventure.

No title

It has come to my attention that the following appeared on my friend kate’s blog:

“Perhaps 21 would also be a good age to learn how to spell!” if ever i find who wrote this, he or sshe would do well to hide. if, moreover, it is revealed to be one of mine own kindred, then I am ashamed. I would expect better. this really doe piss me off. Kate is bright, astute, and inteligent, and her spelling is nought save testimony to the abject failures of the special school system.

who wrote this?

making people cry (almost)

i was watching two of my friends playing pool last night, talking, and so forth. I still think its cool how accepted I am. however, at one point, my mate misses his shot.

“God! I’m being such a spastic tonight!”

“Oi!” I said, about to retort with something like “theres only one spastic around here”

but there was total silence. the poor fellow looked aghast, as if he had said something terrible. I really thought he was going to wet himself with fear. “oh god, oh god,

I’m so sorry matt!”

I just couldn’t keep my face straight. I howled with laughter – he looked as if he’d killed something..

what a noughty spastic I am.

hungry now

nobody has come to give me brekfast. this is worrying. without my shoes socks, lightwriter and umbag on, I can’t go get help. luckilly, I have plenty of food, including 2 pan au chocolat which a film studies tutor gave to me. the shoes might be more of a problem, and i find doing my clip of my lightwriter up simply impossible. oh gawd

lonely

y is it that not having spoken to becca all day leaves mee so lonely? i jusst have 2c ‘becca has just signed in’ and it warms my soul.

dear america

Do u not see what you’ve done here? Four more years of bush running roughshot over international law, making war as he pleases, will bring forth terrorist attacks that I dread to think of them. Your beloved country will become more and more a rogue as country after country is invaded on your petty whims.

You voted for this? Do you not see your savagery, your xenophobia, your stupidity? You voted for more war and bloodshed, more attacks, more savagery, all due to a misguided sense of patriotism.

So let the terrorists come. The more you attack, the more their numbers will swell. There is no brand of human marked terrorist – enrage anybody enough and they will fight. America has enraged many people, and they will come.

You fools. Do you not see you are being manipulated? The release of the bin laden message 5 days before the election was deliberately designed to cause a patriotic fervour, leading more people to vote for bush. I don’t know where that video came from – maybe tora bora, maybe the fox studios – but its effect could have been predicted. It could only inspire patriotic fevour, rather than fear, which would play right into bush’s hands. Bush knew this, Kerry knew this, and bin laden knew this. No doubt that video helped win bush the election, as well as his keeping America in a constant state of fear. It was this fear, and his vicious attacks on Kerry, which returned him too the white house, to make more war and ruin America.

I hope you’re proud.

i feel frustrated. still love becs tho, which makes everything seem ok!

of aliens and bunnies

In short, Wednesday ruled and was very dull at the same time. My new P.A came at 2pm, as predicted. The problem was, there was nothing to do: the film I wanted 2c wasn’t on anywhere in Cheshire, and poor Becs had a doctor’s appointment so I couldn’t go see her. I thought it necessary to give mark a tour of the campus, then we checked out the library to make sure “inside I’m dancing” wasn’t playing, which it wasn’t. In the end, I we borrowed a DVD of Alien from the library, and watched it on my computer.

However, I better explain something. Wednesday was the day of the Halloween disco, and I had packed my black leotard and a pair of thick tights in case I got chance to dress up. That morning, I had asked my home helper what I could wear with them, and she had bought a pair of pink bunny ears, bowtie and bob-tail for me. She said when the home helper came to give me my tea, she would help me change for the party.

But no home helper came, so I had to ask mark to give me my tea, and…err…I couldn’t waste the chance of going to the party dressed as a bunny girl, could I? Poor mark didn’t know what he’d got himself into! Oddly, though, he already knew the best way to put tights on, and a short while later, I was heading off to brandies bar, cute white tail attached to the back of my leotard by safety pin. I felt I looked pretty, and got many complements from the girls at the bar (most dressed as cats) and a few of the boys. My friends were very surprised, but I think they were cool with it.

However, better not wear my bunny girl outfit too often outside, as I am now nursing quite a bad cold. How girls do not die from the cold I do not know, but I must admit it was surprisingly comfortable. and yes, mum, i am doing SOME work.

PAPAPA

last night my parents came round to interview a prospective personal assistant. Things are already pretty cool here, bbut it’ll be nice to replace social services home help with my own helper. This wway I can get out more, say to the arthouse cinema iin stoke. Anyway, the interview went very well, and the vacancy was filled. Nice enough bloke, and I look forward to dealing with him.

It struck me tho, that when the time came to say goodbye to my parents, I didn’t start blubbing like I used to. Perhaps I’m getting more mature? err…perhaps not.

Mark, fancy a beer?

My email system at uni is still dodgy, so I’m writing this here because its the best way of getting infomation to the right people. I keep this blog for a laugh: to let family and friends know howI’m getting along, and what I think of stuff. I did not intend to hurt anyone through it, but I have. I grossly misrepresented the views of my father and older brother, who mean no harm to anyone, least of all Charlotte wyatt.I’m sorry for any offense my rediculous site has caused. ok the fight ends here. I need an’ug.

poetry night

Last night college had organised a poetry recital at a local pub, near uni. Robert, my teacher had had a word with me about it, and we agreed to meet at 7pm for him to drive me to the pub. Given that social services come to help me eat at 6.45, I decided to buy a sandwich at lunch for my tea. I can scoff sandwiches quite quickly.

6.45 came, and went. No helper.

50.nope

6.55. Uh oh. I decided to go out myself and try to eat on my own. I left a message about where I had gone with my flatmates, and headed, sandwich in hand, for the canteen.

Robert was already there, waiting. “I was getting worried” he said. I explained my predicament, and he very kindly offered to help me eat. Imagine it: one’s writing lecturer feeding you a ham and tomato buttie! It was almost surreal. I felt rather strange, and guilty.

The rest of the evening didn’t go too badly. The stairs in the pub which everyone except myself was worried about weren’t a problem. The poetry itself was first rate, and the student they had asked to introduce the thing did a fine job. There were many quite serious, deep poems – I felt like crying at one stage – but these were well balanced by comic poems. My own attempts were read by a mature student called John, and I think they were well received.

So, apart from the disaster at the beginning, and scaring tutors by going down the stairs on my arse, the evening went well. And, given my experience with something called a Diesel on Wednesday, I kept to the coke!

No title

I just found the following on an american site;

[quote]Mom and Claire’s brother watched the September 11th videos showing on tv. It is amazing how it affects you all over again, like maybe they just forgot how really bad it was… mom teared up and could hardly talk… it was just horrible for everyone. Prayers go out for those people… the victims and the survivors of this awful tragedy.[/quote] they show repeats of 9/11 on tv in the us. why? to stir up feelings? supprt for bush’s war. is this the state of american democracy? how very, very underhand.

No title

This morning, before esther arrived, I was hanging around th net and I came across this short film. It’s a parody of michael moore’s work, and draws a parelell between 9/11 and…wait for t…the battle of helm’s deep. even though it’s clearly pro-war and probably pro-bush, I cant help but love this film. I was amused to see their version of moore claiming that there was no link between sauron and saruman, and that Mordor was, in fact, a peace-loving nation.

‘huuman’

Me and my parents were talking last night about what it is to be human. Two factors had sparked this debate: the murder of ken biggley and the decision of the charlotte wyatt case. Firstly, we were debating over whether charlotte was human – I think she most certainly is, reguardless of what she can and cannot do. from a very reductionist standpoint, she cannot do what most other humans do: talk, think, love. This was the crux of my dads argument last night, and I think its bollox. She is loved by her parents, she loooks like a human. she should be valued as any other human being and given the chance to live. After all, doctors once said similr things of me.

Later in the evening, we got to talking about the bigley murder. This discusts me, as it will most people, but at one stage I forgot myself and dscribed his captors s not human. dad pulled me over, saying “as soon as we define such people as not human, we forget that they have motives; as soon as we define them as animals, they become easier to kill, and we become as bad as them.” dad wad, of course, right, but it struck me as odd that he could define a disabled baby as not being fully human, and then defend the main tennet of libealism so eloquenttly. Not sure I understand.

it fits

I just wanna note that my newest garment fits. Feel slightly wary of saying this, but its my blog and I’ll say what I wish. my new leotard fits perfectly,and I especially like its short sleeves. why I like dressing so much I don’t know, I just do. thinking of wearing something feminine on halowe’en.

trip into alsager

On Wednesday s, as it stands right now I don’t have any lessons – I have no lessons in the morning, and all universities and colleges leave Wednesday afternoons free. Because it’s the beginning of term, I don’t have much work, and Esther proposed it might be nice to use the time to go explore Alsager. Very kindly, she and her mother came to help me explore the city. Mrs. Everett wanted to visit the bake house in the village, and I wanted to see if there are any decent book stores there.

Perhaps surprisingly for a university town, we found only one book store, but this was well stocked. Having got my parents to order the books I need for uni, I went in to investigate the price of Michael Palin’s Himalaya book. This was £20, and given that I have limited money, and that my parents will hopefully be getting it for me for Christmas, I thought it best not to buy it.

Alsager struck me as a well-to-do, middle-class area, full of rather large houses. It is the epitomie of affluential suburbia, and the shops which line it’s high street reflect this: mostly estate agents, coffee shops and high quality clothes stores. Mrs Everett bought two dozen or so sausage rolls for her sons from chatwins, but mostly we just did some window shopping.

I must say that both mrs Everett and Esther are very kind indeed. It must not have been easy to come all the way from Crewe just to take me shopping, and although I offered to pay for the coffee, they refused point blank to accept my money. Mrs Everett offered to pay for Himalaya, which was naturally out of the question – I’d have felt so guilty. She’s too kind.

However – and my parents won’t like this – on our way home we passed a dance store, synonymous with middle-class areas. Let me explain that, as a replacement for intimacy with ‘the fairer sex’ I have taken to cross dressing, and one of my favourite garments of lust are leotards. like it or not – and part of me agrees with my parents and brothers that this is a disgusting pastime – my dressing is a part of my persona. It brings me much joy, and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to order a beautiful black leotard. It will cost 11 quid, and yes, Dad, I feel guilty, but I really need this part of my life. Please don’t be too angry.

After that, we strolled home, where Esther helped me get lunch, and we all ate together. As I said, I’m very grateful to Esther and mrs Everett. They were very helpful, and I need a way to repay them. Any suggestions?

am ia faccist?

I was up in Durham yesterday, visiting mark, my brother. He lives there with Kat, and I always like going up: I love travelling, and crossing the Pennines into the north-east is always beautiful. There is always something about car journeys which allows one to think.

We got there early, because dad was driving, and we took the Octavia. Mark lives in Ushaw Moor, a village just outside the city. It’s a pretty, quiet little place, but mot of all I love visiting Mark because I’m in awe of his brain: he’s doing a PHD in physics!

Massive brain or no, sometimes he gets stuff wrong. Over lunch, we began to discuss the case of Charlotte Wyatt, whom the NHS want to let die despite her parents wishes. Mark – and everyone else in the room – said that she should be allowed to die, but in my opinion this is murder. Life, I believe, should always be preserved, no matter what. My brother presented the ‘suffering’ argument, but given that A) suffering is relative and B) charlotte cannot give her opinion on the subject, this argument doesn’t wash. As I said, relatively speaking, I suffer, should I die? I also made the points that I was against abortion of disabled babies – which, effectively, this is an extension of – and that I too was resuscitated at birth. Should dr. Kay have given me mouth to mouth? I think so, and the same concept applies to charlotte.

Now mark thinks I’m fascist. I think mark should stick to physics.