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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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

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.

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

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/#.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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!