Last thing I'm going to post tonight, I promise.
At primary school there was this one boy, he was special. He bullied me actually but that never really bothered me a great deal. I struggled to run well so ended up falling over a lot trying to keep up with my classmates. This was an issue that contributed to the bullying or rather helped make me a target.
Lloyd Cole. He was a dark haired chap. We went to the same schools all the way through I believe. He was only really prominent to me in primary. He had an older brother who I remember as being quite a looker the last time I saw him. So I'm sure Lloyd will have grown up to be dashingly handsome too.
During primary school Lloyd had this blond mate called Shane. The three of us were almost friends because even though Lloyd picked on me we had a good laugh sometimes. At some point towards the end of primary school Shane moved away. There isn't a great deal to say about Lloyd.
He probably liked me and being a boy, was not very good at expressing this. I don't know. One time I recall walking through the village home in the evening (in regular clothes, not school uniform). Lloyd and Shane were following me on their bicycles. They were doing a infant version of cat calling. I distinctly remember at one point I stopped walking and turned to them. Lloyd said something about wanting me to feel his middle leg and they both laughed. I wanted them to leave me alone and I think shortly after that point they did. I knew what he was suggesting but did not understand the sexual connotations at that time.
I still think about Lloyd sometimes. I am hesitant to confess this to the internet at large, but here goes. I actually fantasize about him. In these fantasies we are both fully mature adults I hasten to add. Anything else would just be very weird and a big no. Going on the route him and his brother might have been headed he might actually have ended up a criminal, but I hope not.
Wednesday, June 13, 2018
Catherine Adams
Ah Catherine. What isn't there to say?
When dwelling on the memorable events of my primary school years I can't not mention dear Catherine. She was a pretty blonde girl and we were best friends.
I don't know what year we were in when this first thing happened, but it was definitely primary school sometime. We'd been on a trip (or we leaving to go on one) and were on a coach. Catherine and me were seated together when she suddenly leaned over and kissed me. I reacted, like anybody else would, and said loudly what are you doing? She shushed me and whispered that it was okay, nobody could see us. She might have kissed me again and I guess I liked it.
After that during playtime we would often go and hide in the thick hedges that lined the field on the playground so nobody could see us and just sit there kissing each other.
I wore glasses as a child and had lovely thick framed red ones (I liked them at the time). One day Catherine asked to try them one. Me being the innocent little thing that I was kindly let her. And they did look kind of good on her. She said she wanted to keep them. I told her my mum wouldn't be happy about that and I needed them back. Catherine said she'd given them back tomorrow. Of course when I went home that day my mum was rather unimpressed when I confessed to having given my glasses to my friend. She told me they cost a lot of money and I needed to get her to give them back. Luckily for me Catherine did return them.
One day Catherine came round my house to play and we went up to my room. Now out of all my older cousins only one is female (me and my sisters are the youngest of the lot). My aunt had kindly sent over a couple of black bin bags of clothes which Fiona had grown out of for us to have whatever we wanted out of. This day was shortly afterwards. Catherine inquired about the bags, opening one. So I told her and kindly offered that she could have anything from them if she wanted. But not these I'd said, indicating a lovely dark green velvet skirt and sweater which was draped over my chair because they were mine, I'd already picked those.
So immediately she set her sights on that outfit and said but she wanted it. I said she couldn't have it. What about anything else in the bag? Catherine said she would just take it anyway. I said I'd tell mum and dad. She then said she'd tell them I said she could have it. I loudly, horrified cried but I didn't.
So we went downstairs and things played out. Do you know what still hurts the most about this?
My parents believed that bitch over me, their own daughter. I insisted I'd never said she could have the outfit and they just told me I shouldn't have said she could have it in the first place. It wasn't fair to say something and then just change my mind about it. So that scum sucking liar walked out with my beautiful new second hand outfit. I bothered her about it for ages after that at school and eventually Catherine confessed that she had chucked it out because she didn't like it. I hollered at her then what did you take it for in the first place? She just shrugged.
My mum later said that because she was my friend they pretty much believed the sun shined out of her butt (I'm paraphrasing).
I never even got to wear that outfit once.
Oh but that's not all. The Catherine saga has one more chapter.
So we were playing round her house one day, the only time I ever went to hers. We were in her room playing Barbies and her step mum called her down. I wasn't going to go along but Catherine suggested that I should. We went down to the kitchen where a couple of glasses of squash were set out on the counter. I was thirsty and asked Catherine if one of them was for me but she wouldn't answer. I tried to get her to go and ask but she wouldn't do that either. I said how I didn't want to drink one if none of them were for me. Eventually she got fed up of me going on about it and shortly asked if I was going to have one or not. I elected not but she reasoned that if there wasn't one for me her step mum could always make another. So I drank one and we went back upstairs.
You can probably guess where this is going. Some time later step mum calls me down again. She asks if I had a juice. I said I did. She said what makes me think she'd made me one? I told her Catherine said it was okay to have one. So she calls her down too and of course, like the good friend she is, Catherine denies it. So step mum goes all guilt trip on me. Because of me Catherine's little brother will have to go thirsty blah blah blah. I turned to Catherine and exasperatedly said why didn't she just tell me? This is what I was trying to avoid. Step mum says I'm no longer welcome in their house. She won't have liars. I start to go back upstairs and she asks where I'm going. I say to get my stuff and step mum says Catherine will get it for me. Catherine begs her for five more minutes and she agrees. So we go back up to play for five more minutes.
Now Catherine has some cool Barbie kit that I'd never seen before such as a little bra and knickers and slightly different shaped high heel shoes. So as punishment for being a lying little bitch I tucked a few bits of her Barbie clothing into my bag when she wasn't looking. At that age stealing Barbie stuff is adequate punishment. As I was leaving Catherine said to me so I'll see you at school? Normal tone of voice as if nothing had happened. I replied I guess, in a rather dejected tone and left.
What I should have said is go suck a dick. I hope you rot in hell you little maggot.
As you can see I'm not bitter at all. We went to the same middle school as well, but ran in different social circles by then. In year 5 or 6 she left. Her dad was in the RAF and must have got reassigned because they moved back to her native Netherlands. On her last day Catherine and her girlfriends were crying and hugged each other goodbye. Due to how close we used to be I tried to hug her goodbye too, but each time she turned her back on me and ignored me.
She was an abusive manipulative little bitch and I hope I never see her again. Fuck you blondie and good riddance.
When dwelling on the memorable events of my primary school years I can't not mention dear Catherine. She was a pretty blonde girl and we were best friends.
I don't know what year we were in when this first thing happened, but it was definitely primary school sometime. We'd been on a trip (or we leaving to go on one) and were on a coach. Catherine and me were seated together when she suddenly leaned over and kissed me. I reacted, like anybody else would, and said loudly what are you doing? She shushed me and whispered that it was okay, nobody could see us. She might have kissed me again and I guess I liked it.
After that during playtime we would often go and hide in the thick hedges that lined the field on the playground so nobody could see us and just sit there kissing each other.
I wore glasses as a child and had lovely thick framed red ones (I liked them at the time). One day Catherine asked to try them one. Me being the innocent little thing that I was kindly let her. And they did look kind of good on her. She said she wanted to keep them. I told her my mum wouldn't be happy about that and I needed them back. Catherine said she'd given them back tomorrow. Of course when I went home that day my mum was rather unimpressed when I confessed to having given my glasses to my friend. She told me they cost a lot of money and I needed to get her to give them back. Luckily for me Catherine did return them.
One day Catherine came round my house to play and we went up to my room. Now out of all my older cousins only one is female (me and my sisters are the youngest of the lot). My aunt had kindly sent over a couple of black bin bags of clothes which Fiona had grown out of for us to have whatever we wanted out of. This day was shortly afterwards. Catherine inquired about the bags, opening one. So I told her and kindly offered that she could have anything from them if she wanted. But not these I'd said, indicating a lovely dark green velvet skirt and sweater which was draped over my chair because they were mine, I'd already picked those.
So immediately she set her sights on that outfit and said but she wanted it. I said she couldn't have it. What about anything else in the bag? Catherine said she would just take it anyway. I said I'd tell mum and dad. She then said she'd tell them I said she could have it. I loudly, horrified cried but I didn't.
So we went downstairs and things played out. Do you know what still hurts the most about this?
My parents believed that bitch over me, their own daughter. I insisted I'd never said she could have the outfit and they just told me I shouldn't have said she could have it in the first place. It wasn't fair to say something and then just change my mind about it. So that scum sucking liar walked out with my beautiful new second hand outfit. I bothered her about it for ages after that at school and eventually Catherine confessed that she had chucked it out because she didn't like it. I hollered at her then what did you take it for in the first place? She just shrugged.
My mum later said that because she was my friend they pretty much believed the sun shined out of her butt (I'm paraphrasing).
I never even got to wear that outfit once.
Oh but that's not all. The Catherine saga has one more chapter.
So we were playing round her house one day, the only time I ever went to hers. We were in her room playing Barbies and her step mum called her down. I wasn't going to go along but Catherine suggested that I should. We went down to the kitchen where a couple of glasses of squash were set out on the counter. I was thirsty and asked Catherine if one of them was for me but she wouldn't answer. I tried to get her to go and ask but she wouldn't do that either. I said how I didn't want to drink one if none of them were for me. Eventually she got fed up of me going on about it and shortly asked if I was going to have one or not. I elected not but she reasoned that if there wasn't one for me her step mum could always make another. So I drank one and we went back upstairs.
You can probably guess where this is going. Some time later step mum calls me down again. She asks if I had a juice. I said I did. She said what makes me think she'd made me one? I told her Catherine said it was okay to have one. So she calls her down too and of course, like the good friend she is, Catherine denies it. So step mum goes all guilt trip on me. Because of me Catherine's little brother will have to go thirsty blah blah blah. I turned to Catherine and exasperatedly said why didn't she just tell me? This is what I was trying to avoid. Step mum says I'm no longer welcome in their house. She won't have liars. I start to go back upstairs and she asks where I'm going. I say to get my stuff and step mum says Catherine will get it for me. Catherine begs her for five more minutes and she agrees. So we go back up to play for five more minutes.
Now Catherine has some cool Barbie kit that I'd never seen before such as a little bra and knickers and slightly different shaped high heel shoes. So as punishment for being a lying little bitch I tucked a few bits of her Barbie clothing into my bag when she wasn't looking. At that age stealing Barbie stuff is adequate punishment. As I was leaving Catherine said to me so I'll see you at school? Normal tone of voice as if nothing had happened. I replied I guess, in a rather dejected tone and left.
What I should have said is go suck a dick. I hope you rot in hell you little maggot.
As you can see I'm not bitter at all. We went to the same middle school as well, but ran in different social circles by then. In year 5 or 6 she left. Her dad was in the RAF and must have got reassigned because they moved back to her native Netherlands. On her last day Catherine and her girlfriends were crying and hugged each other goodbye. Due to how close we used to be I tried to hug her goodbye too, but each time she turned her back on me and ignored me.
She was an abusive manipulative little bitch and I hope I never see her again. Fuck you blondie and good riddance.
Primary School Drama
There is this incident from way back when I was in primary school that still sticks in my mind. I can't sleep and somehow my mind has drifted back to this day.
So I was in second year at the time. A small group of us had been given this art task to do outside the classroom. There was this area in the hallway between the year 2 and 3 classrooms that had tables and chairs set up in it, with equipment drawers and that sort of thing nearby. We were set up at some of these tables and left unsupervised to get the work done. The teacher went back into the classroom. As soon as she left everyone got up and left the table, heading round the corner to the library area and only me and this other girl Shelly were left.
This infuriated me. I complained to Shelly that it was unfair for us to do all the work and they get to take some of the credit. Besides it was too much, we could not get the task done without more help. I wasn't going to let this happen on my watch. I said to her let's go and get them back. Shelly replied with something along the lines of forget about them. Let's just concentrate on this.
I said no, I'm going to make them come back and marched round the corner. I found the slackers seated amongst the library stacks on cushions. I told them they couldn't leave all the work to us, it wasn't fair. Miss had given the task to all of us, not just me and Shelly. They didn't care and handed me a cushion, tried to get me to sit down with them. About that point I spotted the headteacher heading this way and said as much.
At this the group leapt to their feet, throwing the cushions down and ran back to the tables. I yelled at them about throwing the cushions because this was not allowed, as I carefully put mine back on the floor before following them.
In my absence Mrs Pepper had come out to check on us, only to find Shelly sat alone working. So we were ushered back into class and I got told off along with the others.
I was absolutely incensed at this. I stood up at my desk and stubbornly refused to comply with the punishment she was dishing out, shouting at her how unfair it was. I told her I was only trying to get them to come back to the table and called Shelly out for not backing me up on that. Mrs Pepper said it was wrong of me to be mad at her when she was the only one doing any work. I continued to shout about the injustice of it all and may even have called the teacher a bitch or said I hated her (I can't remember for sure). I think she was trying to get me to stand in the corner and may have relegated me to the hallway in the end. I don't recall how it ended.
I was always the shy quiet one, so it took a hell of a lot for me to stand up in class and rave so loudly about something, with everyone looking at me. Clearly this still stings. For reference I'm now in my thirties.
So I was in second year at the time. A small group of us had been given this art task to do outside the classroom. There was this area in the hallway between the year 2 and 3 classrooms that had tables and chairs set up in it, with equipment drawers and that sort of thing nearby. We were set up at some of these tables and left unsupervised to get the work done. The teacher went back into the classroom. As soon as she left everyone got up and left the table, heading round the corner to the library area and only me and this other girl Shelly were left.
This infuriated me. I complained to Shelly that it was unfair for us to do all the work and they get to take some of the credit. Besides it was too much, we could not get the task done without more help. I wasn't going to let this happen on my watch. I said to her let's go and get them back. Shelly replied with something along the lines of forget about them. Let's just concentrate on this.
I said no, I'm going to make them come back and marched round the corner. I found the slackers seated amongst the library stacks on cushions. I told them they couldn't leave all the work to us, it wasn't fair. Miss had given the task to all of us, not just me and Shelly. They didn't care and handed me a cushion, tried to get me to sit down with them. About that point I spotted the headteacher heading this way and said as much.
At this the group leapt to their feet, throwing the cushions down and ran back to the tables. I yelled at them about throwing the cushions because this was not allowed, as I carefully put mine back on the floor before following them.
In my absence Mrs Pepper had come out to check on us, only to find Shelly sat alone working. So we were ushered back into class and I got told off along with the others.
I was absolutely incensed at this. I stood up at my desk and stubbornly refused to comply with the punishment she was dishing out, shouting at her how unfair it was. I told her I was only trying to get them to come back to the table and called Shelly out for not backing me up on that. Mrs Pepper said it was wrong of me to be mad at her when she was the only one doing any work. I continued to shout about the injustice of it all and may even have called the teacher a bitch or said I hated her (I can't remember for sure). I think she was trying to get me to stand in the corner and may have relegated me to the hallway in the end. I don't recall how it ended.
I was always the shy quiet one, so it took a hell of a lot for me to stand up in class and rave so loudly about something, with everyone looking at me. Clearly this still stings. For reference I'm now in my thirties.
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