for the first day in a long time i am just happy. i am okay and alive and that's a good thing.
the 16 year old playing sax on a cold street corner
the too hot curry
the stupidly decadent birthday present for my brother
the smell of my scarf
the yippy colleagues
the toy seaturtle that lives on my desk
it's all good.
and these people, the amazing, ridiculous and a little bit crazy nerds make me really very happy to be alive- and I hope I someday do something that makes me feel like they do about their collider:
http://www.popsci.com/science/gallery/2009-12/gallery-years-most-amazing-scientific-images
(except of course that girl in the corner. she should be fired so gross lethargy and obivious disinterest. because you can fire someone for something like that in my world. which is why i am not empress of everything (contrary to mr gaiman's bestowing of the self same title eariler this year)
18 December 2009
16 December 2009
tea
So I am terribly crap at this, but my year in blogs is as sporatic as my blogging this year, so I guess that's some consistency.
But, today is about best tea.
And this, my friends, has been the year of tea. Perhaps after 5 years (can you believe it's been 5 years?) in the UK the national berveage has finally permeated my bones. Don't know, but a cuppa really is one of life's little pleasures.
Anyway, tea has been the drink of choice for 2009. I only survived the winter's hostility last year through the copious and passionate nursing of peppermint tea (which helps with the plumbing as much as the grannies all say).
The stress of a cold wet spring was lessened by the discovery of camemille and vanilla tea with honey in. So deliciously simple yet decadent in it's own way. No surprises it's called 'moment of calm' on the box.
The summer discovery of citrus rooibos has been lovely. If you haven't had the south african tea in it's own right you should, but this schmancy version with a hint of lemon and orange is now the perfect companion, hot or cold, to my new life sans caffine.
But the cake-taker is out and out the opening of eteaket (see what they did there?). It's a haven of vintage cake stands and exotic aromas. The blossoming teas (and the one with bits of chocolate in) are as cool as they sound. And the cupcakes I am told are divine.
But, today is about best tea.
And this, my friends, has been the year of tea. Perhaps after 5 years (can you believe it's been 5 years?) in the UK the national berveage has finally permeated my bones. Don't know, but a cuppa really is one of life's little pleasures.
Anyway, tea has been the drink of choice for 2009. I only survived the winter's hostility last year through the copious and passionate nursing of peppermint tea (which helps with the plumbing as much as the grannies all say).
The stress of a cold wet spring was lessened by the discovery of camemille and vanilla tea with honey in. So deliciously simple yet decadent in it's own way. No surprises it's called 'moment of calm' on the box.
The summer discovery of citrus rooibos has been lovely. If you haven't had the south african tea in it's own right you should, but this schmancy version with a hint of lemon and orange is now the perfect companion, hot or cold, to my new life sans caffine.
But the cake-taker is out and out the opening of eteaket (see what they did there?). It's a haven of vintage cake stands and exotic aromas. The blossoming teas (and the one with bits of chocolate in) are as cool as they sound. And the cupcakes I am told are divine.
05 December 2009
In the Best of Blog 2009, I am meant to reflect on the book that mattered most.
I have read something like 300 books this year.
It's been a good year for reading, especially because I read more than one grown up book. Some even by dead people, which is unheard of in my line of work.
But for the best, I'm at a loss. some brilliant picture books (Ernest is particularly adorable), I thoroughly enjoyed Cranford and the second Patrick Ness was compelling.
The only book that still haunts me is Tender Morsels. It's fucking brilliant and absolutely affecting. It is adolescence, womanhood and poetry at their most raw and brutal. Not for many, and you have to stomach the first 100 pages, but it is insanely beautiful. but I hesitate to recommend it, it just might kill you.
I have read something like 300 books this year.
It's been a good year for reading, especially because I read more than one grown up book. Some even by dead people, which is unheard of in my line of work.
But for the best, I'm at a loss. some brilliant picture books (Ernest is particularly adorable), I thoroughly enjoyed Cranford and the second Patrick Ness was compelling.
The only book that still haunts me is Tender Morsels. It's fucking brilliant and absolutely affecting. It is adolescence, womanhood and poetry at their most raw and brutal. Not for many, and you have to stomach the first 100 pages, but it is insanely beautiful. but I hesitate to recommend it, it just might kill you.
02 December 2009
Best of the 2009 Blog Challenge
So I have been pretty shit lately. Not really doing anything, including blogging - and what better way to get myself out of this funk than a retrospective look at the noughties and a blog campaign ?
In the meantime, today's theme : My best restaurant moment.
My mind's child is begging me to write this like a third grade book report. I'll resist the urge as much as possible, but I am only human. Ignore the conspicuous, vaguely inappropriate use of big words.
My best restaurant moment of 09 has to be in Pitigliano. Not because i can casually brag about our glorious trip to Italy in July (fun as it would be), but because despite the seeming idyllic setting, I can still muck things up royally. What can I say, it's a gift. My only solace is the hope I can get a staggering billion figure book deal out of the memoirs after, as millions of people will obviouslywant to laugh (with me) at my shame.
Anyway, after a week of blissful fun and mad sex, we decided to eat out in a proper nice restaurant - and do it italian style, with all 4 courses and everything. we booked a table (the town was small enough there weren't enough restaurants around to guarantee space anywhere). I even wore my beach cover up like it was a real dress and put on make up. And while my thick sticky hair still smelt of salt water, I like to think it was still shiny in the candle light.
But then, I also liked to think my italian was good enough to get us through (Liam spoke not a word and of this town's 300 residents, we never found anyone who spoke a jot of english. Charming, but hella hard work on my one mediocre term of italian in college. Good thing we only ever needed food, directions and a bathroom. Lord knows what would have happened if we needing to express feelings or something.
Anyway, I tried to translate the menu for my man and when stuggling with scallopes I took a stab in the dark for scallops, seafood at the outside. I was sure it would be fine. probably.
Until of course it came. A escallope of pork in gravy. A big wadge of pig meat plonked in front of my vegetarian boyfriend. on our big romantic date in rural italy - our perfect, someday we'll tell our kids about it moment, and I manage to practically poison the poor thing.
Good sport that he is, he ate it (and liked it - the half he could manage. I think he was untrained in the will power it takes to prevail over pork's soporific tendencies). Probably a good thing too, because I wouldn't have had a fucking clue about saying 'he can't eat this, take it back and bring me something made of tofu' in italian.
but still. the wine was brilliant, the nettle ravioli was awesomely weird, and nothing beats a damn sexy gentleman slurping for his life in a tuscan sunset.
In the meantime, today's theme : My best restaurant moment.
My mind's child is begging me to write this like a third grade book report. I'll resist the urge as much as possible, but I am only human. Ignore the conspicuous, vaguely inappropriate use of big words.
My best restaurant moment of 09 has to be in Pitigliano. Not because i can casually brag about our glorious trip to Italy in July (fun as it would be), but because despite the seeming idyllic setting, I can still muck things up royally. What can I say, it's a gift. My only solace is the hope I can get a staggering billion figure book deal out of the memoirs after, as millions of people will obviouslywant to laugh (with me) at my shame.
Anyway, after a week of blissful fun and mad sex, we decided to eat out in a proper nice restaurant - and do it italian style, with all 4 courses and everything. we booked a table (the town was small enough there weren't enough restaurants around to guarantee space anywhere). I even wore my beach cover up like it was a real dress and put on make up. And while my thick sticky hair still smelt of salt water, I like to think it was still shiny in the candle light.
But then, I also liked to think my italian was good enough to get us through (Liam spoke not a word and of this town's 300 residents, we never found anyone who spoke a jot of english. Charming, but hella hard work on my one mediocre term of italian in college. Good thing we only ever needed food, directions and a bathroom. Lord knows what would have happened if we needing to express feelings or something.
Anyway, I tried to translate the menu for my man and when stuggling with scallopes I took a stab in the dark for scallops, seafood at the outside. I was sure it would be fine. probably.
Until of course it came. A escallope of pork in gravy. A big wadge of pig meat plonked in front of my vegetarian boyfriend. on our big romantic date in rural italy - our perfect, someday we'll tell our kids about it moment, and I manage to practically poison the poor thing.
Good sport that he is, he ate it (and liked it - the half he could manage. I think he was untrained in the will power it takes to prevail over pork's soporific tendencies). Probably a good thing too, because I wouldn't have had a fucking clue about saying 'he can't eat this, take it back and bring me something made of tofu' in italian.
but still. the wine was brilliant, the nettle ravioli was awesomely weird, and nothing beats a damn sexy gentleman slurping for his life in a tuscan sunset.
loss
i just heard a kid I went to high school died this fall. i say kid. he was in my class. he was a man now. a dentist actually. and by the sound of it, a good upstanding one.
not that I knew him, other than a friend of a friend. the sort of gregarious sportsman and upstart that intimidated me then and reminds me of my brother now. but still. it's sad, even from a distance. he always seemed like a nice guy.
i don't know what to say, but it makes me sad.
sometimes i think deaths accumulate. that sorrow collects in little crevasses in my soul. like i never stop grieving someone, it just fades away until someone else joins the ranks and all the previous sorrows well up and compound. like hard bits of scar tissue that grow over each other until I'll just be one callous lump of all the loss and regret.
it probably won't happen. but it might.
but this isn't about me. it's about joe. and i am sorry for him and his family. I hope the world of lives he touched were better for it and that he is remembered and loved. because sometimes that's all you can hope for.
not that I knew him, other than a friend of a friend. the sort of gregarious sportsman and upstart that intimidated me then and reminds me of my brother now. but still. it's sad, even from a distance. he always seemed like a nice guy.
i don't know what to say, but it makes me sad.
sometimes i think deaths accumulate. that sorrow collects in little crevasses in my soul. like i never stop grieving someone, it just fades away until someone else joins the ranks and all the previous sorrows well up and compound. like hard bits of scar tissue that grow over each other until I'll just be one callous lump of all the loss and regret.
it probably won't happen. but it might.
but this isn't about me. it's about joe. and i am sorry for him and his family. I hope the world of lives he touched were better for it and that he is remembered and loved. because sometimes that's all you can hope for.
07 November 2009
a tempered passion
while I have of late been dwelling on the things I hate about the UK, there are several things I truly adore. It makes me sad to know someday, and someday soon, I'll leave these barren gray shores and never see their like again.
Here, in no particular order are some of my recent love affairs:
sanctioned paganism
The Celtic force is still strong in this one, and the biennial rituals which take over vast swathes of the city prove it (even if the tacky tourist jewelery needs to be endured). Halloween is Sammahien, an epic battle between the winter king and the summer king (or Green King as you may have seen him in impish incarnations).
In the high street square this is reenacted with college hos body painted red and dancing, hippies juggling and oh yes, a battle with giant flaming swords. I kid you not. It completely rocks in its surreal absurdity, high school musical-esque production values and all around kick ass nature. It not as good as the summer's Beltane orgy which puts even Mists of Avalon to shame, but it's still one hell of a way to ring in All Saints Day (which by the way is the whole point of Halloween).
incessant drinking
while a plus and a minus (mostly a minus considering the amount of vomit in the street on a sunday morning), there is nothing like midafternoon pints (on a working day even!) to clear the air and remind you that there is more to life than to do lists. plus, a good local lager is unbeatably tasty.
weird tv
not a fan of strictly, dancing on ice or the on going battle between Kylie's d-list sister and Simon on XFactor, I am pleasantly surprised to find Canadian sitcoms in syndication on 4od. Who knew Canada made tv? Who knew my hormonal self would like it's transparent, feel good simplicity?
food
We all know I'm a little bit obsessed with food. And as the winter chill settles in, a country which thinks anything stewed for long enough, mixed with mashed potatoes and/or covered in gravy constituted a meal is a place I could get used to.
Stovies for lunch today meant a big mug (like as big as my head) which had roasted carrots and veg plus haggis (which is like oats and nuts and herbs and stuff, kind of like crumbly spicy sausage but better) plus mashed potatoes mixed together then baked until piping hot.
I probably should mention experimental film, the mod movement returning to London, my current favourite bands and whatever - but really, food, drink, entertainment and carpe diems sum it up just fine.
i love it here. and if the weather, government, insurance, medical care, urban development,racism and social regeneration parts didn't suck I'd even think about staying.
Here, in no particular order are some of my recent love affairs:
sanctioned paganism
The Celtic force is still strong in this one, and the biennial rituals which take over vast swathes of the city prove it (even if the tacky tourist jewelery needs to be endured). Halloween is Sammahien, an epic battle between the winter king and the summer king (or Green King as you may have seen him in impish incarnations).
In the high street square this is reenacted with college hos body painted red and dancing, hippies juggling and oh yes, a battle with giant flaming swords. I kid you not. It completely rocks in its surreal absurdity, high school musical-esque production values and all around kick ass nature. It not as good as the summer's Beltane orgy which puts even Mists of Avalon to shame, but it's still one hell of a way to ring in All Saints Day (which by the way is the whole point of Halloween).
incessant drinking
while a plus and a minus (mostly a minus considering the amount of vomit in the street on a sunday morning), there is nothing like midafternoon pints (on a working day even!) to clear the air and remind you that there is more to life than to do lists. plus, a good local lager is unbeatably tasty.
weird tv
not a fan of strictly, dancing on ice or the on going battle between Kylie's d-list sister and Simon on XFactor, I am pleasantly surprised to find Canadian sitcoms in syndication on 4od. Who knew Canada made tv? Who knew my hormonal self would like it's transparent, feel good simplicity?
food
We all know I'm a little bit obsessed with food. And as the winter chill settles in, a country which thinks anything stewed for long enough, mixed with mashed potatoes and/or covered in gravy constituted a meal is a place I could get used to.
Stovies for lunch today meant a big mug (like as big as my head) which had roasted carrots and veg plus haggis (which is like oats and nuts and herbs and stuff, kind of like crumbly spicy sausage but better) plus mashed potatoes mixed together then baked until piping hot.
I probably should mention experimental film, the mod movement returning to London, my current favourite bands and whatever - but really, food, drink, entertainment and carpe diems sum it up just fine.
i love it here. and if the weather, government, insurance, medical care, urban development,racism and social regeneration parts didn't suck I'd even think about staying.
21 October 2009
before
in one of those unexpected bouts of nostalgia (I am secretly suspicious these exponentially increase with age and slowly morph into delirium undetected), I decided to read my posts for every October to date. Who was I a year ago? two? three? four?
Suffice to say I was reminded of things I was happy to discover, and some I'd rather forget.
I was mostly shocked at how I have been saying the same things for years. I am more predictable than I thought.
But the kicker is how much more interesting I was before. I don't just mean the wild nights and ridiculous episodes of clumsiness and decrepitude - but just more interesting. I was even funny. Albeit trite and sarcastic, but somewhere along the way I've lost my vocabulary for this kind of thing. It's a bit tragic.
Suffice to say I was reminded of things I was happy to discover, and some I'd rather forget.
I was mostly shocked at how I have been saying the same things for years. I am more predictable than I thought.
But the kicker is how much more interesting I was before. I don't just mean the wild nights and ridiculous episodes of clumsiness and decrepitude - but just more interesting. I was even funny. Albeit trite and sarcastic, but somewhere along the way I've lost my vocabulary for this kind of thing. It's a bit tragic.
20 October 2009
disillusioned
This used to be so glamorous.
The jetsetting world, the flat in London, the first class train rides, the parties, the booze, the networking and endless bouts of meetings (which were really just professional seduction with pastries).
I am not ashamed to admit I love being wanted. Being spoiled, catered for, listened to and entertained.
And I used to love that my job puts me in a position lots of other people want to make me feel this way. (on top of the whole valuable, inspiring, life affirming things it's really about).
But this time around it's just not enough.
4 days in London is a slog - especially when it's only the first of three trips like this before a month has passed.
Before, I'd book back to back meetings, shopping/posh gallery over lunch and spend every evening out. Usually my four evenings in the big city were taken up with the following:
see a show
go to a party
go to a lecture/talk/event
work more
cavort with old friends and gossip.
This trip I have/will:
go to bed early after a failed dinner attempt
watch the bridges of madison county on tv (it's terrible, but I still cried)
work.
I am desperate for my own bed and a good long spoon.
Half of me hopes I wake from this unforseen funk and the other half is completely ready to walk away from the whole thing. and there is some secret part of me that is wondering if perhaps this is what grownups meant by 'settling down'.
The jetsetting world, the flat in London, the first class train rides, the parties, the booze, the networking and endless bouts of meetings (which were really just professional seduction with pastries).
I am not ashamed to admit I love being wanted. Being spoiled, catered for, listened to and entertained.
And I used to love that my job puts me in a position lots of other people want to make me feel this way. (on top of the whole valuable, inspiring, life affirming things it's really about).
But this time around it's just not enough.
4 days in London is a slog - especially when it's only the first of three trips like this before a month has passed.
Before, I'd book back to back meetings, shopping/posh gallery over lunch and spend every evening out. Usually my four evenings in the big city were taken up with the following:
see a show
go to a party
go to a lecture/talk/event
work more
cavort with old friends and gossip.
This trip I have/will:
go to bed early after a failed dinner attempt
watch the bridges of madison county on tv (it's terrible, but I still cried)
work.
I am desperate for my own bed and a good long spoon.
Half of me hopes I wake from this unforseen funk and the other half is completely ready to walk away from the whole thing. and there is some secret part of me that is wondering if perhaps this is what grownups meant by 'settling down'.
10 October 2009
The golden rule being: avoid pseudo meat.
It may have taken me a while to get used to vegetarian cooking, but with my man only just dabbling in poultry for the first time in over a decade, I figured I better suck it up and find something to live off of. Let's face it, I will love him even if he never eats a steak in his life, so I better find something nice we can both have on special occasions.
And after a few years, I can honestly say the non-meat dinners are not lacking in anything. In fact, they are some of my favourite foods. I would give you a catalogue of all my recent cooking triumphs, but that's just gloating, so I'll limit it to last night's inspired menu:
Falafel Burgers
Potato Wedges
Lentil side
Now, this may sound like health-nut tofu and seeds world, but rest assured, it is the perfect lazy, greasy, salty Friday-night-with-beer dinner ever.
1, make homemade potato wedges so you can put as much salt and cajun spice on them as you like. I put on loads, then dip them in honey instead of ketchup to balance it out. Or on lazier days, buy the frozen ones ready made.
2, Lentils are brilliant. This dish is:
A cup or two of rinsed green lentils
A tin of chopped tomatoes
A large helping of garlic, oregano and italian herbs
Cover with water, simmer for half an hour or so - until the lentils are soft and delicious. It's sort of similar to how grannies have baked beans at bbqs, except these taste brilliant and are less slimy.
3, Falafel Burgers:
Falafel (I can almost never be bothered to make these from scratch, but it doesn't matter) grilled up then smashed into miniburgers (rather than the hush puppy balls they usually come in)
Halloumi (the only cheese you can bbq), god love Cyprus. It's salty and known around our house as 'the squeaky cheese'. pan fry in strips for maximum crispy outside, gooey inside.
top these with homous & pesto inside hard core seed roles (the best have multi-seed mix baked in, not just on top)
It is truly a feast, and goes brilliantly with my new favourite beer : Innis & Gunn. A cinnamony local brew. Yum. If beer were a dessert, this would be it.
Next time on Cooking for A Veggie and Loving It: Chick Pea & Almond Tagine!
And after a few years, I can honestly say the non-meat dinners are not lacking in anything. In fact, they are some of my favourite foods. I would give you a catalogue of all my recent cooking triumphs, but that's just gloating, so I'll limit it to last night's inspired menu:
Falafel Burgers
Potato Wedges
Lentil side
Now, this may sound like health-nut tofu and seeds world, but rest assured, it is the perfect lazy, greasy, salty Friday-night-with-beer dinner ever.
1, make homemade potato wedges so you can put as much salt and cajun spice on them as you like. I put on loads, then dip them in honey instead of ketchup to balance it out. Or on lazier days, buy the frozen ones ready made.
2, Lentils are brilliant. This dish is:
A cup or two of rinsed green lentils
A tin of chopped tomatoes
A large helping of garlic, oregano and italian herbs
Cover with water, simmer for half an hour or so - until the lentils are soft and delicious. It's sort of similar to how grannies have baked beans at bbqs, except these taste brilliant and are less slimy.
3, Falafel Burgers:
Falafel (I can almost never be bothered to make these from scratch, but it doesn't matter) grilled up then smashed into miniburgers (rather than the hush puppy balls they usually come in)
Halloumi (the only cheese you can bbq), god love Cyprus. It's salty and known around our house as 'the squeaky cheese'. pan fry in strips for maximum crispy outside, gooey inside.
top these with homous & pesto inside hard core seed roles (the best have multi-seed mix baked in, not just on top)
It is truly a feast, and goes brilliantly with my new favourite beer : Innis & Gunn. A cinnamony local brew. Yum. If beer were a dessert, this would be it.
Next time on Cooking for A Veggie and Loving It: Chick Pea & Almond Tagine!
09 October 2009
22 September 2009
Let's start with the fact I am on holiday.
A whole blissful week for relaxing, vegging, and putting my life back in order.
Oh wait, except everything and it's minutiae is suddenly hugely urgent, I can't stop thinking about work and Liam and I are in a fight. Add to this the ridiculous complications of getting a house for my family's christmas visit, the stress ball of stomach acid rising as everyday of this week gets taken up with stupid chores (leave it to me to be stressed about not having enough time to relax) and my now chronic back pain.
Oh yeah, and it's our anniversary.
Yay.
A whole blissful week for relaxing, vegging, and putting my life back in order.
Oh wait, except everything and it's minutiae is suddenly hugely urgent, I can't stop thinking about work and Liam and I are in a fight. Add to this the ridiculous complications of getting a house for my family's christmas visit, the stress ball of stomach acid rising as everyday of this week gets taken up with stupid chores (leave it to me to be stressed about not having enough time to relax) and my now chronic back pain.
Oh yeah, and it's our anniversary.
Yay.
16 September 2009
afters
I visited my own blog today and was shocked to see how long it's been.
I suppose because life is big and busy and I am still a bit broken from it all.
In sum, my parents came during the busiest, most stressful period of my year. It was really nice to see them but also highly charged and I was more than highly strung. But they looked after me and were nice to my boy (and even took his visiting siblings out to dinner! may the family mingling begin!).
but it was also a bit sad and weird because i feel like a hardly saw them and selfishly i wish they'd come back now i have some time to play.
plus, let's not forget the 200,000 people, 8 venues, 300 authors, 1 peter rabbit and 145 glue sticks I had to look after over those 17 days.
It was big. bigger even than usual. and almost all of my new, exciting, heart breaking loveliness panned out. it rocked.
and then i spent 2 weeks trying to reclaim my life. Mostly reconnecting with my saintly, adoring, tolerant bean. It's weird how easy it is to get into a pattern of coexisting when there is so much pulling you in every direction. It takes a lot of effort to stop the world, but we found each other again - and if I'm honest, we're getting better at it every time. god love him. it's been so nice to feel connected every minute of every day. it's like all my pieces got put back together. it's grounding and liberating and brilliantly perfect.
plus also that meant daytrips to castles, a midnight bbq for two under the stars and all manner of other things I wish we'd been doing all summer but are making up for lost time with.
now, after the day of closure (our final book end staff debrief), I just have one niggling bee in my bonnet.
a night out that is all about letting my hair down went a bit awry.
mostly it was just drinking 5 pints with no dinner which means i am still hungover and it's almost dinner time (the hangovers are getting exponentially worse with age). it positively blows and is so ridiculous.
but there is a little piece of me that crossed a line. an arbitrary, internal sort of line like knowing you took more than your fair share of the m&ms.
while there is nothing actually wrong with enjoying a night out with friends, somewhere an internal alarm clock is dissatisfied. some little piece of me is frowning in disapproval. i am such an old fashioned prude.
Not that anything happened. Not that anything would. Not in a million years would I ever be anything other than honest. and my committment doesn't come by halves.
but the giddy happy 'you are all so wonderful' gushing of happy endings mixed with relief just went a hair too far. in hindsight and the clear (if nauseous) light of day the boozy camaraderie felt a bit flirty. and i am not comfortable with flirting. whether a lovely young boy means it or not, whether it's playful friendly banter of colleagues at the pub, I don't want to even engage with that sort of chat. It just doesn't feel right, and I am not that sort of gal. and I know I am making mountains out of molehills, but I guess this is one molehill I have a lot of stake in. and for the first time, I feel simultaneously ashamed and proud.
i maybe didn't handle it the way I wish I had, but at the same time there is something so reassuring about knowing my lines, knowing my rules and being full of conviction. i am so rarely sure about anything, but if I ever was it's now.
so there you go. possibly the worst love letter sentiment of all time, but it feels like I passed some test I didn't know about. I choose him. Over everyone, anyone, any minute, everyday. And no one, not even cute guys who would have turned my head in days gone by, are more important, meaningful and downright perfect than that.
it's one hell of a thing to be so smitten.
I suppose because life is big and busy and I am still a bit broken from it all.
In sum, my parents came during the busiest, most stressful period of my year. It was really nice to see them but also highly charged and I was more than highly strung. But they looked after me and were nice to my boy (and even took his visiting siblings out to dinner! may the family mingling begin!).
but it was also a bit sad and weird because i feel like a hardly saw them and selfishly i wish they'd come back now i have some time to play.
plus, let's not forget the 200,000 people, 8 venues, 300 authors, 1 peter rabbit and 145 glue sticks I had to look after over those 17 days.
It was big. bigger even than usual. and almost all of my new, exciting, heart breaking loveliness panned out. it rocked.
and then i spent 2 weeks trying to reclaim my life. Mostly reconnecting with my saintly, adoring, tolerant bean. It's weird how easy it is to get into a pattern of coexisting when there is so much pulling you in every direction. It takes a lot of effort to stop the world, but we found each other again - and if I'm honest, we're getting better at it every time. god love him. it's been so nice to feel connected every minute of every day. it's like all my pieces got put back together. it's grounding and liberating and brilliantly perfect.
plus also that meant daytrips to castles, a midnight bbq for two under the stars and all manner of other things I wish we'd been doing all summer but are making up for lost time with.
now, after the day of closure (our final book end staff debrief), I just have one niggling bee in my bonnet.
a night out that is all about letting my hair down went a bit awry.
mostly it was just drinking 5 pints with no dinner which means i am still hungover and it's almost dinner time (the hangovers are getting exponentially worse with age). it positively blows and is so ridiculous.
but there is a little piece of me that crossed a line. an arbitrary, internal sort of line like knowing you took more than your fair share of the m&ms.
while there is nothing actually wrong with enjoying a night out with friends, somewhere an internal alarm clock is dissatisfied. some little piece of me is frowning in disapproval. i am such an old fashioned prude.
Not that anything happened. Not that anything would. Not in a million years would I ever be anything other than honest. and my committment doesn't come by halves.
but the giddy happy 'you are all so wonderful' gushing of happy endings mixed with relief just went a hair too far. in hindsight and the clear (if nauseous) light of day the boozy camaraderie felt a bit flirty. and i am not comfortable with flirting. whether a lovely young boy means it or not, whether it's playful friendly banter of colleagues at the pub, I don't want to even engage with that sort of chat. It just doesn't feel right, and I am not that sort of gal. and I know I am making mountains out of molehills, but I guess this is one molehill I have a lot of stake in. and for the first time, I feel simultaneously ashamed and proud.
i maybe didn't handle it the way I wish I had, but at the same time there is something so reassuring about knowing my lines, knowing my rules and being full of conviction. i am so rarely sure about anything, but if I ever was it's now.
so there you go. possibly the worst love letter sentiment of all time, but it feels like I passed some test I didn't know about. I choose him. Over everyone, anyone, any minute, everyday. And no one, not even cute guys who would have turned my head in days gone by, are more important, meaningful and downright perfect than that.
it's one hell of a thing to be so smitten.
03 August 2009
Films of 2009: The Bumper Edition.
Thus continues my filmic saga of 09. I've included the first half of the year below, just to make it a complete list. In sum: I watch a lot of crap. It's surprising how little that bothers me.
(ps, * means I'd seen it before.)
August:
53. Gladiator*
54. Whale Rider*
September
55. Mean Girls*
56. National Treasure*
57. Ghost in the Shell
58. Romancing the Stone*
59. Bright Young Things*
60. Anastasia (1997)*
October
61. The Bridges of Madison County
62. Picture Perfect*
63. The Scarlet Pimpernel* (1999)
64. Lady of Burlesque (1943)
65. Murder She Wrote, South by Southwest (feature length special! 1997)
66. XMen :The Last Stand*
67. The Nightmare Before Christmas*
November
68. Priceless
69. Shakespeare in Love *
70. Death on the Nile
71. While You Were Sleeping*
December
72. Muppet Christmas Carol*
73. Hound of the Baskervilles (1997)
74. Sherlock Holmes (2009)
75. Fellowship of the Ring*
Two Towers*
Return of the King* (all of these were partial, but together I think they still count as at least one as it was like 5 something hours of viewing)
76. 101 Dalmetians* (1996)
77. Journey to the Centre of the Earth (1999)
78. Bandits*
79. The Holiday
80. Enemy at the Gate
TV:
The Wire Series 2, 30 Rock Series 2, Peep Show Series 1 & 2, Jeeves & Wooster Series 1, Being Erica, Samantha Who Series 2, The Scarlet Pimpernel, more Poirot than is good for me.
January
1. Jurassic Park*
2. The Philadelphia Story*
3. Enchanted*
4. My Fair Lady*
5. As You Like It (Branagh, 2007)
6. Chocolat*
7. Walk the Line*
8. Sense & Sensibility* (Lee, 1994)
February
(my only excuse for this length is two intercontinental flights this month)
9. Persuasion*
10. Monthy Python's The Meaning of Life*
11. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
12. Rachel's Getting Married
13. First Daughter
14. Cheers for Miss Bishop (1941)
15. Spectacular!
16, Arthur and the Invisibles
17. The International
18. Wanted
19. Coraline 3D
20. Battlefield Earth* (I am ashamed of this. Mostly because it's not the first time. It's my mother's fault.)
21. How to Lose Friends and Alienate People
March:
22. Stardust
23. Singing In the Rain*
24. Addams Family*
25. Watchmen
26. Starship Troopers*
April:
27. The Devil Wears Prada
28. Shoot 'Em Up
29. Juno*
30. Little Women (Armstrong, 1994)*
31. Ice Princess
32. Ghost in the Shell
33. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind*
May:
34.The Muppet Movie*
35. Son of Rambow
36. Clueless*
37. Star Trek (Abrahms, 2009)
38. Master and Commander: Far Side of the World*
June:
39. Dan in Real Life
40. Muppets Take Manhattan*
41. That Thing You Do*
42. Transformers
43. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade*
44. Blues Brothers
45. Anchorman*
July:
46. 40 Year Old Virgin
47. Practical Magic
48. Strictly Ballroom
49. Wedding Crashers
50. The Family Stone (ugh)
51. Ever After *
52. Romeo + Juliet (Luhrmann, 1997)*
I can't believe I've only been the cinema 7 times. Jesus.
Also, TV on DVD/OD (which sort of counts) :
Battlestar Galactica Season 2-3,
The Wire Series 2 (in progress),
Californicaton 1 (in progress),
Nature's Great Events,
Samantha Who? series 2,
30 Rock Series 1 & 2,
Flight of the Conchords Season 1,
That Mitchell & Webb Look series 3,
No wonder I never have any time. That's about 184 hours of sitting in front of the tube, not including watching regular tv. Lordy.
(ps, * means I'd seen it before.)
August:
53. Gladiator*
54. Whale Rider*
September
55. Mean Girls*
56. National Treasure*
57. Ghost in the Shell
58. Romancing the Stone*
59. Bright Young Things*
60. Anastasia (1997)*
October
61. The Bridges of Madison County
62. Picture Perfect*
63. The Scarlet Pimpernel* (1999)
64. Lady of Burlesque (1943)
65. Murder She Wrote, South by Southwest (feature length special! 1997)
66. XMen :The Last Stand*
67. The Nightmare Before Christmas*
November
68. Priceless
69. Shakespeare in Love *
70. Death on the Nile
71. While You Were Sleeping*
December
72. Muppet Christmas Carol*
73. Hound of the Baskervilles (1997)
74. Sherlock Holmes (2009)
75. Fellowship of the Ring*
Two Towers*
Return of the King* (all of these were partial, but together I think they still count as at least one as it was like 5 something hours of viewing)
76. 101 Dalmetians* (1996)
77. Journey to the Centre of the Earth (1999)
78. Bandits*
79. The Holiday
80. Enemy at the Gate
TV:
The Wire Series 2, 30 Rock Series 2, Peep Show Series 1 & 2, Jeeves & Wooster Series 1, Being Erica, Samantha Who Series 2, The Scarlet Pimpernel, more Poirot than is good for me.
January
1. Jurassic Park*
2. The Philadelphia Story*
3. Enchanted*
4. My Fair Lady*
5. As You Like It (Branagh, 2007)
6. Chocolat*
7. Walk the Line*
8. Sense & Sensibility* (Lee, 1994)
February
(my only excuse for this length is two intercontinental flights this month)
9. Persuasion*
10. Monthy Python's The Meaning of Life*
11. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
12. Rachel's Getting Married
13. First Daughter
14. Cheers for Miss Bishop (1941)
15. Spectacular!
16, Arthur and the Invisibles
17. The International
18. Wanted
19. Coraline 3D
20. Battlefield Earth* (I am ashamed of this. Mostly because it's not the first time. It's my mother's fault.)
21. How to Lose Friends and Alienate People
March:
22. Stardust
23. Singing In the Rain*
24. Addams Family*
25. Watchmen
26. Starship Troopers*
April:
27. The Devil Wears Prada
28. Shoot 'Em Up
29. Juno*
30. Little Women (Armstrong, 1994)*
31. Ice Princess
32. Ghost in the Shell
33. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind*
May:
34.The Muppet Movie*
35. Son of Rambow
36. Clueless*
37. Star Trek (Abrahms, 2009)
38. Master and Commander: Far Side of the World*
June:
39. Dan in Real Life
40. Muppets Take Manhattan*
41. That Thing You Do*
42. Transformers
43. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade*
44. Blues Brothers
45. Anchorman*
July:
46. 40 Year Old Virgin
47. Practical Magic
48. Strictly Ballroom
49. Wedding Crashers
50. The Family Stone (ugh)
51. Ever After *
52. Romeo + Juliet (Luhrmann, 1997)*
I can't believe I've only been the cinema 7 times. Jesus.
Also, TV on DVD/OD (which sort of counts) :
Battlestar Galactica Season 2-3,
The Wire Series 2 (in progress),
Californicaton 1 (in progress),
Nature's Great Events,
Samantha Who? series 2,
30 Rock Series 1 & 2,
Flight of the Conchords Season 1,
That Mitchell & Webb Look series 3,
No wonder I never have any time. That's about 184 hours of sitting in front of the tube, not including watching regular tv. Lordy.
26 July 2009
Films of 2009 (so far)
Here below is my attempt at a film diary. Since the year is half over, I'd better update now.
I won't bore you with snarky synopses, but * means I'd seen it before - most of the time I am ashamed of this fact.
January
1. Jurassic Park*
2. The Philadelphia Story*
3. Enchanted*
4. My Fair Lady*
5. As You Like It (Branagh, 2007)
6. Chocolat*
7. Walk the Line*
8. Sense & Sensibility* (Lee, 1994)
February
(my only excuse for this length is two intercontinental flights to fill this month)
9. Persuasion*
10. Monthy Python's The Meaning of Life*
11. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
12. Rachel's Getting Married
13. First Daughter
14. Cheers for Miss Bishop (1941)
15. Spectacular!
16, Arthur and the Invisibles
17. The International
18. Wanted
19. Coraline 3D
20. Battlefield Earth* (I am ashamed of this. Mostly because it's not the first time. It's my mother's fault.)
21. How to Lose Friends and Alienate People
March:
22. Stardust
23. Singing In the Rain*
24. Addams Family*
25. Watchmen
26. Starship Troopers*
April:
27. The Devil Wears Prada
28. Shoot 'Em Up
29. Juno*
30. Little Women (Armstrong, 1994)*
31. Ice Princess
32. Ghost in the Shell
33. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind*
May:
34.The Muppet Movie*
35. Son of Rambow
36. Clueless*
37. Star Trek (Abrahms, 2009)
38. Master and Commander: Far Side of the World*
June:
39. Dan in Real Life
40. Muppets Take Manhattan*
41. That Thing You Do*
42. Transformers
43. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade*
44. Blues Brothers
45. Anchorman*
July:
46. 40 Year Old Virgin
47. Practical Magic
48. Strictly Ballroom
49. Wedding Crashers
50. The Family Stone (ugh)
51. Ever After *
52. Romeo + Juliet (Luhrmann, 1997)*
I can't believe I've only been the cinema 7 times. Jesus.
Also, TV on DVD/OD (which sort of counts) :
Battlestar Galactica Season 2-3,
The Wire Series 2 (in progress),
Californicaton 1 (in progress),
Nature's Great Events,
Samantha Who? series 2,
30 Rock Series 1 & 2,
Flight of the Conchords Season 1,
That Mitchell & Webb Look series 3,
No wonder I never have any time. That's about 184 hours of sitting in front of the tube, not including watching regular tv. Lordy.
I won't bore you with snarky synopses, but * means I'd seen it before - most of the time I am ashamed of this fact.
January
1. Jurassic Park*
2. The Philadelphia Story*
3. Enchanted*
4. My Fair Lady*
5. As You Like It (Branagh, 2007)
6. Chocolat*
7. Walk the Line*
8. Sense & Sensibility* (Lee, 1994)
February
(my only excuse for this length is two intercontinental flights to fill this month)
9. Persuasion*
10. Monthy Python's The Meaning of Life*
11. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
12. Rachel's Getting Married
13. First Daughter
14. Cheers for Miss Bishop (1941)
15. Spectacular!
16, Arthur and the Invisibles
17. The International
18. Wanted
19. Coraline 3D
20. Battlefield Earth* (I am ashamed of this. Mostly because it's not the first time. It's my mother's fault.)
21. How to Lose Friends and Alienate People
March:
22. Stardust
23. Singing In the Rain*
24. Addams Family*
25. Watchmen
26. Starship Troopers*
April:
27. The Devil Wears Prada
28. Shoot 'Em Up
29. Juno*
30. Little Women (Armstrong, 1994)*
31. Ice Princess
32. Ghost in the Shell
33. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind*
May:
34.The Muppet Movie*
35. Son of Rambow
36. Clueless*
37. Star Trek (Abrahms, 2009)
38. Master and Commander: Far Side of the World*
June:
39. Dan in Real Life
40. Muppets Take Manhattan*
41. That Thing You Do*
42. Transformers
43. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade*
44. Blues Brothers
45. Anchorman*
July:
46. 40 Year Old Virgin
47. Practical Magic
48. Strictly Ballroom
49. Wedding Crashers
50. The Family Stone (ugh)
51. Ever After *
52. Romeo + Juliet (Luhrmann, 1997)*
I can't believe I've only been the cinema 7 times. Jesus.
Also, TV on DVD/OD (which sort of counts) :
Battlestar Galactica Season 2-3,
The Wire Series 2 (in progress),
Californicaton 1 (in progress),
Nature's Great Events,
Samantha Who? series 2,
30 Rock Series 1 & 2,
Flight of the Conchords Season 1,
That Mitchell & Webb Look series 3,
No wonder I never have any time. That's about 184 hours of sitting in front of the tube, not including watching regular tv. Lordy.
22 July 2009
today
So it's been pissing down for over a week now. Another soggy summer is not something to look forward to, especially when we have 5 days until we start building tents.
But the forecast for August is sunny, so let's all keep thinking good thoughts.
In other news, Liam leaves for Kent tomorrow morning and I am officially addicted to frappucinos.
ps - I really am saving the world one kid at a time. If it wasn't highly illegal I'd show everyone the video submissions to my competition. Suffice to say, one 9 year old made her own tshirt and acted out a poem she wrote as her entry. It was truly adorable.
But the forecast for August is sunny, so let's all keep thinking good thoughts.
In other news, Liam leaves for Kent tomorrow morning and I am officially addicted to frappucinos.
ps - I really am saving the world one kid at a time. If it wasn't highly illegal I'd show everyone the video submissions to my competition. Suffice to say, one 9 year old made her own tshirt and acted out a poem she wrote as her entry. It was truly adorable.
20 July 2009
summer 09
Since I'm halfway through the summer gauntlet, I'm trying to take stock. The eye of the storm and all that.
Since writing the below, what's happened?
We got rid of the bugs, and then they came back so we have another bout of folk in to handle it.
The launch and things all went off hitch free. Generally on the up and up. Smashing dress, mediocre speech (if i do say so myself.
We went to Italy for a spectacular 10 days of etruscan ruins, tuscan sunsets, long beach days and plenty of brilliant local wine and cheese. It was like a fairy tale (especially the amazing sex on the balcony looking out over a vineyard, etc etc). I've only just uploaded the pictures, so I'll show you properly soon.
Then finished up some really lovely community outreach work I'd been doing all spring. Yay inspiring teenagers at risk (with the tried and true spongebob)
I also found the keys to our private garden, so have spent much time picnicking with a box of puzzles and copy of empire.
This weekend, we went flying - Liam got a trial flight lesson as his birthday present. So it was us and pilot in a 4 seater propeller plane for an afternoon. Liam even got to drive it for a while and I wore a snazzy retro headset to be heard over the roaring engines. It was fucking amazing flying over the coast.
Then we went and splurged on a KFC bucket. I have never bought one before in my life, but the pms is doing weird things to me this time around including preggo-like cravings, so we had an evening of greasy mess and 30 Rock. God love the weekends.
Currently I am preparing for a week on my own (Liam's headed to Kent), and the necessary planning and tidying for the now eminent Festival madness/parental visit double whammy. I am even going so far as to plan my outfits (to cut down on emergency dry cleaning bills) and ordering my two weeks of groceries to be delivered in advance. How domestic.
Since writing the below, what's happened?
We got rid of the bugs, and then they came back so we have another bout of folk in to handle it.
The launch and things all went off hitch free. Generally on the up and up. Smashing dress, mediocre speech (if i do say so myself.
We went to Italy for a spectacular 10 days of etruscan ruins, tuscan sunsets, long beach days and plenty of brilliant local wine and cheese. It was like a fairy tale (especially the amazing sex on the balcony looking out over a vineyard, etc etc). I've only just uploaded the pictures, so I'll show you properly soon.
Then finished up some really lovely community outreach work I'd been doing all spring. Yay inspiring teenagers at risk (with the tried and true spongebob)
I also found the keys to our private garden, so have spent much time picnicking with a box of puzzles and copy of empire.
This weekend, we went flying - Liam got a trial flight lesson as his birthday present. So it was us and pilot in a 4 seater propeller plane for an afternoon. Liam even got to drive it for a while and I wore a snazzy retro headset to be heard over the roaring engines. It was fucking amazing flying over the coast.
Then we went and splurged on a KFC bucket. I have never bought one before in my life, but the pms is doing weird things to me this time around including preggo-like cravings, so we had an evening of greasy mess and 30 Rock. God love the weekends.
Currently I am preparing for a week on my own (Liam's headed to Kent), and the necessary planning and tidying for the now eminent Festival madness/parental visit double whammy. I am even going so far as to plan my outfits (to cut down on emergency dry cleaning bills) and ordering my two weeks of groceries to be delivered in advance. How domestic.
04 June 2009
someday I won't mind...
that my box spring has bugs living in it.
that the guy who came to fix it sprayed my house full of poison
that the poison has to stay there for DAYS to be effective.
that so far, the bugs aren't even dead.
that on top of this, i am sick and tired, but work is better than home so I just keep going in.
that my sunburn is peeling
that in 1 week i have to do the big press speech/radio show/podcast gauntlet
and i am breaking out from stress and lack of sleep
it's the shittiest thing to be so trapped.
that the guy who came to fix it sprayed my house full of poison
that the poison has to stay there for DAYS to be effective.
that so far, the bugs aren't even dead.
that on top of this, i am sick and tired, but work is better than home so I just keep going in.
that my sunburn is peeling
that in 1 week i have to do the big press speech/radio show/podcast gauntlet
and i am breaking out from stress and lack of sleep
it's the shittiest thing to be so trapped.
19 May 2009
eurovision 2009
Eurovision is a unique cultural anomaly. Anyone outside the EU has probably (read: hopefully) never heard of, much less witnessed, this pop-trash array of madness.
However, it's schlocky camp fun and the earnestness of the international competitors are hard to pass up. Plus, I have had so many people in my life who would adore this American Idol/Hands Across America/Its a Small World circus (in gold lame with flame throwers) I feel some small moral obligation to enjoy it for them (in their ignorant, blissful absence).
Let's do this proper interview style.
What is Eurovision?
The eurovision song contest is an annual european competition. Each member state sends a group/band/singer to perform an original musical number. Then, citizens of each country vote on a winner. (there are lots of knock out rounds and by-laws I won't bore you with)
How is that fun?
You have obviously never witnessed the sort of acts that get on here.
My all time favourite was the 2006 winners from Finland.
Orc/Klingon death metal has never been cooler. The winning song was "Hard Rock, Hallelujah!".
There have also be great instances of 'traditional' dancing including clogs, leiderhosen, ukeleles and all manner of props, costumes and madness anyone with half a soul would be amused by.
This year's showstoppers were from the Ukraine. It was cirque do soleil porn.
I can't seem to get the video to load right, but it's well worth it. Trust me - there is ladder dancing, flame spurts, a shitty drum solo - and oh yes, gyrating Spartans in too-short silver loin clothes. The act starts 44 seconds in (after some of the glorious intro blads)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZJdQESnyu4
though this was our favourite of 09, the fire throwing rappers and electric cello playing girl group were also impressively weird.
What does the winner get?
Usually obscure european fame, but sometimes they become major success stories.
Case and point:
or
or even
She's not european!
There are some minor loopholes for descendants or people with ties to different
countries. It is highly competitive and there is always chat of politics and cheating.
How can something so inane be so political?
Well there is a commonly held belief in the west that all balkans flock together. Scandiavia notoriously votes internally. Tiny countries almost always vote for their bigger, powerful neighbours. Plus, things like the huge UK ex-pat community in Greece can swing the vote. There is much speculation on border hopping (as in driving across the state line) just for the voting too.
It's a big incestuous nightmare wrapped up in gold lame and spandex really.
So how does Eurovision work?
Each country selects their 'act' by voting, concerts, tv performance- what have you (I'll tell you about britains legendary 2009 attempt later.)
Several knock out rounds across Europe lead to the eventual 26 nations performing in the finals - broadcast live on BBC One and other major tv stations across the continent (snippy commentary now by the oh so patriotic Graham Norton).
During the designated portion of the show (usually during a cringe worthy tour of the host country with staged bad jokes that out do the Oscars) any person in any country can call in their vote. Then, a representative from each country casts the top three majority votes for points (12 points for 1st, 10 for 2nd, 8 for 3rd).
They call out each countries vote live on tv (a gruelling hour of bad hair and green screen backdrops of European moments amounting to "Hello, this is Azerbijan calling. Our votes go to..." (and yes, Azerbijan is a country). There are 43 countries in total I think. This part is mindbendingly boring.
Does everyone sing in English then?
Usually yes - most countries think this caters to the widest audience and play for votes by singing in the common tongue. except the french who always sing in french I assume as some weird protest.
Jesus. How long has this madness been going on?
Since the 50s. It was some post-war rekindling european ties initiative. New countries seem to get added all the time. The worst is Portugal who had their 45th year in the competition this year and they have never won.
But then of course, last year Britain came last which was shockingly embarassing.
Oh yeah, what was that about Britains tragic madness this year?
Generally the UK, and much of the west, dont take this too seriously. It's mediocre artists no one has ever heard of singing stupid songs (once it was, I kid you not, a dance number based on airline stewardesses - they even mimed the hand motions.).
But lots of countries send their biggest pop stars. It's like a huge honour. Someone this year was Malta's best selling artist- another was the eastern european opener for the Rolling Stones. It's a big deal.
So, when we came last in 08, something had to be done.
Enter Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Why he cared so much I know not (bruised national pride seems daft in this context), but he launched a nationwide search for the 09 entry - culminating in his own show Eurovision: Your Country Needs You, an American Idol style tv show. It was fucking insane (and unwatchable.).
anyway, so he found some down and out belter who was made a star. She did a huge promo tour, it was the light of his life. She still came fifth, and if I'm honest she has some pipes, but his song totally blew (he even played the piano on stage with her, the toad faced git). It was truly truly weird.
Wow, that doesn't make any sense at all. Eurovision is a kettle of loons
Ah, but that is the beauty of eurovision. Snarky commentary, ridiculous dance numbers, too much swedish beer (and weird foreign candy). it's like the best sleep over party you never had.
Eurovision rocks. i only wish we could institute a state-by-state american version.
However, it's schlocky camp fun and the earnestness of the international competitors are hard to pass up. Plus, I have had so many people in my life who would adore this American Idol/Hands Across America/Its a Small World circus (in gold lame with flame throwers) I feel some small moral obligation to enjoy it for them (in their ignorant, blissful absence).
Let's do this proper interview style.
What is Eurovision?
The eurovision song contest is an annual european competition. Each member state sends a group/band/singer to perform an original musical number. Then, citizens of each country vote on a winner. (there are lots of knock out rounds and by-laws I won't bore you with)
How is that fun?
You have obviously never witnessed the sort of acts that get on here.
My all time favourite was the 2006 winners from Finland.
Orc/Klingon death metal has never been cooler. The winning song was "Hard Rock, Hallelujah!".
There have also be great instances of 'traditional' dancing including clogs, leiderhosen, ukeleles and all manner of props, costumes and madness anyone with half a soul would be amused by.
This year's showstoppers were from the Ukraine. It was cirque do soleil porn.
I can't seem to get the video to load right, but it's well worth it. Trust me - there is ladder dancing, flame spurts, a shitty drum solo - and oh yes, gyrating Spartans in too-short silver loin clothes. The act starts 44 seconds in (after some of the glorious intro blads)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZJdQESnyu4
though this was our favourite of 09, the fire throwing rappers and electric cello playing girl group were also impressively weird.
What does the winner get?
Usually obscure european fame, but sometimes they become major success stories.
Case and point:
or
or even
She's not european!
There are some minor loopholes for descendants or people with ties to different
countries. It is highly competitive and there is always chat of politics and cheating.
How can something so inane be so political?
Well there is a commonly held belief in the west that all balkans flock together. Scandiavia notoriously votes internally. Tiny countries almost always vote for their bigger, powerful neighbours. Plus, things like the huge UK ex-pat community in Greece can swing the vote. There is much speculation on border hopping (as in driving across the state line) just for the voting too.
It's a big incestuous nightmare wrapped up in gold lame and spandex really.
So how does Eurovision work?
Each country selects their 'act' by voting, concerts, tv performance- what have you (I'll tell you about britains legendary 2009 attempt later.)
Several knock out rounds across Europe lead to the eventual 26 nations performing in the finals - broadcast live on BBC One and other major tv stations across the continent (snippy commentary now by the oh so patriotic Graham Norton).
During the designated portion of the show (usually during a cringe worthy tour of the host country with staged bad jokes that out do the Oscars) any person in any country can call in their vote. Then, a representative from each country casts the top three majority votes for points (12 points for 1st, 10 for 2nd, 8 for 3rd).
They call out each countries vote live on tv (a gruelling hour of bad hair and green screen backdrops of European moments amounting to "Hello, this is Azerbijan calling. Our votes go to..." (and yes, Azerbijan is a country). There are 43 countries in total I think. This part is mindbendingly boring.
Does everyone sing in English then?
Usually yes - most countries think this caters to the widest audience and play for votes by singing in the common tongue. except the french who always sing in french I assume as some weird protest.
Jesus. How long has this madness been going on?
Since the 50s. It was some post-war rekindling european ties initiative. New countries seem to get added all the time. The worst is Portugal who had their 45th year in the competition this year and they have never won.
But then of course, last year Britain came last which was shockingly embarassing.
Oh yeah, what was that about Britains tragic madness this year?
Generally the UK, and much of the west, dont take this too seriously. It's mediocre artists no one has ever heard of singing stupid songs (once it was, I kid you not, a dance number based on airline stewardesses - they even mimed the hand motions.).
But lots of countries send their biggest pop stars. It's like a huge honour. Someone this year was Malta's best selling artist- another was the eastern european opener for the Rolling Stones. It's a big deal.
So, when we came last in 08, something had to be done.
Enter Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Why he cared so much I know not (bruised national pride seems daft in this context), but he launched a nationwide search for the 09 entry - culminating in his own show Eurovision: Your Country Needs You, an American Idol style tv show. It was fucking insane (and unwatchable.).
anyway, so he found some down and out belter who was made a star. She did a huge promo tour, it was the light of his life. She still came fifth, and if I'm honest she has some pipes, but his song totally blew (he even played the piano on stage with her, the toad faced git). It was truly truly weird.
Wow, that doesn't make any sense at all. Eurovision is a kettle of loons
Ah, but that is the beauty of eurovision. Snarky commentary, ridiculous dance numbers, too much swedish beer (and weird foreign candy). it's like the best sleep over party you never had.
Eurovision rocks. i only wish we could institute a state-by-state american version.
06 May 2009
i know i am sick when i see stars just from standing up.
when i snap at someone looking at me askance.
when i have horrible daydreams about my neighbours because they didn't sort the mail out by apartment.
when my mouth takes like a peach that's gone off.
when my middle is hard and swollen and my outsides are soggy and limp.
the worst bit is, my stress levels are up so my immune system is at an all time low. exactly when i can't afford the time away from the office is when it all comes crashing down. and on top of the sinus headache, this morning i woke up with cramps.
sick+pms=hell.
when i snap at someone looking at me askance.
when i have horrible daydreams about my neighbours because they didn't sort the mail out by apartment.
when my mouth takes like a peach that's gone off.
when my middle is hard and swollen and my outsides are soggy and limp.
the worst bit is, my stress levels are up so my immune system is at an all time low. exactly when i can't afford the time away from the office is when it all comes crashing down. and on top of the sinus headache, this morning i woke up with cramps.
sick+pms=hell.
04 May 2009
Sex is better than any drug
I am great in bed.
When most people classify themselves as good in bed, they usually mean to intimate they are skilled at pleasuring their partner. That somehow, if you were in a bizarre situation where you must chose a sexual partner from a line up, they should rank higher than the next dude because of experience. I think it's supposed to be a turn on, since it's unlikely to be a fact based on unbiased scientific observation.
This is not at all what I mean.
I am great in bed. Namely, because I am completely and utterly myself. Having sex is like the absolute pinnacle of life somehow (and not in the middle school film strip way teachers mean, though it can be that too I guess. Me, I use condoms.). I am wholly connected to my body, this moment, this planet. I am nothing but the experience. I am euphoric. I am the best version of me there is.
Having an orgasm is the only instance where nothing else exists. No worries, no thoughts, not even a body to be self conscious about. Suddenly it's everything and nothing. Huge and unspeakable. Awe inspiring and mind blowing. Limitless and clear. Like drowning, but more fleeting.
I hope this is what being in space feels like. In my image laden mind, it is what I wish being in a star trek transporter beam is like - everywhere and nowhere, with lots of sparkly tingly world-swallowing calm.
But, this all encompassing intimate release comes with some draw backs (for other people).
It means I can be selfish in bed sometimes. 8 years of doing it on my own before I cracked the seal means I know what I am doing and can be slightly, ahem, direct.
It is insanely addictive and can become a hobby more than an occasional pleasantry.
It also means every neighbour I have ever had hates my guts.
Absolute release and perfect zen freedom, does not come with a mute button.
And it is fucking loud sometimes. Like screaming. You should try it sometime, it's the most amazing feeling.
(as a side note, I am incredibly self conscious when visiting friends and relatives. If I have ever had sex while you are within half a mile, I am bound to behave by a combination of religious shame and emotional guilt (and the grossness). Don't be afraid. But do note, this is also why I am always crabby and intolerant at social gatherings of longer than 3 days. I'm in withdrawl.)
Anyway, my point was, this full body-less experience that I think is what the milky way would feel if it had feelings (and vocal chords), is just sort of part of the deal.
I'm not giving up my 30 second interludes of pure bliss - I have to deal with the rest of the world as soon as I come to. Not for crabby old ladies or your stupid dog. Leave me the fuck alone and buy ear plugs. I'll just pretend it never happened anyway.
But i am not so cold hearted as all that. I do feel bad about it. I do consciously take notice when the neighbours are out, and always go to bed early if I need attention. I am careful.
Which brings us to last night.
We'd had a fight. We made up. In the wee hours of the morning, it turns into make up sex all fumbling in the dark. And just as I was full throttle and seeing stars (for the first time in A WEEK mind you), I started roaring like a banshee. Not on purpose, but then, not entirely un-on-purpose as releasing inhibitions includes any regard for other human life.
Looking back on it, I'm pretty sure he leaned in closer in a conspiratorial whisper, thinking we'd both giggle and snuggle all connected in this accidental faux pas.
But the second the "shhhh" shattered my beautifully unconscious mind I was many things, but not assuaged and and certainly no longer sexy. Mostly angry, hurt, horrified, ashamed, guilty, dirty and betrayed (I've had all day to think about it).
I instantly shoved him away and started sobbing. I have never felt so disgusting.
I have also never realised quite how big a deal it is for me. To be me. To be accepted. To be allowed to let go and yet feel so connected. To have someone love me just as I am (embarrassing as that can be) and then to feel like it was ripped away from me.
It was a complete misunderstanding, and we're fine now. But part of me is still shocked at how raw I was. I guess being that open, intense sorrow is as intoxicating as intense pleasure.
But it was fucking weird. And from now on, I am keeping sex like that for before midnight when it can bother nobody (much) and I can scream til the cows come home, just the way we both like it.
When most people classify themselves as good in bed, they usually mean to intimate they are skilled at pleasuring their partner. That somehow, if you were in a bizarre situation where you must chose a sexual partner from a line up, they should rank higher than the next dude because of experience. I think it's supposed to be a turn on, since it's unlikely to be a fact based on unbiased scientific observation.
This is not at all what I mean.
I am great in bed. Namely, because I am completely and utterly myself. Having sex is like the absolute pinnacle of life somehow (and not in the middle school film strip way teachers mean, though it can be that too I guess. Me, I use condoms.). I am wholly connected to my body, this moment, this planet. I am nothing but the experience. I am euphoric. I am the best version of me there is.
Having an orgasm is the only instance where nothing else exists. No worries, no thoughts, not even a body to be self conscious about. Suddenly it's everything and nothing. Huge and unspeakable. Awe inspiring and mind blowing. Limitless and clear. Like drowning, but more fleeting.
I hope this is what being in space feels like. In my image laden mind, it is what I wish being in a star trek transporter beam is like - everywhere and nowhere, with lots of sparkly tingly world-swallowing calm.
But, this all encompassing intimate release comes with some draw backs (for other people).
It means I can be selfish in bed sometimes. 8 years of doing it on my own before I cracked the seal means I know what I am doing and can be slightly, ahem, direct.
It is insanely addictive and can become a hobby more than an occasional pleasantry.
It also means every neighbour I have ever had hates my guts.
Absolute release and perfect zen freedom, does not come with a mute button.
And it is fucking loud sometimes. Like screaming. You should try it sometime, it's the most amazing feeling.
(as a side note, I am incredibly self conscious when visiting friends and relatives. If I have ever had sex while you are within half a mile, I am bound to behave by a combination of religious shame and emotional guilt (and the grossness). Don't be afraid. But do note, this is also why I am always crabby and intolerant at social gatherings of longer than 3 days. I'm in withdrawl.)
Anyway, my point was, this full body-less experience that I think is what the milky way would feel if it had feelings (and vocal chords), is just sort of part of the deal.
I'm not giving up my 30 second interludes of pure bliss - I have to deal with the rest of the world as soon as I come to. Not for crabby old ladies or your stupid dog. Leave me the fuck alone and buy ear plugs. I'll just pretend it never happened anyway.
But i am not so cold hearted as all that. I do feel bad about it. I do consciously take notice when the neighbours are out, and always go to bed early if I need attention. I am careful.
Which brings us to last night.
We'd had a fight. We made up. In the wee hours of the morning, it turns into make up sex all fumbling in the dark. And just as I was full throttle and seeing stars (for the first time in A WEEK mind you), I started roaring like a banshee. Not on purpose, but then, not entirely un-on-purpose as releasing inhibitions includes any regard for other human life.
Looking back on it, I'm pretty sure he leaned in closer in a conspiratorial whisper, thinking we'd both giggle and snuggle all connected in this accidental faux pas.
But the second the "shhhh" shattered my beautifully unconscious mind I was many things, but not assuaged and and certainly no longer sexy. Mostly angry, hurt, horrified, ashamed, guilty, dirty and betrayed (I've had all day to think about it).
I instantly shoved him away and started sobbing. I have never felt so disgusting.
I have also never realised quite how big a deal it is for me. To be me. To be accepted. To be allowed to let go and yet feel so connected. To have someone love me just as I am (embarrassing as that can be) and then to feel like it was ripped away from me.
It was a complete misunderstanding, and we're fine now. But part of me is still shocked at how raw I was. I guess being that open, intense sorrow is as intoxicating as intense pleasure.
But it was fucking weird. And from now on, I am keeping sex like that for before midnight when it can bother nobody (much) and I can scream til the cows come home, just the way we both like it.
28 April 2009
There is a lot to say.
I am conscious I still haven't told you about our weekend excursion to the beautiful Stockholm.
Or how we are changing our whole world, one relationship at a time.
or how I am swamped and broken from work and not really sure I can do this any more.
or how i went to an old school house party last weekend for the first time in years, stayed out til dawn (2am is waaaaaaaay past my bedtime), and caught up with friends I adore (it was for a friend who was recently nominated for the Carnegie medal!)
The thing is, everytime I mean to write, I get swamped with guilt and overwhelmed with all the things I "need" to record and give up until I have the time and energy to do it justice.
I hate to break it to you, but I am starting to think that time might not come. Not now spring is snowballing into summer and festival season is already breathing down my neck.
BUT, I have just booked a long weekend to visit my dad in Ireland and am scheduling a whole two week holiday for July to properly rest and relax (is that what normal people do on vacation?). I cannot wait.
Though the sadness that tinges a life where you live weekend to weekend is a bit unsavoury for the likes of me. It's finally time.
Anyway, things could be way worse. I am only tired, not starving or depressed or mugged. But yeah, I guess I don't want to forget this. It's a bit rubbish and I want to end this cycle before it engulfs my sanity.
I am conscious I still haven't told you about our weekend excursion to the beautiful Stockholm.
Or how we are changing our whole world, one relationship at a time.
or how I am swamped and broken from work and not really sure I can do this any more.
or how i went to an old school house party last weekend for the first time in years, stayed out til dawn (2am is waaaaaaaay past my bedtime), and caught up with friends I adore (it was for a friend who was recently nominated for the Carnegie medal!)
The thing is, everytime I mean to write, I get swamped with guilt and overwhelmed with all the things I "need" to record and give up until I have the time and energy to do it justice.
I hate to break it to you, but I am starting to think that time might not come. Not now spring is snowballing into summer and festival season is already breathing down my neck.
BUT, I have just booked a long weekend to visit my dad in Ireland and am scheduling a whole two week holiday for July to properly rest and relax (is that what normal people do on vacation?). I cannot wait.
Though the sadness that tinges a life where you live weekend to weekend is a bit unsavoury for the likes of me. It's finally time.
Anyway, things could be way worse. I am only tired, not starving or depressed or mugged. But yeah, I guess I don't want to forget this. It's a bit rubbish and I want to end this cycle before it engulfs my sanity.
17 April 2009
tide and time
sometimes I have these minor revalations that change everything. Or at least, they change how I look at things, which subsequently effects everything else in my world.
Like realising I don't like candy. Once the high is gone I feel sick, and it's just not worth it.
Or walking down the cherry blossom streets and realising my melancholy joy is the feeling of breaking up. Letting go. Because I know soon I will be leaving this town, everything that makes me smile feels like the last time.
Last weekend we had one. For the long easter weekend, we went to the sea. It's 7 minute train ride from the centre of town. Something we do quite a lot actually- but usually ad hoc and just for a little while. This was systematic excursion involving a picnic, a 7 mile shorline hike and discovering a mosterous and fascinating dead seal.
While the seal carcass - which was mostly flubber and skeleton - was freaking sweet (and gross), it's not really my point.
The molecular epihpany was that we are both shore people. I've always loved the water. As a kid I romanticised it as my dad's selkie genes. But being by the water is a sure fire way to feel alive. No matter how often, how dirty, even industrial wastelands prove enlightening.
So we decided. we are going to live on the water. On the coast. On a big wide piece of water that can engulf, ensnare, and even promise salvation.
Just saying it we both felt the scales fall from our eyes and the weight slip from our shoulders. It's such a funny thing to care about so vicerally. But there you go.
We'll take it small - maybe Brighton or Chicago or San Francisco for artsy urban bike-riding sea fronts. We're not forsaking our way of life yet. It'll be years before we work up to proper shack and shanty cronies who smell of fish guts.
Like realising I don't like candy. Once the high is gone I feel sick, and it's just not worth it.
Or walking down the cherry blossom streets and realising my melancholy joy is the feeling of breaking up. Letting go. Because I know soon I will be leaving this town, everything that makes me smile feels like the last time.
Last weekend we had one. For the long easter weekend, we went to the sea. It's 7 minute train ride from the centre of town. Something we do quite a lot actually- but usually ad hoc and just for a little while. This was systematic excursion involving a picnic, a 7 mile shorline hike and discovering a mosterous and fascinating dead seal.
While the seal carcass - which was mostly flubber and skeleton - was freaking sweet (and gross), it's not really my point.
The molecular epihpany was that we are both shore people. I've always loved the water. As a kid I romanticised it as my dad's selkie genes. But being by the water is a sure fire way to feel alive. No matter how often, how dirty, even industrial wastelands prove enlightening.
So we decided. we are going to live on the water. On the coast. On a big wide piece of water that can engulf, ensnare, and even promise salvation.
Just saying it we both felt the scales fall from our eyes and the weight slip from our shoulders. It's such a funny thing to care about so vicerally. But there you go.
We'll take it small - maybe Brighton or Chicago or San Francisco for artsy urban bike-riding sea fronts. We're not forsaking our way of life yet. It'll be years before we work up to proper shack and shanty cronies who smell of fish guts.
05 April 2009
You should know, I live in the most beautiful city on earth.
it's hard to believe one can forget a fact like that, but when it's so fucking hard most of the time, you'd be surprised how easy it can be to forget.
Liam is away this week, so I have a lot of time on my hands. It's helping me remember.
I find myself doing a lot of wandering and staring out of windows. And man, is there a lot of ground to cover.
yesterday I walked the river valley that cuts through town. rushing water, budding trees, calm peaceful countryside under spanning bridges and beneath georgian townhouses. so tranquil, so yuppie. so freeing.
today, I climbed calton hill - the home of grecian monuments and wild landscapes. the 360 views cover the sea, the volcanic hills beyond town and the heart of the city itself - the gothic spires and monolithic castle. It's truly unbelievable. perched on a bench up there watching the influx of tourists on a sunny morning proved beyond a doubt, it's not just me - everyone who comes here feels like they can fly.
after that I went and saw Juno again.
It was some free charity screening, but it's my movie - our movie. And being home alone, it was really nice to see it and remember how lovely it was of Liam to take me. twice. I always cry. Tears of melancholy joy and profound emotional understanding of what it is to love so deeply, and so stupidly. That's what family is like. Completely unexaplainable.
Anyway, so now I am home.
I have taken to wearing my 5 inch chinese laundry fuck off heels in the house when Liam's not home. I think it's because there is no where else for me to wear them.
It's pretty killer, but also makes me worry if there is a cat-lady shoe equivalent I should be wary of in my old age. I can see a future me decked out like some freakish sunset boulevard hag, strutting the hall in pearls and not much else, prone to sedaris like quips from the neighbours. the worrying part is I don't really care. It's fun. And probably always will be.
it's hard to believe one can forget a fact like that, but when it's so fucking hard most of the time, you'd be surprised how easy it can be to forget.
Liam is away this week, so I have a lot of time on my hands. It's helping me remember.
I find myself doing a lot of wandering and staring out of windows. And man, is there a lot of ground to cover.
yesterday I walked the river valley that cuts through town. rushing water, budding trees, calm peaceful countryside under spanning bridges and beneath georgian townhouses. so tranquil, so yuppie. so freeing.
today, I climbed calton hill - the home of grecian monuments and wild landscapes. the 360 views cover the sea, the volcanic hills beyond town and the heart of the city itself - the gothic spires and monolithic castle. It's truly unbelievable. perched on a bench up there watching the influx of tourists on a sunny morning proved beyond a doubt, it's not just me - everyone who comes here feels like they can fly.
after that I went and saw Juno again.
It was some free charity screening, but it's my movie - our movie. And being home alone, it was really nice to see it and remember how lovely it was of Liam to take me. twice. I always cry. Tears of melancholy joy and profound emotional understanding of what it is to love so deeply, and so stupidly. That's what family is like. Completely unexaplainable.
Anyway, so now I am home.
I have taken to wearing my 5 inch chinese laundry fuck off heels in the house when Liam's not home. I think it's because there is no where else for me to wear them.
It's pretty killer, but also makes me worry if there is a cat-lady shoe equivalent I should be wary of in my old age. I can see a future me decked out like some freakish sunset boulevard hag, strutting the hall in pearls and not much else, prone to sedaris like quips from the neighbours. the worrying part is I don't really care. It's fun. And probably always will be.
22 March 2009
out and about
It is beautiful out.
Despite the depressing work situation, it is positively gorgeous in the world outside. Daffodils, sunshine and the twinkling sound of song birds.
I drove to Perth the other day. It's just over an hour straight north - drive over the firth (one of the biggest suspension bridges in the world), through the Kingdom of Fife, and hang a right at Birnham Wood - the very forest of Macbethian fame.
It was freaking awesome. There were pheasants at the side of the road and mist was blanketing the hills.
Part of me aches for wilderness. I cannot wait to have a few days off at Easter for grass lounging, sea watching and all manner of non-city-ish past times.
In other news: T-minus 3 days until Swedenborg!
Despite the depressing work situation, it is positively gorgeous in the world outside. Daffodils, sunshine and the twinkling sound of song birds.
I drove to Perth the other day. It's just over an hour straight north - drive over the firth (one of the biggest suspension bridges in the world), through the Kingdom of Fife, and hang a right at Birnham Wood - the very forest of Macbethian fame.
It was freaking awesome. There were pheasants at the side of the road and mist was blanketing the hills.
Part of me aches for wilderness. I cannot wait to have a few days off at Easter for grass lounging, sea watching and all manner of non-city-ish past times.
In other news: T-minus 3 days until Swedenborg!
14 March 2009
Sprung
Spring has landed.
Which means two things:
1, my work life is hella mad
2, my spirits and personal life is blossoming with the weather
I think this can be best summerised in today:
Wake up to sunshine at 9am
Liam is having brunch with a friend, so I putter about and do some intensive (for me) WiiFit yoga and boxing action
Take a leisurely shower
Log in remotely to the office and work solidly for almost 4 hours. On a saturday. When it's sunny. And I've already done the chores.
Liam comes home, we have lunch while chipping away at the massive edward gorey puzzle I got him for his birthday - it's been taking up the dining room table for almost a month.
I go for a huge long walk, chai tea latte in my mittened hand, up to the meadows for sunshine and a view of the hills.
Saunter back through town, the main thoroughfare is under construction, so am detoured through the gardens (nee moat) beneath the castle. The daffodils are out, the floral clock is done up and generally the city is waking up to the prospect of daylight for more than 5 hours at a time.
It's fucking amazing.
I always forget how much spring matters. The light, the weather. It's one thing to not wake up groggy and need less vitamins. It's entirely another to regain my libido and ability to do anything more active than lay down. Hallelujah! (Maybe we really should move to Austin.)
Which means two things:
1, my work life is hella mad
2, my spirits and personal life is blossoming with the weather
I think this can be best summerised in today:
Wake up to sunshine at 9am
Liam is having brunch with a friend, so I putter about and do some intensive (for me) WiiFit yoga and boxing action
Take a leisurely shower
Log in remotely to the office and work solidly for almost 4 hours. On a saturday. When it's sunny. And I've already done the chores.
Liam comes home, we have lunch while chipping away at the massive edward gorey puzzle I got him for his birthday - it's been taking up the dining room table for almost a month.
I go for a huge long walk, chai tea latte in my mittened hand, up to the meadows for sunshine and a view of the hills.
Saunter back through town, the main thoroughfare is under construction, so am detoured through the gardens (nee moat) beneath the castle. The daffodils are out, the floral clock is done up and generally the city is waking up to the prospect of daylight for more than 5 hours at a time.
It's fucking amazing.
I always forget how much spring matters. The light, the weather. It's one thing to not wake up groggy and need less vitamins. It's entirely another to regain my libido and ability to do anything more active than lay down. Hallelujah! (Maybe we really should move to Austin.)
07 March 2009
catch up
It's been a while.
Sorry about that. Sometimes I'm so busy trying to survive (or possibly forget) I don't really bother to reflect or report.
Let's review February's highlights:
- I visted my folks for a week. It was pretty much steak, pizza, movies, random philosophical chat, even more random tv and bucket loads of nothing. It was so great.
- while in dear old Okemos, I also had my cousin over for a sleepover. We watched a High School musical knock off about show choir on Nickelodeon. It was hilarious and yet heart warming.
- I also turned 27. I am in my late 20s, which doesn't matter to anyone in my world, since they are all 45 or 15, but it's somehow a bigger thing that the last few have been. To celebrate, my dad took me to the bar and we talked about things. It was really unremarkable and somehow exactly perfect.
- a week back in, the stress and madness are like I never left. I managed to miss out on a lot of drama (it was even in the press) and now I'm playing mad catch up and trying not to burn out.
- but Thursday, was great. In case you live under a rock (read: not professionally involved in childhood literacy) it was World Book Day. A fantastic holiday with very very low expectations. I was the guest speaker at the local dual campus boarding school. I kid you not- girls school, boys school, blazers, head teachers in tweed everything St Trinians and Enid Blyton taught you to wish for. I gave a lecture at both schools to the entirety of their freshman class then MC'ed a book award ceremony after school. I did not stay for their rendition of Merchant of Venice. It was adorable and exhausting. I have never had so much respect for teachers - and never been so disappointed in adults playing up to the stereotypes of single sex education. But, i seem to have gathered a fan club (one kid even asked me for a job after), and it was all happy disney in the end. yay.
So today I'm doing laundry, washing my hair and unpacking the last few boxes to remind myself I have a normal everyday life I've been neglecting of late. It's really quite refreshing.
Sorry about that. Sometimes I'm so busy trying to survive (or possibly forget) I don't really bother to reflect or report.
Let's review February's highlights:
- I visted my folks for a week. It was pretty much steak, pizza, movies, random philosophical chat, even more random tv and bucket loads of nothing. It was so great.
- while in dear old Okemos, I also had my cousin over for a sleepover. We watched a High School musical knock off about show choir on Nickelodeon. It was hilarious and yet heart warming.
- I also turned 27. I am in my late 20s, which doesn't matter to anyone in my world, since they are all 45 or 15, but it's somehow a bigger thing that the last few have been. To celebrate, my dad took me to the bar and we talked about things. It was really unremarkable and somehow exactly perfect.
- a week back in, the stress and madness are like I never left. I managed to miss out on a lot of drama (it was even in the press) and now I'm playing mad catch up and trying not to burn out.
- but Thursday, was great. In case you live under a rock (read: not professionally involved in childhood literacy) it was World Book Day. A fantastic holiday with very very low expectations. I was the guest speaker at the local dual campus boarding school. I kid you not- girls school, boys school, blazers, head teachers in tweed everything St Trinians and Enid Blyton taught you to wish for. I gave a lecture at both schools to the entirety of their freshman class then MC'ed a book award ceremony after school. I did not stay for their rendition of Merchant of Venice. It was adorable and exhausting. I have never had so much respect for teachers - and never been so disappointed in adults playing up to the stereotypes of single sex education. But, i seem to have gathered a fan club (one kid even asked me for a job after), and it was all happy disney in the end. yay.
So today I'm doing laundry, washing my hair and unpacking the last few boxes to remind myself I have a normal everyday life I've been neglecting of late. It's really quite refreshing.
16 February 2009
not quite home
in 25 hours I will be in my parents house.
i cannot wait to be taken care of. but I always worry I look forward to this too much, expect too much, and then am disappointed or guilty or both.
besides, I'm bummed I'm missing Liam's birthday.
i just wish my siblings would be there. otherwise it's just my parents house, a bit on the empty side.
but it's still a hell of a lot better than dodge. i can't wait.
i cannot wait to be taken care of. but I always worry I look forward to this too much, expect too much, and then am disappointed or guilty or both.
besides, I'm bummed I'm missing Liam's birthday.
i just wish my siblings would be there. otherwise it's just my parents house, a bit on the empty side.
but it's still a hell of a lot better than dodge. i can't wait.
10 February 2009
25 things
so, I have been thinking about this facebook cult of list making - a hobby after my own heart - and come to the conclusion mine is only half true.
anything i know my parents, high school cousins, colleagues and prospective employers can read better be.
so, here is an addendum if you like.
1. I really liked my midtwenties. now they are over, i feel like things happened - I happened. I am scared I'll stop being ahead of the curve and accomplished for my age and I don't know what comes next.
2. I generally like having sex any time of day but bedtime.
3. I still watch preschool tv. I sometimes think the happy-hippy simplicity and optimism of toddler television got me through middle and high school more than anything else.
4. I hope my siblings will be my best friends until the day I die.
5. Most of the people I know haven't the faintest clue there is more to me than the prim, careful, press conferencing sweater set chick. Some are aware of the latent comic book reading beer glugger. Very few know the deeply insecure housewife. Or the terrified neurotic. or the swearing nympho. or the adventuress. I keep it that way on purpose. I haven't decided yet if it's something I hope to grow out of - this onion seperatism.
6. I am theoretically bisexual. I find the human body, of both genders, positively seductive. But I have never had the hots for any women I know.
7. Since high schools I've always thought weighing 135 would be about right for me. I have no idea if I'll ever find out, I don't care enough to try.
8. I pick my nose
9. Reading books for a living is making me like them less. It's almost become a chore. I can't wait for it to get good again.
10. I think napping in the sunshine is next to godliness
11. knowing the women i know, my awareness of sexual abuse is so heightened, I am haunted by survivors guilt
12. I kind of like my voice better since I had vocal nodes. It's my own somehow.
13. I get deja vu from my dreams all the time. Often those dreams where I am just doing the laundry or putting away the Christmas decorations are more like premonition vingettes - perfectly staged and played out in my real life a few weeks later - same light, same outfit, same order of socks coming out of the dryer. I still don't know how much I subconciously influence this.
14. I could love anybody. Everyone is lovable after all, with the right information and circumstance and match. I told this to Liam very early in our friendship and I think knowing it was on of the reasons he was willing to risk falling in love with me.
15. I ate toast every morning for 2 years and now I've kind of gone off it. I hope it's a temporary hiatus.
16. I think my brother tells stories better than anyone. I still remember the day in high school that I realised this fact, and for a long time it made me hesitant to pipe up, since i'd never be as good.
17. I have old lady bones, I can feel a storm coming. Usually, if I can, I conveniently take up running for about an hour when a big one is on it's way. there is nothing like pounding down the street and the sky opens above you and it's just you, the rain and the road. I usually pretend I didn't know it would happen as people tend to think you're mad for only running to get drenched. But it's so cathardic.
18. I have a hole in my brain function scan from an accident when we were kids. (It's my sisters fault.) But since it's my memory that's effected, I even remember it wrong.
19 I really, really wish I had faith sometimes. It sometimes seems like life would be better for me if I could be religious.
20. I have an incredibly crass sense of humour, but I am extremely private about it. so much so I hate it when people tell bad jokes at parties.
21. I love spending sunny afternoons in empty galleries. I hate the rushing claustrophobia of crowded museums.
22. i can't think of a single thing I eat regularly these days that I would have been able to stomach as a kid, or even in college. I am secretly glad the one thing I'll take back with me when I leave europe is an adventurous palette.
23. i am not sure the feeling of homesickness i have for my siblings will ever go away.
24. i talk in weird voices and badly constructed wordisms all the time. i have to catch myself from up ending the english language in public quite a lot.
25. i love fire.
anything i know my parents, high school cousins, colleagues and prospective employers can read better be.
so, here is an addendum if you like.
1. I really liked my midtwenties. now they are over, i feel like things happened - I happened. I am scared I'll stop being ahead of the curve and accomplished for my age and I don't know what comes next.
2. I generally like having sex any time of day but bedtime.
3. I still watch preschool tv. I sometimes think the happy-hippy simplicity and optimism of toddler television got me through middle and high school more than anything else.
4. I hope my siblings will be my best friends until the day I die.
5. Most of the people I know haven't the faintest clue there is more to me than the prim, careful, press conferencing sweater set chick. Some are aware of the latent comic book reading beer glugger. Very few know the deeply insecure housewife. Or the terrified neurotic. or the swearing nympho. or the adventuress. I keep it that way on purpose. I haven't decided yet if it's something I hope to grow out of - this onion seperatism.
6. I am theoretically bisexual. I find the human body, of both genders, positively seductive. But I have never had the hots for any women I know.
7. Since high schools I've always thought weighing 135 would be about right for me. I have no idea if I'll ever find out, I don't care enough to try.
8. I pick my nose
9. Reading books for a living is making me like them less. It's almost become a chore. I can't wait for it to get good again.
10. I think napping in the sunshine is next to godliness
11. knowing the women i know, my awareness of sexual abuse is so heightened, I am haunted by survivors guilt
12. I kind of like my voice better since I had vocal nodes. It's my own somehow.
13. I get deja vu from my dreams all the time. Often those dreams where I am just doing the laundry or putting away the Christmas decorations are more like premonition vingettes - perfectly staged and played out in my real life a few weeks later - same light, same outfit, same order of socks coming out of the dryer. I still don't know how much I subconciously influence this.
14. I could love anybody. Everyone is lovable after all, with the right information and circumstance and match. I told this to Liam very early in our friendship and I think knowing it was on of the reasons he was willing to risk falling in love with me.
15. I ate toast every morning for 2 years and now I've kind of gone off it. I hope it's a temporary hiatus.
16. I think my brother tells stories better than anyone. I still remember the day in high school that I realised this fact, and for a long time it made me hesitant to pipe up, since i'd never be as good.
17. I have old lady bones, I can feel a storm coming. Usually, if I can, I conveniently take up running for about an hour when a big one is on it's way. there is nothing like pounding down the street and the sky opens above you and it's just you, the rain and the road. I usually pretend I didn't know it would happen as people tend to think you're mad for only running to get drenched. But it's so cathardic.
18. I have a hole in my brain function scan from an accident when we were kids. (It's my sisters fault.) But since it's my memory that's effected, I even remember it wrong.
19 I really, really wish I had faith sometimes. It sometimes seems like life would be better for me if I could be religious.
20. I have an incredibly crass sense of humour, but I am extremely private about it. so much so I hate it when people tell bad jokes at parties.
21. I love spending sunny afternoons in empty galleries. I hate the rushing claustrophobia of crowded museums.
22. i can't think of a single thing I eat regularly these days that I would have been able to stomach as a kid, or even in college. I am secretly glad the one thing I'll take back with me when I leave europe is an adventurous palette.
23. i am not sure the feeling of homesickness i have for my siblings will ever go away.
24. i talk in weird voices and badly constructed wordisms all the time. i have to catch myself from up ending the english language in public quite a lot.
25. i love fire.
04 February 2009
carpe diem!
Part of me wants to keep this as my own little secret for ever because it makes me so happy - but I am almost physically incapable of containing joyous news.
For my birthday, Liam is taking me away. On a secret vacation. He checked my diary and booked the tickets.
All I know is it's we are flying for an overnight (which means no where beyond Europe) at the end of March. On my birthday I get to know where it is.
Copenhagen?
Florence?
Budapest?
Paris?
Gibraltar?
It's like a fucking movie. If it is nowhere exotic, and just a night in a shitty hostel in the Midlands I'd be happy. Even if the plane gets cancelled and we end up in bed for the weekend I love that he planned this for me.
I love surprises. I love travelling. I love the glamour of being whisked away, especially if it's no where in particular. It's like the best present anyone has ever given me.
And now I'll stop, because I'm even making myself a little nautious with all the enthusiasm.
For my birthday, Liam is taking me away. On a secret vacation. He checked my diary and booked the tickets.
All I know is it's we are flying for an overnight (which means no where beyond Europe) at the end of March. On my birthday I get to know where it is.
Copenhagen?
Florence?
Budapest?
Paris?
Gibraltar?
It's like a fucking movie. If it is nowhere exotic, and just a night in a shitty hostel in the Midlands I'd be happy. Even if the plane gets cancelled and we end up in bed for the weekend I love that he planned this for me.
I love surprises. I love travelling. I love the glamour of being whisked away, especially if it's no where in particular. It's like the best present anyone has ever given me.
And now I'll stop, because I'm even making myself a little nautious with all the enthusiasm.
26 January 2009
Wii lovin gone wrong.
So, it's been a hard year. I've been harping on about it; first how hard it would be, then how hard it is, then (shockingly) how hard it was and continues to have a black-ish cloud over the crawling out of the hardness-type experience.
I didn't really need any evidence of this, but my shiny new Wii Fit thought otherwise.
Last summer, playing at a friends house, I was squite surprisinngly of average weight and right on target for my age (possibly the first time this has been true since middle school). In 6 months I am now more than overweight and the lovely little board cartoon friends of my reckon I've aged about 12 years. It's disgusting.
Now I'm not going to put huge stock into the opinions of a pixelated piggy bank & co, but still. It's a sad day when even your virtual friends think you need to start getting back your life.
I didn't really need any evidence of this, but my shiny new Wii Fit thought otherwise.
Last summer, playing at a friends house, I was squite surprisinngly of average weight and right on target for my age (possibly the first time this has been true since middle school). In 6 months I am now more than overweight and the lovely little board cartoon friends of my reckon I've aged about 12 years. It's disgusting.
Now I'm not going to put huge stock into the opinions of a pixelated piggy bank & co, but still. It's a sad day when even your virtual friends think you need to start getting back your life.
18 January 2009
philosophical conundrum
what if you are loved. loved deeply, honestly and whole-heartedly.
but it's not how you always wanted to be loved?
love is so many things to so many people, can you still be in love and not match? can you defy your expectations? Can you grow with your lover to something akin to your dreams? Is being loved enough? Or is it selfish to expect a specific manifestation of that love?
this is a saturday night couch philosopher one for the ages. i am full of huberis and ennui apparently and just asking for trouble.
but it's not how you always wanted to be loved?
love is so many things to so many people, can you still be in love and not match? can you defy your expectations? Can you grow with your lover to something akin to your dreams? Is being loved enough? Or is it selfish to expect a specific manifestation of that love?
this is a saturday night couch philosopher one for the ages. i am full of huberis and ennui apparently and just asking for trouble.
16 January 2009
okay
for the first time in a long time I feel satisfied.
a tiny little piece of me is worried I'll lose sight of the bigger ennui, but i am just so happy to be alive. to be me. to be living this life. it's like falling in love all over again.
here are good things that happened this week:
- i went out with my friends. for the first time in I dont know how long. And yes, most of my friends are kids lit people - because we all live the job - but it was just so good to suck long islands and relax. I forgot what it was like to unwind after work instead of rushing home to put on the dinner.
- i watched enchanted. (we bought it with our christmas money.) not only do I love the ceaseless, unabashed joy of ironic disney - but the fact Liam loves it as much as I do is like some secret miracle. who could have guessed?
- i was interviewed at parliament by a bunch of seventh graders for their local radio station. it was amazing. they were so professional, but also so young and hopeful and although it was weird to be seen as that important, it also felt great to be involved and engaged and matter.
- i ate 5 fruit and veg every day. it helps more than you would think.
- i bought my plane ticket. i am going to visit my parents. just for a time-out. no hooplah, just naps. i cannot wait - even though i feel a bit guilty leaving liam here since he can't take time off to come too. (i think most of the guilt is because i am relieved i don't need ot look after him in the weirdness of Okemos, I can just let go and be looked after myself)
- i started a book group. it may come to nothing, but i like having things to look forward to. and my sister is the only person I know who loves reading like I do. it's one of the few emotions I captured well back on d-x I still miss it a little when I think of those entries.
- i bought a shitty, cheap chandelier- and when I say chandelier I mean dangly plastic-crystal in twirly spirals light bulb cover - for the front hall. it cheers me up no end.
- i worked my ass off. not because i should have or I had deadlines. but I had work I wanted to do, so I worked 10, 11 hour days to do it. And when I was done, I left. It feels purposeful to choose. And also, to fight now to make room for my vacation home means I am working to my timeline, my world - instead of the other way around - and it is so liberating.
so yeah, it's not so bad.
a tiny little piece of me is worried I'll lose sight of the bigger ennui, but i am just so happy to be alive. to be me. to be living this life. it's like falling in love all over again.
here are good things that happened this week:
- i went out with my friends. for the first time in I dont know how long. And yes, most of my friends are kids lit people - because we all live the job - but it was just so good to suck long islands and relax. I forgot what it was like to unwind after work instead of rushing home to put on the dinner.
- i watched enchanted. (we bought it with our christmas money.) not only do I love the ceaseless, unabashed joy of ironic disney - but the fact Liam loves it as much as I do is like some secret miracle. who could have guessed?
- i was interviewed at parliament by a bunch of seventh graders for their local radio station. it was amazing. they were so professional, but also so young and hopeful and although it was weird to be seen as that important, it also felt great to be involved and engaged and matter.
- i ate 5 fruit and veg every day. it helps more than you would think.
- i bought my plane ticket. i am going to visit my parents. just for a time-out. no hooplah, just naps. i cannot wait - even though i feel a bit guilty leaving liam here since he can't take time off to come too. (i think most of the guilt is because i am relieved i don't need ot look after him in the weirdness of Okemos, I can just let go and be looked after myself)
- i started a book group. it may come to nothing, but i like having things to look forward to. and my sister is the only person I know who loves reading like I do. it's one of the few emotions I captured well back on d-x I still miss it a little when I think of those entries.
- i bought a shitty, cheap chandelier- and when I say chandelier I mean dangly plastic-crystal in twirly spirals light bulb cover - for the front hall. it cheers me up no end.
- i worked my ass off. not because i should have or I had deadlines. but I had work I wanted to do, so I worked 10, 11 hour days to do it. And when I was done, I left. It feels purposeful to choose. And also, to fight now to make room for my vacation home means I am working to my timeline, my world - instead of the other way around - and it is so liberating.
so yeah, it's not so bad.
09 January 2009
04 January 2009
my year
I have been wanting to make a retrospective. To put into writing all the things that have happened, because I didn't record them as they happened, and I don't want to lose them in my somewhat unpredictable memory (I remember and can name every kid from my kindergarden class, but I have no clue what I did last Thursday. It's a crazy vortex.)
But, regardless, I am going to try:
January
The year started out hard. I was so homesick. So tired. So scared. Not unlike most light deprived winter doldrums, but somehow more depressing in their monotony over the years. Plus, I was really worried about my sister, jealous of my siblings high life in the sun together and starting to really hate my job.
highlight: I honestly don't remember one.
lowlight: the mindbending numbness
February
I never hate February as much as everyone else, because i have a birthday to look forward to and it's so short I make it feel hopeful, racing towards spring.
This year was no different, and the sadness lifted a little because it was a month full of family. My mom came to visit for a week, and then we went to Kent to meet all of Liam's gang for the first time. I was sorry I spent so much time fighting with my mom and being so angry, but I think we both said things we meant and it's helped us in the long run.
highlight: playing on the beach with my mom is probably tied with Liam taking me to the movies for a surprise valentines.
lowlight: being ridiculously scared of Liam's sister at first (she's a fashion designer who looks like gwenyth paltrow. you try not being intimidated of her)
March
I don't remember March. It's always hard writing the programme and keeping shit together at work this time of year, and the cold wet spring didn't do much to help.
I re-read my unremarkable March entries in case I was forgetting something, but other than a friend getting engaged, there wasn't much of consequence going on.
highlight: n/a
lowlight: all of it?
April
I spent April being somewhere else. I took up hobbies briefly, I made lunch dates, we went on field trips. I tried to jump start my life with activity to make it feel real again. Some helped, some didn't. Being in Italy for work still felt glamorous, but also mindbendingly lonely. And hiking trips in the country over Easter were awesome, which I hope we get around to reintegrating into our lives again soon.
highlight: picnicking in the hills on Easter - though feeding breadcrumbs to the robin perched in our arbor had a panic stricken moment when we thought it might choke on our errant dorito fleck. God forbid, we all know that triangular wedged in the neck sensation is a bitch.
lowlight: the tired.
May
I was angry. Sick, tired and angry. I'd lost the will to fight the doctors anymore, I'd lost any interest in sex or food. I was wasting away. I kept fighting, and it did subside, but I still feel like it's lurking in there, like a dormant virus.
Of course, there were also beautiful things. Liam was so wonderful. I spent much of my time distracting myself with fun excursions, cute animals and good tv. Which all make for happy membories, if not miracle cures.
highlight: trying anyway
lowlight: hating everything, and losing faith in the medical profession
June
June always felt like the beginning of the end. For the last year, this was the beginning of the gauntlet season. One we knew would test our sanity with social engagements, and absolutely ensure we went broke. It was going to be fun, but it was also a form of hell.
highlight: getting good press and feeling like I'd arrived
lowlight: waiting for the storm, and realising I would had to leave Edinburgh for good soon.
July
It started with the Queen, and ended with my Festival eminent. It included the opening days of the campaign, and also some unexpected moments I still cherish.
highlight: our Dalmeny beach carpe diem on what turned out to be the one hot day of the year
lowlight: the grueling schedule
August
If anything happened in August that wasn't the Festival, I'm not sure I would even have noticed much less taken part. It's odd that 18 days can take up a whole month, but I suppose when I clocked over 200 hours in those two weeks, it gives some perspective. Liams mom also came to visit and I had to fire some poor, stupid college kid.
highlight: actually spending time with kids who are passionate (even when they hate my choices), and feeling revitalised and full of purpose.
lowlight: the rain. the constant, sad rain
September
A blur of tired and high emotions. A complete mind boggling roller coaster that I'll probably discuss with my therapist in my midlife crisis.
highlight: Kate & Jimmy
lowlight: having to keep going
October
By now, I just wanted to stop the world and get off. I was running on empty, blind, and getting angrier by the day.
London was a blast, the 3rd wedding was beautiful, but my heart wasn't in it anymore and I was bereft.
highlight: dancing alone, free and wild, to irish fiddle music at Leeds Castle
lowlight: giving up
November
Starting out on a sunny weekend in Chicago with people I love was awesome. Spending 2 weeks in Australia was like a dream come true. But by now, I was so tired and empty it felt hollow and I was too resentful of nothing in particular to give it my all, something I'll probably come to regret, even if I didn't have a choice.
highlight: there were so many. right now, probably hanging out on Navy Pier with jennie and my folks
lowlight: never being home.
December
Oh, and did I mention through all of this we were moving? we signed the paperwork 1 december. Weeks of packing and mess made for a hell of a start.
But mostly this was the month of fighting. every day, all the time. The stress of it all, the unending work demands, the resentment at my absence and my hatred of the confounding pressures. All the time, over everything we were tearing each other apart, both I think just waiting for what had promised to be the most delightful, celebratory period was now just a pile of reasons we were poor, tired, crabby and felt alone. It was truly aweful.
We're getting there now. It's been hard what with Liam trying to find work, me going off the pill (mt hormones are more wacked out than they were in middle school), Christmas, moving, family and all the resentment that's invisibly built up while we were trying to get on with things over the summer and fall.
But we've arrived now. It's the beginning of a new life - and we're making plans. Together. And that's what matters.
I think the moral of the story is I shouldn't be a rock star. I don't care how much I love travelling, how capable of playing the world I am or how much I enjoy running the circuit and media circus - I want time off. I want to be close to my family. And I have a god given right to nap. And these are worth more than any amount of full page newspaper articles and first class train tickets. I want more than that. For the first time in my life I don't want to be my job. And I sure as hell am not taking any more work trips or letting anyone get married until we have a good proper break to get our own life back in order first. Things have gone to hell in a handbasket and its high time I started building my world again instead of letting it crumble around me.
Happy New Year.
But, regardless, I am going to try:
January
The year started out hard. I was so homesick. So tired. So scared. Not unlike most light deprived winter doldrums, but somehow more depressing in their monotony over the years. Plus, I was really worried about my sister, jealous of my siblings high life in the sun together and starting to really hate my job.
highlight: I honestly don't remember one.
lowlight: the mindbending numbness
February
I never hate February as much as everyone else, because i have a birthday to look forward to and it's so short I make it feel hopeful, racing towards spring.
This year was no different, and the sadness lifted a little because it was a month full of family. My mom came to visit for a week, and then we went to Kent to meet all of Liam's gang for the first time. I was sorry I spent so much time fighting with my mom and being so angry, but I think we both said things we meant and it's helped us in the long run.
highlight: playing on the beach with my mom is probably tied with Liam taking me to the movies for a surprise valentines.
lowlight: being ridiculously scared of Liam's sister at first (she's a fashion designer who looks like gwenyth paltrow. you try not being intimidated of her)
March
I don't remember March. It's always hard writing the programme and keeping shit together at work this time of year, and the cold wet spring didn't do much to help.
I re-read my unremarkable March entries in case I was forgetting something, but other than a friend getting engaged, there wasn't much of consequence going on.
highlight: n/a
lowlight: all of it?
April
I spent April being somewhere else. I took up hobbies briefly, I made lunch dates, we went on field trips. I tried to jump start my life with activity to make it feel real again. Some helped, some didn't. Being in Italy for work still felt glamorous, but also mindbendingly lonely. And hiking trips in the country over Easter were awesome, which I hope we get around to reintegrating into our lives again soon.
highlight: picnicking in the hills on Easter - though feeding breadcrumbs to the robin perched in our arbor had a panic stricken moment when we thought it might choke on our errant dorito fleck. God forbid, we all know that triangular wedged in the neck sensation is a bitch.
lowlight: the tired.
May
I was angry. Sick, tired and angry. I'd lost the will to fight the doctors anymore, I'd lost any interest in sex or food. I was wasting away. I kept fighting, and it did subside, but I still feel like it's lurking in there, like a dormant virus.
Of course, there were also beautiful things. Liam was so wonderful. I spent much of my time distracting myself with fun excursions, cute animals and good tv. Which all make for happy membories, if not miracle cures.
highlight: trying anyway
lowlight: hating everything, and losing faith in the medical profession
June
June always felt like the beginning of the end. For the last year, this was the beginning of the gauntlet season. One we knew would test our sanity with social engagements, and absolutely ensure we went broke. It was going to be fun, but it was also a form of hell.
highlight: getting good press and feeling like I'd arrived
lowlight: waiting for the storm, and realising I would had to leave Edinburgh for good soon.
July
It started with the Queen, and ended with my Festival eminent. It included the opening days of the campaign, and also some unexpected moments I still cherish.
highlight: our Dalmeny beach carpe diem on what turned out to be the one hot day of the year
lowlight: the grueling schedule
August
If anything happened in August that wasn't the Festival, I'm not sure I would even have noticed much less taken part. It's odd that 18 days can take up a whole month, but I suppose when I clocked over 200 hours in those two weeks, it gives some perspective. Liams mom also came to visit and I had to fire some poor, stupid college kid.
highlight: actually spending time with kids who are passionate (even when they hate my choices), and feeling revitalised and full of purpose.
lowlight: the rain. the constant, sad rain
September
A blur of tired and high emotions. A complete mind boggling roller coaster that I'll probably discuss with my therapist in my midlife crisis.
highlight: Kate & Jimmy
lowlight: having to keep going
October
By now, I just wanted to stop the world and get off. I was running on empty, blind, and getting angrier by the day.
London was a blast, the 3rd wedding was beautiful, but my heart wasn't in it anymore and I was bereft.
highlight: dancing alone, free and wild, to irish fiddle music at Leeds Castle
lowlight: giving up
November
Starting out on a sunny weekend in Chicago with people I love was awesome. Spending 2 weeks in Australia was like a dream come true. But by now, I was so tired and empty it felt hollow and I was too resentful of nothing in particular to give it my all, something I'll probably come to regret, even if I didn't have a choice.
highlight: there were so many. right now, probably hanging out on Navy Pier with jennie and my folks
lowlight: never being home.
December
Oh, and did I mention through all of this we were moving? we signed the paperwork 1 december. Weeks of packing and mess made for a hell of a start.
But mostly this was the month of fighting. every day, all the time. The stress of it all, the unending work demands, the resentment at my absence and my hatred of the confounding pressures. All the time, over everything we were tearing each other apart, both I think just waiting for what had promised to be the most delightful, celebratory period was now just a pile of reasons we were poor, tired, crabby and felt alone. It was truly aweful.
We're getting there now. It's been hard what with Liam trying to find work, me going off the pill (mt hormones are more wacked out than they were in middle school), Christmas, moving, family and all the resentment that's invisibly built up while we were trying to get on with things over the summer and fall.
But we've arrived now. It's the beginning of a new life - and we're making plans. Together. And that's what matters.
I think the moral of the story is I shouldn't be a rock star. I don't care how much I love travelling, how capable of playing the world I am or how much I enjoy running the circuit and media circus - I want time off. I want to be close to my family. And I have a god given right to nap. And these are worth more than any amount of full page newspaper articles and first class train tickets. I want more than that. For the first time in my life I don't want to be my job. And I sure as hell am not taking any more work trips or letting anyone get married until we have a good proper break to get our own life back in order first. Things have gone to hell in a handbasket and its high time I started building my world again instead of letting it crumble around me.
Happy New Year.
01 January 2009
now
last night, in the climax of our fight about everything and nothing, I said
"I want to celebrate. To cherish the good in this world. To be happy, just for a minute. To remember how lucky we are and be hopeful. To feel wonder. To be a part of something bigger"
And as soon as I said it, I knew I didn't mean new years or fireworks or champagne. I meant life.
Funny how one minute makes everything shiny again.
"I want to celebrate. To cherish the good in this world. To be happy, just for a minute. To remember how lucky we are and be hopeful. To feel wonder. To be a part of something bigger"
And as soon as I said it, I knew I didn't mean new years or fireworks or champagne. I meant life.
Funny how one minute makes everything shiny again.
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