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And it's only a half day as well. Score! To be fair, this entire week has been a wash for me. I was only in for a couple hours on Monday, not at all on Tuesday, in on Wednesday but I didn't do much and I left early, in on Thursday but I really didn't do anything at all, and today is just a half day and then that's it. In fact this week has been such a waste that I'm going to have to take some work home with me to do at my leisure over the break, which isn't really a problem since most people I know are gone and I'm going to be squirreled up in my house until my relatives arrive.
I was thinking to myself this morning how strange it is, that in New York, for example, everyone comes back to the city for the holidays. It's awash with light and festivities and activities. The city hums and buzzes with a glowing warmth this time of year.
London is a ghost town.
Everyone leaves to go someplace else. And the city doesn't put on much of a holiday show. Perhaps a self fulfilling sort of prophecy. Still, it's a bit of a shame. Even though it's not my holiday, I've always enjoyed the Christmas lights and hubbub that surround it.
P, who will now be known as Mr.Cheese, has just left my place. Such an interesting evening. In more ways than I care to recount. Entirely possible that he will come across this place (hello) as I basically told him I have it, which I don't usually ever do. Seems fair though, considering I don't think I need to worry about how things will go between us anymore, and our conversation in three meetings has never been stunted or not open. Still, finding someones multi-month dialogue of all the shit they've been involved in and been going through can be a bit overwhelming. I'd look though. Just because I'm like that. I admire people who have the willpower not to look at things sometimes. Anyway, getting sidetracked.
As it turns out, Mr.Cheese is interested in someone else he just met. Not unusual. Or, given the afore mentioned unease, entirely unexpected. Disappointing, sure. But.. it's fine. It's not that it was a weird or uncomfortable evening. Just the opposite, despite the revelation. So he'll either stick around and settle into an unusual friendship with me as Mr.Ball has done, or he'll disappear altogether. Only time will tell. Still, given what was said, a truly curious evening indeed. Not one I'm upset about, but just curious about. I do hate thinking I'm a casualty of a 'just because I can' attitude. Lets hope that wasn't the case, otherwise I'd have to be cross.
Nothing is ever easy or obvious. I think that should be the new tagline of this blog sometimes. If it wasn't so late, I'd go write in my paper journal. There are things I want to say, but I don't want to say them here. Tomorrow perhaps.
The lamb was good.
I wrote an entry in my paper journal last night. It's been ages. Months. About six in fact. I will always like certain things about my paper journal more than the blog. I will write more personal things there than I will ever write here. I think that's why I wrote in it last night. My thoughts have shifted to deeply personal. And this just isn't the place.
In part I'm gearing up for the break. People are already leaving. Instead of me leaving my life, my life is leaving me- well, for a week or so at least. Everything will become slightly out of kilter. Skewed and off center. And then we'll all be back like nothing happened.
There is so very much to do.
This week hasn't gone at all like I intended. Was in the hospital for the annual visit on Sunday. Another kidney stone maybe. Hard to say. They don't know. That's what they think. I'm feeling much better now, and it didn't get as bad as last year which is a good thing.
Heard from P. Date is on for tonight. I'm cooking for us at my house. Isn't that forward. Still, part of what is really pulling on my thoughts is how bad (for lack of any better word) our conversations seem to be when we aren't physically together. Each of the two times we've met, there has been no shortage or interruption in the flow of conversation (unless you count some necking). But the email, the texts.... stunted. Short. I don't know what to make of that. Some people are bad at email, or text. I can accept that. But if you meet someone you're interested in... don't you want to talk to them more? I don't know. It leaves me with a very strange feeling, that's hard to reconcile with my memory of hours spent in each others presence. It's with this conundrum in mind that he's coming over for dinner. I guess I just have to see how it goes. But the lack of good flow of conversation or even interest, in between, makes me truly uneasy.
I'm sure it will be fine.
Everything could of course be somewhat exacerbated by the kidney stones and hormones. Though the hormones should be slacking off by now. Well, whatever. I'm just feeling really grumpy still. I wasn't for a few days when I was just hurting. Maybe it just got shoved off a few days while my side was killing me and I'm just catching up with what I was due.
Maybe. Anyway, hopefully I'm just being a grouch and tonight will be lovely like our past two dates have been lovely.
At least I know the lamb cutlets will be good.
In a large part I'm contributing my current mood to hormones. It's the right time to be incredibly grumpy due to hormones, and it would explain why I feel overwhelming annoyance at just about everything that is managing to cross my path. On the other hand, at least one thing is reasonable to be annoyed at I think. Though maybe not quite as vehemently annoyed as I currently am.
I'll start with the one that isn't. I'm very irate with SP right now. Okay, not very irate, but somewhat annoyed because she is making decisions that don't make sense to me. She's in a horrid situation, but on some level is being slightly martyr-ish about some of the decisions she's making. At a certain point, you have to stop letting yourself be the victim and fight back for your rights. I understand this isn't how she is, she's very principled. And even if she gets screwed, she will not make the decision that is 'wrong' if in any way the decision can be accounted for as 'wrong'. But I just think, fuck, at some point you have to put your morals aside and fight for yourself. Being a martyr isn't worthwhile. But maybe it is. Or maybe I'm just a less nice person. It's not that I don't admire her for sticking to her convictions, but I couldn't handle knowing that my own decisions caused me more and more grief if only I'd done something perhaps only slightly underhand myself, then I could at least not have that pain. I don't know. Like I said, hormones, so I find that I'm just annoyed.
The thing I think I'm allowed to be annoyed about is P. So, very good fun night Tuesday night. We hadn't made specific plans to meet up again, though it had gone so very well, I wasn't actually concerned about it. Until he went basically radio silent Wednesday, Thursday, and now today. I'm sorry, did I say something about how it was all going well. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. There could be a perfectly good explanation. On the other hand, this is my world, and I constantly get the short end of the stick in this particular situation. I'm trying not to let my craziness take over, but I'm preparing for the worst. And the hormones are not fucking helping.
At least it's Friday. Except I have so much work to do between now and the xmas break, that really, that's just stressing me out and making me grumpy too. I need chocolate I think. And I need it now.
It seems to me that I need to come up with a name for P. Perhaps I'm jumping the gun a bit, but I feel he may be here for a little while at least. Still, I'm not sure a true name has presented itself yet. I'm toying with possibilities, but none seem to fit quite right, so I guess he'll just stay P for now.
We had our second date last night, which was cool. Met up by London Bridge as I'd had a meeting in the afternoon at the GLA, so that worked out well. Conversation with him is very easy. Which is a good sign. I never feel like I'm struggling to fill conversation gaps, or we are running out of things to say. In a way it's strange because I think that it surprises me in person how we get on, since our email/text exchanges are sometimes a bit short. But you know, change is a good thing.
Last week I was talking to D&V about SA and relationships. I was commenting that I keep urging him to make a list of ten things that he would want from a potential partner and not to get seriously involved with anyone who doesn't hit say, six of those things. He has a history you see, of ending up with people that are particularly unsuited to him. D&V turned the tables on me however and said, "Well then, what's your list?" I guess I should have seen that coming. To be honest my list isn't all that long. But top of my list is someone who actually wants to be with me. I know that sounds obvious, but I keep ending up with people who seem to have a 'take it or leave it' attitude. I always seem to be the one that's pursuing, and I want that more equal rather than one sided.
So this morning I'm talking to D about the date last night and how it went and I think I said something along the lines of, "...and he seems to think I'm interesting which I guess is a good thing." to which D replied, "Well, if they say stuff along those lines it's a sign they're interested in you... hey! Top of the list!!"
Yeah, but it completely freaks me out! I know I said it's the top of the list, but it doesn't mean I'm comfortable with it presented to me right up front. Still, I know it's really early to make any distinctions, and I tend to hold back and be reticent about these things anyway, but it does seem to be going surprisingly well so far. As long as my complete craziness and stubbornness and quirkiness don't descend and ruin everything.... well, it's always a risk.
I really just don't know what to make of any of this. But I'm happy I seem to be keeping my usual insanity generally under control. Suppose the only thing to do is go along and see what happens...
Was I not just here at work? I swear I had no weekend at all. I mean, I know I did- but it was so very busy, I had no time to rest. I hate when I don't get to rest on the weekend. It makes the next work week very difficult. And of course I have not one but two holiday parties this week, a meeting with the GLA, and a date. Where does all the time go?
Saturday morning I went to Broadway Market as usual, got a few things here and there, then headed home to get ready for a date with P. P is new, off a new dating site, and this was our first meeting. Was supposed to meet him at 4pm at CCK but when I got there, the place was heaving. Certainly weren't going to get tables. So when he arrived we walked over to Holborn and went to Bierodrome instead which was fine. Had two drinks over three hours and chatted away, then we decided to go get some dinner so we headed towards Covent Garden and ate at this French place I can always find but never remember the name of which is always good. Then we had to go back to Bierordrome because we'd not paid the tab, but that wasn't too bad because he could get the tube at Holborn and it was closer for me to walk to the bus. So at quarter to eleven he walked me to the bus to make sure I got on one, and we had a little nice kiss or two with no tongue and the bus came and home I went.
Sunday morning I slept in for a bit, then SA called and wanted to go to Spitalfields, so we headed that way. Ate at Canteen which is one of my new favorite places to go, then braved the extremely crowded market. SA was looking for gifts to send home, but only found things for himself. I got some bleu cheese and walnuts because I want to make this yummy sounding baked butternut dish tlsd was telling me about on Saturday. From Spitalfields market we walked through to Brick Lane, then ended up at Columbia Road where the Sunday market was ending, then we walked back to SA's place and I watched the final episode of Charmed and showed SA funny things on YouTube. I was going to go home to drop off my blue cheese, walnuts, and bag of rocks (from the flower market- and let me tell you, a bag of rocks is heavy!) but I ran out of time so headed off to MO's house from SA's house as we were supposed to have dinner.
The weather was shit so we decided to order in, but MO didn't have any delivery menus. Thank god we found this site. It's fantastic. I hope to explore who is on it in my area, though it looks like far less than for MO, but she's more central than I am. At any rate, we got pretty good Indian delivery, and hung out watching Scrubs and South Park and talking about how horrible buying property in this country is. Anyway, I didn't leave her house until after 10, so I just got home and needed to go to bed!
And now I'm at work, clearly being productive. I have a dinner tonight which should be alright, and P has asked for a date tomorrow which seems okay. I'm not at all sure how that's going to go yet, but we seem to have good conversation and he's really nice (and suitably kinky) so I'm willing to give him a chance, he's just young, and also, nice. And frankly, I'm not used to being with anyone who is nice and it is sort of freaking my shit out.
Anyway. That's what's new around these parts.
If only I was so lucky. At the moment it is Monday and I am at home. I got up on time, convinced I had gone to work yesterday when clearly I hadn't. Got myself up and went to take a shower. Usually it takes a while for the hot water to work its way through the pipes, so I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And then I started to think, you know, the water is sort of warm, but it's not hot. And I've been waiting a really long time. I managed to sort of wash up a bit, then I turned the shower off and tried the hot water tap in the sink. Again, warm but not hot. I knew something was up.
Went down to the kitchen and ran the hot tap there. Usually with all this hot water going, you can hear the boiler click on. But there was no noise. Then I tried to look in the little window where you can normally see the pilot light, no flame. Tried to re-set it, no luck.
So now I've called a company to come out and look at it. Angry and worried that I'm going to be ripped off by some charlatan. Nothing I can do about it though really. And I just looked outside only to find that all the streets are cordoned off. I yelled out to the police-woman who was running tape across the road in front of my house to ask what was going on. I thought maybe if it was a larger gas or electricity problem that would help explain things.
She told me there's a suspect package on a bus. I assume at Hackney Central because I can't see any bus from my window. How are the boiler people going to get here now? Fuck.
Talking to SH last night, and relating some unpleasant discoveries of yesterday evening I said that I had to try to cut Mr.Aloof out of my life.
"What is this try bullshit- you just need to do it." she said.
Well, try in the sense that, I need to fucking try. If I say 'I'm going to do something', and then I don't, then I feel guilty and like a failure, which will make me feel worse on top of already feeling bad. Plus, I won't feel able to talk to my friends because I will appear to be a failure and useless to them as well when I'm probably already feeling low.
I explained this to her. She proceeded to lecture me a bit about 'being in control of myself' and 'growing up'. I swear there's a reason I don't tell some of my friends some things some times.
Tonight I was able to add another animal to those that have passed through my digestive system. I was really surprised when I saw it on the menu and had to ask if they really meant it or not. Of course it could have just been beef....
It occured to me yesterday, as I stood at the Gomez concert, exactly how disassociated I've become from my homeland. Because I wasn't really missing Thanksgiving at all. To be fair, this has as much to do with my Aunt passing away seven years ago as much as it does not being inundated with media reminders about the holiday.
In general I like Thanksgiving, and have very pleasant memories of family time spent together. A truly 'American' holiday- it's non-religious, and for everyone. I'm not sure anyone particularly 'gives thanks', though that's pushed in the media as well. It's more just a time set aside where everyone sees their family. Similar to Christmas I suppose, but for us non-Christians who don't celebrate Christmas, it's something we can share with everyone else.
Of course my Aunt used to do Thanksgiving when she was alive. And even when I was in the States after her death, it wasn't the same. If I went to see my family in Michigan, all the people were there, but the food wasn't quite right. The location wasn't right. Now that I've moved here, I find I don't have the push to revisit Thanksgiving. I don't have the drive to 'do my own' here and invite people around to celebrate with me. It's something I've just let slide.
Maybe one day I will make a new tradition out of it- something that can mean something to me again. But for now, it's more just a warm and pleasant memory, a part of my personal history.
Ostensibly I'm at work because I'm supposed to be working. Clearly this is not the case. The thing is, if it's not one thing, it's another. This project of mine is now two weeks late, and it's looking very much like it's going to be another week late at least on top of that. On the one hand, this is not bad, because as this is 'my project' I am in a good position of responsibility and such. On the other hand, I'm just sick of it. And all the pressure. And it's so very close but things keep cropping up and throwing it all into mayhem.
And I really don't like working so much. I'm the sort of person who does not live to work. I've never been interested in having my own firm, I've never wanted that level of responsibility and investment. I prefer to have a life you see. Except I'm not having much of one at the moment.
Which has been highlighted to be by both of my parents this week. I suppose I'm lucky that they've mostly waited until I was 32 to unwittingly tag-team me about my single-ness. It's been on my dads mind for a while, but my mother has rarely chimed in. But all of the sudden she's starting too. Which doesn't make me want to go find anyone, probably just the opposite. I can be quite contrary like that. Still, I know they only have my best interests at heart, but it's not really like I need a 'reminder' that I'm single, do I? Jesus.
In other unassociated news, I found out my step-mother is coming to stay with me in between Christmas and New Years, and my aunt is thinking of coming as well. Which could be lots of fun. My step-mother is awesome and my aunt is crazy but good fun. And anyway, everyone else is going to be away!
I came in to work today to do some work. I have instead spent two hours discussing urban design theory and practice with SA. I need to leave here in two and a half hours to meet tlsd at the airport. Looks like I'll be coming in tomorrow then. Goddamn it. Oh well. At least tlsd is back! Though she's probably gonna be all tired and stuff. Good thing I'll be meeting her to keep her awake then!
I've just had an interesting evening.
Mr.Aloof came over to my house. He was here. In my hallway. On the sofa. In my kitchen. In my HOUSE.
And now he's gone.
I know I've said here that we were going to meet up for drinks. He said he'd come north of the river. This in itself was a reasonably big achievement. I'd like to forge that in the over a year that we were sort of together he came north of the river probably.... four times that come to mind. Now to be fair, he did drive me home a handful of other times- right to my door. And we would neck in the car for an hour, and he wouldn't come up, and he'd drive home. Point being, Mr.Aloof, has never been into my house.
So recently, he suggested meeting for drinks. Well, let me backtrack. We hadn't spoken really for a couple months. It was when I went to Chicago at the end of August. I was on messenger, he came on, and because I was hanging around SH's house, we talked. For hours. And it was really good to talk. And since then, he's been fairly consistent with the keeping up via emails. Which, to be entirely fair, is also completely unusual. I'm not sure we ever stayed in such constant contact without him disappearing for a week or six here or there. So a couple weeks back when he suggested that we meet for a drink, I agreed.
In my heart, I know this is probably not for the best. I like him. I didn't split with him because we weren't getting along. I split with him because I enjoyed my time with him so much, I wanted more and more of it. And he didn't. And that hurt me so deeply, I couldn't bear the good times, for all the hurt that came with it.
But I thought I would meet for a drink. See how it was. See what the damage was. What would be the harm? We were supposed to meet last week Tuesday. But I got dreadfully ill and called it off. He suggested Thursday, but I was still feeling pretty crappy. So it got bumped to this Tuesday. And for a moment on Monday and Tuesday, I thought he was pulling his usual disappearing act, and I felt angry and vindicated, yet oddly calm and also uncaring. But then he got in touch and said he was coming tonight. And not only was he coming north, but he would come to my house.
Now that was pretty sneaky no? I hadn't invited him to my house. Obviously it was a point of some contention when we were together- that he never had come to my house. But it wasn't like now, after everything, that I was going to be like 'Oh, come to my house.' I thought we were just meeting for a drink. But no, next thing I know, he's driving up to mine, and knocking on my front door. Of course, I arranged for flatmate D to be conveniently gone tonight. I thought, "Okay, maybe we'll have a drink, then we'll go get some dinner locally and he'll probably take off." Yeah. I can be really blind sometimes.
It was strange. He stood outside for a bit. "Are you going to come in?" I asked him, head peeping out between the door jamb.
"I'm not sure!" he said. And I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the entrance. And we hugged, and kissed on the cheek. So far so good. Then I made us some lovely green and blacks hot chocolate with organic whole milk (mmmmmm). And basically we curled up together on the sofa, drank hot chocolate, listened to music, and talked. And talked and talked and talked and talked. Always in contact. Always in touch. Nothing I wouldn't consider appropriate with some of my very close male friends. But he's not my very close male friend. He's my ex-lover. And it was charged.
For three hours we cuddled a bit and yapped. Snacked on some food, moved onto a glass of wine each. And he said he probably needed to head home. So he dragged himself up and was getting ready to go, and we were still talking away. And of course he stood up, and we hugged, and a hug became a bear hug, and a nuzzle into the neck, and kissing. Of course it did. And it was so nice to be held. To be kissed by someone you want to be kissing. And then he left, saying he'd see me again soon, in a few days.
What am I doing. I know it's probably not a good idea. But it's so pleasant this part. And it's not like I have other prospects I'm neglecting. It's not even like I've stopped looking, I just sent two emails to guys off online dating sites who wrote to me. So what's wrong with feeling good for a little bit when you have the chance?
Fuck. It's a slippery slope. That's what's wrong. Can I do this without losing my head and my heart? Probably not. But am I going to try it? Probably so.
I was going to go to bed, but then, all of the sudden, there is some very explicit sex on TV. At the moment, there are massive pictures of a clitoris being fondled. Now that's not something you'd see on American TV. No, I mean, holy crap, they're now showing girls, how to manipulate their own clitoris, and how a man can make sure he's found it. What the hell?
I mean, on the one hand, I guess it's good these things are on television. On the other hand, they are putting cameras into all sorts of places you don't want cameras to show what sex is like from the inside out. Oh, and they're actually having sex. I see boobies banging in a nice doggy-style shot.
How the hell am I supposed to go to bed like this? Mother fucker. Oh wait, they're moving onto penis enlargement treatments and if those work or not. That's a nice cold shower. Yeah, no pictures to go with this one I think.
It has snuck upon me like the mother of all colds. I should be at home in bed. Am I? No. I'm at work. Going to a very important meeting with the GLA this afternoon and meeting with our Energy/Environmental consultants beforehand. Why? Because there is absolutely no one else who can fucking go. P is in Sheffield, and that leaves, well, me. Mother fuckers. I do not get any fucking credit for the work I do here. I want to go be in bed and be miserable. I hab a code!!!!!!
About three months ago I won an eBay auction for a portfolio of work by Craig Cowling aka Naughty James. I wasn't sure I could even afford to bid on it, but was lucky that the final price came in under my max, and I won the item. I was actually really excited about it, having before that recently bought some prints from CJC, I thought it would be nice to add to the collection.
Then of course the nightmare began. I sent a check for payment which included shipping, and then.... nothing. I send emails, 'Have you received my payment?'. Finally I got a response. Payment received, need to arrange pick-up/delivery (even though my payment included ten pounds for 'shipping').
Thus began the horrific, annoying, and disheartening journey of someone stealing my money and not delivering the goods. Of course the 60 day eBay period came and went, and it wasn't through paypal, so I can't go there for any claims. Now I have to go to the fucking police because this jerk who literally lives two blocks from my house can't be bothered to do the right thing and has actually stolen from me.
I can't actually believe that someone would be so.... shit really. I figured, maybe he doesn't want to part with his prints after all, I said he could just give me the money back and fair would be fair. But he hasn't said anything at all. Just ignores me, like I'm going to go away and leave him with my cash, nothing more than a thief and a fraud.
And anyone who knows me, knows that I'm usually pretty generous and fair about stuff. And not always so naive. You just figure that when someone fucking sells you something, that they aren't going to take your fucking money and run. Of course, like I said, he IS only two blocks from my house. I think a house call may be in order.... Bastard.
Strange moon? Raging hormones? Stress at work? Stress in my personal life? All I can say is, my dreams have been a bit nuts.
Three nights ago I dreamt that I was on a staircase in the rain, under an umbrella. Pressing up against the person I was with, feeling intimate, we kissed. Now in my dream, I identified this person as Mr.Aloof- but the visual that went along with it was P my boss. I woke up horrified.
Two nights ago I dreamt I was part of some sort of study that I had been part of before, but this time it was all new people, and they had all started and gotten to know each other before I arrived. So I tried to get to know people and share my knowledge of stuff since I'd did it all before, but when I went to meet with the counselor, she told me that the people in the group didn't like me very much, that I was very self centered, and that I seemed to be a very angry person.
Last night I had a dream I lived in this house that was being renovated or restored. Mr.Aloof came over to spend the night, he'd never been to my house and was interested in buying a place to fix up for himself, though I told him the landlord bought it ages ago before the property values skyrocketed. I needed to take a shower, but people from work arrived and I had to do some work standing wrapped in a towel in a bathtub in a meeting room. Mr.Aloof couldn't wait for me to shower and make breakfast so he left me there in the shower. Then I met up with my friend SA and we went to some free exhibit London was putting on about New York and Muslim culture, and they were providing everyone with free Arabic attire to wear and take home. I remember we were in a line trying to buy dolmas.
This is how I feel about things. I sort of feel like I'm living in a bubble at the moment. I look out at all the other people and feel strangely disconnected from them. It's a bit related to my earlier post about people being gone both temporarily and more permanently. Have I really made very many friends or a good social network here? Sometimes I wonder.
This weekend I had a consultation so really I only had one day to my weekend, Sunday. It really wasn't enough to recharge the batteries and so today I am being generally unproductive because I can't get my brain to do what it's supposed to do, I'd rather just zone out. I'm watching my boss P play super nice with the new guy in my department M who is junior to me, but P is of course cozying up to him because HE is a HIM and that pisses me off. But I don't even have the energy to care that much about it right now.
Other things of passing interest these days- I want to go on the giant slides at the Tate Modern, I still want to go see the China exhibit at Battersea, and um oh well uh I'm supposed to meet Mr.Aloof for drinks next week.
See, nothing much new or of interest going on at all.
I am so very busy. Went away to Madrid and came back. Work is killing me. Too much to do, not enough time to do it in. My life is just flying past. Soon it will be New Years and I won't know where it all went.
Everything seems different as well. Tlsd is away for practically an entire month traveling. My office is filled with new people. Old friends have left and work elsewhere now. I was just thinking how I bought my flat over two years ago now. That seems so long ago! Madness, simply madness!
I really need to get back to working, so I'm going to keep this one short. If something truly momentous happens however, I'll be sure to make note of it. I would have posted some pictures, but blogger was acting up. Next time.
This weekend was a pretty busy one for me. Lots of stuff happening and meeting up with various people which was all good and productive. But I'm not really going to focus on that right now.
I want to make mention of an exhibit I went to see at Dilston Grove at Southwark Park. Up until the exhibit changes, you can scroll down to the bottom of this page to read the formal description. I initially think I saw something about the exhibit on boing boing and I just thought it looked really cool and wanted to go see it. So seeing as how I was up and out of my house by 8:40 on Sunday, I thought that it would be good to head over there and see it while I had the chance.
I didn't know what to expect in any way. From reading the description, it was clear that only one person could go at a time. I wasn't sure about any of the detail or how it would work. I sort of expected a queue of some sort, or that you had to get an advance ticket, though none of this was the case. When I arrived there was a waiver you had to sign which I did, and then I was into the church shell itself with the piece before me.
To be completely fair I was at first maybe slightly disappointed. There was a bridge you walked across to reach the first step of the pool. But the construction of the pool was visible, so you could clearly see a pool had been constructed 'into' the space of the church. With additional funding (I'm sure it all comes down to funding) I would have suggested 'finishing' the edges of the piece so that it was more integrated with the building. The second thing I noticed was that the steps were somewhat small, and that you had to wear a life jacket and that the designer himself (Michael Cross) was walking along in the pool with the person to make sure that the steps functioned properly and to be a shoulder to lean on when needed. This of course obscures slightly the idea that it's a solo meditative journey. Oh, and third, because I was afraid of either possibly falling in or dropping anything I was holding, I didn't take my camera out with me, though that had been my original intent. And because I came to the exhibit on my own, there was no one to photograph me out in the pool, so that was unfortunate. However, I found someone else's good photograph here so that you get the idea.
Now, that was what was wrong with the piece. But let me tell you what was right about it. It was really fucking cool. I was lucky in that when I arrived there were two couples ahead of me. One was just finishing and then in the next pair, only the woman went- the man didn't want to try. So when it was my turn, there was no one else. This was good because it allowed me to focus on myself in the space with the water and not be bothered about someone waiting for me to hurry up, or as a comment on the link above suggests, there was no one 'clapping' when I reached the middle. Plus, I could stand and appreciate the final step for as long as I wanted.
The motion of the steps, how there was a slight bubble before they emerged from the inky water and then slowly moved crossways in front of you to their final stepping position was also an impressive and serene detail. There was a little bit of dye added to the water to increase it's 'blackness'. Being about 60cm deep, I couldn't see the mechanisms below, all I could see looking down was the reflection of the church above, and the steps just as they appeared. Very nice.
Having a brief chat with the designer after, I learned that they have had double the expected turnout so far, and there are still three weeks left to the exhibit. I think he was overwhelmed with the interest and popularity which was sort of charming, as he wasn't at all insincere. Unfortunately this meant the mechanisms were a little more worn than expected as well, but having done the walk myself, I don't think it at all matters.
I'd love to do the same piece at night, with candles lit in the church or moonlight coming through and the blackness even more exposed. I'd like to try it without someone walking next to me, even if I did fall in. I'd like to have the space completely to myself for a meditative moment just to contemplate the way you feel standing in the middle of the pool.
Well, at least with all this publicity, Michael Cross should get funding to expand the concept and hopefully there will be further applications of the concept that will be open to the public to come and experience.
Overall my weekend was very good. Starting with Friday night when me and a couple of others went to the new Rich Mix cinema in Bethnal Green. I only have good things to say about this new building. The movies are cheap - £6 and concessions even cheaper. I got a large fresh popcorn for 2.80. Yes, that's right and not a typo. I will be going back to this cinema with regularity. If they had a member pass, I'd buy one now. Hopefully when word gets out about how great it is, they won't do anything stupid like raise their prices.
Saturday I met up with another friend in Camden and we went to see An Inconvenient Truth. This was perhaps the first flash of Mortality I had over the weekend. In fact, it was highly depressing. But I don't mean depressing in a bad way. You just wonder about life and the world and what the hell is going to happen. I think I just felt like crying at one point. I encourage everyone to see this movie. I think it should be mandatory viewing actually. Before it's too late, if it isn't already.
Sunday saw me on the bus to help a friend of a friend with a project where they needed to talk to an honest to god American. So I volunteered to help out. On the bus ride there I saw a man who had collapsed on the sidewalk. There was a group of people with him, trying to help him. Calling for help obviously, putting him in the rescue position, staying with him until help arrived. It was a bit disturbing, but at the same time encouraging. That strangers will, when pressed, rush to the aid of another person. Still, I wondered what had happened, as the man was stiff and clearly unconscious. I wondered if he was going to make it, or if he had died.
Helping the friend of the friend with their project was actually very enjoyable. It's nice to use your brain. It's nice to be told you have skills you didn't really know you had. I suppose it could have all been smoke and mirrors, but I don't actually think so. So that was cool. Long, but cool.
Sunday night I spoke to my dad who told me he was going to Kol Nidre services. I thought this was a bit strange seeing as how my dad is very non-religious. So we chatted for a bit but he had to go. Then I suddenly started to miss that I wasn't going to Kol Nidre services. So I googled a couple versions of the Kol Nidre and listened to them while I dug out my High Holy Days prayer book and read through the evening service. Around this time I also made the decision to fast.
I'm not always very practicing about my religion. I've been various stages of observant in my past. But sine coming to London it's something I let fall by the wayside mostly. I tried to go to a synagogue once, but they were rude and obnoxious and very unwelcoming and to be honest, it completely put me off trying anywhere else here again. Still, when it comes to my own spirituality, I vaguely follow my own system of 'how to practice'. Which tends to involve sporadic picking and choosing of the available traditions.
So I'm fasting. For Yom Kippur. And this morning I read through the morning service. And again thought to myself about my weekend. About the movie I'd see about how we're destroying our planet. About the man I'd seen who had collapsed in the street. I'm not sure what I think about all of these things, except to say that I feel very introspective today. Yom Kippur is the day that you embrace your mortality. Admit your wrongdoings. Your faults. Your sins. Not necessarily against other people- you cannot seek atonement from God for wrongs to others, only wrongs to God, which, in my mind really amounts to wrongs to yourself.
To me, Yom Kippur is a way of forgiving yourself for your flaws and faults. And trying to find the renewed strength to try and be a better person. With the added hope that you are given another year to do it in. Ken yehi ratzon.
Today there are many things on my mind. In no particular order...
- Although I took my last pill on Saturday, my period only showed up today (yes, I thought I'd start with the worst first). This annoys me and confuses me. I'm supposed to take my first pill on Sunday. Usually that means all bleeding stops. So that would mean I have a three day period. Not exactly normal. Perhaps before I freak out and worry, I should just see how it goes next month.
- There is some irritation way in the very back of my gum on the right hand side. It's sore and painful and annoying. I've been using Cordosyl for two days now, and it's not better yet. That leaves a nasty taste in the mouth and does weird things to your taste buds. After the weekend it will either be getting better and I will be happy, or it will be much worse and I will need to go to the dentist. At the moment, it's just a huge annoyance.
- My stomach is grumbling and I'm hungry. This will be resolved in about thirty minutes when I will hopefully be chowing down on some lunch.
- This weekend I have assorted plans with different people. Which should be fun. But busy. When will I get a chance to clean and do laundry? Uh oh....
- Tonight I'm supposed to meet SA out for his leaving drinks thing with his office. I hope it's not raining.
- Because I've worked until ten the past two nights, I'm not inclined to work very hard today, and yet I have a bunch of things that I need to get done. So I really shouldn't put them off because that will make Monday very unpleasant.
- I started knitting following a pattern. I'm so excited to actually follow a pattern. All I want to do is knit right now. Screw everything else.
- Speaking of screwing. There's none of that in my future. I'm feeling pretty edgy again about not even having prospects. I need to get out and make more of an effort. I'm debating the idea of hitting some of the fetish clubs in town, but I'm not at all sure about that approach either. Still, there's been a huge lack of bondage, beating, and fucking this year and that really needs to change.
- Note on the above- but not with over-eager married men that are currently trying it on.
Fucking hormones fucking hormones fucking hormones.
I should pay attention to this. Part of the whole reason for going back on the pill was to try and get a handle on my mood swings. I'm doing okay I think, I just feel maudlin or morose which is perhaps better than aggressive and snappish. Still, depressed isn't necessarily a desirable alternative.
Still, there are things that can cut through the gloom. Someone told me this today because I asked them for their opinion. It made me smile and feel not so defective for a moment.
"levels of strangeness...
well, i can tell you that i've encountered strange in my time- to the extent i could write a considerable definition of the word.
you are not possibly, the average round-about-town girl...
you have tastes in terms of sexuality that are not for everyone.
you are intelligent to the top 10-percent-of-the-population-degree i would say.
you are sweet, yet sure of yourself.
you need someone who can handle that your femininity is not the miss stilettos kind, but behavioral and devoted.
it's sad that too many men are shallow to the degree that this lacks appeal.
it is also the case that a lot of guys would find intelligence and a forthright sense of opinion to be threatening, and be often defensive towards it."
Yeah. You probably know who wrote it. And no, it doesn't mean anything that way. I'm going to go back to listening to my Simon & Garfunkel now.
For me it's a really bad sign when I am dreaming about work. That's how I woke up this morning. Dreaming about the work I need to do and all my responsibilities. That wasn't very nice.
So this week is going to be pretty brutal. I have lots of work to do and a Thursday evening deadline. It's seriously nose to the grindstone time.
This happens to coincide with my period starting. So that really won't be adding anything pleasant to my stress.
On Tuesday night they are showing the season finale of Lost. So I'm absolutely going to be home for the double bill. That's at least something to look forward to, but it's still something I'm going to schedule in.
Honestly it's just that I have so much to do this week, that everything else is just slipping off my radar. I'm worried that I'm going to make it through in one piece. Fingers crossed.
At least I have something on Sunday to look forward to. Maybe I'll talk about that later.
There were lots of things I was going to do today but now, at 10:30, I don't think I'm going to do any of them. I'm tired. And stressed. And my ass hurts- and not in a good way. Stupid broken tailbone again. I was going to go to 100% Design today at Earl's Court, but it's a long way to go, I don't have anyone to go with, and I really can't be bothered. Even if the weather looks lovely.
It could be that I'm suffering from PMS. Tomorrow is my last pill in my pack, so it would make sense. Of course, this is the first month I'm on these particular pills, so it's hard to tell. Otherwise, these pills have been far better than the last set I tried, no breakthrough bleeding at all. Just a regular seeming schedule and cycle so far. Thank fuck for that.
Actually, I must be having some sort of PMS. I've also been cursing up a storm.
Work is pissing me off. It's been extremely stressful this week, which wouldn't otherwise bug me except that since I had the conversation with GT about how the company really doesn't value me, I haven't really been motivated to give them anything at all. Then I went to dinner with EG who reminded me that the office only rewards people who give up their lives and work insane hours. Oh yeah, I forgot about that. For fucks sake, I just need to leave.
Friends behaving badly also isn't winning any favors at the moment. I know that it's all a bad situation, but you know what, it's not my bad situation. And I don't have to be involved. I have high expectations for improvements next week. That's probably a mistake.
I've been feeling lonely. I know this is because I was talking to Mr.Aloof and he just disappeared, and even though even our talking didn't mean anything (we had no plans to meet up), I recognize that what I get from it is just a level of comfort. And I miss it when it goes away and I want it if not from him, from someone else. Which isn't bad actually, because it suggests that I need to be more active again in looking. So that's fine. I can do that. Still, motivation from loneliness isn't maybe the best reason. I need to find some happy medium. I despise feeling either desperate (even though I don't think I really am) or dependent (which again I don't think I am) because I view those as incredibly unattractive qualities.
Half an hour gone and I feel no more interest in going to Earl's Court than I did earlier. Maybe I'll go sign up at the gym. I think I would like that. Still, even such a simple task seems overwhelming and daunting at the moment. I may not get it done. I don't fucking care.
Last night I went to see Les Ballets de Trockadero de Monte Carlo with tlsd, MR, and MO. The show was fantastic. I think I had read something about it a very long time ago. All I have to say was super good times. And, because we were in the second row, I got a good look at lots of very muscular man legs in very tight tights. Hehe.
Part of what made the ballet fun was the exaggeration and 'camp' thrown into what is actually more traditional dance. Ballerinas gossiping and arguing and slipping and tripping added the comedic edge to what was an impressive display of dance, which included very tall men en pointe, which was almost frightening.
So the ballet was good. After which all four of us went to this Japanese restaurant by Holborn Station. So far so good, though to keep the story correct, it's sort of important to interject here that everyone had been drinking.
Anyway, dinner was good, though it was clear that MR was pretty toasted. But that was okay, and conversation and things were moving on in the usual random fashion as people dug into their yummy vegetable tempura, really unusual sushi rolls and pieces, and other assorted Japanese goodness.
Then I went to the bathroom.
I sort of wish I hadn't gone to the bathroom, but I really had to pee. MO had already gone and I got down there laughing to myself at the karaoke I could hear coming from the private room that was downstairs with the toilets as well as the clear plastic toilet seats with the colorful fish embedded in them. I was already planning my amusing commentary for when I got back upstairs. I flushed. I washed my hands. I was on my way out the door... when tlsd walked in.
"It's all over, the friendship is over, Australia is over, I can't take this fucking shit anymore!"
What the.... I was very confused. I was still thinking about the fish on the toilet seat. "What? What just happened?"
I could go on to describe each moment of the evening but I think it's better if I cut to the morning when I called MO just to let her know what had happened (I had gotten a text) and also to get the unbiased story (as MO doesn't really know either of them that well). MO said pretty much what I expected. MR went in with some snarky comment about vacuuming to which tlsd responded badly, which exacerbated MR who continued to hammer and escalate the conversation. In MOs version, each statement made didn't have much to do with the one before it and upped the ante until MR was just going off on the cats and how they smell and shed hair and tlsd said, "Well, if you don't like it that much, then move out.", to which MR responded, "Oh fine tlsd, that's a great response. Everything is over, the friendship is over, just make it all over."
Huh. MO was a bit horrified by the whole thing, but at the time put a good face on it. She said obviously there were way deeper issues and problems being dragged up because she could barely follow the venom. I told her that was pretty much the case.
But anyway, after what MR said, that's when tlsd went down to the toilets, and that's when I saw her. And when I was back and she was back, conversation had stopped, because the damage was already done (or so I thought).
All I did was go pee!
So we paid up and got ready to go and MR said she was going to the toilets and that we should go home and she'd see us all tomorrow. MO and I said, "Are you sure?" and she reiterated that we should go on, and she'd see us tomorrow and yes.
So we leave.
Tlsd wanted to wait for her, but that didn't seem like a good idea. First of all, she'd said to go, and secondly, they weren't in any fit state to be together. So both MO and I thought it was a pretty good idea for tlsd to head on home and MR would follow later so they could have some space apart. We had to convince her twice to move on. She kept saying MR didn't know how to get home (though we were close to a tube station and the bus stop, and even if she didn't, it would have been easy to figure out) and also she said to leave.
The whole bus ride home I talked to tlsd about how these situations escalate. About how the living together is tense. About how they don't really reset themselves to 'fine' but more like 'just before the explosion'. And that this was all clearly alcohol fueled and sort of silly and pointless and the best thing she could do was just let it go and not make a big deal out of it.
That's when she got the bad text. MR saying how the friendship was over, how she was moving out tomorrow, how tlsd was selfish and horrible. I thought to myself, how the hell did we get to that from vacuuming? But we were right at tlsds stop so she got off and I decided to call MR myself just to say, calm down, and I thought that text was a bit over the top.
And she was hysterical. And screaming. And clearly upset. Upset that tlsd had left her. Upset that tlsd had told her to move out. And I instantly felt bad because MO and I had insisted that tlsd leave, because MR said so. So I tried to tell her this. I said, "Look, I take full responsibility but MO and I made tlsd leave twice. She wanted to wait for you and was concerned about you but you had said to go and we thought it would be better if you were apart and we made her go, she didn't want to go, and you can't hold that against her, that's our fault."
But she was inconsolable. She was just screaming into the phone. I couldn't understand half the things she was saying actually, but was glad to at least get out of her that she was at least on the bus.
Then I called tlsd. I told her what happened. I repeated my story. I again took responsibility for encouraging her to leave. Tlsd was upset because that helped explain the leap in MRs attitude from mildly upset to wildly upset. But it didn't really fix anything. Because they're both on such short fuses and it doesn't take anything to make it explode. It's just consistent and battering.
And horrible to watch.
I mean really horrible to watch. Earlier in the evening at dinner MR was going on about how she loved tlsd and was so happy they'd been friends for 10 years. And to go from the one extreme to the other, it's sad. It's worse than sad, it's horrible. It's one of the worst things that can happen, when good friendships go wonky. And I hate watching them hammer at each other and fuel the all consuming fire, even when neither of them really want it to happen they can't really seem to stop it either.
It just wasn't cool. Just a couple weeks and they're both away. Just a couple weeks and everything changes. When they're back, MR can look for her new flat, and once she moves out into her own space and new life I firmly believe that things can calm down and get back to normal. 
During the Open House, at the Ann Taylor Children's Centre, I was very pleased by the architecture. However, I was even more pleased by some person who carefully arranged the toys....
In reality, aside from a few key facts, things have been going reasonably well these days.
With no tests to study for or upcoming trips home, I don't have the pressure weighing down on me.
Now that work has made it clear they don't value me, funny enough I'm being given even more responsibility. Won't those fuckers just cry and cry then, when I actually leave.
There was the evening fiasco with Mr.Noshow but I'm feeling a renewed vigor to hit the dating scene again and have been talking to at least one person that could have potential. I need to get on top of it all and pursue some others. And I'm feeling the energy needed to do so, so that's good.
Oh, and I got a haircut and color yesterday which made me exceptionally pleased.
I'm even feeling the motivation to start going back to the gym. So why the deterioration you may ask?
Because the one thing that is bringing my mood crashing down is the emergency of my chronic skin disease on my face. I'm far more used to it breaking out on my hands. In fact, this has been it's more common course the past two years with only smaller breakouts on my face. But this seems to have been building now for two weeks and I'm well into having an unpleasant go of it. The skin around my mouth and on my eyes is red, itchy, and inflamed. Which of course makes me feel like a leper because everyone can see that something is wrong with me. Either that or I just get asked a lot of I've been crying or if I'm okay or if I'm sick. Which is really shitty if you consider everything I listed above. I'd like to be happy right now, or at least generally content. But every minute of every hour of every day I'm being tormented by my skin. That's so unfair.
Now I don't know what the heck is going on with dear X's blog today. It just disappeared really, and that freaks my shit out. It's always bothered me a bit, keeping the blog, how it could all just disappear, and how it meshes with my regular handwritten journals. So I decided on a plan of action many months ago, but have just recently set that plan into action.Basically, I am going through my blog from the beginning and transferring it into an InDesign document that I will then hopefully have printed out and bound so that I can add it to my box of journals. Of course it will run concurrent with my current journal, but at least that way I will feel that there is some record of it in the correct place. Ideally I want to get to the place where I am up to date, so that every time I do a new entry, I just drop a copy of it into my working document, and I don't have to worry about 'what will happen to my blog'.
I almost forgot to share with you all that my mom called on Sunday to let me know I passed exam number six! I'm a whole 2/3 an architect now, only three more exams to go! At least I don't have to worry about those until next year... and worry about them I shall. No more multiple choice for me, it's onto the graphics divisions. Still, I have four years and seven months to pass all three. I think I can handle that.
I have ten minutes to snap out some commentary about last night. Ten minutes because I need to go to work then, and ten minutes because I want to just get it out, and then really not speak of it again. Except of course I will, but you know what I mean.
When I try to think of words to describe my evening, the ones that pop up first are 'disaster' and 'fiasco' and 'disappointment'. Where the third is probably the closest and the first two are more sensationalist, you get the drift.
Left work early to make my preparations for the evening, still merrily going along, looking forward to my evening of fun and frivolity.
Took off from my place at just the right time to get there right on time. After a minute or two, met Mr.Noshow who had gotten a bit lost. A bit wierded out by dungeon being in flatblock, but hey, go with it.
Get up there, meet the owner who shows us around. It's nuts in a surreal way. So much stuff! Exceptionally clean. Diverse. Overwhelming (cue foreshadowing background music here).
Mr.Noshow and I walk around examining everything for a bit, then he asks me to go get changed, which I do.
The evening begins down the expected path, but as time passes it's clear Mr.Noshow is perhaps agitated. (cue musical punctuation and buildup) Then perhaps stressed. (cue musical accent, increase volume) Then finally becoming paranoid and suspicious. (music swells to crescendo) After what can only amount to some okay play and a halfhearted fuck, it's clear we must end our evening. He's really freaked himself out about things.
So we get dressed and talk some more and then call the owner so we can check out and leave. Who was nothing but gracious and nice. Mr.Noshow drove me home. And that's pretty much all there is to the story.
I need to find myself a new guy. The impulse to force Mr.Aloof into a playdate now is worryingly strong.
It's been so long...
Seriously though. A huge part of any bdsm based play is the build-up. The mental foreplay if you will. All the little comments that hint at what could happen and what might be in store. I would almost go so far as to say it's a huge part of play in general, but then that sort of discounts play that happens in clubs or similar temporary venues. So this sort of build-up is not a necessity, but rather, I think, one of those things that makes playtime with someone you know better, or have longer access too, different.
As Monday evening gets closer, little texts and emails from Mr.Noshow have been on the rise. Some are explicit and some aren't, but they all serve to set the mood and heighten anticipation. And I'm enjoying it quite a bit. Of course it heightens my awareness of impending events. Sets the body all a-tingle. Most excellent.
Unfortunately there's a tiny little dark spot on my enjoyment, because Mr.Noshow, though someone I have now known two years and consider a friend of sorts, will never be able to top me the way I would like. Not to sound like a snotty bitch, but he's just not quick enough. He's too easy to manipulate. And while there are many debates in bdsm circles about 'topping from the bottom', I really just mean that he can't keep up with me all the time, so I have to tone down my own behavior for it all to work. And that just takes a little bit of the shimmer out of it. Even still, I know it will be lots of fun, as long as I set certain bits of myself aside, and never express the above sentiment to him, and that's okay.
The only other thing that is lacking is that Mr.Noshow has a fairly focused desire for bdsm activities and they don't stray very far from the base. For example, bondage really doesn't seem to be his thing so much, unless it's bondage in the context of his interests which is more the 'disciplinarian' scenario. So if I act up a bit, he might use restraints to keep me from moving about, but it will be restraint because of my actions, not restraint for the sake of restraint. Which means there will definitely be no ropework involved. Which is a shame a bit, because having experienced ropework now, all I want is more!
It doesn't necessarily help with all my musings and thinking about things, that this morning I read a nice little blog about Violet Blue and Monk, him showing her a little bit of what he can do. What was even better than the description however, was the video. Because it shows two things I adore. First, laughter and smiles. Because that's something I can completely identify with. In fact, watching the clip, I found that I was grinning. Sometimes it gets forgotten that this stuff is fun. So I really liked the... reality of that. And second, the struggle. Granted it was just a little bit of struggle, and a bit late in the tie for her to really have any chance of doing much. Still, that's also a part of restraint that appeals to me, from the sub position. That you really are under someone else's control. Hm..... yum!
*insert time-lag here for daydreaming*
And on a completely unrelated note, my fingers still smell of garlic from the yummy spinach/tomato/onion/white bean/garlic Italian dish I made last night.
Is it wrong to call yourself a 'girl' when you are 32. I'm sure I'm not the only person to have ever remarked on the lack of a middle phrase for young women. In the same sense that there are 'boys', 'guys', and 'men', there only seem to be 'women' and 'girls'. I suppose we could start saying 'gals' but it's really not the same now is it?
Anyway, this girl has been way too fucking busy. It's one of those bittersweet realizations that your life is very full, and so you are busy, and that's a good thing right? Except your laundry hasn't been done in two weeks, your room looks like a bomb went off, you really don't have much that would pass as 'food' in your refrigerator and you haven't slept much and you feel like you might just be ready to explode.
Since returning from Chicago, I have been busy every night except for that actual night of my arrival. In fact, this is my first non-busy night, but I'm not writing this worthless piece of poo from home, oh no, I'm writing it from work. Because due to a family related friend of my mother sort of thing emergency, I took a two and a half hour lunch and so must stay here for another twenty minutes just to make my working day. And really, I need to finish this drawing for first thing tomorrow morning. Not that it's getting done very quickly while I write this, but I just need a break.
Tomorrow another person is leaving, though not someone many people like that much, so it's not such a big deal like last week. Saturday is a birthday party event for another friend. Sunday might be free, then Monday night I'm getting my ass well beaten by Mr.Noshow at a dungeon for hire that he has rather usefully booked.
I'm looking forward to our play-date, except it's also somewhat bittersweet, as while I expect it to be good, I do not expect it to be fantastic. The sad fact of the matter is, Mr.Noshow doesn't have the capacity in his dealings with me to be fantastic. Not like Mr.Aloof. And that's a bit sad. Because I think, it's going to be good, but it could be so much better.... but for Monday at least, I'm perfectly willing to settle for 'good' and enjoy it. I was saying to SH that I think it's perfectly reasonable to go for good when you haven't had sex at all this year. That's right. No sex all year. I mean, granted I'm the girl who went through multi-year dry spells, but that all changed recently and I'm not of a mind to go back to that time. So yes. Sex, and an ass-whupping is definitely on the table, and probably tied down securely while it thrashes about and curses.
To add to all of this, I had an unfortunate conversation with one of the directors of my practice which made very clear to me that I am not valued at my firm and that basically, it's time to move on. This isn't something that needs to be rushed or sudden, but I think I should probably aim to be in another position at another firm by next year. This will take some forethought and planning and preparation, but since I know it needs to happen, I can start that now. Before I have to start studying for my next exams. Speaking of which, no results yet. I hate waiting.
I can hardly say that I have returned back to normal when I'm not sure there was much normal there to begin with. This half week of work is all a bit of a mess. Getting back 'into' things, since people have left and are leaving left and right. The office doesn't feel quite right anymore. Too much transition and change all at once. And softball just finished for the season. Everything is all still up in the air, and it needs to settle down.
In other news, the government here continues to pursue a stupid and knee-jerk policy that would potentially make me a criminal. I mean, some of the things I wrote here could quite easily fall into their stupid supposed category. You know, I wrote in when they were doing consultation. And apparently, the consultation did not support the initiative, but they just want to go ahead with it anyway. Hello thought police. What the fuck? I understand how it all got going, really I do. But is it not the responsibility of the government to move beyond an emotional level to a rational and higher level? Oh, wait... what am I talking about... Government. Letting citizens down daily since time began.
Speaking of which, I've planned a tryst for the week after next with Mr.Noshow. I'm actually sort of looking forward to it, though looking forward to being soundly thrashed is always a bit bittersweet. There's the anticipation and thrill, and the knowledge you are going to be seriously hurting, even if you like it... well... it's just a tingly mix. We've planned to meet up at a rentable dungeon in London. I'm also looking forward to that aspect. Update will be after it happens of course.
No word on my exam yet. I think I failed. As usual. But if we look at the past, that's probably a good sign, right?
I don't think I'm really back on London time yet...
I'll leave you with something you probably won't think is normal. Snowball snacky cake. SH bought me one (which is really two) for when I arrived in Chicago. I cut it in half so you could understand the wonder. Mmm-mmmm!
Although I've been on the computer, I've not been focused enough to really sit and write long things. Email has been neglected, and also, my blog.
Chicago has been good. The exam was, as all the exams have been, difficult and unfathomable and I have no idea how I did so I could have passed, but I could have failed, but it's over now, so there isn't any more I can do about this particular stab at it.
I hung out for one day before the family festivities with my aunt and uncle and cousins. I went out a couple times with SH and her friends. I saw my friend NC whose wedding I attended in Sienna last year and her husband J which is always nice.
Then the family arrived and it was bar mitzvah madness. The conservative leaning reformed synagogue was a bit more Hebrew than I'm used to or prefer. Though in some way it was nice to go to a service, not having been to one in three years. I used to go most Fridays when I lived in St. Louis. I miss the mental and spiritual recharge of just having a sort of meditative space and moment. I need to get back into yoga I think.
I think my family was a bit upset that I didn't spend more time with them, but it's hard to balance my time when I'm not staying with them either. There were transport issues. Of course no one would lend me their car.
And the week has gone past far too quickly, and tomorrow night I head back to London. I have other things to write about, in respect to the week. And I will when I get back, and get back into my schedule and routine. I also took some pictures I need to upload. So yes I'm alive. And when I get my thoughts in order, I'll write something more witty and substantial. Think good plane thoughts for me blogland. I'll see you again in ole blighty.
Is it life, or do I just mean the large tin can I'm going to get on tomorrow morning? Not sure. I certainly feel like a cog in a great machine at the moment. With almost no rational choice. I am on autopilot. This week has gone too fast, I have no time left. I must go, prepared or not.
I'll have fun once I'm there I'm sure. Well, I'll be relieved just to get there. And really, then I only have to focus on the test, all other thoughts, issues, and problems becomes irrelevant as they are part of my time 'here' and I will be 'there'. In that sense I always like going away, because it's like I exist in an alternate reality. A break from my life for a while. Enough to generally make me quite happy to be coming back to it.
So the next post that will be here will likely be from Chicago. Probably all about how I'm going to fail my exam. Hm... I've heard that before. A broken record? Or just a great machine...
In ten years I'll be the answer to life, the universe, and everything!
Well.
Another year has gone by since I was born. This year it feels a bit strange, like my birthday has already happened, because so much energy went into the house party. Not that there aren't plans for today as well. Probably lunch somewhere, softball after work and a yummy Japanese meal after softball. And if it's raining and softball is cancelled, the meal is still on.
It's a strange year for me I think. Because it's a year where not very much has happened perhaps. I was living the status quo. Work continues to be work, Mr.Aloof featured prominently in an aloof way. I woke up, I lived, I played, I went to sleep. This year I have no vision for. Will it be more of the same or will there be change? The biggest change I could make in my life would be to change jobs. Something that is frequently a consideration. Not because I don't like my job, or my office, but because of how my office sees me. I am not a martyr to someone else's business. I like to be appreciated and taken care of. This is not my current situation.
This was hammered home yesterday by us getting our annual salary reviews, only for me to find that I had no salary review. I received the regular interest-based increase that anyone else got. But nothing else. Even though I have taken on tons more responsibility in the past year, and even though I told them that my salary was not acceptable.
So it's something I need to address at least initially today, will probably really deal with it when I get back. The thing is, I'm tired of fighting with my office for scraps. Knowing I could go to another job in the city with more prestige, more work, and instantly get a 6k increase in salary more than likely. When all I want from my office to make me more content is 2k. They just go that little extra bit too much, that step across what is reasonable and moves into the realm of 'taking the piss'. And it's not at all what I want to deal with. And certainly not on my birthday.
I have hopes for the upcoming year of course. Health. Happiness. I would really like it if I could meet someone and have a 'relationship'. Maybe I'll have to get a new job. I'd like to finally finish my exams and be a licensed architect. It's all a big unknown. Sometimes I think you have to shake up your life a bit in order to really live it. And sometimes I think it's nice to relax into the comfort of a life that you've worked hard to achieve. It's just that I'm still young-ish. I'm not entirely sure what else it is I want to do, but I feel this ball of potential spinning inside of me sometimes, knowing that there is more that I could do. And hoping I find out what it is.
Happy Birthday to me.
