Tainted by Possibility

Thirty Things

2011-07-20T11:11:00.000Z

Some landmark, previously obscured by hazy expectation, is drawing near. So for lots of reasons that seem different than the cliches (but probably aren't) I want to mark this moment - because now is as good a time as any to start the rest of my life.

The Full and Complete List

One
Visit one city I have never been to before

Two
Be by the sea. A lot
(once so far)

Three
Take three friends out to lunch

Four
Join a group I'm passionate about

Five
Walk five miles of country road

Six
Make six beautiful things

Seven
Go seven days completely unplugged and off the grid (in your own house)

Eight
Compliment eight strangers

Nine
Hold a baby

Ten
Do ten cartwheels

Eleven
Read eleven books I've always been curious about

Twelve
Send postcards to twelve people

Thirteen
Grow a wildflower garden

Fourteen
Eat off of pretty things as often as possible (buying cheap mismatched china to make this happen is allowed)

Fifteen
Write a really good short story

Sixteen
Barbecue and picnic sixteen times this summer
(5 down...)

Seventeen
Paint the house a color you love

Eighteen
Bite the bullet, and do that super secret project you are embarrassed to admit

Nineteen
Build a bonfire

Twenty
Learn to make twenty new recipes
(three down, addendum: Beer Butt Chicken was a spectacular start)

Twenty One
Learn to sail

Twenty Two
Play on a swing set and remember how awesome it is

Twenty Three
Sing in public, just once, and see how it goes

Twenty Four
Create twenty four sweets and send them to someone you love

Twenty Five
Wave at twenty five people riding by on the bus

Twenty Six
Get rid of twenty six articles of clothing

Twenty Seven
Go on a road trip

Twenty Eight
Go twenty eight days without sugar or bread of any sort

Twenty Nine
Learn twenty nine words in another language

Thirty
Have a midnight Carpe Diem, just for you

2011-07-14T15:36:00.001Z

I do have news, life is in the fast lane these days, but I am about to make a paella so I don't have time to write it all down.

In the meantime, I give you my back of the cupboard world class BBQ marinade . The perfect change of pace now summer's hit it's peak.

Thirty on my mind

2011-06-27T12:53:00.003Z

For about a year, the prospect of 30 has drifted in and out of my consciousness.

Some landmark, previously obscured by hazy expectation, is drawing near.

I mostly don't mind at all - or rather I don't mind in the way that seems expected. The way it works on tv.

I am not worried about aging (I like my gray hairs). I am not sorry my 20s are ending. I am not terrified of the commitments and seriousness of life ahead. I am not racing a clock, bodily or metaphorical.

I do mind that I am slow to seize the new me. That my vision for the future (it is truly beautiful) is taking shape and I want to grab it right now -- not wait for money or sense or reason. I do mind that regret and resentment still hold me back sometimes, but I am working on that.

So, for lots of reasons that seem different than the cliches (but probably aren't), I want to mark this moment.

I want now to be a time I can look back on and remember. To see the change. To know the bravery and hope that filled my life in this turning point.

Serendipitous then, that I got an email alert from Joy the Baker today. It is fab. I love her (mostly because she reminds me of my sister).

Lovely Joy is also in the thirty-something transition. And she made a list : 30 Things Before 30 Years.

It's a lovely list (and reassuring she hasn't quite got it done yet and it's become a 30 Things in 30 Years list)

So I thought it was time I came up with my own.

I'm not sure I need to stick to the numbers, I don't need a gimmick here. And I'm not entirely sure it'll be things that need to happen in the next six months - but now is as good a time as any to start the rest of my life.

One
Visit one city I have never been to before

Two
Live by the sea

Three
Take three friends out to lunch

Four
Join a group I'm passionate about

Five
Walk five miles of country road

Six
Make six beautiful things

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten
Do ten cartwheels

Eleven
Read eleven books I've always been curious about

Twelve
Send postcards to twelve people

Thirteen
Grow a wildflower garden

Fourteen
Eat off of pretty things as often as possible (buying cheap mismatched china to make this happen is allowed)

Fifteen

Sixteen
Barbecue and picnic sixteen times this summer

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty
Learn to make twenty new recipes

Twenty One
Learn to sail

Twenty Two

Twenty Three

Twenty Four
Create 24 sweets and send them to someone you love

Twenty Five
Wave at 25 people riding by on the bus

Twenty Six
Get rid of twenty six articles of clothing

Twenty Seven

Twenty Eight

Twenty Nine
Learn twenty nine words in another language.

Thirty

Hm. Am running the risk of putting in impulsive nothings to fill the list just for the sake of it. Will sleep on it a bit I think and add to it as and when.

Any suggestions people?

2011-06-10T13:55:00.001Z

I have finally sorted out my LinkedIn. and after a morning staring blindly at tick boxes my eyes are swimming.

I so don't miss having a desk job.

2011-06-07T16:03:00.003Z

I may or may not have made a giant skillet cookie today.

I may or may not have done any measuring whatsoever, resulting in a giant lump of goo.

I may or may not have undercooked it so it stayed that way.

I may or may not have eaten the entire thing while contemplating nothing and reading trash.

but if I had, it would have been worth it.

2011-06-01T08:13:00.003Z

So, that story I was writing?

It's going to be published in this book.

Hideous, but awesome.

2011-05-31T20:44:00.002Z

today I told Liam my deepest, darkest secret. the one that haunts me almost everyday.

and everything feels different now.

2011-05-25T13:28:00.002Z

My friends are turning 30.

And having babies.

My feelings on these points can waiver. But they are ever present. Like a storm brewing on the horizon. An awesome, amazing, thundering storm which shivers the spine and brews cackling, ecstatic howls in my throat.

2011-05-21T14:54:00.002Z

I'm having such a funny time of it.

Drifting, fluffy, hazy times. Oddly discontented and vivdly stressful dreams.

And yet it's no longer an annoyance. A hinderance to my days.

It feels like a call to arms. It's time I got on with things. I feel suffocated, trapped. At odds with myself. Why don't I bloddy well get on with doing the things I want to be doing? There is no point in waiting.

So, bit by bit my life comes together at last.

I spent yesterday writing an article. about science. it was terrifying. and just right.

Right now I'm trying to figure out how to upload ebooks for a job. The problem is, I want them to be free, so the licensed aggregators who take a cut to get you in iBooks and Kindles really aren't going to work. suggestions welcome.

open road

2011-05-06T20:21:00.000Z

When I am stressed, I dream of endless airports and crowded tube stops and stressful dead empty spaces. In many ways, quite literally, they are my worst nightmare.

And lately, more than ever, I need open road. Clean, fresh air. Empty sky and plenty of roam to roar and run.

Which I guess is why I've been hankering for a car.

We don't have one, and to be honest, in this town it's unnecessary expense and hassle - much as I'd like to pop to the country for a Sunday drive every now and again.

But now the urge is almost impossible to ignore. It keeps me up at night. I need to get out, I need to get out, I need to get out...

So, to pass the time I've been daydreaming about the car I will someday have. The one that will take me out into wild expanses and help me feel free.

Most days I am up for a bit of Grace Kelly glamour and antiquated sophistication and am almost settled on what is quite possibly the world's cutest car, the Nissan Figaro, which incidentally should only ever come in that retro hospital green with a white soft top. In case you were wondering.

Though, in my searching, I must admit there are many times I'd be seduced by the bad-boy-made-good charms of this humdinger, the Fiat Spider .

So much love. So little cash.

Someday little beans, someday I will wear a headscarf and drive you til your wheels bleed.

2011-05-06T18:34:00.002Z

also, remind me to tell you about the time I made bread with cornmeal and apple cider to go with the best curried lentil soup you will ever eat.

It was one of my finest kitchen moments of all time. hands down.

the mother of invention

2011-05-04T21:07:00.003Z

sometimes I get these cravings. To hear a certain song, to lay in the grass. Usually they are about food, but I'm trying to make it sound like they are normal, healthy urges.

Well, tonight I needed sweet. And not candy or fruit, but baked good. Gooey, squishy, melty goodness. And it needed chocolate.

But my cupboards are bare. Like seriously. The fridge has half a head of broccoli and about a thousand condiments and an old cheese my uncle brought over from Ireland (don't ask). It is sketchtown.

So, I needed all my kitchen skill to work this magic. And boy, have my years of experimenting paid off. At last, I have a useful talent!

I literally took a skillet, lobbed in the dregs of a jar of peanut butter to melt on low, mixed in the crumbly ends of the brown sugar and waited for it to melt too.

Then added a dash of milk (trying to save enough for tomorrow's cereal) and the last squeeze of vanilla, plus a couple of fistfuls of flour, a big shake of baking soda and a pinch of salt.

Mixed it together on the stovetop until it was like wet cookie dough, then put it in the oven for 10 minutes to crisp.

Tasted the fork I'd used for stirring (the kitchen utensils are all dirty, so sue me) and realised it wasn't sweet enough, just tasted like dough - so while it baked, I made impromptu icing.

Scrapped the remaining butter wads of the paper wrapper, melted it in the microwave, added some cocoa powder, the last of the milk (guess tomorrow is stale toast now) and some icing sugar which has been lurking in the back of the cupboard since my mother bought it Chrismas 2009

... and voila! Creamy peanutbutter blondie with chocolate drizzle sauce, to be eaten hot, straight from the pan. honestly, I'd offer you some but it's gone already. Just too perfect.

I am a god of small things. well, the sorts of things that come with utensils anyway. I'm still working on the rest.

today

2011-04-22T14:15:00.003Z

Life is very flexible lately. Having no schedule means I often feel listless, but it also means I'm slowing running out of random distractions and getting on with changing my life.

Of course, the important thing I always avoid noticing too forcefully, is that in relaxing my routine and seizing my new interests, my everyday is becoming my new life quite organically. Honestly, it couldn't be better.

Having thought about this a bit, I'm going to record today, so I can remember this freedom isn't at the expense of effectiveness.

7am alarm goes off. snooze.

8am rouse to chat with Liam over breakfast before he leaves, then watch the mist
gathering out the window

8:40am roll out of bed, make a pot of tea and sit in the bay window overlooking the garden and write in my journal

9:20am stretch. eventually stop even trying to contain the cat-like noises my body seems set on emitting

10am dither over breakfast. decide to make (read: make-up) honeyed soda bread.

10:15 pop it in the oven, and tidy the hurricane of a front hall while it bakes. this mostly consists of sorting out the bookcases and filing away the piles of receipts and mail. it feels very Mary Poppinsish. bonus: find some old cards and letters and re-read them, feeling all fuzzy inside

10:50 - butter the toasty warm bread and feast

11:00 spelunk in the dvd bookcases and start sorting out those we still havent watched (MadMen, Persepolis), those that should come when we move (Persuasion, Edward Scissorhands) and those I'm probably done with (Signs, Team America). make a mental note to talk to Liam about his opinions on the subject.

11:30 personal emails and dither on twitter

12:15 finally take a shower and get dressed

13:00 chat to Liam on his lunch break briefly while concoct lunch. Today, thai sweet chili noodles and edmame.

13:30 proceed with an afternoon of weird tv (The Beauty of Diagrams & When the Moors Ruled Europe so far) and work (research, emails, proofing some work I've commissioned)

And now, the haar has rolled off, the sun is shining and I think it's time for a long walk, possibly a cuppa and then the commencement of the holiday weekend!

delayed

2011-04-19T11:51:00.002Z

I thought working from home would leave me all this time. I was wrong.

I will write soon, and there is much to tell, but it is just too sunny to stay inside and our wifi doesn't reach the garden. so it'll have to wait. you poor poor people.

culinary creativity

2011-03-22T19:02:00.004Z

So I am not one to brag, but I am getting seriously good at this cooking thing. Well, on occasion.

I still have my fair share of mishaps and mangled recipes - say the first time I tried to bake a potato. in the microwave. without forking holes in it. or the curdled alfredo. or any number of honest mistakes.

but now it's ten years on (really, I didn't cook anything but ramen noodles and the occasional frozen dinner until my sopohmore year of college, and even then it mostly pasta bake and toast piles until I moved to Eden-burgh).

Now, at last, I feel confident in the kitchen. I know my spice rack. I can feel combinations in my throat and nose before anything hits the pan, and I've had some corking successes. Turns out, once you've got the basics in you brain, and the more I let myself invent and ad lib, the better things are turning out.

So first: my weekend decadence: Chocolate Peanut Butter Cookies.

I won't put it in the Gastronomic hall of fame, as I didn't really do anything more than find something outstanding - but I certainly count good research and experimentation as a skill.

So Joy the Baker posted Alton Brown's best batch ages ago. While I didn't bother to melt the butter, using bread flour was inspired (but non-essential) and Joy's great cookie debate got me thinking about cookie chemistry - namely, why didn't I beat and fluff my dough in a mixer they way I would cake batter for light, fluffy perfection?

Also, her pointer on chilling the dough first was very clever. I always do for cut-outs so it's roll- able, but for drop cookies, the chilling helps them stay in shape and stand tall in that first blast of oven heat.

So anyway, essentially, I took this recipe - creamed soften butter with sugar to start, followed the directions (and used a mixer) until the flour - which eventually got too stiff for my shitty $10 bought-it-on-amazon handheld and most importantly, WAY undercooked them.

The best bit though, was adding 1/4c Hershey's cocoa powder, an extra dash of milk to cover the extra dry, and added peanut butter chips instead of chocolate.

My they were heavenly. Seriously. Like amazing.

Especially if you only bake them for ten minutes, and then bring the hot tray to sit in front of the tv (on an ovenmit) so they can finish baking gently, stay gooey and be the perfect mix of mushy melty love while you watch crappy documentaries about China.

-----------

I won't go into such a narrative about my lunch today, but it was stellar. Turning that weird midday "oh what shall I eat" cupboard rummage into something majestic yet simple. Perfect for one.

I will put it here for your delectation.

the touchscreen terror

2011-03-21T15:22:00.003Z

So I have been struggling with the touchpad for a long time.

Whatever the iVention or increasingly, every other bandwagon-hopping technofirm's market-share-grabber, I just cannot abide touch screens.

Having been relatively tech savvy in my day I have been dismayed at this. Have I finally become a crochety old person? Have the youngun's passed me by with this new fangled development? Am I too old to learn? Is early adopter no longer in my vocabulary? It keeps me up nights.

I kept trying them, thinking maybe it was just teething issues. Thinking, hoping maybe you just had to grow into it.

But last week I cracked it. Well, Colin did really, but he had no idea his nonchalant observation would open the can of worms it did.

You see, as I tried to type on his iPad (with easel!), I was explaining that it was just untenable. Every single keystroke was wrong.

And then, in his nerdtastic way he said "oh, you touch type"

Which isn't really news, rare though it may be. I went to Catholic School. I had typing tests every week. There was a cloth over my hands when at the computer, and a nun behind me with a ready ruler, so I had to type without looking.

(Okay, the nun bit is a lie, but the cloth hand-fold isn't)

And back in 1989, that was a pretty big thing. That I'd grown up at a keyboard. That I knew what all the keys did. I was pretty proud of my fast little fingers (and certainly thankful of their speed when I had to transcribe interviews in college).

But now, oh now, it has let me down.

Now I am a dinosaur. No one can touch type these days (I can just hear the rachety granny voice now...). It's not a skill anyone cares about.

Most people still laze about with one index finger plucking away, no matter how many years they spend in front of the screen.

And the world of technology has cottoned on. Because people who look where their fingers are going don't care where the keys are. How far apart they are. How tall they are. If the size is changed a bit. If the rows are squashed to fit the netbook screen size. If there is no tactile difference to distinguish between the letters.

But my fingers, they learned a shape. They learned a ratio of movement. One that is consistent and useful, only so long as keyboards are a standard size.

And now, all these squishy, moving type boxes mean where I say H is could be a J or a G or even (gasp) an N.

No wonder I hate these fancy pants screens. They make me seem stupid for being the only person in the world who bothered to do it right in the first place. And now, they reward the lazy fuckers who never bothered. (it's official. I am old.)

But that's capitalism for you. Damn Apple.

2011-03-18T12:12:00.002Z

I am working on a short story.

The first in over a decade.

Now it comes close to finishing, I am terrified. my heart is racing.

Someone tell me it's okay. Remind me it's about the story, not the rejection I feel is inevitable.

food III

2011-03-10T09:38:00.005Z

my week of eating continues...

Sunday continued
(I caved and had another cupcake that night)

Monday
huge bowl of granola (plain)
apple cinnamon tea

wild garlic leaf*

turkey sandwich: 3 slices of turkey, a bit of marg and henderson's organic sesame loaf
honey roasted cashews (handful)

apple cinnamon tea
a slice of that bread, with nutella on

2 stuffed peppers

two more slices of nutella bread (I couldn't resist)

Tuesday
chicken nuggets (5)
camomile tea

a handful of granola
smoothie

1 c whole wheat penne
1/2 courgette (zucchini)
1/2 bell pepper
roasted with a bit of mozzerella

couscous bake

3 chocolate chip pancakes (for Shrove Tuesday)

Wednesday
2 scrambled eggs, slice of granary toast
peppermint tea

last stuffed pepper
griddle quesadilla

2 tacos (hard shell, soya mince, cheddar, old el paso sauce)
green beas
sweet corn

the last lonely lump of granola

Thursday

honey & walnut bread
smoothie

I'll stop here (though I am planning on lentil and bacon soup tonight, possibly with cornbread). That's pretty much a week. and I could say oh I was on my period. Or I have been really depressed about work.

But the fact of the matter is I eat sweets every day. I do. It's a hell of a habit.

I suppose I don't have caffeine or fast food - so all in all, it could be a much worse vice. And possibly I could find better ways of getting my protein in the morning than chicken nuggets, but they are convenient and require no work, so for now I suppose I'm willing to live with the fact that I eat ready made meat products every couple of days.

So there you go. How completely unremarkable, but still I enjoyed it.

*ps - eating a wild garlic leaf may sound crazy, but was very tasty. I was so surprised there was a hillside full of it this early in the year (and beneath Roslin Castle on my hike no less), I picked a juicy one and nibbled it as I walked the banks of the River Esk. I know. It sounds pretend. But it was a beautiful day - and fresh, sharp treats foraged by my own wildman skills made it extra good.

food II

2011-03-06T18:15:00.002Z

deary me, have fallen off the bandwagon already.

Food Week, the next installment:

Saturday
homemade granola (should definitely give you that recipe, my god do I love it)
smoothie (this time boysenberry!)

panko breaded chicken breast with basil salad con sundried tomato relish
elderflower fizz (aka apple juice, tonic and elderflower cordial. sounds snazzy.
sadly, it tasted like canned peach juice)
(also a bite of Liam's tiger prawn linguine)
in case you can't tell, Liam took me out to lunch

peppermint tea

veg stew

Sunday
chicken nuggets (5)
smoothie

picnic lunch
3 herby oatcakes
4 poppy seed crackers
lump of parmesan
3 sun dried tomatoes
granola (handful)
juice box (apple)

2 pork & bramley apple sausages (in buns)
peas
sweet corn

2011-03-06T18:12:00.001Z

day at the beach today. fucking freezing, but still very sweet of him to take my bloated pms'y self to the shore for a breather from town and a picnic.

food

2011-03-03T17:32:00.005Z

we all know I love food. a lot. in many, many different ways.

so it's no surprise houseguests bring on a bout of change and something a little special. but it was shocking how much crap jennie and I ate last week. more sugar than i imagine either of us have had in years. and goodness did I feel it.

so, now it's time to clear out, clean up and get back on schedule.

it's funny, but until I started eating The Old Way (late night pizza, munching on ready made treats, tons of sugar) I didn't realise quite how far I'd drifted from it.

So, as an experiment, I am going to write down everything I eat for the next week. I have no idea if it'll be The Old Way, or what I suppose is The New Way, but based on the feedback our guts were giving (which was audible) I think I'll know it when I eat it.

Wednesday
chicken nuggets (5)
apple cinnamon tea

wild rice with broccoli, tomatoes, peas & bells peppers
juice box (apple)

smoothie (blackberry & cherry)

cornbread roll with lots of honey (homemade)

gnocchi with sage butter
green beans (steamed)

chocolate cupcake (half, no icing)

Thursday
cornbread roll w a tiny bit of honey
smoothie
rosebud & camomile tea

chocolate cupcake (the other half)

juice box (apple)
herby oatcakes (5)

(only now it's written down do I see what an odd list this is going to become...)

broccoli, pepper, tofu & edamame stir fry with egg noodles

a slice of raspberry victoria sponge

Friday
chicken nuggets (5)
smoothie

camomile tea

half a pink grapefruit with a bit of sugar
corn bread roll

savoury cashew & pumpkin seed mix (handful)
juice box (apple)

1 bite of the aforementioned cake.

the chick pea curry I invented tonight
with a garlic & coriander naan

2011-02-23T19:12:00.001Z

I bought myself flowers for my birthday.

Big, fluffy yellow and orange mums and daisies.

I can see them peeking out of the living room window when I'm walking home.

They make me so happy.

a lance for hire

2011-02-15T18:01:00.002Z

So going freelance seems easy - and the work is, but all the other stuff is quite a truckload of crapola.

If I am my own company, I am the marketer, designer, accountant, bookkeeper - and perhaps most importantly, tax payer. Things normal offices have staff for. Things that take up a lot of time and effort sorting out (until I make enough to justify getting fancy accountancy webernet stuffs, an exhorbitant expense for where I am at right now).

So all of a sudden I am spending my evenings formatting invoices and logging my hours and creating spreadsheets for my expenses.

I need a filing system. And a paper bag. stat.

promises

2011-02-12T23:06:00.004Z

Remember how last year we had to go get ourselves a pseudo-marriage-visa?

It was kind of a big thing.

While we will get married (and we discuss it at length, now it may be one of our only narrow windows to get him into the States), it's not yet. We can't afford it for a start.

BUT, the promise we did make still matters. a lot. (even if we refer to it as pre-engaged. though, I am no Egg. And he is no George Michael)

We wondered how to mark this moment. To trace the days where we still were committed, even if it wasn't quite the same thing.

And we decided to get each other rings as our Christmas present. Not wedding bands or even an engagement ring, but something that fit us. That worked for right now.

Today we got them. It's not flashy, or fancy. But we saw them in a jewelers, two in the window, side by side - and magically, just the right fit for our two fingers. Like it was meant to be. Serendipity.

They aren't awesome enough to say all the things I mean (though I tried among the snowdrops and the clanging churchbells and sunshine this morning when I slipped it on his finger), but they look a bit like this.

And I couldn't be happier.

2011-02-09T16:50:00.004Z

I have decided to have drinks, to mark my leaving of this life.

And all of a sudden I've invited almost 200 people in this city.

I guess being marginally famous means I know a lot of folk.

I even have a snazzy website to keep track of rsvp's and generally stalk my guests with pie charts and status updates and everything.

Also I am quite proud of my silly little invite. See what I did there?

Have a look here

Self Employed

2011-02-09T09:50:00.002Z

There are many hard and weird things about jumping ship.

The sorrow I expected, the freedom seemed promising.

But now, when days stretch before me with everything and nothing to do, it's a little daunting, and on occasion more than a little upsetting.

Going freelance means flexible.

It means I am in charge.

It means I only take work I want.

(except when in a fit of panic, I say yes to anything because I am terrified of the gas bill - which happens more than I'd like to admit)

It also means no rules. I set my own deadlines. I'm the only one checking up on me. When it's work I'm none too keen on, it's like having a toddler in my brain.

Plus, the whole reason I left work was to have time. to stop. to think. to do NOTHING. to have filled my weeks with laundry, dusting, email, facebook, and piles of work means I'm doing exactly the opposite.

I'm avoiding my life, because honestly, I don't know what I'm going to find. I know it's time to clear the rubble. Harvest the good and bin the rest.

But I don't know what goes in which pile.

Not being sure of what I'm about to lose is making it a scarier proposition than I expected.

2011-01-28T09:59:00.004Z

I finish work today.

Which means right now I am clearing out my office.

And I keep finding email exchanges like this:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Blackwell - Edinburgh
Sent: 06 August 2007 08:34
To: Sara
Subject: Dime

I got a dime in my change this morning. I think I will keep it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Sara
Sent: 06 August 2007 10:08
To: Blackwell - Edinburgh RBS
Subject: RE: Dime

Oh the buds of cotton. Brings a tear to my eye. Besides, it's worth 5p, it looks like 5p. Who's really going to care?

S

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Blackwell - Edinburgh RBS
Sent: 06 August 2007 10:13
To: Sara
Subject: RE: Dime

It's cute. Who's that guy on the back?

Also, not your problemo but I tried to RSVP for the Opening Party and the email got returned to me cos the address doesn't work
Maybe you should try it out before passing it on to someone cos it might just be me being silly...

So, after the weekend, do you now have 3 moms?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Sara
Sent: 06 August 2007 10:18
To: Blackwell - Edinburgh RBS
Subject: RE: Dime

It's Eisenhower I think but I don't remember.

The email should work now, it was just down for a bit. Party should be quite the gig. 500 people last year apparently. And a roving band. Last night was at the fringe do behind Cargo. Pissing it down, but the drag queens didn't mind. I met the Hollywood designer the tiny designer in the Incredibles was made after. She had her Oscar in her arms but wouldn't let anyone touch it.

And yes, we had brunch in bodacious and then wandered to the bethany shop where they bought us a bookcase as a housewarming present (to go with the harvey nics champagne!). I think I have been accepted. It's official. I was invited to their civil cermony, that makes me family right?

S

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Blackwell - Edinburgh RBS
Sent: 06 August 2007 13:13
To: Sara
Subject: RE: Dime

I hope you are recording your life in some way.

change.

2011-01-23T15:01:00.004Z

Big is a relative term.

After all, a really big grape is what, the size of a golf ball?

But today my life is big like the size of the Death Star.

While my successor has settled in well, and taken to the job like a fish to water (mostly. which is more than I could have expected. my type A judgementalness can only be so accommodating).

I finish on Friday. And as I tried to explain to my pseudo-therapist, I'm not just leaving a job or an office. I am letting what I thought was my dream life die.

I am giving up on more than the desk, but the whole industry. I will never see 90% of these people (and there are thousands of them) again. I am turning my back on much of what I have built with every ounce of my being for the last five years, and that is an intense thing.

I wish I could viking funeral boat the whole place to give me a sense of scale, but that would be highly illegal. But farewell toast and a box of paltry desk detrious to cart home really isn't going to do this transition justice.

Also, leaving this work means leaving employment. What I need is time and space to sort out new directions and new plans.

I'm clocking off.

And it's terrifying.

I had no idea I had such a profound and abiding fear of poverty until the prospect of living without a paycheck arrived.

I am suddenly so small and so scared and fly off the handle about all sorts of random rubbish because deep down I am afraid I can't support myself. That I am starting on a slippery slope to destitution, ruin and depression I'll never recover from.

I don't believe it. Most of the time. But it is lurking my sadly child-like brain. waiting to haunt my days.

So, for better or worse, my throes of panic have brought about change.

On a positive bent, I asked the world for what I did want: flexible, artistic, full-filling PART TIME work to pay the bills while we save up to move. In media especially, as I think that's where I am headed.

On a negative one, I panicked at having freetime to face my fears and was cajoled by my overly analytical and deeply manipulative brain to find rash acts under which to bury my undying terror of poverty and loneliness.

Either way, I've now got more work than I know what to do with.

I'm a specialist consultant of freelance retainer with the BBC.
I'm doing some event management at the Science Festival.
I'm project managing a Book Festival thing on contract.

and Monday I have a meeting about running a specialised PR campaign around a new book hitting the market this spring.

Ask and ye shall receive, even when it's a mixed blessing.

Please don't let me ruin this. I worked so hard to let go. To give myself time and space and this spring to sort my life out. Don't let me railroad it with projects until I can't see straight.

Don't let me waste this chance for change.

2011-01-05T18:21:00.002Z

Today I cleared out my desk. Every scrap of me is now removed (we had to take a taxi home), and tomorrow She starts.

I tried not to get teary eyed and weird, but to be honest. It's a lot more than a desk.

I'm giving up the reigns, and I've never been much of a passenger at the best of times.

I hope I am up to this. This letting go. This starting over.

It may well be amazing, but it also happens to be fucking terrifying.

2010-12-19T17:51:00.002Z

Liam has just brought home the most phallic carrot I have ever seen.

There really is no adequate response.

2010-12-16T08:16:00.002Z

Today I have to clear out my desk.

My replacement starts the day after we get back from Christmas, and I think it's important she's sitting at her own desk from day one.

I'll still be there, for almost a month all in, to help her transition (read: braindump all the things I haven't yet had time to write into cohesive handover notes) and train some of the new staff while she settles in - but it'll be from a hotdesk. Which is going to be supremely weird if I'm not careful.

2010-12-13T20:08:00.002Z

Today the BBC called about consulting on a documentary.

Sometimes it's like the stars are in alignment.

Also, I have great socks. They make me super happy.

Official

2010-12-11T21:20:00.002Z

Yesterday we had to take the day off work and catch a dawn-o-clock train to Glasgow.

The mission? Avoid getting deported.

Currently, I am granted leave to remain in the UK because my big important job sponsors me to stay (they even had to write the government and say no one else in Europe could do my job as well as me to prove I wasn't stealing work from EEA nationals and everything).

Which means the day I stopped working there, I technically would have been an illegal alien.

So, after much agonising discussion (after all, we are planning to leave, it's just a question of timing) - we decided I needed a visa that let me live and work until we finally board the plane and wave goodbye.

Which meant in government terms form FLR(M). Or, a marriage visa.

The UK government is all up with modern life and so this form is for anyone married, civil partnered, or "living in a relationship akin to marriage".

So, yesterday we traipsed to the Border Agency with our bank statements and tax forms and proof we live together for the past few years and had our own pseudo-civil-service.

We had to sign a bit of paper saying we intended to stay in this committed relationship. This was promising the government that we are Us, and will be from here on out.

It could just be an ID card that means I'm not deported.

But actually, it's a pretty big fucking deal.

Because for me, it's the same promise as married. One I already made in my heart, I just finally said it out loud.

Being legally bound doesn't change anything, yet it is more than just a document. I don't know how to explain it, but I feel like I made a big step yesterday.

A momentous moment, thrown into relief by the shitty cubicle in the dodgy office complex in which it took place.

And yet perfectly highlighted by its weirdness. How he held my hand in the creepy waiting room. How I chatted to the security guards to help ease the formality (and tension in his shoulders). How we made weird faces and silent conversation about the menagerie around us, including the adorable toddler and the insane mail order bride. How we came home to collapse in a sleepy heap and have celebratory cheesecake straight from the tin.

How no matter how weird or hard or exhausting the process is, at the end of the day we're still two little beans in our little bean pod. Just the way it should be.

Life in the fast lane

2010-12-03T11:56:00.003Z

Things are changing. I am changing.

All of a sudden, life isn't happening to me - I am making life happen. Which is highly unexpected, but incredible.

In sum, I have quite my job. I am leaving Scotland. We are beginning a new life.

It will probably be back near Midwestia, and it will probably involve Liam being an academic. Me, I want to make documentaries and be a creative consultant on science and history projects. I want to write a book of essays. I want to be my art, not just commission other people's anymore.

It's not really a plan. First time in my life I haven't planned every step and sub-category along the way.

But you know what? That's not the only way to do it. and in fact, it's fucking exhausting to worry so much.

To be so preoccupied with the future I never get to enjoy now.

I am quitting more than my job, I am quitting being typeA. No matter what battlescars made me cope that way, I am unchoosing it. Right now.

Besides, everything I put on the list of life achievements so far has happened (yes, I really did have a list taped inside my closet):

Go to Italy - check
Travel the world - check
Be important and powerful - check
Fall in love - check
Live in Europe - check
be published - check
be famous - check
Go back to Scotland - check
Have letters after my name - check (it's BS MSc, but still)

Maybe I set my sights low.

Maybe I changed my mind.

But being on the local news and recognised in the grocery store isn't as fun as you think.

And living in Europe is amazing, but exhausting too. I'm ready to not be the foreigner for a while. I've forgotten what it's like to fit in. Maybe I never will, but I'd like to put down the burden of being special for awhile at least.

and I figure I'm young enough to throw it out the window and have an adventure.

We talk about joining the peacecorps or backpacking in Thailand. Roadtriping the east coast and learning to sail. I have so much more life than spreadsheets. And my ideas are too big for a town this small.

And frankly, for once, I don't care if I fail. I don't want to be perfect anymore, I just want to be Sara.

And for now she is just not a desk job, small town, salaried person. Even if it's an amazing job and a big salary. even if it's a heart breakingly beautiful town. and a world of people who re passionate about interesting things.

It's just not going to cut the mustard until I make and do and be what I want. What I believe in.

And I've had just enough success to know other people believe me too. My one great gift in life is so much enthusiasm it's contagious. So many ideas and connections and possibilities the world is teeming with projects and more things than I can ever do.

I love having ideas. They are pretty good ones too (good enough other people steal them for their book jackets and newspaper articles, and if you are my boss, a lot more than that). And if they are good enough to steal maybe they are good enough to sell. Hell, good enough to actually do something with instead of shelving for someday.

And frankly, my ideas are way better than my work ethic, so I may as well find a way to make money at what I do well. So why wouldn't I take the leap? What have I got to lose?

now.

2010-10-08T09:19:00.002Z

I have learned a lot of things lately. About who I am. About what I want.

While it is a little disappointing to be about 15 years behind schedule with this sort of thing, I've gotten over the shoulds for the most part now. I am a zen Buddha goddess it turns out. Also, I am battling depression - but more about that some other time.

Today, today is for remembrance.

For the Grady Family weekend
Yes, archery and canoes and pirates and dogs are brilliant. But mostly it just makes me happy to have all of us in the same place again. Also, am doing much internal work on being more open and honest with my family. So far C-, but I'll get there. I think. Thanks for being patient.

For Liam's unswerving devotion
Despite my crises of conscious and mood swings, he sees fit to love me anyway. I am so goddamn lucky (and scared).

For autumn leaves and crisp apples
It is a season of change. Of letting go. Of decay and dormancy as well as harvest. It is time. I am ready. Let's watch the sun set on this life and be relieved.

For Michigan
Shockingly, it turns out it's one of the most beautiful places in the world. After all this running away, I've been blind to the natural wonders of our little peninsula. While I vow never to settle down in Owosso or Webberville, just thinking of it makes me happy.

Mackinac
Chippewa
Menomenee

Saranac
Pewamo
Petoskey

Tequamanon
Cheboygan
Saugatuck

From Kalkaska to Escanaba,
via Sault Ste Marie and Kalamazoo
Michigan's places roll in my mouth and taste of home.

2010-08-26T17:45:00.001Z

I inadvertently made a girl cry today.

I feel shit.

Rumbly in my Tumbly

2010-06-09T18:40:00.003Z

Today, is a food day.

I have these sometimes. Where food is literally all I can think about. I can taste the flavours and get massive cravings. It's honestly impossible to do much else than think about food, make food, shop for food recipes and daydream of glorious delicacies past.

Which means I am not going to tell you about the office road trip to Wales or how I started writing in an honest-to-goodness-leather-bound-journal as part of this self help project I'm on. No, today is for feasting.

Dinner is cooking and I can hardly wait, so I am going to tell you about it to help alleviate my impatient wait time.

Today, Stuffed Peppers and Fake Paella

First, the peppers:
Puy Lentils are seriously amazing. Even if you think pulse are for dirty hippies, trust me, these are awesome. Like beans but better, like grains but fuller, all yummy scrummy perfect.

Simmer with a bit of garlic, a bit of stock and a dash of red wine and herbs (I use italian ones for this).

While cooking, cut Red and Yellow Peppers in half and deseed. Lay out in a casserole dish.

When the lentils are cooked and soaked up all the juices, spoon into the pepper hollows.

Rip up mozzerella and some fresh basil and garnish. Add a few cherry tomato halves to each face.

Bake for 20-odd minutes until cheese is crispy and peppers are soft.

For fake paella, because I cannot be bothered with the full on monster pot full and hours of simmering tonight (even though it's amazing):

Fry an onion.
Add chopped up chorizo/pepperoni stick
Add a cup of rice plus spices (today: paprika, chili and a bit of coriander and cumin)
Add stock/water and simmer rice until almost cooked
Add a cup of peas right before the end

Serve.

It's going to be a masterpiece of simplicity. I cannot wait.

ps - Got france in the world cup draw. is that good?

Crazy Eights

2010-05-23T17:19:00.002Z

I liked this in Heidi Renee's blog, and seeing as I rarely come up with anything interesting/fun to say these days, thought I'd give it a shot.

8 T.V. Shows I Watch
I mostly watch tv on demand or on dvd, so airing dates have become obsolete in our house, but most of these I watch pretty regularly

1. Glee
2. Agatha Christie's Poirot
3. Veronica Mars
4. 30 Rock
5. the nerdtastic The Story of Science
6. the geekery and banter of QI, because who doesn't love Stephen Fry?
7. Plus we're savouring the last series of Battlestar...
8. and just about to start Mad Men

8 Favorite Places to Eat and Drink
I've limited myself to Edinburgh establishment of quirky distinction. Should you visit, I'll take you to them all:

1. eteaket : (see what they did there?) gourmet cakes (from Libby's, see below), the world's best scones and a tea menu larger than most wine lists

2. oink : proper old fashioned hog roast roll is the perfect winter warmer. the best hand-held food money can buy.

3. libby's cakes : a place for only cupcakes and cake cakes. decadence is perfection. especially with glitter icing.

4. cafe andaluz : tapas that will make you melt and the world's best tablet to finish.

5. oloroso : a rooftop patio to die for and my favourite local micro-brew: Innis & Gunn

6. bramble : exotic cocktails in vintage tea cups. what's not to love?

7. ashai : best chicken tikka biryani in town.

8. under the stairs. quaint, cosy and full of beaten up leather chairs. perfect for a quiet drink.

honourable mention: my parents house on Sunday mornings. dad's brunch is still unrivaled.

8 Things I Look Forward To

1. lazy sex at the weekend
2. sunny afternoons
3. the next great novel which will sweep me off my feet
4. seeing my sister again
5. moving, leaving and starting over
5. getting out to open water
6. special occasions (which lately have included Othello night (the game, not the play) and going to "our" band's gig)
7. taking a bath
8. oddly, some exercise. i am in the market for a bike.

8 Things That Happened Yesterday

1. did yoga in the garden, bliss.
2. liam did The 48 Hour Film Project
3. baked my first but by no means last madeira cake.
4. slept alone because of number 2 :(
5. made lemonade from scratch for to picnic in this heat wave
6. ...and ended up with a nasty sunburn on my back
7. bought a killer new dress
8. watched Anne of Avonlea

8 Things I Like About Summer

1. long, long evenings (we're so far north the sun doesn't go down til after 10pm lately)
2. soaking up heat until I can feel it in my bones
3. the emergence of my freckles at last
4. everything feels more cheerful
5. picnics and bbqs
6. the soft breeze off the water
7. the lushness and slowness of everything
8. the excitment that bleeds into the city as Festival season approaches

8 Things I'm Passionate About

1. Family
2. Nature
3. Education
4. Free Speech
5. art, in all its forms
6. developing a deeper understanding of my connection to the universe
7. the feeling of home
8. community

8 Words or Phrases I Use Often

1. love you like salt
2. bean
3. noodle fish
4. hey lady
5. fuck (or when really annoyed, jesus fucking christ)
6. i'm okay
7. seriously?
8. whatever.

8 Things I Have Learned From the Past

1. Feel, then think, then do.
2. Stopping to reassess may feel like it costs you time, but it saves you sanity which is priceless
3. writing things down really is cathardic
4. People change more than you know (and aren't nearly as scary as you think)
5. Be passionate and the work will find you.
6. Always eat local, especially when travelling. McDonalds in Germany tastes like shit, and kofta tastes brilliant you get over the fact it looks like a poo log.
7. College is more about learning about you than learning facts.
8. Enough is better than too much in almost everything.

8 Places I'd Like to Visit
where I haven't been before

1. Thailand
2. New Zealand
3. New York City
4. Tokyo
5. Eastern Europe (Budapest, Vienna & Prague)
6. Costa Rica
7. Orient Express (train from Florence to Paris)
8. The pyramids

8 Things I Currently Want/Need

1. Want: Liam to wake up so we can have dinner
2. Want: new jeans
3. Need: to find a path in life
4. Need: inner guidance
5. Want: grilled halloumi, yum
6. Want: purge this every growing pile of unnecessary stuff cluttering up the house
7. Want: a bicycle
8. Need: forgiveness

I won't tag anyone in particular, go for it if you're so inclined!

joie de vivre

2010-05-10T15:59:00.003Z

I realised something momentous today.

I know what I want to do with my life. Of course, I've always sort of known in that vaguely intuitive, childish way - but not really articulated it.

I doubt I can do so here because as always, I never make things easy for myself.

Turns out what I want to do isn't a job or an occupation or a career. It's not an act or series of acts. It's not achievement driven or on a measurable path.

But I know what it is, and I am pretty sure I can guess what it isn't.

Here are things it is:
sharing
learning
growing
encouraging
inspiring
passion
joy

Here are things I will do:
talk
write
discuss
create
perform

But the fundamental thing I missed when I thought I had my perfect job, is that I am too far removed. I spend my time curating great art - and facilitating the meaningful, enlightening discussion of artist and audience.

But I don't want to be the facilitator, juggling the needs and desires of others, or managing other people's talent anymore.

I want to be involved. I want to share my voice. Inspire with my passions. Teach what I know in this old soul.

I think at first glance documentary films (a la the Discovery Channel) and journalism are my first port of call - but I could go anywhere.

Maybe I'll lecture in colleges (I might teach, but I won't teach those who don't want to learn). Maybe I'll tour conferences and festivals giving talks. Maybe I will become a Charlie Rose talking head somewhere down the line, but that's not an ambition, it's a bi-product of being an expert in what you do.

I believe learning is growing, and growing is the path to personal development and well being. I want to live that journey and share it with others. I am ready to discover what this world has to offer and spend my life sharing that joy with you.

So thanks, in advance, for tolerating my joie de vivre.

hello, world

2010-04-25T18:36:00.003Z

hey there stranger.

It may not have been a conscious decision, but I stopped blogging for a while. You may have noticed.

Turns out my health/quarter-life crisis required I unplug for a while while I re-sifted my reality.

Now is not the time to give you the full blown monologue on the epiphanies, much less the hilarious stories of speculums, pregancy tests and the world of part-time, but I do want to record this milestone.

My doctors say my body is acting like it's pregnant.
My therapist says I am emerging a new person.
I say I've finally given birth to myself. A whole and complete woman, for the first time at peace and celebrating my body, my health and the planet. I feel radiant and alive in ways I never knew were possible.

It sounds hippy dippy, and it is. One of the things I found is a spirituality I didn't know I had and am still coming to terms with.

It's terrifying to admit the life I built isn't for me. It's more than a job or a house or a city, but my whole way of life. I don't do the things I love. I'm only starting to realise what they are.

The scary bit is letting go. This place isn't without beauty, this life isn't a bad one. These people deserve friendship, this job deserves love. That wasn't wrong, and I wasn't wrong to choose it.

but I built a version of my life that centered on giving all of me, and not getting enough back. and for once, I'm willing to fold.

So while I'm not about to post my manifesto (I do have one. It's still in draft. I hope it always is), here are some true things:

- I love to work with my hands.
- I love to be outside
- I love to create
- I want to connect more honestly, openly and deeply with my world.
- especially with my family, even though I am terrified they will hate this and condemn my sentimental illogical leap of faith.

I want to build a world of my choosing, and it's starting now.

recovering

2010-03-03T12:14:00.002Z

So it's March. The year is 17% over.

I am not any further along on the things I promised myself. I don't have a plan, or a direction or a new job. I haven't thought about the move and I don't have a clue what life will be like for us when we make all these big changes. (I've started to worry that I am avoiding it all, and that deep down I am terrified that US won't be us anymore when everything else is different. Which is silly I know, but I've had a lot of time to wind myself up in circles.)

I suppose the real issue is my stupid gut. After 4 months without hormones or menses, they have come back with a vengeance. And a growth lump on my ovary which is hemorrhaged, filling with blood and causing trouble.

While I am totally fine and definitely not dying of cancer, every day is harder than it should be. The side effects of my overly freaked out body are exhausting.

I keep telling myself it's nothing. Hopefully it'll solve itself if I can outlast the symptoms. That actually, on any given day, things are fine, I am okay and life is going to keep trucking on.

Partly that's true. Well, actually that's completely true - but it's sometimes hard to believe. Today I was back at another doctors. I was looking at the running list of symptoms I keep in my bag as if it was a grocery list:
abdominal pain? check
nausea? check
tender and swollen pelvis? check
the list goes on for a page.

And getting to the end my heart skipped a beat. Not because any one of those things is awful. not because they even all happen all the time. but added up, it is that bad. it sucks. its exhausting. and it's hard. and it's taken me this long to admit it, so all the pretending and compensating and guilt tripping myself into keeping on and keeping up is actually part of the problem more likely than not.

And I could kick myself.

The hardest part is that somewhere along the way I've lost is the drive to keep trying.

in the break and rest and time out that is required for healing and thinking and doctors, i've accidentally taken a breather from my life. and once you stop it is inevitable that the free time that comes with being laid up starts to make you look around. and it's depressing that all i see is carnage.

a broken body. an exhausted mind. no will. no ambition. no creativity. no passion. no friendships, they've all fallen by the wayside since i stopped writing, calling, going out or doing anything but watching bad tv and moaning alone and small. an absolute lack of anything resembling my personality. a relationship that takes all our energy and freetime - i think because the mood swings, fatigue and deteriorating link to the real world are making it increasingly difficult for me to listen, help, support and care about anything. so what energy we do have is making up for it - little kindnesses and long talks, nice things, but not, I'd wager, the meaningful depth, incredible intimacy and valuable seperateness that make (made?) us so good. and that is not anyone's fault but it's sad.

And while part of me is just exhausted, angry and impatient to reclaim myself, I have no interest in getting back on this carousel. I can't pretend I want things to go back to how they were (airy fairy it may be, i feel like this serendipitous fresh start and new look is one of the great goods that will come from this. i needed it). but it's going to be hard and it's scary. and right now i am not okay enough to handle that, so it's just sitting there. looming. waiting for me.

2010-01-28T14:32:00.002Z

it is an an aweful and awesome thing to realise how fragile your own mortality is.

perhaps most people survive this cliche, but to realise big bad things don't just happen to other people is fucking midbending and life changing.

it is just a little pathetic it takes such a stupid little thing like some malformed cells and busted tissue to make me wake up.

sleeping beauty

2010-01-26T10:18:00.002Z

So here's the thing: I'm not me. I know that can sound bitterly cliche, but tragically it also happens to be true.

For weeks now I've felt drifty, confused and generally like I've just climbed out of the whirlygig. Or more likely, I'm just waking up - just groggily coming to consciousness and still in the liminal half dreamspace where both realities exist, but neither one is fully realised.

It's freaking me out.

Partly, life is liberating. Admitting how much I hate this has put me in touch with bigger, wilder emotions than I've felt in a long time (thankfully this includes my long lost libido).

But also, it's insanely weird to feel like the life I've been living is somehow less. Is actually a state of cryogenic deep freeze whereby my everything got lost and I'm only just remembering how this all works. like that freakish mel gibson movie.

so I don't have any answers. I certainly don't have a plan.

and while part of me a freaking out, I keep telling myself that's the type-A bit that persuaded me life in a semi-coma for the last year and I shouldn't listen to her.

remember

2010-01-07T19:28:00.002Z

this is it people. the year of change.

i'm not above admitting I am terrified and lost, but I am unwilling to keep treading the same disappointment. it's amazingly liberating. and also exhausting, but that okay because...

we are leaving. it is over. the long drawn out break up between me and this life is now officially over.

and in my purge (my shiatzu lady tells me it is the re-balancing of my water element in my kidney that calls for this winter pruning), i have found something I wrote down last September.

Funny I already forgot it, but then I have forgotten a lot of things that were hard to hear in the recent past.

so here, now, is my utterly incomplete but absolutely true list of needs:

- spend time every day just listening to yourself

- do not confuse overwhelming volume of input with meaningful output. distraction isn't the same thing.

- eat only homemade baked goods and sweets. pick your poison. no preservatives or weird shit. ps, bagels are exempt. bread is too until I learn how to make it.

- get local, seasonal fruit and veg (and eat at least 3 every day).

- vary my diet and sleep patterns for different times of year.

- which means you are allowed to give into the winter need for sleep sometimes, just don't let it win.

- lay down every day

- look out the window every day

- stretch every day

- make find and invent occasions for dressing up

- solve domestic issues without just buying things

- start that quilt

- eat dinner at the table at least once a week

- do something completely on my own more often

- be outside every day. really be. even if it's cold and wet and horrible.

- tell my family how I feel. really.

- look after Liam. this is going to be harder for him than it is for you.

here endeth the lesson.

2009-12-18T15:55:00.003Z

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)

tea

2009-12-16T14:24:00.004Z

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.

2009-12-05T23:04:00.002Z

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.

Best of the 2009 Blog Challenge

2009-12-02T22:23:00.004Z

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 ?

I'd like to pretend I'll do the whole month of daily challenges, but since that would double my entries for 09 to date, I'm not sure you should hold your breath.

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

2009-12-02T21:42:00.002Z

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.

a tempered passion

2009-11-07T17:50:00.004Z

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.

before

2009-10-21T21:23:00.003Z

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.

disillusioned

2009-10-20T20:57:00.003Z

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 golden rule being: avoid pseudo meat.

2009-10-10T14:24:00.003Z

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!

2009-10-09T18:01:00.002Z

brilliant weekend in the country : a quaint book festival, seashore views, and a stone circle to climb. not to mention a ceilidh populated by lovable lunatics and a glorious rural drive home. le sigh.

next up: londinium!

now if only I could kick this cold.

2009-09-22T09:13:00.002Z

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.

afters

2009-09-16T15:55:00.002Z

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.

Films of 2009: The Bumper Edition.

2009-08-03T10:59:00.011Z

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.

Films of 2009 (so far)

2009-07-26T12:52:00.000Z

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.

today

2009-07-22T13:40:00.002Z

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.

summer 09

2009-07-20T09:28:00.002Z

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.

someday I won't mind...

2009-06-04T19:19:00.003Z

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.

eurovision 2009

2009-05-19T08:05:00.001Z

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.

2009-05-06T21:36:00.002Z

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.

Sex is better than any drug

2009-05-04T16:51:00.002Z

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.

2009-04-28T16:19:00.003Z

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.

tide and time

2009-04-17T13:17:00.003Z

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.

2009-04-05T16:17:00.003Z

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.

out and about

2009-03-22T13:44:00.003Z

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!

Sprung

2009-03-14T18:53:00.002Z

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.)

catch up

2009-03-07T14:23:00.004Z

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.

not quite home

2009-02-16T17:26:00.002Z

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.

25 things

2009-02-10T16:38:00.003Z

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.

carpe diem!

2009-02-04T16:26:00.002Z

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.

Wii lovin gone wrong.

2009-01-26T14:18:00.003Z

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.

philosophical conundrum

2009-01-18T16:55:00.002Z

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.

okay

2009-01-16T20:35:00.002Z

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.

2009-01-09T08:44:00.002Z

sometimes it's just harder than it should be. than it needs to be.

sometimes when i try to apologise all that comes out is more venom.

i'm sorry. this isn't what i wanted.

my year

2009-01-04T16:20:00.002Z

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.

now

2009-01-01T12:09:00.001Z

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.

hope

2008-12-31T14:38:00.002Z

So, let's be honest. Christmas with the pseudo-in-laws is hard. Cheerful, joyous, full of generosity and warm feelings of seasonal joy. But also too much everything and not enough sleep (who gets up at 6 every morning during vacation? who?!). Plus serious, black, homesickness.

But in the mess, somehow Liam and I found each other. Being away from home, where we were held and fed and looked after, we spent our spare minutes and long country drives dreaming of better. Making plans. Believing in a future, and that we could build a life we wanted. It was all so hopeful. And together. It felt so real, so possible.

And literally, the second we got home the rest of the world came crashing down and we were fighting within minutes. Money and deadlines and pressures we had actually almost forgotten in the fuzzy, holiday of make believe.

We are trying so hard. So hard to remember. To keep believing. To keep holding onto the fact that we will get out - leave this godforsaken city, with choices ahead of us, a future together.

But if I'm honest (and let's pretend I'm good at that for a minute), I'm terrified too. I don't want this life. I know we will find something. But walking away from the only life I've ever had that wasn't dependent on my parents - the only job I've held for more than a few months because I really believed in it (though my current passion is questionable), leaving the only city I know inside and out, have built a home in.

It's fucking scary. I know in someways Liam wanting to leave tomorrow is because it's a brave confession of how hollow this life is. But it also feels like running away. And I don't have anywhere to run. I'm not sure I want to run directionless, I'd rather decide, and have something to look forward to.

I will build up the courage to walk away - to start over again, to try omething new. But I have no idea what I would do, where we would go. And part of me isn't ready to jump ship.

It's weird we want exactly the same thing. But somehow the timeline feels all screwed up. I know we're looking for the same life, but maybe the getting there is going to be hard since now, then and inbetween is all a bit hazy.

I don't even know what I'm saying. I think it stung when he asked if I was serious about leaving. Because I am. But I didn't know we meant today. I thought we'd have a plan first. And I guess being scared is making me stall.

Fucking hell being a grown up is hard.

Christmas wish.

2008-12-15T17:17:00.003Z

Even after all these years, I still have unflagging yearning for Christmas to be special.

And it pretty much always is, even if it's not the kind on a Hallmark card.

It's never the same twice, despite my siblings attempts to instil rituals, but it's always a day to share something.

I can only hope 5,000 miles from my family I can still feel loved and share some joy with the people I do spend the day with.

I told Liam the other night that I wanted to gain two families, not feel like I was having to spend less and less time with my own. I so want it to come true.

There Will Be Nights Like These

2008-12-09T10:41:00.008Z

I first heard this poem read by the author in a strange Australian poetry house. I have read it a dozen times since, and while I do not generally like long winded quoting and I generally don't cut and paste, I want to share it with you.

There will be nights like these
when all you hear
is the asynchrony of our mouths -
the words we do not say
and the questions we do not ask hanging
in the cold aid above our heads
or lining the sill, growing damp.

There will be nights like these
when all you feel
is the anonimity of our skin,
the distance gathered in like
tangled sheets
which the other has never known

and I will lay curled like a fist,
every part of me twisted away
from your perfect mouth yes
there will be nights like these.

But there will be others -

my fingers uncurling and tracing your face
the white flag unfurled and you bracing
the dark with your sweet thieving hands
moving dog-sly and fox-quick and
the blockade in me breaks as if fashioned
of matchsticks stuck with grief so used up that
it crumbles when breathed on
and you tread underfoot
all the heart-rent and long-gone
as I lay down my weapons
you call the parade through
and I'm lifted and lost
at the surge and the sight of you

I'm lifted and lost to
our bodies so close
that the first pale blade of light
slipped under the blind
finds no purchase to separate
your limbs from mine on my word
we will wake like that.

Stay with me.

There Will Be Nights Like These
by Josephine Rowe.

You can find her, and this poem, here http://www.cherryfoxmantle.com/#.

2008-12-08T16:39:00.002Z

it's not that bad.

the oven is broken, the heater doesn't work, the sink leaks and spouts tank water - like on planes. you can't drink it. it's disgusting. and (gasp) dominoes won't deliver here.

but the sun streams in over the Pentlands. the cathedral bells chime from the top of the road. the front windows are floor to ceiling and show a better world, full of little old ladies and families playing soccer in the communal garden. it's a lifetime away (and 15 minute walk) from the muggers and druggies of my old neighborhood.

it could so be worse.

2008-12-05T11:50:00.002Z

tomorrow we are moving.

after the busiest 6 months of my life, we now have the added complication of boxes and internet providers and mail forwarding and the joys of heavy lifting.

i am nervous. and scared.

mostly because i am unable to take time off work, so I am not there. I am not packing. I am not the one calling the gas company. I feel useless and numb and it all seems so unreal without the methodical cathardic process of putting your old life away to unpack the new one later.

also, I feel guilty Liam is trying to carry this burden alone. Managing the little things can take a lifetime.

Plus, his brother is staying with us. To help with the move. But instead of coming for the weekend of the move to lift boxes and then campout in the new place, for unforseeable circumstances it has become a week of tripping over him in the packing process and a spare pair of hands to disassemble the shelving. A nice guy, and such a help. But the stress of packing and moving makes us shit hosts. It's all gone a bit pear-shaped.

Anyway. I should be excited. A huge, quiet new place in a nice neighborhood. But honestly, I am just counting the minutes until my world feels normal again. Until my life is my own.

back again.

2008-11-19T12:36:00.002Z

I have been home for 3 days. 3 whole days of my own bed, my own Liam, my own life.

After a month on the road and on three different continents, it was all I hoped for. Counting the minutes til I could call home - the hours til I boarded the next plane. Here and now anchored me when the world turned upside down and I went from high to high on the press junket, keeping the tears for the non descript hotel bed after.

And it was awesome. It was. I met Neil Gaiman at a party in a crypt. I dipped my toes in the Tasmanian Sea. I went to the gay wedding in a castle of two people I love. I danced at one of my best friend's weddings, sick as a dog but in a fucking killer Rocketeer dress. I witnessed my first interesting and not entirely mediocre poetry slam and saw Ned Kelly's actual armour.

I went and did and saw and learned. It was inspiring, amazing, exciting and intoxicating. And the whole time I just secretly wanted to come home.

So here I am. Home. Safe. Done. And now I sadly have to face the rest of my life. And it's not the rainbows and lollipops one can squint and pretend with from across the world.

It's debt. Massive debt. It's mice. And rent. It's moving complications and Liam's unemployment. It's dirty socks and soggy towels.

If I'm honest, it's just aweful.

at least it's real. I've spent a month touring about, laughing politely and drinking too much champagne. with no deadlines, no curfews, no expectations. but the whole time I yearned for solid, honest to goodness real. for truth.

the problem is the real world is dirty and hard and gray and wet and sad. and cold. so cold. scotland is a sad place full of sad people, and I am just another schmuck counting the days until I get out again.

We hate our lives. I don't like my job. We are hugely in debt and in a place we don't want to be anymore. And we can fix it. We can. But it'll take time and energy, which I unashamedly and ludicrously object to.

I think mostly I just wanted the world to pause with me - and to give me two inches of breathing room before dumping credit cards and dead house plants on my happy reunion and homecoming. but the thing with the real world is, you can't just make it up. it's already happening.

2008-10-23T11:14:00.002Z

I am in my one bedroom stereotypical corporate downtown flat. Everything is black and white with chrome and glass accents. The mirrors are 10x the size of the tv.

It is situated in the west end of SoHo. On Old Compton Street if you know it, a funny place where worlds colide. It's sort of the borderline of many of London's defining neighborhoods. It's the north edge of theatreland. It's the eastern edge of bohemian political students in coffee shops, with bookstores on every corner, plus it's a throughway of the hard core gay clubbing and seedy underbelly of strip clubs and rooms by the hour venues. Plus, across Shaftsbury Avenue lie the paper lanterns of Chinatown.

It's incredibly central, and yet quite tucked away behind a little family italian place that makes fancy wedding type cakes and a posh bar with 10 pound cocktails.

it's nice. but also odd. being away from home for so long, and yet still somehow not so different. If I was here on vacation it's be some urban wonderland, but it's still business meetings and receptions. I finally got an oyster card (a top up card for the tube) and my AtoZ is so dogeared I practically look like a local buying milk and biscuits for when I am so lazy I have meetings at my dining table instead of braving the tottenham court road tube station.

it's a funny thing London, for the first few visits it's terrifying and huge and hollow. And then after a while you realise London doesnt give fuck, and you'll never know everywhere - so you just put your head down and shuffle along like all the other commuters.

some stuff I did once

2008-10-16T12:41:00.003Z

It's been forever. There is really far too much to even attempt to catalogue right now, but I'm going to try just because I use lists like other people do yoga.

- It's fall. It's gray and wet the vast majority of everyday. My bones are cold. My soul is cold and Liam and I came to the realisation we don't want ot live here anymore. We are moving to America. Christmas 2009 we hope.

- My sister got married. Seperate from the wedding, the glitz, the family, the celebrations, it was also a hugely emotional thing. It was a momentous occasion in my life, even if I wasn't the one to say I do, and my brain is still toying with it. The fact that I smiled more than I ever have, belted my guts out more than I thought I could, danced like a loon in front of strangers, took shots traight from the bottle with some columbians (now family) and still hid in the bathroom to cry unexpected Elinor tears during their first dance kind of sums up my day.

- The wedding and the ensuing family reunion was a wonderful blast that was perfect and lovely and an odd combination of not nearly enough of anyone and too much birthday.

- And I so badly want to come home for Christmas and I just don't think I'll have the money. The first time I've really been too poor for something and it's ironic I am now paid the most I will possibly ever make in my entire life.

- Liam and I got a Wii, and my parents bought me a sweet leather jacket while I was home. Although these are not huge life altering moments, they do somehow feel as if they belong in someone elses life. I cruise around in a 50s bomber, and then go home to play video games. It's fucking weird is what it is.

- We are moving house. I still love quaint and cobbled and riding boots and castles - but jesus fucking christ. My knees hurt. I hate having mice. I hate the constant construction to revamp the old, decrepitness of these buildings. So we are mving up and out to a bigger, quieter place. Thank the lords.

- On Monday I am leaving for London. I will not be in my own bed for 13 nights, and see 4 cities in 3 countries in that time.

- 3 days after I get back I am going to Australia. On a 26 hour flight via Dubai where apparantly the meals are 5 course and my personal tv (holding 400 movies) is also a playstation. I have never looked upon travelling so lightly. Even if it will be two days later by the time I get there.

- In between all that I am going to Liam's mom's gay wedding, sorting out next year's fest, supporting liam in quitting his job and starting a new course and figuring out the rest of my life so we can leave this god forsaken island (and planning and saving up for our birthday getaway in grenada - can you believe I can afford a week in spain with flights for like half a plane ticket home? it's disgusting.)

- life is big. not like having a baby big, but pretty close. new house, new life, planning a big move and a new job. also vaguely dicussing the someday wedding and babies, but only in hazy enough terms our heads dont explode. and oh yeah, being an international ambassador for the worlds largest celebration of literature and ideas. it's nothing really.

2008-09-13T12:18:00.003Z

so, i am back at my parents house.

something I always look forward to, and yet always comes with a couple of days of trying to sync the life I had here with them and the me I am now. it always takes a minute to readjust without reverting.

but anyway, it is very nice. it's quite quiet just the three of us bumming around, watching BSG and snacking (my parents are a gold mine of weird food).

but it's also the calm before the wedding storm - by wednesday the house will be chock a block, so i'm making the most of now to get over the jet lag and cold and sort out the last minute details. we are all a bit on pins and needles i think, with dresses, shoes, invitations and stuff floating around us quietly humming in the background.

it's all a bit much to be honest, but I am so excited it's quite literally hard to contain myself. because no matter what, it isn't about the right amount of stuff or if i have limp hair from the weird water here.

it's about kate. and jimmy. and forever. and quite frankly, you can't fuck that up. it's unmitigated joy.

opportunity costs

2008-09-03T13:48:00.004Z

today I got the call of a lifetime. and it couldn't have been worse timing.

things are busy.

there have been delightful moments (a dvorak concert at the castle with synchronised fireworks and a picnic of strawberries and french cider), there have been hard moments (the debilitating pain of the last few days of the festival), and then there is the rest of life. which i tend to brush over.

now that thing I spent the last 11 months plannig is over. I am a little hollow, a little worn, and a little bit terrified that the rest of the world keeps going, assuming i am still a functioning being when I am out of steam, out of enthusiasm, and pretty much drifting about like a ghost.

Today, I am taking tally of my autumn - being prepared helps me feel less fractured.

Next week, I need to close this Festival. Sign off budgets, send thank you notes, debrief with the staff.

And then Friday I head home for a relaxing holiday/wedding extravaganza. A delightful oxymoron I've been looking forward to for over a year now.

After the dust settles, it's two weeks back at work getting my head on and preparing the vision for the next year with large amounts of research, meetings and planning.

Then, in mid-October I am in London for two whole weeks of meetings with publishers, charities, galleries and partners in a world of schmoozing, business and busy London life.

So, after one week of full on London - then of course, the middle weekend I am dashing to Kent for Liam's mom's gay wedding at a castle, which will be a hoot and a half Then back to London for another 5 days of madness.

Then, that Friday I am jumping on a plane to Chicago for a quick weekend of Anika's black tie Chicago wedding. Which will be amazing, but so so busy and so much jetlag and so much work to catch up on.

And today I got the call of a lifetime.

The following Tuesday, I am due back in Edinburgh by 8am.

I have been asked if I'd like to head a contingency of literati for a conference/tour of here and Australia as an international collective of arts workers looking to the future.

It is a dream gig.

But can I realistically say I can jump off one plane and onto another bound for Melbourne until 16 November (bearing in mind I won't have been at my desk for a month and my programme still needs legs)?

It's fucking insane. But it's also impossible to turn down. I have always wanted to go to Australia. To go, doing what i do best, and seeing the world as a cultural ambassador with the prospect of international collaboration and a whole new vision is really not the kind of thing one gets asked to do (on a full free ride) everyday.

But can I abandon this life for that length of time? Can i really tell Liam I am disappearing for the better part of a month and not expect that to have reprecussions? Do I want to be my job, or do I want to come home?

Sigh...

Today is not the day for decisions.

If I feel better later, I'm going to the gala opening of Bond Bound - an exclusive exhibition of the original 007 book covers and charity auction. But you know what? I might not. And for once, I am totally okay with not going to something just because I can and it'll make a good story later. My psyche is too important for that. I have a lot of shit to sort out.

2008-08-24T13:18:00.002Z

it is sunny. and warm. and of my 19 events today, the first 10 have gone off without a hitch.

The fact that a publisher sent up a giant elephant costume (about a famous elephant picture book) assuming I would have a random minion to hand to wear it and dance about like a loon in front of 80 small children caused slight panic this morning. But Julie saved the day in a groundbreaking elephant boogie which I am sure will be discussed for years to come (and I will owe her copious amounts of cakes to pay her back). It was outstanding.

So right now, I am glugging coke straight from the two litre and gearing up for an afternoon of interactive poetry and flour bombs.

I love my job.

ps - I will be home in exactly 19 days!

festive fever

2008-08-21T09:41:00.003Z

so, life:

I am 12 days into my 18 day festival. My average shift is 8am to 10pm. It's grueling and aweful and also amazing. I love kids. I also love champagne. As long as I don't mix the two, things are going well.

Two days ago I was on the 6 o'clock news on BBC 1 (which is repeated at 10pm and 8am - so everyone can have a go). I've yet to see it but my colleagues say I was articulate, which is a bonus. I am now marginally famous. Little old ladies stop me in the street with excitement which is nice. But the real testament to stardom is that one of my college student temp staff says his friends think I'm 'well fit'. I was never a hottie when I was their age, but now I'm apparently a Mrs Robinson.

Yesterday, two of my colleagues who met at last year's Festival and still work here got engaged (to each other) and I am on cloud nine with sentimentality.

Liam's mom and her partner are visiting this week. It's insane to spend my spare waking minutes playing hostess and having dinner parties, but they are very nice and have great taste in wine.

I have also handled two major first aid incidents. One of my staff members had a seizure so she & I spent the afternoon in hospital, and I was the one who called her mom.

Then two days later, a lady had a miscarriage in one of my tents. It was pretty aweful. It took all I had to play with her two toddlers and keep them engaged and calm while their mom was pulled out with an IV and stretcher. They are all fine now. I might be less so.

Other than that, I am living on 4 hours sleep, gutted I am missing the new modernist interpretive ballet of Dorian Gray which is taking the town by storm after it's New York premiere (it's the guy that did the Edward Scissorhands ballet a while back. le sigh.), and trying to get my shit together for the big wedding do in a month.

Things are...busy.

google love

2008-07-24T18:35:00.003Z

For the first time in eons, I've been just dicking around on the Internet. It's an old fashioned sort of fun, surfing.

I still remember when it was difficult to find what you wanted on the web. Before comprehensive searches or tags. I still remember before it even was called the internet, and was just a bunch of networked nerds in DOS, but I suppose that's not really the point.

My point is, now you can actually do anything you want.

Behold, a hidden page of google I was as yet unaware of : http://www.google.com/intl/en/help/features.html

I love free information. It's like being high, but more fun.

lost

2008-07-23T17:40:00.005Z

Today, I feel aweful. Somedays I just don't know how other people are even walking around much less being nice to each other or eating healthy or saving orphans.

As I shuffled home from a grueling day at work, my eyes glazed on the middle distance, I wondered what had gone so wrong. Where was I? Because I sure as hell wasn't in my body living my life.

I took a picture to record this feeling. And I didn't even recognise me. I looked like this:

I tried to look objectively, at this washed out, dried up, hollow shell of a person and wonder what happened. Not really what's wrong, because lord knows I'm not leaving my job or giving up on the lifetime's worth of social functions and stress bandying about at the minute (this isn't about problems I told myself, it's about solutions).

So I asked, what is missing in this photo? Apart from a bad hair cut, tired clothes and an over all dismal walk to imbibe everyday, there is no person there.

So I detoured. I walked barefoot through a graveyard I'd not visited in a while. I stopped to listen to the trains whistling below my feet. I looked up at the castle and tried to guess how tall it was.

Because the thing that is missing is me. What do I do? What do I enjoy? What am I looking forward to? When do I do the things I love?

I suddenly don't have answers for these, and that revelation is a great sadness.

I want to look like this again:

This was only 3 weeks ago. Chucking down rain, horrible cramps, no sleep, staying with the psuedo-in-laws. But a whole person, a contentment shines out (although it is quite a terrible picture of liam)

I want to feel like this:

This was a lifetime ago, or three years anyway.

And I just don't feel the magic anymore.

slept

2008-07-22T23:28:00.003Z

Sleeping with someone else will never be like sleeping alone.

Yes, I cannot describe how totally awesome it is. It means falling asleep as the little spoon every night, and someone to pet your head when you have a nightmare. And the whole waking up to the person you love, beautiful in the dappled sunlight, lazy morning sex routine is truly unbeatable.

But it also means that without a fuck off big bed and the ability to be comatose no matter what your environment (and without a care for the feeling and comfort of your bunkmate), completely solid night's sleep are fewer.

This may not be true for everyone, it may not even always be true for me. But I feel like after two years I should have settled into a pattern by now. And jesus, sometimes is it hard.

Not anyone's fault. Not unbearable. But sometimes, on small occasions of insomnia, oh do I miss that spread eagled, not a care in the world, crashing, blackness of sleep that you can have in complete solitude. a10 or 12 hour slab of solid, thick rest without interruption. That is some sort of bliss.

bachelorettes & bourjois

2008-07-19T15:04:00.005Z

Having lived in the UK's number one (and one of Europe's top 10) destination for hen parties for the last 4 years, I am sad to say the honeymoon period where you find drunk women wearing a random array of ill fitting costumes and penis paraphernalia funny, has sort of ended.

I must say, the middle aged slutty disney princess parade was a laugh, but I felt bad they were so cold, wearing so little, and had accidentally stumbled into the strip club soho block of town where they might have been mistaken as staff.

Now, I've never really been offended by theae gatherings (I bet it's probably pretty fun actually, with the right mind set), but getting dolled up to go catcalling and clubbing it's not really my cup of tea on a random tuesday evening, no matter what we are celebrating.

But that is beside the point. The question that is on my mind today gentle reader is- why do women assume all other women enjoy this sort of wild, girly, raunchy activity? It's one of these stereotypes - like we all want to bitch about how our boyfriends and husbands give bad head or want to oogle calvin klien models and george clooney.

I don't mean these might not be true for lots of people, lots of the time (he is very pretty jennie, I know). But why is it naturally branded into my consciousness because of my gender?

Of all the women I have known who throw or attend these parties, no one ever asked the bride much less the guests if they are comfortable with the donning of a penis (there is totally a greek myth geek joke in there somewhere) and screaming in pink fire engines.

It's sort of like in college where it's impossible to imagine someone who wouldn't enjoy being shitfaced, and teetotalers make you feel weird. It's an almost backward peer pressure - where no one coerced you, they just naturally expected you'd want to.

And today, I am a little baffled on how we got here as a culture. Assumptions defining our social interaction to a point where in certain instances, no one even asks 'what do you want to do' anymore.

I heard once about a friend's husband on a business trip and went out for drinks one evening. After, his colleagues were all shocked he didn't want to go to a strip club and meet hookers, and they just went without him. He went home, dazed at the weirdness, and called his wife.

It's fucking strange. And for the record: I never want to wear a bridal veil in a sports bar, do body shots off a waiter, be taught how to give a blow job in my living room or eat a lollipop with 'nads.

Of course, if you want to, I'll go ahead and give it a shot as a chum - and if it's awesome all the better - but in case I ever get married, as is the catch phrase of the week in the media, "not in my name" please.

ps - Yes, this thought experiment was prompted by my sister's forth coming nuptuals, but the activities in question are unrealted, so don't expect this to bare any resemblance to our real lives or pass any judgement on anyone involved - I'm just playing curious.

2008-07-16T17:49:00.002Z

I might someday finish the catalogue of our trip, but I am too fucking tired.

The short version:
wedding in brighton to mixed reviews
pseudo-in-laws will probably never be easy
Dover Castle is outstanding
The water there is so hard it changed my plumbing.
I miss sunshine so much it hurts.

But today, I was cheered by two things:

1, I am going to look at a new flat tomorrow. It's on a river.

2, I still in my spare time collect good signage. Silly, odd, badly translated or just charming.

Not only did I see a van marked 'Scotchick' which isn't about under age scottish lasses doing stupid things or about liqour of any sort. It is followed by the subheading "Scotland's number one for whole flavoured chickens". I kid you not. I'm not sure if you can get grape or tar though which would be my obvious first two choices.

But my current favourite is a construction sign (that bold white font on a red background) - "Heavy Plant Crossing". the options are mindboggling.

Our Last Two Weeks, part II

2008-07-13T17:09:00.003Z

So, after a day back at work post-Queen-spotting, and a day of housework, we were on the road to Brighton on Friday 4/7/08.

From halfway up Scotland to the centre of the south coast of England would take a conservative 8 hours in our rental Micra. Armed with juice boxes, and trail mix we hit the road at 7am.

It was a beautiful day until roadworks and the M25 (the highway that circles greater London) at 5pm on a Friday almost killed us. 8 hours stretched to 10 the 12.

By the time we arrived, we'd had a pointless crabby car fight and had to walk into a cocktail party sweaty and tired and 3 hours late to meet Liam's new step-family of about 50 people who are exactly like my Canadian cousins.

In a word, they are a good laugh, but not the calm, reserved and thoughtful faces one wants to see after a long day. More the - hand you a shot, yell in your ear, give a big hug and expect mildly entertaining conversation - types. Fun, but tough.

But of course, the 4th of July - the night was not over. So post-cocktails, Liam's brother and sister took us to a kitchy american dinner for amazing milkshakes and mediocre burgers to celebrate - then went to the beach (Brighton faces out onto the North Atlantic) and lit sparklers from some hippie's bonfire and danced around in the pitch black of the night sky to the sound of the waves.

It was freaking adorable.

Next time: Nuptuals and Nightmares

Our Last Two Weeks, part 1

2008-07-13T12:52:00.004Z

It is time, ladies and gentlemen, for a fortnightly round-up of the exciting adventures in my life.

First, let's travel back in time (doodle loodle loo, doodle loodle loo)

Tuesday, 1 July.
After having a massive meeting with one of the 5 largest banks in the world (I am not stupid enough to risk their six figure annual donation here), I went home from work at lunchtime.

I had to put on a newly dry cleaned dress (the first time I have ever paid this middle-class right of passage), and help Liam tie the unfathomable and yet utterly dashing windsor knot in his burnished copper silk tie - because at 2pm a taxi came to pick us up.

destination: the palace.

Today was the Queen's Garden Party - an annual event that gathers together the disgustingly rich, the public service sector and a random smattering of boy scouts, marching bands and diplomats to celebrate her majesty's birthday.

She has 3 in London and one in Edinburgh, and I was invited, I suppose, as one of the up and coming of the city. So, we went. I even bought a hat (it was required) with veil - it was totally Casablanca or some shit.

And by the way, it is prohibited to be unaccompanied in the presence of royalty (in case I was to bog off with a prince and cause a scandal I guess), so I brought my trusty british arm candy decked out like a Paul Smith model, and my passport for the ID check at the gate.

Upon arrival, we witnessed the royal procession down ed carpeted stairs to the garden while a brass band played God Save the Queen - which it turns out is the same song as America the Beautiful but with different words. Looks like we even thieved that out of spite. It was very diginified. Then, we ate copious amounts of cake.

Luckily, and also sadly, were dressed infinitely better than everyone else. Turns out rich people stop trying after the first few fetes and the number of people invited for 50 years of postal service or some such thing pulled out whatever semi-formal they wore to wedding 10 years and 15 pounds ago with a JC Penny Hat on top. Some of it was ghastly.

My new official dress code for formal occasions is you cannot show the backs of your knees in royal company. It's distasteful, no matter what your gender or age. (The number of past-middle-aged men whose kilts were hitching up in the back and showing just too much leg was appalling. )

In general, it was adorable and hilarious though, and so very pseudo-posh British. The Queen was in a lemon suit, just like always, and looked at the rabble of hysterical middle aged women who would RUN (when you didn't think it was possible) to stand near her with a steely resignation. It was a sight to behold.

The most bizarre part was when we all took tea (or lemonade or iced coffee), it wasn't the gold foil royal crest on the chocolate petit fours that got me. But the royal tea tent. Princess Anne needed respite I imagine and I think Philip was sneaking a tipple of something into his coffee, so they process to a private marquis. But the tent was glass sided on two sides - so about 700 middle aged loons could stand on the outside peering at them like a zoo observing to each other if Ma'am takes one sugar or two. They even stood on chairs and pushed like they were at the day after thanksgiving sales at Hudsons. Needless to say, we ceceeded from the madness and wandered the rose garden and medieval abbey ruins embedded in the lawn instead.

It was outstanding.

Of course, the version I tell my grandmother will significantly up the ante (more about the royal guard of archers - with real bows and arrows! - less about the tasteless fashion), and ever the royalist she will weep with joy that I've witnessed the upper eschelons at tea.

Next on our agenda: a weekend in Brighton.

things that are true today

2008-06-30T19:16:00.002Z

- halloumi is possibly the best thing Crete ever gave the world. i love squeaky cheese.

- i love my family. a lot. but they are incredibly frustrating a times.

- on a side note, my 11 year old cousin regularly sends me chain emails about finding god. to say it is odd (and possibly unintentionally offensive) is an understatment.

- i absolutely love to come home after a long day at work and have impromptu sex in the fading daylight.

- i have started another grown up book. the signs are promising

- today i was interviewed for a kids website summer reading campaign. it was sweet to say the least.

- liam's computer game mod just started playing rachmaninov's prelude in c sharp minor. not only is the designer geeky enough build a civ world about the age of imperialism, he has thematically chosen a period approrpiate score when my baby begins a russian campaign to dominate scandinavia. i love it.

the film festival in review

2008-06-29T11:47:00.003Z

So, the EIFF has closed it's doors for another year. And for the first time, I really made the effort to see things and take risks. In the past week I saw 8 things. Some good, some bad and predictably - some so pretentiously aweful they bordered on unwatchable

In case you care, or ever wonder at the random DVDs on discount in the back of your local Blockbuster, here is the complete list

Summer Hours was a mainstream french film trying to find and anglicised audience. The pull of Juliet Binoche and the promise of quiet turmoil were worth the risk (it's about a woman who dies and her villa full of important antiques causes trouble for her children in choosing to keep, sell or give to a museum the objects that hold such history and memory), but it was ultimately hollow and unsatisfying. Although there were some touching and loaded exchanges, the lack of emotional depth to the characters meant I had to wonder if the very frenchy slow tracking shots weren't conveying some unspoken emotion but were actually covering up a lack of plot.

The Wackness a perfectly decent american "indy" with a great Ben Kingsley and a raft of decent performances that tried so hard to be cool it was almost painful. It was very funny and the main kid was quite compelling but so much desperation at being the next great thing made me realise how big a shadow Juno has cast on the small quirky comedy with twisting dialogue. It's going to be hard to surpass.

Good Dick While I was watching it, it had everything - great chemistry, a silly plot, a charming hero, some decent dialogue, and a ludicruous and oddly intriguing premise (boy works in video store. girl addicted to porn. he's interested. odd and crazy wooing period commences leading to moralistic ending and slightly obvious dramatic twist). When it was over it seemed pretty good - decent performances, empassioned artists, an interesting choice. When I got home it made me feel alittle ill and betrayed - sort of like when saturday morning cartoons have huge moral messages tacked on that not only diminish the enjoyment of the product, but also make you feel guilty and a little queasy for having enjoyed something so manipulative and yet unrealistic. But I'm over it now and i guess it's still pretty good - I just wish it had been less heavy handed and more plot driven.

Roger Deakins & Seamus McGarvey - a conversation with a man I didn't realise I had a professional crush on. Roger Deakins is the cinematographer for Assistnation of Jesse James, Jarhead, Shawshank, Kundun, and pretty much every Cohen brothers film since Barton Fink. He is ludicrously talented and hearing him talk about his work was utterly fascinating. Seamus McGarvey was interviewer instead of fellow cinematographer, which is a shame, because his choices in Atonement bore further reflection.

The Kreutzer Sonata Great story (from Tolstoy), great music (from Beethoven), ultimate heart rending tone of betrayal, jealousy and insidious doubt. So why fuck it up by doing high school handheld adlib-ed bullshit with shoddy camera work and terrible performances set in modern day LA? It was truly truly aweful. Liam put it best when he said "it's was just so mentally middle aged". What could have been an operatic epic on relationships (a man believes his younger, hotter musician wife is cheating on him - we never find out) is one man's internal monolgue for two hours and gratuitous flashbacks to their masculine, domineering, passionless and ultimately depressing sex sessions. All I know is if i was her I would have done a hell of a lot more than fuck the violinist.

Warsaw Dark an ambitious, experimental but slightly jumbled thriller set in Poland from Chris Doyle - previously cinematographer to much of the east asian cinematic renaissance including In the Mood for Love etc. While he is on of those eccentric filmmakers who says things that aren't entirely coherent and manage to be incredibly poncey - his attempt to make a jazz sculpture of film where the plot is not longer the point, but an aspect of a riffing session of artistry was really quite interesting - just not easily accessible.

Mermaid was hands down the winner. To say it was a darker, funnier Russian Amelie (as the blurb did) isn't giving it enough credit. The surrealist tone and isolated young heroine fit, but it's truly charming and weird and a bit disturbing even. But the actress was captivating and the plot keeps you guessing. Unlike NightWatch however, I wish I spoke Russin for this one to get the nuances and mis-en-scene of Moscow's billboards and adverts constantly commenting on the narrative.

Faintheart is just like every other indy british film you have ever seen. Just as fun, just as repetitive. Downtrodden hero loses everything, bands together with mates in ludicrous yet charming and funny situation to win back girl, save family and rekindle the human spirit. This has happened with unemployed strippers, up hill/mountains and in Notting Hill. This time: viking battle renactments. While sweet, funny and heartwarming you wonder if the UKFC can't greenlight something with a little more stamina and a less predictable cast off EastEnders and channel 4 sitcoms.

But, in it's favour, the film was a social experiement created through chat groups and forums on MySpace - in interesting concept which just proves putting too many men behind the camera means all you'll get is a long string of cliches which lose potency.

Thus endeth my week. Moral of the story: see fewer british and american pseudo-indy's, amp up the weird foreign and always see the live talks with the masters. I like big, blockbusters and tiny experimentals, but that in betweeny thing the government funds is just unsatifying.