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.
20 July 2009
04 June 2009
someday I won't mind...
that my box spring has bugs living in it.
that the guy who came to fix it sprayed my house full of poison
that the poison has to stay there for DAYS to be effective.
that so far, the bugs aren't even dead.
that on top of this, i am sick and tired, but work is better than home so I just keep going in.
that my sunburn is peeling
that in 1 week i have to do the big press speech/radio show/podcast gauntlet
and i am breaking out from stress and lack of sleep
it's the shittiest thing to be so trapped.
that the guy who came to fix it sprayed my house full of poison
that the poison has to stay there for DAYS to be effective.
that so far, the bugs aren't even dead.
that on top of this, i am sick and tired, but work is better than home so I just keep going in.
that my sunburn is peeling
that in 1 week i have to do the big press speech/radio show/podcast gauntlet
and i am breaking out from stress and lack of sleep
it's the shittiest thing to be so trapped.
19 May 2009
eurovision 2009
Eurovision is a unique cultural anomaly. Anyone outside the EU has probably (read: hopefully) never heard of, much less witnessed, this pop-trash array of madness.
However, it's schlocky camp fun and the earnestness of the international competitors are hard to pass up. Plus, I have had so many people in my life who would adore this American Idol/Hands Across America/Its a Small World circus (in gold lame with flame throwers) I feel some small moral obligation to enjoy it for them (in their ignorant, blissful absence).
Let's do this proper interview style.
What is Eurovision?
The eurovision song contest is an annual european competition. Each member state sends a group/band/singer to perform an original musical number. Then, citizens of each country vote on a winner. (there are lots of knock out rounds and by-laws I won't bore you with)
How is that fun?
You have obviously never witnessed the sort of acts that get on here.
My all time favourite was the 2006 winners from Finland.
Orc/Klingon death metal has never been cooler. The winning song was "Hard Rock, Hallelujah!".
There have also be great instances of 'traditional' dancing including clogs, leiderhosen, ukeleles and all manner of props, costumes and madness anyone with half a soul would be amused by.
This year's showstoppers were from the Ukraine. It was cirque do soleil porn.
I can't seem to get the video to load right, but it's well worth it. Trust me - there is ladder dancing, flame spurts, a shitty drum solo - and oh yes, gyrating Spartans in too-short silver loin clothes. The act starts 44 seconds in (after some of the glorious intro blads)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZJdQESnyu4
though this was our favourite of 09, the fire throwing rappers and electric cello playing girl group were also impressively weird.
What does the winner get?
Usually obscure european fame, but sometimes they become major success stories.
Case and point:
or
or even
She's not european!
There are some minor loopholes for descendants or people with ties to different
countries. It is highly competitive and there is always chat of politics and cheating.
How can something so inane be so political?
Well there is a commonly held belief in the west that all balkans flock together. Scandiavia notoriously votes internally. Tiny countries almost always vote for their bigger, powerful neighbours. Plus, things like the huge UK ex-pat community in Greece can swing the vote. There is much speculation on border hopping (as in driving across the state line) just for the voting too.
It's a big incestuous nightmare wrapped up in gold lame and spandex really.
So how does Eurovision work?
Each country selects their 'act' by voting, concerts, tv performance- what have you (I'll tell you about britains legendary 2009 attempt later.)
Several knock out rounds across Europe lead to the eventual 26 nations performing in the finals - broadcast live on BBC One and other major tv stations across the continent (snippy commentary now by the oh so patriotic Graham Norton).
During the designated portion of the show (usually during a cringe worthy tour of the host country with staged bad jokes that out do the Oscars) any person in any country can call in their vote. Then, a representative from each country casts the top three majority votes for points (12 points for 1st, 10 for 2nd, 8 for 3rd).
They call out each countries vote live on tv (a gruelling hour of bad hair and green screen backdrops of European moments amounting to "Hello, this is Azerbijan calling. Our votes go to..." (and yes, Azerbijan is a country). There are 43 countries in total I think. This part is mindbendingly boring.
Does everyone sing in English then?
Usually yes - most countries think this caters to the widest audience and play for votes by singing in the common tongue. except the french who always sing in french I assume as some weird protest.
Jesus. How long has this madness been going on?
Since the 50s. It was some post-war rekindling european ties initiative. New countries seem to get added all the time. The worst is Portugal who had their 45th year in the competition this year and they have never won.
But then of course, last year Britain came last which was shockingly embarassing.
Oh yeah, what was that about Britains tragic madness this year?
Generally the UK, and much of the west, dont take this too seriously. It's mediocre artists no one has ever heard of singing stupid songs (once it was, I kid you not, a dance number based on airline stewardesses - they even mimed the hand motions.).
But lots of countries send their biggest pop stars. It's like a huge honour. Someone this year was Malta's best selling artist- another was the eastern european opener for the Rolling Stones. It's a big deal.
So, when we came last in 08, something had to be done.
Enter Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Why he cared so much I know not (bruised national pride seems daft in this context), but he launched a nationwide search for the 09 entry - culminating in his own show Eurovision: Your Country Needs You, an American Idol style tv show. It was fucking insane (and unwatchable.).
anyway, so he found some down and out belter who was made a star. She did a huge promo tour, it was the light of his life. She still came fifth, and if I'm honest she has some pipes, but his song totally blew (he even played the piano on stage with her, the toad faced git). It was truly truly weird.
Wow, that doesn't make any sense at all. Eurovision is a kettle of loons
Ah, but that is the beauty of eurovision. Snarky commentary, ridiculous dance numbers, too much swedish beer (and weird foreign candy). it's like the best sleep over party you never had.
Eurovision rocks. i only wish we could institute a state-by-state american version.
However, it's schlocky camp fun and the earnestness of the international competitors are hard to pass up. Plus, I have had so many people in my life who would adore this American Idol/Hands Across America/Its a Small World circus (in gold lame with flame throwers) I feel some small moral obligation to enjoy it for them (in their ignorant, blissful absence).
Let's do this proper interview style.
What is Eurovision?
The eurovision song contest is an annual european competition. Each member state sends a group/band/singer to perform an original musical number. Then, citizens of each country vote on a winner. (there are lots of knock out rounds and by-laws I won't bore you with)
How is that fun?
You have obviously never witnessed the sort of acts that get on here.
My all time favourite was the 2006 winners from Finland.
Orc/Klingon death metal has never been cooler. The winning song was "Hard Rock, Hallelujah!".
There have also be great instances of 'traditional' dancing including clogs, leiderhosen, ukeleles and all manner of props, costumes and madness anyone with half a soul would be amused by.
This year's showstoppers were from the Ukraine. It was cirque do soleil porn.
I can't seem to get the video to load right, but it's well worth it. Trust me - there is ladder dancing, flame spurts, a shitty drum solo - and oh yes, gyrating Spartans in too-short silver loin clothes. The act starts 44 seconds in (after some of the glorious intro blads)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZJdQESnyu4
though this was our favourite of 09, the fire throwing rappers and electric cello playing girl group were also impressively weird.
What does the winner get?
Usually obscure european fame, but sometimes they become major success stories.
Case and point:
or
or even
She's not european!
There are some minor loopholes for descendants or people with ties to different
countries. It is highly competitive and there is always chat of politics and cheating.
How can something so inane be so political?
Well there is a commonly held belief in the west that all balkans flock together. Scandiavia notoriously votes internally. Tiny countries almost always vote for their bigger, powerful neighbours. Plus, things like the huge UK ex-pat community in Greece can swing the vote. There is much speculation on border hopping (as in driving across the state line) just for the voting too.
It's a big incestuous nightmare wrapped up in gold lame and spandex really.
So how does Eurovision work?
Each country selects their 'act' by voting, concerts, tv performance- what have you (I'll tell you about britains legendary 2009 attempt later.)
Several knock out rounds across Europe lead to the eventual 26 nations performing in the finals - broadcast live on BBC One and other major tv stations across the continent (snippy commentary now by the oh so patriotic Graham Norton).
During the designated portion of the show (usually during a cringe worthy tour of the host country with staged bad jokes that out do the Oscars) any person in any country can call in their vote. Then, a representative from each country casts the top three majority votes for points (12 points for 1st, 10 for 2nd, 8 for 3rd).
They call out each countries vote live on tv (a gruelling hour of bad hair and green screen backdrops of European moments amounting to "Hello, this is Azerbijan calling. Our votes go to..." (and yes, Azerbijan is a country). There are 43 countries in total I think. This part is mindbendingly boring.
Does everyone sing in English then?
Usually yes - most countries think this caters to the widest audience and play for votes by singing in the common tongue. except the french who always sing in french I assume as some weird protest.
Jesus. How long has this madness been going on?
Since the 50s. It was some post-war rekindling european ties initiative. New countries seem to get added all the time. The worst is Portugal who had their 45th year in the competition this year and they have never won.
But then of course, last year Britain came last which was shockingly embarassing.
Oh yeah, what was that about Britains tragic madness this year?
Generally the UK, and much of the west, dont take this too seriously. It's mediocre artists no one has ever heard of singing stupid songs (once it was, I kid you not, a dance number based on airline stewardesses - they even mimed the hand motions.).
But lots of countries send their biggest pop stars. It's like a huge honour. Someone this year was Malta's best selling artist- another was the eastern european opener for the Rolling Stones. It's a big deal.
So, when we came last in 08, something had to be done.
Enter Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Why he cared so much I know not (bruised national pride seems daft in this context), but he launched a nationwide search for the 09 entry - culminating in his own show Eurovision: Your Country Needs You, an American Idol style tv show. It was fucking insane (and unwatchable.).
anyway, so he found some down and out belter who was made a star. She did a huge promo tour, it was the light of his life. She still came fifth, and if I'm honest she has some pipes, but his song totally blew (he even played the piano on stage with her, the toad faced git). It was truly truly weird.
Wow, that doesn't make any sense at all. Eurovision is a kettle of loons
Ah, but that is the beauty of eurovision. Snarky commentary, ridiculous dance numbers, too much swedish beer (and weird foreign candy). it's like the best sleep over party you never had.
Eurovision rocks. i only wish we could institute a state-by-state american version.
06 May 2009
i know i am sick when i see stars just from standing up.
when i snap at someone looking at me askance.
when i have horrible daydreams about my neighbours because they didn't sort the mail out by apartment.
when my mouth takes like a peach that's gone off.
when my middle is hard and swollen and my outsides are soggy and limp.
the worst bit is, my stress levels are up so my immune system is at an all time low. exactly when i can't afford the time away from the office is when it all comes crashing down. and on top of the sinus headache, this morning i woke up with cramps.
sick+pms=hell.
when i snap at someone looking at me askance.
when i have horrible daydreams about my neighbours because they didn't sort the mail out by apartment.
when my mouth takes like a peach that's gone off.
when my middle is hard and swollen and my outsides are soggy and limp.
the worst bit is, my stress levels are up so my immune system is at an all time low. exactly when i can't afford the time away from the office is when it all comes crashing down. and on top of the sinus headache, this morning i woke up with cramps.
sick+pms=hell.
04 May 2009
Sex is better than any drug
I am great in bed.
When most people classify themselves as good in bed, they usually mean to intimate they are skilled at pleasuring their partner. That somehow, if you were in a bizarre situation where you must chose a sexual partner from a line up, they should rank higher than the next dude because of experience. I think it's supposed to be a turn on, since it's unlikely to be a fact based on unbiased scientific observation.
This is not at all what I mean.
I am great in bed. Namely, because I am completely and utterly myself. Having sex is like the absolute pinnacle of life somehow (and not in the middle school film strip way teachers mean, though it can be that too I guess. Me, I use condoms.). I am wholly connected to my body, this moment, this planet. I am nothing but the experience. I am euphoric. I am the best version of me there is.
Having an orgasm is the only instance where nothing else exists. No worries, no thoughts, not even a body to be self conscious about. Suddenly it's everything and nothing. Huge and unspeakable. Awe inspiring and mind blowing. Limitless and clear. Like drowning, but more fleeting.
I hope this is what being in space feels like. In my image laden mind, it is what I wish being in a star trek transporter beam is like - everywhere and nowhere, with lots of sparkly tingly world-swallowing calm.
But, this all encompassing intimate release comes with some draw backs (for other people).
It means I can be selfish in bed sometimes. 8 years of doing it on my own before I cracked the seal means I know what I am doing and can be slightly, ahem, direct.
It is insanely addictive and can become a hobby more than an occasional pleasantry.
It also means every neighbour I have ever had hates my guts.
Absolute release and perfect zen freedom, does not come with a mute button.
And it is fucking loud sometimes. Like screaming. You should try it sometime, it's the most amazing feeling.
(as a side note, I am incredibly self conscious when visiting friends and relatives. If I have ever had sex while you are within half a mile, I am bound to behave by a combination of religious shame and emotional guilt (and the grossness). Don't be afraid. But do note, this is also why I am always crabby and intolerant at social gatherings of longer than 3 days. I'm in withdrawl.)
Anyway, my point was, this full body-less experience that I think is what the milky way would feel if it had feelings (and vocal chords), is just sort of part of the deal.
I'm not giving up my 30 second interludes of pure bliss - I have to deal with the rest of the world as soon as I come to. Not for crabby old ladies or your stupid dog. Leave me the fuck alone and buy ear plugs. I'll just pretend it never happened anyway.
But i am not so cold hearted as all that. I do feel bad about it. I do consciously take notice when the neighbours are out, and always go to bed early if I need attention. I am careful.
Which brings us to last night.
We'd had a fight. We made up. In the wee hours of the morning, it turns into make up sex all fumbling in the dark. And just as I was full throttle and seeing stars (for the first time in A WEEK mind you), I started roaring like a banshee. Not on purpose, but then, not entirely un-on-purpose as releasing inhibitions includes any regard for other human life.
Looking back on it, I'm pretty sure he leaned in closer in a conspiratorial whisper, thinking we'd both giggle and snuggle all connected in this accidental faux pas.
But the second the "shhhh" shattered my beautifully unconscious mind I was many things, but not assuaged and and certainly no longer sexy. Mostly angry, hurt, horrified, ashamed, guilty, dirty and betrayed (I've had all day to think about it).
I instantly shoved him away and started sobbing. I have never felt so disgusting.
I have also never realised quite how big a deal it is for me. To be me. To be accepted. To be allowed to let go and yet feel so connected. To have someone love me just as I am (embarrassing as that can be) and then to feel like it was ripped away from me.
It was a complete misunderstanding, and we're fine now. But part of me is still shocked at how raw I was. I guess being that open, intense sorrow is as intoxicating as intense pleasure.
But it was fucking weird. And from now on, I am keeping sex like that for before midnight when it can bother nobody (much) and I can scream til the cows come home, just the way we both like it.
When most people classify themselves as good in bed, they usually mean to intimate they are skilled at pleasuring their partner. That somehow, if you were in a bizarre situation where you must chose a sexual partner from a line up, they should rank higher than the next dude because of experience. I think it's supposed to be a turn on, since it's unlikely to be a fact based on unbiased scientific observation.
This is not at all what I mean.
I am great in bed. Namely, because I am completely and utterly myself. Having sex is like the absolute pinnacle of life somehow (and not in the middle school film strip way teachers mean, though it can be that too I guess. Me, I use condoms.). I am wholly connected to my body, this moment, this planet. I am nothing but the experience. I am euphoric. I am the best version of me there is.
Having an orgasm is the only instance where nothing else exists. No worries, no thoughts, not even a body to be self conscious about. Suddenly it's everything and nothing. Huge and unspeakable. Awe inspiring and mind blowing. Limitless and clear. Like drowning, but more fleeting.
I hope this is what being in space feels like. In my image laden mind, it is what I wish being in a star trek transporter beam is like - everywhere and nowhere, with lots of sparkly tingly world-swallowing calm.
But, this all encompassing intimate release comes with some draw backs (for other people).
It means I can be selfish in bed sometimes. 8 years of doing it on my own before I cracked the seal means I know what I am doing and can be slightly, ahem, direct.
It is insanely addictive and can become a hobby more than an occasional pleasantry.
It also means every neighbour I have ever had hates my guts.
Absolute release and perfect zen freedom, does not come with a mute button.
And it is fucking loud sometimes. Like screaming. You should try it sometime, it's the most amazing feeling.
(as a side note, I am incredibly self conscious when visiting friends and relatives. If I have ever had sex while you are within half a mile, I am bound to behave by a combination of religious shame and emotional guilt (and the grossness). Don't be afraid. But do note, this is also why I am always crabby and intolerant at social gatherings of longer than 3 days. I'm in withdrawl.)
Anyway, my point was, this full body-less experience that I think is what the milky way would feel if it had feelings (and vocal chords), is just sort of part of the deal.
I'm not giving up my 30 second interludes of pure bliss - I have to deal with the rest of the world as soon as I come to. Not for crabby old ladies or your stupid dog. Leave me the fuck alone and buy ear plugs. I'll just pretend it never happened anyway.
But i am not so cold hearted as all that. I do feel bad about it. I do consciously take notice when the neighbours are out, and always go to bed early if I need attention. I am careful.
Which brings us to last night.
We'd had a fight. We made up. In the wee hours of the morning, it turns into make up sex all fumbling in the dark. And just as I was full throttle and seeing stars (for the first time in A WEEK mind you), I started roaring like a banshee. Not on purpose, but then, not entirely un-on-purpose as releasing inhibitions includes any regard for other human life.
Looking back on it, I'm pretty sure he leaned in closer in a conspiratorial whisper, thinking we'd both giggle and snuggle all connected in this accidental faux pas.
But the second the "shhhh" shattered my beautifully unconscious mind I was many things, but not assuaged and and certainly no longer sexy. Mostly angry, hurt, horrified, ashamed, guilty, dirty and betrayed (I've had all day to think about it).
I instantly shoved him away and started sobbing. I have never felt so disgusting.
I have also never realised quite how big a deal it is for me. To be me. To be accepted. To be allowed to let go and yet feel so connected. To have someone love me just as I am (embarrassing as that can be) and then to feel like it was ripped away from me.
It was a complete misunderstanding, and we're fine now. But part of me is still shocked at how raw I was. I guess being that open, intense sorrow is as intoxicating as intense pleasure.
But it was fucking weird. And from now on, I am keeping sex like that for before midnight when it can bother nobody (much) and I can scream til the cows come home, just the way we both like it.
28 April 2009
There is a lot to say.
I am conscious I still haven't told you about our weekend excursion to the beautiful Stockholm.
Or how we are changing our whole world, one relationship at a time.
or how I am swamped and broken from work and not really sure I can do this any more.
or how i went to an old school house party last weekend for the first time in years, stayed out til dawn (2am is waaaaaaaay past my bedtime), and caught up with friends I adore (it was for a friend who was recently nominated for the Carnegie medal!)
The thing is, everytime I mean to write, I get swamped with guilt and overwhelmed with all the things I "need" to record and give up until I have the time and energy to do it justice.
I hate to break it to you, but I am starting to think that time might not come. Not now spring is snowballing into summer and festival season is already breathing down my neck.
BUT, I have just booked a long weekend to visit my dad in Ireland and am scheduling a whole two week holiday for July to properly rest and relax (is that what normal people do on vacation?). I cannot wait.
Though the sadness that tinges a life where you live weekend to weekend is a bit unsavoury for the likes of me. It's finally time.
Anyway, things could be way worse. I am only tired, not starving or depressed or mugged. But yeah, I guess I don't want to forget this. It's a bit rubbish and I want to end this cycle before it engulfs my sanity.
I am conscious I still haven't told you about our weekend excursion to the beautiful Stockholm.
Or how we are changing our whole world, one relationship at a time.
or how I am swamped and broken from work and not really sure I can do this any more.
or how i went to an old school house party last weekend for the first time in years, stayed out til dawn (2am is waaaaaaaay past my bedtime), and caught up with friends I adore (it was for a friend who was recently nominated for the Carnegie medal!)
The thing is, everytime I mean to write, I get swamped with guilt and overwhelmed with all the things I "need" to record and give up until I have the time and energy to do it justice.
I hate to break it to you, but I am starting to think that time might not come. Not now spring is snowballing into summer and festival season is already breathing down my neck.
BUT, I have just booked a long weekend to visit my dad in Ireland and am scheduling a whole two week holiday for July to properly rest and relax (is that what normal people do on vacation?). I cannot wait.
Though the sadness that tinges a life where you live weekend to weekend is a bit unsavoury for the likes of me. It's finally time.
Anyway, things could be way worse. I am only tired, not starving or depressed or mugged. But yeah, I guess I don't want to forget this. It's a bit rubbish and I want to end this cycle before it engulfs my sanity.
17 April 2009
tide and time
sometimes I have these minor revalations that change everything. Or at least, they change how I look at things, which subsequently effects everything else in my world.
Like realising I don't like candy. Once the high is gone I feel sick, and it's just not worth it.
Or walking down the cherry blossom streets and realising my melancholy joy is the feeling of breaking up. Letting go. Because I know soon I will be leaving this town, everything that makes me smile feels like the last time.
Last weekend we had one. For the long easter weekend, we went to the sea. It's 7 minute train ride from the centre of town. Something we do quite a lot actually- but usually ad hoc and just for a little while. This was systematic excursion involving a picnic, a 7 mile shorline hike and discovering a mosterous and fascinating dead seal.
While the seal carcass - which was mostly flubber and skeleton - was freaking sweet (and gross), it's not really my point.
The molecular epihpany was that we are both shore people. I've always loved the water. As a kid I romanticised it as my dad's selkie genes. But being by the water is a sure fire way to feel alive. No matter how often, how dirty, even industrial wastelands prove enlightening.
So we decided. we are going to live on the water. On the coast. On a big wide piece of water that can engulf, ensnare, and even promise salvation.
Just saying it we both felt the scales fall from our eyes and the weight slip from our shoulders. It's such a funny thing to care about so vicerally. But there you go.
We'll take it small - maybe Brighton or Chicago or San Francisco for artsy urban bike-riding sea fronts. We're not forsaking our way of life yet. It'll be years before we work up to proper shack and shanty cronies who smell of fish guts.
Like realising I don't like candy. Once the high is gone I feel sick, and it's just not worth it.
Or walking down the cherry blossom streets and realising my melancholy joy is the feeling of breaking up. Letting go. Because I know soon I will be leaving this town, everything that makes me smile feels like the last time.
Last weekend we had one. For the long easter weekend, we went to the sea. It's 7 minute train ride from the centre of town. Something we do quite a lot actually- but usually ad hoc and just for a little while. This was systematic excursion involving a picnic, a 7 mile shorline hike and discovering a mosterous and fascinating dead seal.
While the seal carcass - which was mostly flubber and skeleton - was freaking sweet (and gross), it's not really my point.
The molecular epihpany was that we are both shore people. I've always loved the water. As a kid I romanticised it as my dad's selkie genes. But being by the water is a sure fire way to feel alive. No matter how often, how dirty, even industrial wastelands prove enlightening.
So we decided. we are going to live on the water. On the coast. On a big wide piece of water that can engulf, ensnare, and even promise salvation.
Just saying it we both felt the scales fall from our eyes and the weight slip from our shoulders. It's such a funny thing to care about so vicerally. But there you go.
We'll take it small - maybe Brighton or Chicago or San Francisco for artsy urban bike-riding sea fronts. We're not forsaking our way of life yet. It'll be years before we work up to proper shack and shanty cronies who smell of fish guts.
05 April 2009
You should know, I live in the most beautiful city on earth.
it's hard to believe one can forget a fact like that, but when it's so fucking hard most of the time, you'd be surprised how easy it can be to forget.
Liam is away this week, so I have a lot of time on my hands. It's helping me remember.
I find myself doing a lot of wandering and staring out of windows. And man, is there a lot of ground to cover.
yesterday I walked the river valley that cuts through town. rushing water, budding trees, calm peaceful countryside under spanning bridges and beneath georgian townhouses. so tranquil, so yuppie. so freeing.
today, I climbed calton hill - the home of grecian monuments and wild landscapes. the 360 views cover the sea, the volcanic hills beyond town and the heart of the city itself - the gothic spires and monolithic castle. It's truly unbelievable. perched on a bench up there watching the influx of tourists on a sunny morning proved beyond a doubt, it's not just me - everyone who comes here feels like they can fly.
after that I went and saw Juno again.
It was some free charity screening, but it's my movie - our movie. And being home alone, it was really nice to see it and remember how lovely it was of Liam to take me. twice. I always cry. Tears of melancholy joy and profound emotional understanding of what it is to love so deeply, and so stupidly. That's what family is like. Completely unexaplainable.
Anyway, so now I am home.
I have taken to wearing my 5 inch chinese laundry fuck off heels in the house when Liam's not home. I think it's because there is no where else for me to wear them.
It's pretty killer, but also makes me worry if there is a cat-lady shoe equivalent I should be wary of in my old age. I can see a future me decked out like some freakish sunset boulevard hag, strutting the hall in pearls and not much else, prone to sedaris like quips from the neighbours. the worrying part is I don't really care. It's fun. And probably always will be.
it's hard to believe one can forget a fact like that, but when it's so fucking hard most of the time, you'd be surprised how easy it can be to forget.
Liam is away this week, so I have a lot of time on my hands. It's helping me remember.
I find myself doing a lot of wandering and staring out of windows. And man, is there a lot of ground to cover.
yesterday I walked the river valley that cuts through town. rushing water, budding trees, calm peaceful countryside under spanning bridges and beneath georgian townhouses. so tranquil, so yuppie. so freeing.
today, I climbed calton hill - the home of grecian monuments and wild landscapes. the 360 views cover the sea, the volcanic hills beyond town and the heart of the city itself - the gothic spires and monolithic castle. It's truly unbelievable. perched on a bench up there watching the influx of tourists on a sunny morning proved beyond a doubt, it's not just me - everyone who comes here feels like they can fly.
after that I went and saw Juno again.
It was some free charity screening, but it's my movie - our movie. And being home alone, it was really nice to see it and remember how lovely it was of Liam to take me. twice. I always cry. Tears of melancholy joy and profound emotional understanding of what it is to love so deeply, and so stupidly. That's what family is like. Completely unexaplainable.
Anyway, so now I am home.
I have taken to wearing my 5 inch chinese laundry fuck off heels in the house when Liam's not home. I think it's because there is no where else for me to wear them.
It's pretty killer, but also makes me worry if there is a cat-lady shoe equivalent I should be wary of in my old age. I can see a future me decked out like some freakish sunset boulevard hag, strutting the hall in pearls and not much else, prone to sedaris like quips from the neighbours. the worrying part is I don't really care. It's fun. And probably always will be.
22 March 2009
out and about
It is beautiful out.
Despite the depressing work situation, it is positively gorgeous in the world outside. Daffodils, sunshine and the twinkling sound of song birds.
I drove to Perth the other day. It's just over an hour straight north - drive over the firth (one of the biggest suspension bridges in the world), through the Kingdom of Fife, and hang a right at Birnham Wood - the very forest of Macbethian fame.
It was freaking awesome. There were pheasants at the side of the road and mist was blanketing the hills.
Part of me aches for wilderness. I cannot wait to have a few days off at Easter for grass lounging, sea watching and all manner of non-city-ish past times.
In other news: T-minus 3 days until Swedenborg!
Despite the depressing work situation, it is positively gorgeous in the world outside. Daffodils, sunshine and the twinkling sound of song birds.
I drove to Perth the other day. It's just over an hour straight north - drive over the firth (one of the biggest suspension bridges in the world), through the Kingdom of Fife, and hang a right at Birnham Wood - the very forest of Macbethian fame.
It was freaking awesome. There were pheasants at the side of the road and mist was blanketing the hills.
Part of me aches for wilderness. I cannot wait to have a few days off at Easter for grass lounging, sea watching and all manner of non-city-ish past times.
In other news: T-minus 3 days until Swedenborg!
14 March 2009
Sprung
Spring has landed.
Which means two things:
1, my work life is hella mad
2, my spirits and personal life is blossoming with the weather
I think this can be best summerised in today:
Wake up to sunshine at 9am
Liam is having brunch with a friend, so I putter about and do some intensive (for me) WiiFit yoga and boxing action
Take a leisurely shower
Log in remotely to the office and work solidly for almost 4 hours. On a saturday. When it's sunny. And I've already done the chores.
Liam comes home, we have lunch while chipping away at the massive edward gorey puzzle I got him for his birthday - it's been taking up the dining room table for almost a month.
I go for a huge long walk, chai tea latte in my mittened hand, up to the meadows for sunshine and a view of the hills.
Saunter back through town, the main thoroughfare is under construction, so am detoured through the gardens (nee moat) beneath the castle. The daffodils are out, the floral clock is done up and generally the city is waking up to the prospect of daylight for more than 5 hours at a time.
It's fucking amazing.
I always forget how much spring matters. The light, the weather. It's one thing to not wake up groggy and need less vitamins. It's entirely another to regain my libido and ability to do anything more active than lay down. Hallelujah! (Maybe we really should move to Austin.)
Which means two things:
1, my work life is hella mad
2, my spirits and personal life is blossoming with the weather
I think this can be best summerised in today:
Wake up to sunshine at 9am
Liam is having brunch with a friend, so I putter about and do some intensive (for me) WiiFit yoga and boxing action
Take a leisurely shower
Log in remotely to the office and work solidly for almost 4 hours. On a saturday. When it's sunny. And I've already done the chores.
Liam comes home, we have lunch while chipping away at the massive edward gorey puzzle I got him for his birthday - it's been taking up the dining room table for almost a month.
I go for a huge long walk, chai tea latte in my mittened hand, up to the meadows for sunshine and a view of the hills.
Saunter back through town, the main thoroughfare is under construction, so am detoured through the gardens (nee moat) beneath the castle. The daffodils are out, the floral clock is done up and generally the city is waking up to the prospect of daylight for more than 5 hours at a time.
It's fucking amazing.
I always forget how much spring matters. The light, the weather. It's one thing to not wake up groggy and need less vitamins. It's entirely another to regain my libido and ability to do anything more active than lay down. Hallelujah! (Maybe we really should move to Austin.)
07 March 2009
catch up
It's been a while.
Sorry about that. Sometimes I'm so busy trying to survive (or possibly forget) I don't really bother to reflect or report.
Let's review February's highlights:
- I visted my folks for a week. It was pretty much steak, pizza, movies, random philosophical chat, even more random tv and bucket loads of nothing. It was so great.
- while in dear old Okemos, I also had my cousin over for a sleepover. We watched a High School musical knock off about show choir on Nickelodeon. It was hilarious and yet heart warming.
- I also turned 27. I am in my late 20s, which doesn't matter to anyone in my world, since they are all 45 or 15, but it's somehow a bigger thing that the last few have been. To celebrate, my dad took me to the bar and we talked about things. It was really unremarkable and somehow exactly perfect.
- a week back in, the stress and madness are like I never left. I managed to miss out on a lot of drama (it was even in the press) and now I'm playing mad catch up and trying not to burn out.
- but Thursday, was great. In case you live under a rock (read: not professionally involved in childhood literacy) it was World Book Day. A fantastic holiday with very very low expectations. I was the guest speaker at the local dual campus boarding school. I kid you not- girls school, boys school, blazers, head teachers in tweed everything St Trinians and Enid Blyton taught you to wish for. I gave a lecture at both schools to the entirety of their freshman class then MC'ed a book award ceremony after school. I did not stay for their rendition of Merchant of Venice. It was adorable and exhausting. I have never had so much respect for teachers - and never been so disappointed in adults playing up to the stereotypes of single sex education. But, i seem to have gathered a fan club (one kid even asked me for a job after), and it was all happy disney in the end. yay.
So today I'm doing laundry, washing my hair and unpacking the last few boxes to remind myself I have a normal everyday life I've been neglecting of late. It's really quite refreshing.
Sorry about that. Sometimes I'm so busy trying to survive (or possibly forget) I don't really bother to reflect or report.
Let's review February's highlights:
- I visted my folks for a week. It was pretty much steak, pizza, movies, random philosophical chat, even more random tv and bucket loads of nothing. It was so great.
- while in dear old Okemos, I also had my cousin over for a sleepover. We watched a High School musical knock off about show choir on Nickelodeon. It was hilarious and yet heart warming.
- I also turned 27. I am in my late 20s, which doesn't matter to anyone in my world, since they are all 45 or 15, but it's somehow a bigger thing that the last few have been. To celebrate, my dad took me to the bar and we talked about things. It was really unremarkable and somehow exactly perfect.
- a week back in, the stress and madness are like I never left. I managed to miss out on a lot of drama (it was even in the press) and now I'm playing mad catch up and trying not to burn out.
- but Thursday, was great. In case you live under a rock (read: not professionally involved in childhood literacy) it was World Book Day. A fantastic holiday with very very low expectations. I was the guest speaker at the local dual campus boarding school. I kid you not- girls school, boys school, blazers, head teachers in tweed everything St Trinians and Enid Blyton taught you to wish for. I gave a lecture at both schools to the entirety of their freshman class then MC'ed a book award ceremony after school. I did not stay for their rendition of Merchant of Venice. It was adorable and exhausting. I have never had so much respect for teachers - and never been so disappointed in adults playing up to the stereotypes of single sex education. But, i seem to have gathered a fan club (one kid even asked me for a job after), and it was all happy disney in the end. yay.
So today I'm doing laundry, washing my hair and unpacking the last few boxes to remind myself I have a normal everyday life I've been neglecting of late. It's really quite refreshing.
16 February 2009
not quite home
in 25 hours I will be in my parents house.
i cannot wait to be taken care of. but I always worry I look forward to this too much, expect too much, and then am disappointed or guilty or both.
besides, I'm bummed I'm missing Liam's birthday.
i just wish my siblings would be there. otherwise it's just my parents house, a bit on the empty side.
but it's still a hell of a lot better than dodge. i can't wait.
i cannot wait to be taken care of. but I always worry I look forward to this too much, expect too much, and then am disappointed or guilty or both.
besides, I'm bummed I'm missing Liam's birthday.
i just wish my siblings would be there. otherwise it's just my parents house, a bit on the empty side.
but it's still a hell of a lot better than dodge. i can't wait.
10 February 2009
25 things
so, I have been thinking about this facebook cult of list making - a hobby after my own heart - and come to the conclusion mine is only half true.
anything i know my parents, high school cousins, colleagues and prospective employers can read better be.
so, here is an addendum if you like.
1. I really liked my midtwenties. now they are over, i feel like things happened - I happened. I am scared I'll stop being ahead of the curve and accomplished for my age and I don't know what comes next.
2. I generally like having sex any time of day but bedtime.
3. I still watch preschool tv. I sometimes think the happy-hippy simplicity and optimism of toddler television got me through middle and high school more than anything else.
4. I hope my siblings will be my best friends until the day I die.
5. Most of the people I know haven't the faintest clue there is more to me than the prim, careful, press conferencing sweater set chick. Some are aware of the latent comic book reading beer glugger. Very few know the deeply insecure housewife. Or the terrified neurotic. or the swearing nympho. or the adventuress. I keep it that way on purpose. I haven't decided yet if it's something I hope to grow out of - this onion seperatism.
6. I am theoretically bisexual. I find the human body, of both genders, positively seductive. But I have never had the hots for any women I know.
7. Since high schools I've always thought weighing 135 would be about right for me. I have no idea if I'll ever find out, I don't care enough to try.
8. I pick my nose
9. Reading books for a living is making me like them less. It's almost become a chore. I can't wait for it to get good again.
10. I think napping in the sunshine is next to godliness
11. knowing the women i know, my awareness of sexual abuse is so heightened, I am haunted by survivors guilt
12. I kind of like my voice better since I had vocal nodes. It's my own somehow.
13. I get deja vu from my dreams all the time. Often those dreams where I am just doing the laundry or putting away the Christmas decorations are more like premonition vingettes - perfectly staged and played out in my real life a few weeks later - same light, same outfit, same order of socks coming out of the dryer. I still don't know how much I subconciously influence this.
14. I could love anybody. Everyone is lovable after all, with the right information and circumstance and match. I told this to Liam very early in our friendship and I think knowing it was on of the reasons he was willing to risk falling in love with me.
15. I ate toast every morning for 2 years and now I've kind of gone off it. I hope it's a temporary hiatus.
16. I think my brother tells stories better than anyone. I still remember the day in high school that I realised this fact, and for a long time it made me hesitant to pipe up, since i'd never be as good.
17. I have old lady bones, I can feel a storm coming. Usually, if I can, I conveniently take up running for about an hour when a big one is on it's way. there is nothing like pounding down the street and the sky opens above you and it's just you, the rain and the road. I usually pretend I didn't know it would happen as people tend to think you're mad for only running to get drenched. But it's so cathardic.
18. I have a hole in my brain function scan from an accident when we were kids. (It's my sisters fault.) But since it's my memory that's effected, I even remember it wrong.
19 I really, really wish I had faith sometimes. It sometimes seems like life would be better for me if I could be religious.
20. I have an incredibly crass sense of humour, but I am extremely private about it. so much so I hate it when people tell bad jokes at parties.
21. I love spending sunny afternoons in empty galleries. I hate the rushing claustrophobia of crowded museums.
22. i can't think of a single thing I eat regularly these days that I would have been able to stomach as a kid, or even in college. I am secretly glad the one thing I'll take back with me when I leave europe is an adventurous palette.
23. i am not sure the feeling of homesickness i have for my siblings will ever go away.
24. i talk in weird voices and badly constructed wordisms all the time. i have to catch myself from up ending the english language in public quite a lot.
25. i love fire.
anything i know my parents, high school cousins, colleagues and prospective employers can read better be.
so, here is an addendum if you like.
1. I really liked my midtwenties. now they are over, i feel like things happened - I happened. I am scared I'll stop being ahead of the curve and accomplished for my age and I don't know what comes next.
2. I generally like having sex any time of day but bedtime.
3. I still watch preschool tv. I sometimes think the happy-hippy simplicity and optimism of toddler television got me through middle and high school more than anything else.
4. I hope my siblings will be my best friends until the day I die.
5. Most of the people I know haven't the faintest clue there is more to me than the prim, careful, press conferencing sweater set chick. Some are aware of the latent comic book reading beer glugger. Very few know the deeply insecure housewife. Or the terrified neurotic. or the swearing nympho. or the adventuress. I keep it that way on purpose. I haven't decided yet if it's something I hope to grow out of - this onion seperatism.
6. I am theoretically bisexual. I find the human body, of both genders, positively seductive. But I have never had the hots for any women I know.
7. Since high schools I've always thought weighing 135 would be about right for me. I have no idea if I'll ever find out, I don't care enough to try.
8. I pick my nose
9. Reading books for a living is making me like them less. It's almost become a chore. I can't wait for it to get good again.
10. I think napping in the sunshine is next to godliness
11. knowing the women i know, my awareness of sexual abuse is so heightened, I am haunted by survivors guilt
12. I kind of like my voice better since I had vocal nodes. It's my own somehow.
13. I get deja vu from my dreams all the time. Often those dreams where I am just doing the laundry or putting away the Christmas decorations are more like premonition vingettes - perfectly staged and played out in my real life a few weeks later - same light, same outfit, same order of socks coming out of the dryer. I still don't know how much I subconciously influence this.
14. I could love anybody. Everyone is lovable after all, with the right information and circumstance and match. I told this to Liam very early in our friendship and I think knowing it was on of the reasons he was willing to risk falling in love with me.
15. I ate toast every morning for 2 years and now I've kind of gone off it. I hope it's a temporary hiatus.
16. I think my brother tells stories better than anyone. I still remember the day in high school that I realised this fact, and for a long time it made me hesitant to pipe up, since i'd never be as good.
17. I have old lady bones, I can feel a storm coming. Usually, if I can, I conveniently take up running for about an hour when a big one is on it's way. there is nothing like pounding down the street and the sky opens above you and it's just you, the rain and the road. I usually pretend I didn't know it would happen as people tend to think you're mad for only running to get drenched. But it's so cathardic.
18. I have a hole in my brain function scan from an accident when we were kids. (It's my sisters fault.) But since it's my memory that's effected, I even remember it wrong.
19 I really, really wish I had faith sometimes. It sometimes seems like life would be better for me if I could be religious.
20. I have an incredibly crass sense of humour, but I am extremely private about it. so much so I hate it when people tell bad jokes at parties.
21. I love spending sunny afternoons in empty galleries. I hate the rushing claustrophobia of crowded museums.
22. i can't think of a single thing I eat regularly these days that I would have been able to stomach as a kid, or even in college. I am secretly glad the one thing I'll take back with me when I leave europe is an adventurous palette.
23. i am not sure the feeling of homesickness i have for my siblings will ever go away.
24. i talk in weird voices and badly constructed wordisms all the time. i have to catch myself from up ending the english language in public quite a lot.
25. i love fire.
04 February 2009
carpe diem!
Part of me wants to keep this as my own little secret for ever because it makes me so happy - but I am almost physically incapable of containing joyous news.
For my birthday, Liam is taking me away. On a secret vacation. He checked my diary and booked the tickets.
All I know is it's we are flying for an overnight (which means no where beyond Europe) at the end of March. On my birthday I get to know where it is.
Copenhagen?
Florence?
Budapest?
Paris?
Gibraltar?
It's like a fucking movie. If it is nowhere exotic, and just a night in a shitty hostel in the Midlands I'd be happy. Even if the plane gets cancelled and we end up in bed for the weekend I love that he planned this for me.
I love surprises. I love travelling. I love the glamour of being whisked away, especially if it's no where in particular. It's like the best present anyone has ever given me.
And now I'll stop, because I'm even making myself a little nautious with all the enthusiasm.
For my birthday, Liam is taking me away. On a secret vacation. He checked my diary and booked the tickets.
All I know is it's we are flying for an overnight (which means no where beyond Europe) at the end of March. On my birthday I get to know where it is.
Copenhagen?
Florence?
Budapest?
Paris?
Gibraltar?
It's like a fucking movie. If it is nowhere exotic, and just a night in a shitty hostel in the Midlands I'd be happy. Even if the plane gets cancelled and we end up in bed for the weekend I love that he planned this for me.
I love surprises. I love travelling. I love the glamour of being whisked away, especially if it's no where in particular. It's like the best present anyone has ever given me.
And now I'll stop, because I'm even making myself a little nautious with all the enthusiasm.
26 January 2009
Wii lovin gone wrong.
So, it's been a hard year. I've been harping on about it; first how hard it would be, then how hard it is, then (shockingly) how hard it was and continues to have a black-ish cloud over the crawling out of the hardness-type experience.
I didn't really need any evidence of this, but my shiny new Wii Fit thought otherwise.
Last summer, playing at a friends house, I was squite surprisinngly of average weight and right on target for my age (possibly the first time this has been true since middle school). In 6 months I am now more than overweight and the lovely little board cartoon friends of my reckon I've aged about 12 years. It's disgusting.
Now I'm not going to put huge stock into the opinions of a pixelated piggy bank & co, but still. It's a sad day when even your virtual friends think you need to start getting back your life.
I didn't really need any evidence of this, but my shiny new Wii Fit thought otherwise.
Last summer, playing at a friends house, I was squite surprisinngly of average weight and right on target for my age (possibly the first time this has been true since middle school). In 6 months I am now more than overweight and the lovely little board cartoon friends of my reckon I've aged about 12 years. It's disgusting.
Now I'm not going to put huge stock into the opinions of a pixelated piggy bank & co, but still. It's a sad day when even your virtual friends think you need to start getting back your life.
18 January 2009
philosophical conundrum
what if you are loved. loved deeply, honestly and whole-heartedly.
but it's not how you always wanted to be loved?
love is so many things to so many people, can you still be in love and not match? can you defy your expectations? Can you grow with your lover to something akin to your dreams? Is being loved enough? Or is it selfish to expect a specific manifestation of that love?
this is a saturday night couch philosopher one for the ages. i am full of huberis and ennui apparently and just asking for trouble.
but it's not how you always wanted to be loved?
love is so many things to so many people, can you still be in love and not match? can you defy your expectations? Can you grow with your lover to something akin to your dreams? Is being loved enough? Or is it selfish to expect a specific manifestation of that love?
this is a saturday night couch philosopher one for the ages. i am full of huberis and ennui apparently and just asking for trouble.
16 January 2009
okay
for the first time in a long time I feel satisfied.
a tiny little piece of me is worried I'll lose sight of the bigger ennui, but i am just so happy to be alive. to be me. to be living this life. it's like falling in love all over again.
here are good things that happened this week:
- i went out with my friends. for the first time in I dont know how long. And yes, most of my friends are kids lit people - because we all live the job - but it was just so good to suck long islands and relax. I forgot what it was like to unwind after work instead of rushing home to put on the dinner.
- i watched enchanted. (we bought it with our christmas money.) not only do I love the ceaseless, unabashed joy of ironic disney - but the fact Liam loves it as much as I do is like some secret miracle. who could have guessed?
- i was interviewed at parliament by a bunch of seventh graders for their local radio station. it was amazing. they were so professional, but also so young and hopeful and although it was weird to be seen as that important, it also felt great to be involved and engaged and matter.
- i ate 5 fruit and veg every day. it helps more than you would think.
- i bought my plane ticket. i am going to visit my parents. just for a time-out. no hooplah, just naps. i cannot wait - even though i feel a bit guilty leaving liam here since he can't take time off to come too. (i think most of the guilt is because i am relieved i don't need ot look after him in the weirdness of Okemos, I can just let go and be looked after myself)
- i started a book group. it may come to nothing, but i like having things to look forward to. and my sister is the only person I know who loves reading like I do. it's one of the few emotions I captured well back on d-x I still miss it a little when I think of those entries.
- i bought a shitty, cheap chandelier- and when I say chandelier I mean dangly plastic-crystal in twirly spirals light bulb cover - for the front hall. it cheers me up no end.
- i worked my ass off. not because i should have or I had deadlines. but I had work I wanted to do, so I worked 10, 11 hour days to do it. And when I was done, I left. It feels purposeful to choose. And also, to fight now to make room for my vacation home means I am working to my timeline, my world - instead of the other way around - and it is so liberating.
so yeah, it's not so bad.
a tiny little piece of me is worried I'll lose sight of the bigger ennui, but i am just so happy to be alive. to be me. to be living this life. it's like falling in love all over again.
here are good things that happened this week:
- i went out with my friends. for the first time in I dont know how long. And yes, most of my friends are kids lit people - because we all live the job - but it was just so good to suck long islands and relax. I forgot what it was like to unwind after work instead of rushing home to put on the dinner.
- i watched enchanted. (we bought it with our christmas money.) not only do I love the ceaseless, unabashed joy of ironic disney - but the fact Liam loves it as much as I do is like some secret miracle. who could have guessed?
- i was interviewed at parliament by a bunch of seventh graders for their local radio station. it was amazing. they were so professional, but also so young and hopeful and although it was weird to be seen as that important, it also felt great to be involved and engaged and matter.
- i ate 5 fruit and veg every day. it helps more than you would think.
- i bought my plane ticket. i am going to visit my parents. just for a time-out. no hooplah, just naps. i cannot wait - even though i feel a bit guilty leaving liam here since he can't take time off to come too. (i think most of the guilt is because i am relieved i don't need ot look after him in the weirdness of Okemos, I can just let go and be looked after myself)
- i started a book group. it may come to nothing, but i like having things to look forward to. and my sister is the only person I know who loves reading like I do. it's one of the few emotions I captured well back on d-x I still miss it a little when I think of those entries.
- i bought a shitty, cheap chandelier- and when I say chandelier I mean dangly plastic-crystal in twirly spirals light bulb cover - for the front hall. it cheers me up no end.
- i worked my ass off. not because i should have or I had deadlines. but I had work I wanted to do, so I worked 10, 11 hour days to do it. And when I was done, I left. It feels purposeful to choose. And also, to fight now to make room for my vacation home means I am working to my timeline, my world - instead of the other way around - and it is so liberating.
so yeah, it's not so bad.
09 January 2009
04 January 2009
my year
I have been wanting to make a retrospective. To put into writing all the things that have happened, because I didn't record them as they happened, and I don't want to lose them in my somewhat unpredictable memory (I remember and can name every kid from my kindergarden class, but I have no clue what I did last Thursday. It's a crazy vortex.)
But, regardless, I am going to try:
January
The year started out hard. I was so homesick. So tired. So scared. Not unlike most light deprived winter doldrums, but somehow more depressing in their monotony over the years. Plus, I was really worried about my sister, jealous of my siblings high life in the sun together and starting to really hate my job.
highlight: I honestly don't remember one.
lowlight: the mindbending numbness
February
I never hate February as much as everyone else, because i have a birthday to look forward to and it's so short I make it feel hopeful, racing towards spring.
This year was no different, and the sadness lifted a little because it was a month full of family. My mom came to visit for a week, and then we went to Kent to meet all of Liam's gang for the first time. I was sorry I spent so much time fighting with my mom and being so angry, but I think we both said things we meant and it's helped us in the long run.
highlight: playing on the beach with my mom is probably tied with Liam taking me to the movies for a surprise valentines.
lowlight: being ridiculously scared of Liam's sister at first (she's a fashion designer who looks like gwenyth paltrow. you try not being intimidated of her)
March
I don't remember March. It's always hard writing the programme and keeping shit together at work this time of year, and the cold wet spring didn't do much to help.
I re-read my unremarkable March entries in case I was forgetting something, but other than a friend getting engaged, there wasn't much of consequence going on.
highlight: n/a
lowlight: all of it?
April
I spent April being somewhere else. I took up hobbies briefly, I made lunch dates, we went on field trips. I tried to jump start my life with activity to make it feel real again. Some helped, some didn't. Being in Italy for work still felt glamorous, but also mindbendingly lonely. And hiking trips in the country over Easter were awesome, which I hope we get around to reintegrating into our lives again soon.
highlight: picnicking in the hills on Easter - though feeding breadcrumbs to the robin perched in our arbor had a panic stricken moment when we thought it might choke on our errant dorito fleck. God forbid, we all know that triangular wedged in the neck sensation is a bitch.
lowlight: the tired.
May
I was angry. Sick, tired and angry. I'd lost the will to fight the doctors anymore, I'd lost any interest in sex or food. I was wasting away. I kept fighting, and it did subside, but I still feel like it's lurking in there, like a dormant virus.
Of course, there were also beautiful things. Liam was so wonderful. I spent much of my time distracting myself with fun excursions, cute animals and good tv. Which all make for happy membories, if not miracle cures.
highlight: trying anyway
lowlight: hating everything, and losing faith in the medical profession
June
June always felt like the beginning of the end. For the last year, this was the beginning of the gauntlet season. One we knew would test our sanity with social engagements, and absolutely ensure we went broke. It was going to be fun, but it was also a form of hell.
highlight: getting good press and feeling like I'd arrived
lowlight: waiting for the storm, and realising I would had to leave Edinburgh for good soon.
July
It started with the Queen, and ended with my Festival eminent. It included the opening days of the campaign, and also some unexpected moments I still cherish.
highlight: our Dalmeny beach carpe diem on what turned out to be the one hot day of the year
lowlight: the grueling schedule
August
If anything happened in August that wasn't the Festival, I'm not sure I would even have noticed much less taken part. It's odd that 18 days can take up a whole month, but I suppose when I clocked over 200 hours in those two weeks, it gives some perspective. Liams mom also came to visit and I had to fire some poor, stupid college kid.
highlight: actually spending time with kids who are passionate (even when they hate my choices), and feeling revitalised and full of purpose.
lowlight: the rain. the constant, sad rain
September
A blur of tired and high emotions. A complete mind boggling roller coaster that I'll probably discuss with my therapist in my midlife crisis.
highlight: Kate & Jimmy
lowlight: having to keep going
October
By now, I just wanted to stop the world and get off. I was running on empty, blind, and getting angrier by the day.
London was a blast, the 3rd wedding was beautiful, but my heart wasn't in it anymore and I was bereft.
highlight: dancing alone, free and wild, to irish fiddle music at Leeds Castle
lowlight: giving up
November
Starting out on a sunny weekend in Chicago with people I love was awesome. Spending 2 weeks in Australia was like a dream come true. But by now, I was so tired and empty it felt hollow and I was too resentful of nothing in particular to give it my all, something I'll probably come to regret, even if I didn't have a choice.
highlight: there were so many. right now, probably hanging out on Navy Pier with jennie and my folks
lowlight: never being home.
December
Oh, and did I mention through all of this we were moving? we signed the paperwork 1 december. Weeks of packing and mess made for a hell of a start.
But mostly this was the month of fighting. every day, all the time. The stress of it all, the unending work demands, the resentment at my absence and my hatred of the confounding pressures. All the time, over everything we were tearing each other apart, both I think just waiting for what had promised to be the most delightful, celebratory period was now just a pile of reasons we were poor, tired, crabby and felt alone. It was truly aweful.
We're getting there now. It's been hard what with Liam trying to find work, me going off the pill (mt hormones are more wacked out than they were in middle school), Christmas, moving, family and all the resentment that's invisibly built up while we were trying to get on with things over the summer and fall.
But we've arrived now. It's the beginning of a new life - and we're making plans. Together. And that's what matters.
I think the moral of the story is I shouldn't be a rock star. I don't care how much I love travelling, how capable of playing the world I am or how much I enjoy running the circuit and media circus - I want time off. I want to be close to my family. And I have a god given right to nap. And these are worth more than any amount of full page newspaper articles and first class train tickets. I want more than that. For the first time in my life I don't want to be my job. And I sure as hell am not taking any more work trips or letting anyone get married until we have a good proper break to get our own life back in order first. Things have gone to hell in a handbasket and its high time I started building my world again instead of letting it crumble around me.
Happy New Year.
But, regardless, I am going to try:
January
The year started out hard. I was so homesick. So tired. So scared. Not unlike most light deprived winter doldrums, but somehow more depressing in their monotony over the years. Plus, I was really worried about my sister, jealous of my siblings high life in the sun together and starting to really hate my job.
highlight: I honestly don't remember one.
lowlight: the mindbending numbness
February
I never hate February as much as everyone else, because i have a birthday to look forward to and it's so short I make it feel hopeful, racing towards spring.
This year was no different, and the sadness lifted a little because it was a month full of family. My mom came to visit for a week, and then we went to Kent to meet all of Liam's gang for the first time. I was sorry I spent so much time fighting with my mom and being so angry, but I think we both said things we meant and it's helped us in the long run.
highlight: playing on the beach with my mom is probably tied with Liam taking me to the movies for a surprise valentines.
lowlight: being ridiculously scared of Liam's sister at first (she's a fashion designer who looks like gwenyth paltrow. you try not being intimidated of her)
March
I don't remember March. It's always hard writing the programme and keeping shit together at work this time of year, and the cold wet spring didn't do much to help.
I re-read my unremarkable March entries in case I was forgetting something, but other than a friend getting engaged, there wasn't much of consequence going on.
highlight: n/a
lowlight: all of it?
April
I spent April being somewhere else. I took up hobbies briefly, I made lunch dates, we went on field trips. I tried to jump start my life with activity to make it feel real again. Some helped, some didn't. Being in Italy for work still felt glamorous, but also mindbendingly lonely. And hiking trips in the country over Easter were awesome, which I hope we get around to reintegrating into our lives again soon.
highlight: picnicking in the hills on Easter - though feeding breadcrumbs to the robin perched in our arbor had a panic stricken moment when we thought it might choke on our errant dorito fleck. God forbid, we all know that triangular wedged in the neck sensation is a bitch.
lowlight: the tired.
May
I was angry. Sick, tired and angry. I'd lost the will to fight the doctors anymore, I'd lost any interest in sex or food. I was wasting away. I kept fighting, and it did subside, but I still feel like it's lurking in there, like a dormant virus.
Of course, there were also beautiful things. Liam was so wonderful. I spent much of my time distracting myself with fun excursions, cute animals and good tv. Which all make for happy membories, if not miracle cures.
highlight: trying anyway
lowlight: hating everything, and losing faith in the medical profession
June
June always felt like the beginning of the end. For the last year, this was the beginning of the gauntlet season. One we knew would test our sanity with social engagements, and absolutely ensure we went broke. It was going to be fun, but it was also a form of hell.
highlight: getting good press and feeling like I'd arrived
lowlight: waiting for the storm, and realising I would had to leave Edinburgh for good soon.
July
It started with the Queen, and ended with my Festival eminent. It included the opening days of the campaign, and also some unexpected moments I still cherish.
highlight: our Dalmeny beach carpe diem on what turned out to be the one hot day of the year
lowlight: the grueling schedule
August
If anything happened in August that wasn't the Festival, I'm not sure I would even have noticed much less taken part. It's odd that 18 days can take up a whole month, but I suppose when I clocked over 200 hours in those two weeks, it gives some perspective. Liams mom also came to visit and I had to fire some poor, stupid college kid.
highlight: actually spending time with kids who are passionate (even when they hate my choices), and feeling revitalised and full of purpose.
lowlight: the rain. the constant, sad rain
September
A blur of tired and high emotions. A complete mind boggling roller coaster that I'll probably discuss with my therapist in my midlife crisis.
highlight: Kate & Jimmy
lowlight: having to keep going
October
By now, I just wanted to stop the world and get off. I was running on empty, blind, and getting angrier by the day.
London was a blast, the 3rd wedding was beautiful, but my heart wasn't in it anymore and I was bereft.
highlight: dancing alone, free and wild, to irish fiddle music at Leeds Castle
lowlight: giving up
November
Starting out on a sunny weekend in Chicago with people I love was awesome. Spending 2 weeks in Australia was like a dream come true. But by now, I was so tired and empty it felt hollow and I was too resentful of nothing in particular to give it my all, something I'll probably come to regret, even if I didn't have a choice.
highlight: there were so many. right now, probably hanging out on Navy Pier with jennie and my folks
lowlight: never being home.
December
Oh, and did I mention through all of this we were moving? we signed the paperwork 1 december. Weeks of packing and mess made for a hell of a start.
But mostly this was the month of fighting. every day, all the time. The stress of it all, the unending work demands, the resentment at my absence and my hatred of the confounding pressures. All the time, over everything we were tearing each other apart, both I think just waiting for what had promised to be the most delightful, celebratory period was now just a pile of reasons we were poor, tired, crabby and felt alone. It was truly aweful.
We're getting there now. It's been hard what with Liam trying to find work, me going off the pill (mt hormones are more wacked out than they were in middle school), Christmas, moving, family and all the resentment that's invisibly built up while we were trying to get on with things over the summer and fall.
But we've arrived now. It's the beginning of a new life - and we're making plans. Together. And that's what matters.
I think the moral of the story is I shouldn't be a rock star. I don't care how much I love travelling, how capable of playing the world I am or how much I enjoy running the circuit and media circus - I want time off. I want to be close to my family. And I have a god given right to nap. And these are worth more than any amount of full page newspaper articles and first class train tickets. I want more than that. For the first time in my life I don't want to be my job. And I sure as hell am not taking any more work trips or letting anyone get married until we have a good proper break to get our own life back in order first. Things have gone to hell in a handbasket and its high time I started building my world again instead of letting it crumble around me.
Happy New Year.
01 January 2009
now
last night, in the climax of our fight about everything and nothing, I said
"I want to celebrate. To cherish the good in this world. To be happy, just for a minute. To remember how lucky we are and be hopeful. To feel wonder. To be a part of something bigger"
And as soon as I said it, I knew I didn't mean new years or fireworks or champagne. I meant life.
Funny how one minute makes everything shiny again.
"I want to celebrate. To cherish the good in this world. To be happy, just for a minute. To remember how lucky we are and be hopeful. To feel wonder. To be a part of something bigger"
And as soon as I said it, I knew I didn't mean new years or fireworks or champagne. I meant life.
Funny how one minute makes everything shiny again.
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