Newcastle: Standstill

First of February, the day on which I bitterly refuse to send my ex the text message she expects. Serves her right, she shouldn’t be wandering around naked through my head to begin with. This would have been much easier if she were fat and ugly.


She’s a stripper. A lap dancer. I was told over dinner, when I curiously asked "Any dance in particular?" after it was mentioned she had gone out to dance. Way to turn a conversation awkward in less than a heartbeat. And here I couldn’t help but think that the "office outfit" she was in earlier suddenly had a whole different meaning to it.
Not that I saw it coming, but I suppose it makes sense. She is hauntingly beautiful. The first day the suit easily put me off but seeing her skip around in her leisure clothes is quite… distracting. So I keep to staring at my feet most of the time. Aww that’s cute. Let’s just be friends.

All this aside, I am really begin to think she hates me profoundly. The distant friendliness I was tossed has vanished altogether and since our first conversation, she hasn’t spoken a word to me. In fact, she leaves the room as I come in, not giving me as much as a glance. And no, I am not imagining this. It’s painfully obvious. And the strangest thing is, I can hear her giggle and joke with my host, making me wonder if there’s someone else in the house. But when he senses me near, she shuts down and buggers off, leaving me confused and examining my toes.

Not that I mind being hated, but I am really curious why. I’ve never been treated so coldly in my life, hell she even outmatches my stepmother who will at least give me a brisk "hello" in return. It’… disorienting. And it’s not like I really got a chance to say something wrong.
So what is it? She can’t be a lesbian man hater because she gets along fabulously with my host.
Maybe she just regards men as pigs from experience at her work, retarded as it may sound.
Maybe I remind her of someone? But even then, her reaction to it would be very much over the top.

I simply can’t figure it out. What did I do? Is it me personally? My age? My gender? Nationality? It can’t be my body odour (as a taveller it’s not always easy, mind you) because she was like this when she first opened the door for me and walked away. As I said, she can dislike me all she wants, but if it’s something personal I would like to know so I at least know where my flaws are.

Maybe I shouldn’t worry about it so much. She could just be a very reserved person. Or maybe I’m facing a mirror here, someone who will seem one thing while thinking the exact opposite. Someone cold to you out of sheer forceful habit. A thin layer of ice to break, the hope for being approached just underneath. Maybe I should just walk up to her and start talking.

Fat chance. Not in this life. To be perfectly honest, regardless of the underlying reason, bitchy behavior…? Makes you a bitch.
I think I’ll mention it matter-of-factly to my host at some point or other. The curiosity is killing me.


So I’m in Newcastle right now. I really like it here, but as it turns out, I may be getting more than I bargained for. I could have sworn I found a ferry connection to Norway from Edinburgh, but as I’m trying to find it, it turns out not to exist. Luckily there’s a connection from Newcastle, as well. Or wait, the line is fucking CANCELLED.

There is no connection from the UK to Norway, whatsoever. The closest is Denmark, but I really don’t feel like booking two seperate rides- detours by ferry cost you whole days.

I fucked myself quite nicely, didn’t I? I’m impressed. I’ll find my way out, hopefully in time to see Johnny Bravo, but it’s likely going to cost me a ton of money – something I have very little of. I have no more backup, and the bills are still rolling in, including rent and whatnot. Today I can have over €500, tomorrow I can be broke. Also (Spoiler alert!), this would most likely include taking one or more planes, who, besides the money, present a few problems of there own. Firstly, I hate flying with all my heart, and secondly, the weather channel couldn’t have given me worse news. The next couple days are going to be insane here. Snow, storms, wind, it’s going to be really tough. For most of Europe, as far as I can tell. I may just be utterly stuck in place. And if I’m not, I’m not exactly looking forward to getting on a plane in the midst of a fucking snow storm. Planes scare the shit out of me as is, already. I really can’t imagine how they could not.

But… it’s a price I have to pay, right? Plunging head first into something you don’t know the outcome of, is bound to bring surprises good and bad. Something to tell my grandchildren, this.

Let’s say it like it is. I started off on newyears with €1900 and a few payments on the way. One month later, I have €1700, but I’ve run out of pleasant surprises. Can I afford this mistake? Yes I can, but that’s not the point of this trip. Relying on money is cheating, the bottom line is to rely on myself. The only reason why I still have any money at all is exactly that. I seriously didn’t spend more than £10 in total in the past week. So having to fall back on cash really bugs me. I’m going to keep searching for a way around this but it’s looking bleak. The upside is that no one is here to watch me, so I can just say that I swam the ocean when I get home. I’m so clever.


I checked on the internet and there appears to be a capoeira group active here in Newcastle. The class is tomorrow evening, I’m going. With some luck I’ll get to vent some energy and make some friends.

You go, girl.


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