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Well, as suggested it's the post-review blog. Just an hour or so before drink-time, and then a week away in Portugal before I can return to these shores. So lets go for the skinny shall we? I know I haven't written too much about what exactly is going on at work, but I'll try to make it easier for you by giving a synopsis. First, it's important to note that our annual reviews were six months ago. In those, you get critiqued by your line manager and then sit down with two directors to talk about your progress, your work, your salary and whatever else you might want to air out until next year. The short version is, K do good work, K needs more responsibility, K should get her own projects. And glad we could all agree to these principles.
To complicate matters, I should explain that I used to work in a group of five people (1)PH, (2)TC, (4)HvR and (5)CS. Now right after reviews, #2 lets loose that he's leaving the office. Since he was an associate and responsible for distributing work, and a huge micromanager, it seemed positive that if he was going, my ability to get more responsibility and move up in my work-world was looking good.
However, after one small project and another partial project that then got taken away from me, things started going from bad to worse. The main problem being that after TC left, HvR seemed to be pre-selected for kingship while me and CS were left doing the monkey work. Now, everyone has to do a little bit of monkey work every now and then. And I'm not complaining about a little bit here and there, that's part of the joy of my chosen profession. But too much monkey work makes K an angry chimp. Add a lower than acceptable salary package, and I get downright cranky. But I'm a proactive chimp when need be, so when we got our annual raises, I complained thinking I would be growing in responsibility and have good grounds to argue for more money. So all I had to do was wait for projects to come my way. Except, if you followed the second link this paragraph, that's not what happened at all.
So today was the day to tell them that if they don't think I have a place to grow and develop here, I would need to be finding that someplace else. And in typical girl fashion, I could not control my emotion and my voice quavered throughout the entire thing, though thankfully, I did not cry. But honestly, it was all taken pretty well. And I wasn't really disagreed with. And some new information was revealed to me about how HvR was being perceived and so on and so forth. They even almost promised me a project before stopping to say they needed to discuss it with others (which means PH). So, I'm off to drink buckets of port and by the time I get back, hopefully, they'll have come up with a plan.
Good monkey.
My thoughts aren't particularly coherent. I blame the batshit crazy. Not that it's here yet. In no particular order:
- tlsd and I ate an ungodly amount of sushi at YoSushi because they were doing a January 50% off thing. Although it was really fucking good, I'm really fucking stuffed (still, we ate hours ago).
- SH comes tomorrow morning, yay!!
- Review with the directors is tomorrow at 3. I have made a page of notes. I am prepared. I am not looking forward to this.
- Wait, am I actually getting on a plane in just a couple of days? Where the fuck is my xanax? I'm starting to feel sick.
- Mr.Aloof sent me a brief email today apologizing for not calling last night when I knew he wasn't going to anyway. Of course he said he'd call tonight. Has he called? And why does that make me the jackass?
- I really wish I was talented at something. I completely blame this on batshit crazy. I'm feeling like a life-failure for no apparent reason whatsoever.
Anyway, I'm not sure how much I can post while SH is here. Aside from tlsd and Mr.Ball, I have been very good at limiting my even hinting to people who know me that I have a blog. And so most people I know, do not know I have one. Certainly not SH. And anyway, there won't be any blogging from Portugal. So maybe something tomorrow after the review, but then probably nothing for a week. I know, all four or so of you will miss me horribly. On the upside, I look forward to finding things I find funny in Portugal to take pictures of and share with you. Though still, so far, nothing beats Finland.
You'll never see the courage I know
Its colors' richness won't appear within your view
I'll never glow the way that you glow
Your presence dominates the judgments made on you
Like watching sand pass through an hourglass. Inevitable. Expected. Waiting for that slipping and suction that quickens the pace and drags the grains down, falling through the hole, only to wait for it to happen all over again. Some things good and some things not so good. What to start with....
But as the scenery grows I see in different lights
The shades and shadows undulate in my perception
My feelings swell and stretch I see from greater heights
I understand what I am still too proud to mention, to you
Days: ?
Lets start with one of the not so good. Has it already been four goddamn weeks? I guess it has. Welcome back to batshit crazy land. Where all the girls are gnashing their teeth and ready to bite your arm off if you give them half a reason to look at you sideways. To be fair, I'm not there yet, but it's like watching fireworks setting off across the office. First TM was a bit moody on Monday. Then CS had a viscous streak yesterday at lunch. Today tlsd is in a mood. Oh, my turn is coming... I can feel it starting to slip in around the edges, ooze through the cracks.
You'll say you understand
But you don't understand
You'll say you'll never give up seeing eye to eye
But never is a promise and you can't afford to lie
Days: 2
I'll counter that with a good one. SH is coming! How exciting. Over a year now since I've seen her. And I'm looking forward to it. That is, if she can relax. If she can just be herself. If she can shed what seven years of being a lawyer and a somewhat unhappy person can do to a soul. I guess that's my job though, to remind her of the fantastic person that I know is lurking underneath all of that. Remind her what it's like to have fun. Do-able I think. Thank goodness for alcohol!
You'll never touch these things that I hold
The skin of my emotions lies beneath my own
You'll never feel the heat of this soul
My fever burns me deeper than I've ever shown to you
Days: 4
Which inevitably leads to another good thing. Soon, SH and I take off for slightly warmer Portugal. Which I am also very much looking forward to. Except for the flights that is, trying not to think about that part. Just focus on having a real vacation. Someplace I've never been before. I need to do some laundry.
You'll say "don't fear your dreams"
It's easier than it seems
You'll say you'd never let me fall from hopes so high
But never is a promise and you can't afford to lie
Days: 2
But before all that, there is the small matter of the review. With two of the directors at my office. Where I show that I can play ball with the big boys. Where I make veiled threats about finding someplace else to work. Where I put it on the line and look for an answer. And then when I've made my stand, I run away to Portugal for a week where I can fall apart in private.
You'll never live this life that I live
I'll never life the life that wakes me in the night
You'll never hear the message I give
You'll say it looks as though I might give up this fight
Days: ??????
And last but not least, the horrible sinking rushing feeling about how things are going with Mr.Aloof. This is where my batshit crazy is making itself most apparent. I would write him off completely except, and please, no words of scolding lest I turn my evil eye towards you, he has some of my things. And not things that I am at all willing to part with. Not things that he is allowed to keep. And so I cannot let him go, and he will not answer me. I feel as though I am being held hostage, and this I cannot stand. If he wants to end things, if he wants to go, then I will let him, but not with my things. I have to have them back. And so I am bound- more neatly and securely than any rope or cage he has used on me before. And I am boiling.
But as the scenery grows I see in different lights
The shades and shadows undulate in my perception
My feelings swell and stretch I see form greater heights
I realize what I am now too smart to mention, to you
I don't want to be upset about Mr.Aloof. And in some ways I'm not. I'm just tired. And annoyed that I let myself get trapped this way. But he's not evil, and it will be dealt with, eventually. Trust me, I would give almost anything for a pornalong post about now. In the meantime, there is SH, and there is Portugal, and there is at least somewhat interesting twists and turns at work. There is life, and life is for living. Even during batshit crazy week. And it's coming... oh yes, it's coming...
You'll say you understand
You'll never understand
I'll say I'll never wake up knowing how or why
I don't know what to believe in
You don't know who I am
You'll say I need appeasing when I start to cry
But never is a promise and I'll never need a lie
Over the weekend I did some re-vamping of my Informed Consent profile. I recognize that this is a particularly bad sign in regards to the future of my relationship with Mr.Aloof. I've not made my ad active again yet, but I can tell I'm going over hurdles that bring me to that inevitable point. I noticed that I've been posting on threads there more frequently. Reading a bit more than usual. Toying with the possibility, and to be honest, likelihood, that I may soon be actively seeking again.
Of course, actively seeking is a huge pain. Meeting new people is something I generally despise. I won't have any shortage of people sending me memos if past experience is any indication, it's just sifting through the masses of bullshit to find anyone worth getting to know better than cursory. It's not something to look forward to.
And then there are other considerations. Mr.Noshow and Mr.Ball. Still people I converse with, still people I 'know'. Mr.Noshow became obsessed it seems, with having me again, the second I made it clear that I was done with him. Well, not quite that very second, but after he'd had some time to stew over it. If I officially dumped him a year ago, for the past ten months he's been trying to play with me again. Now, I could play with him again, just for the sake of doing it, but he doesn't really offer me anything other than straight play. And his version of play is very regimented it seems. Or proscriptive would perhaps be a better word. Not my preference of style. But available, if I want it.
And then there is Mr.Ball (who reads this blog, hello) who I have met all of twice in the past year. Well, almost a year, in just a few weeks time. I've told him we're on the six month plan, and it's coming up on time to meet again to stick to that schedule. I don't really know what to make of Mr.Ball. We are more friends than anything else, though conversation can be flirty.
And then there is the hypothetical number count that has accumulated in the past year of mostly IM conversations. A tally of slights if you will with the unspoken general understanding of how that tally would be reconciled. Is it all just hyperbole or is there more to it than that? I don't know. I never know.
I hate dating.
That previous picture was not my banana bread, it was a picture of banana bread I found on the web. It looked very similar to how my bread -normally- looks. Normally meaning, when I have cooked it in the past, not in this country, but in my current wonky oven, whose temperature I cannot master, my banana bread got charred, terribly. Once you cut off the blackened crust, it's fine underneath, if a bit dry. But really, I was more than a little put out. And this isn't the first time my oven has failed me in the temperature conversion area. I'm going to need to get an oven thermometer or something. Not that those ever work.
Tlsd and I went to see Narnia today. After we got denied last weekend. We went to the earlier show, and thought that most people will had seen it by now. Most people probably have, only those with sniffling toddlers hadn't however, and thought it would be a good idea to bring them to our show. It was clearly a combination problem of people not bothering to check that it's almost a three hour movie, or knowing the story of Narnia well enough to know it's not really appropriate for the five and under set. Regardless, although I did enjoy the movie, my enjoyment was somewhat diminished by all the bothersome people and their offensive children. Was it wrong to laugh when some of the children were crying when Aslan died?
Tonight I was just going to bum around at home, but SA has called me and invited me to a house warming of one of his coworkers girlfriends which is just north of me in either Stoke Newington or Stamford Hill (he hasn't quite worked it out yet). I figure I may as well go. It would do me to be a bit social and stop mulling over my Mr.Aloof situation.
Here's the thing. I can see when he's been online because he recently (well, not that recently) made a new account on the personals site where we met. And I clocked his new profile and bookmarked it. So even though I may not hear from him for days, I know that he's been on the computer because I can clearly see when he was last online. Today for example. I can see he was on five hours ago, but I haven't heard from him. Before you jump to any conclusions, let me state that I in no way believe he's 'seeing' someone else. I don't think that's it at all. But it is rather curious, what he's doing online all the time, and how he's ignoring me. The thing is, it's my own damn fault for being an internet snoop, even though the information I'm referring to is available to public scrutiny. I'm killing myself by checking it every time I go on the site, which is frequent as I read up on the discussions and blogs there. I did let him know I clocked his new account, but I don't think he's computer savvy enough to know that I can see exactly when he was last on. Do I let him in on this secret? Just so it stops bothering me? I shouldn't. I am not in a position to ask him to 'not be online'. I just wish he wasn't so fucking aloof.
Whatever that is. I am writing this from work. Which I returned to today. I'm sure I could have stayed home another day to milk my kidney stones for all they were worth, but frankly, I was bored. And I figured, it's no big deal to come into work on a Friday- I mean, it's basically already the weekend that way!
Plans for the weekend are minimal. Going to Broadway Market as usual. Going to see Narnia since the theater was closed last week. Hammering out hotel reservations for Portugal with SH. Fun stuff like that. I should also include laundry in that list. And some general cleaning. And possibly some cooking. I feel a banana bread coming on. And possibly some crepes.
I really wish things weren't wacky with Mr.Aloof. I could go for some physical contact. *sigh*
Is it only January? My life seems all in turmoil this year. How did that happen? For that matter, why is 'New Years' so special anyway? It is not at the start of a season, it's only just into winter, and yet it somehow marks the start and end of something. That really doesn't make much sense. But since it's convention, I'll stick with it.
If I had to sum up last year for me, I would probably jokingly call it my 'year of sex'. Not that I had a lot of sex in particular, but it was a lot of sex for me. And interesting sex at that. And sexual exploration. I'm sure as time passes it will be what 2005 represents in my mind. And that's fine by me.
But this year. What has happened? My work situation is thrown up in turmoil as I am seriously debating on a regular basis whether I should stay at my job or look for a new one. My relationship with Mr.Aloof is non-existent. Oh, he's around- don't get me wrong, and it's not 'ended' officially. But I haven't talked with him in what feels like so long or had any real conversation with him, that I recognize he has slipped off my radar. I don't feel anything about him at all. And I don't see that as a particularly good thing. Perhaps that is to be more short-lived than I anticipated. Then there's my health. A hospital visit and three days at home.
Coming up SH is arriving next week and the two of us are jetting off to Portugal on a Ryanair special which should be good fun. But who knows. Given how my year is going the plane will either crash or one of us will fall off a cliff or develop food poisoning or something. I feel as though I should be wary of this new year. So far, it's been a mixed bag.
My entire life before coming to the UK I have only been to the hospital once. When I was eight or so, because I had the flu and my mother was worried about me. Last year, right before the new year, I was in the hospital for a rather memorable occasion that I described here. Really, that was a cake-walk compared to my Monday night. Or, really, it wasn't. Just something entirely different.
I've been having what I thought was lower back pain for a few days. Bad cramping and uncomfortable feelings. Sunday night the pain actually woke me up from sleep which I found unusual and disturbing. But Monday I was just downing lots of water thinking maybe it was something with my kidneys and I would flush it out. And Monday seemed to go well, until the afternoon when I got a horrible attack of pain. So I called my GP for an emergency appointment and left work.
On the way to the GP, I was having such bad pain on the bus I thought I would pass out. I managed to find a position where the pain wasn't so severe and it lessened and passed. I made it to the GP and explained what had been going on and he said to me it sounded like kidney stones. Charming. So he wanted a urine sample and gave me a prescription for pain medication. After peeing I started to feel the pain come on again. By the time I'd left the GP I was hobbling to the pharmacy. By the time I got home, the pain was excruciating. By the time I got upstairs to my bedroom I was incoherent.
I ended up puking up whatever was left of my lunch and then some. Barely able to make the three meter journey from my bedroom to the toilet. I couldn't take the pain pill, I couldn't drink water, I couldn't find any position that was remotely comfortable and I was writhing on the floor. I figured I needed to go to the hospital but could barely figure out how I was going to do that. I called tlsd but she wasn't answering. I called my neighbor but she wasn't answering either. I went and puked some more. Then I called emergency. They patched me through to the ambulance people who called and wanted to know why I couldn't get around the corner myself. Crying hysterically on the phone I pointed out if I could get around the corner on my own, I wouldn't have called emergency and since I was crying and in obvious pain they said they'd send someone, but it was a busy night.
I managed to get myself downstairs in preparation for emergency people coming- and found myself stuck at the bottom of the stairs writhing and sobbing in pain. My neighbor returned my call and I asked her to come over. She saw the state of me, well, that and I had to crawl to the door to open it, not being able to stand, and said she would call a cab to take me to the hospital. She got her sons to help me get out the door and my jacket on me and some shoes. I was now hobbling down the walk and puking into a Sommerfield bag. About halfway down the stairs, the ambulance showed up. So we cancelled the cab and they strapped me into a chair on the stair landing and carried me the rest of the way to the ambulance.
Getting inside, they transferred me from chair to gurney and tried to give me some air thing to breathe that was supposed to help the pain slightly but wasn't. It wasn't a very long ride and I don't remember much of it aside from trying to breathe and crying with the pain. We got to the hospital and they took me out in the gurney and into the A&E, wheeling me into one of the exam cubes after a brief discussion with whoever was distributing cases to rooms. They wanted to get a line into my arm and take some blood and also get me on some pain medication. The line went in without too much trouble, but no blood was coming out. I was shaking so bad from the pain that they said they'd try some pain relief before trying for blood again.
So the nurse or SHO came in to give me my first pain medication- in the form of a suppository. I tell you what, I didn't even care, if it was going to make it better, that was all that mattered. So over I rolled and in it went and I waited, searching the pain in my body for the slightest change in intensity. None was forthcoming. I was still in a terrible amount of pain. They injected an anti-nausea drug into the line in my arm which made me feel slightly better and then I got a different pain drug injected into the line in my arm. None of which felt nice being pushed into the line, but certainly nothing compared to the amount of pain I was in.
The guy came back and managed to get a little bit of blood out of my other arm after two attempts. They left me alone in the cube and I felt an intense need to puke again, even though I knew there wasn't anything to throw-up. So I managed to get myself off the gurney and grab one of the vomit bowls stacked in the corner, return to the gurney and dry heave into the bowl. I could hear someone else heaving somewhere in the A&E which was almost funny as I think we pushed each other onto it a bit with the noise, or, it would have been funny if I could think coherently.
Eventually I found a position that I could bear staying still in even though I was still hurting and managed to doze off a little bit. My neighbor appeared at this point, having given her boys dinner and then come to see how I was doing at the hospital. I also got my third dose of pain killer at this point. At some point I got a fourth injection of painkiller which by now had been upgraded to morphine. And eventually the doctor came to do an exam. He said I needed some xrays to make sure that I wasn't having any sort of blockage- and that they had to do this by injecting me with dye. The pain started to be bad again, so he said I could have another dose of morphine, but they took me off to xray before I got it.
So in the xray area I was in complete agony again needing to hold still and lay flat (which was the most painful) while they took the various xrays. Then I got injected with dye and had to wait for it to absorb until the next round so I curled up in a ball on the xray table in pain. They got the final xrays and wheeled me back to A&E but instead of to the cube I was put in the observation room. At that time, I was the only person in there even though the room was capable of holding four others. I think I was given my missing morphine at that point and I must have passed out. I know my neighbor left, but I don't remember anyone coming to look at the xrays, but when I came to they were gone.
They kept me there overnight. I woke up every hour or two in mild pain, but not as severe as it was. At some point the new on-call doctor came and told me that the xray had been clear and there was no blockage. So they kept me overnight and gave me some more painkillers around 4am on request. Throughout the night others were put into the observation room so that it was full by morning. I got breakfast and a box of codeine and then they said they would release me.
I got tlsd to meet me at the hospital and help me get home by way of my GP so I could drop off the hospital note which included a request for a further scan at some point, and I've been home all day since.
Apparently kidney stones and childbirth are the most painful things you can go through. Trust me when I tell you this experience gives me no additional desire to experience the latter.
So I had a post halfway written already- when T, our office junior went to moving some file cabinet or another that is by my desk and proceeded to unplug my computer. This of course meant that I lost all my well thought out and crafted sentences from before. Now I just have to regurgitate the previous. So sad.
Today my hair is straight. Yesterday, I got a haircut and the stylist offered to blow it out for me at the end. I figured, I haven't had straight hair for about three years now, so it seemed like a fun thing to do. I couldn't stop looking at myself in every mirror and reflective surface I passed. And frequently touched my head which feels ever so different with my fine hair hanging straight as opposed to the usual curl.
Yesterday I also cooked a Japanese meal which turned out reasonably well. I say reasonably because the cut of beef I selected for my negimaki was not the cut I should have picked and a bit too gristly and thick to behave correctly. Of course to me, this ruined the entire meal, even though the eggplant and peppers in miso sauce and the rice and the dessert came out very well. No, ruined I tell you, all because of gristle.
So I slept on my straight hair- and it has stayed mostly straight, and so have worn it into work, much to the amusement of the people I work with. From the "Wow, that looks so much better!" to the "Oh no- it's going to go back right?", everyone seems to have their own opinions and there is not consensus one way or the other. Still, it's entertaining. It also looks much lighter (I got it colored as well) than it will when it goes back to curly. I don't know why, it just does.
So now I am at work, which is annoying me as usual. Waiting for PH to sign off on my fucking holiday request so i can tell SH that we are all good for Portugal in two weeks time. And frankly, that trip needs to start being planned, so I really wish PH would pull the thumb out and sign already. It's ridiculous to keep waiting but apparently he wants to talk to MG- oh I know, maybe I'm going to be fired... yeah... that's what it must be.
Oh well, the weekend wasn't long enough, and here I am again.... at least I can entertain myself today by touching my hair. It'll be gone tomorrow!
How depressing to know at the beginning that it will already be far too short. The end of this week has been simply mad at work. And no fun. But I won't bore you with the stories about how everyone pissed me off. Suffice to say, I've just been busy, and sometimes busy isn't a bad thing.
Plans for the weekend include the regular re-established trip to Broadway Market and also going to see Narnia before it leaves the theaters. I'm also going to call Toni & Guy and see if my regular stylist is available for a haircut, as it's been far too long now, as usual.
I may start studying for my next two exams, and I need to do some laundry as well as some house cleaning. Nothing really exceptional planned. On Sunday I know that I'll be lamenting work on Monday and thinking that weekends are never long enough.
One thing of note for the weekend is that SH is supposed to be calling and planning a trip to come visit in two weeks. When we are hoping to jump off to Portugal for a week (if my boss will sign my holiday request form that is). So that was rather unexpected and exciting- we were just saying online that it's been over a year since we've seen each other. And I've never been to Portugal.
I am always amused when British people in London say "It's cold.". It's not fucking cold. It's rarely ever what I would consider cold. Now this? This my friends, is fucking cold. (13 feet of snow have fallen on Nagano Prefecture, Japan- Jiji Press/Agence France-Presse_Getty Images/New York Times)
Recently I decided to add a list of the people whose blogs I read over there on the lower right. When I first made my blog, I made a conscious decision to not include links to other peoples blogs, thinking that it perpetuated a tit for tat culture. But then some people had my blog in their links and I started to feel like maybe this particular brand of stubbornness wasn't worthwhile.
In truth, I read an eclectic mix of blogs. From people I know, to people whose activities interest me, and yes, to people who have found my blog and linked me or commented. I read something recently in kybrunos blog wondering if the only reason people leave comments in a blog is because they are reciprocating on a comment you may have made in their blog.
In fairness, sometimes, the answer is 'YES'. But does that make the comment or the interest less valid? By nature, humans tend to be highly egotistical and self-centered. I have an invisible stat-counter on this site as well. I know who comes and goes, and generally how they got here. I'm always fascinated by what got plunked into a search engine to lead people to me, considering the variety of items discussed in my postings. More often than not, someone was searching out a bdsm term or phrase and they got linked to one of my pornalong posts. Occasionally someone may be looking up a new movie I may have gone to see, or talking about current events that I may have mentioned. And if they link to me, from their blog, then I go backwards and find what it is they had to say. Because I am curious- what is it that other people find interesting about me and my boring life?
I've said it before, in general, this blog for me is the best procrastination tool ever.
I write here because I am bored a good chunk of the time. And I can't seem to find anything else that takes up time and my interest. I am no stranger to journal writing, having kept one since age six (and still keeping one now though it's been woefully neglected of late). We all have conversations with invisible people, friends who aren't present, higher beings, etc. A blog is very similar to these self-absorbed and narcissistic musings with one critical difference- occasionally, the ether answers back.
Unless you count the three hours that I spent on the phone with SH last night without using a phone card. That's going to hurt. And a happy chanukah to her, and she doesn't even realize it. But anyway, yesterday I realized that the hormonal rampage I had been on was at an end. Things that had seemed so unbelievably true and important and all encompassing last week now seem perhaps a little bit silly.
I was off my rocker about Mr.Aloof. If he has shown me one true thing about himself in the eleven months I've known him, it is that he is consistently inconsistent. He disappears. It's just what he does. SH pointed this out and she also pointed out that it is never ever a good thing to 'need' to see someone- in my case in particular if it has to do with being insecure. Her point was that you cannot rely on someone else for your sense of self and well-being and importance, that these are things that have to come from within you. Even though we had new things going on, it doesn't change the basic premise, and being less hormonal, I came to see that this was completely true. I think what I realize with him is just that I need to get my things back from his house. That when I see him, for the time being, that's cool, and when it's over, and it will likely be over, probably sometime during this long year, it will just be over and I will hopefully be ready to move on to something perhaps slightly more involved than just so casual and unreliable.
I also did a little bit of retail therapy yesterday at the London Fetish Fair. I wasn't really in the mood for going as yesterdays post should attest. But I then scheduled to meet up with a friend N who I met 'on the scene' and whom I haven't seen in ages. I texted her that I didn't really want to go in, but that I would come down and meet her for coffee or something. But by the time I met her at the venue she convinced me to just come on in and so I sucked it up and paid the five pound cover and was glad I did. The new venue is pretty nice and there are a few more stalls than at the old venue. Walked around looking at all sorts of very nice things and then got it into my head to try on a corset from the same guy I bought my last corset from. This one being in all black brocade with sort of silver pattern on it so it's slightly light reflective. It's also more substantial than my previous one, having metal stays instead of plastic. At any rate, the man selling corsets cinched me into this thing and I felt positively bullet proof. And I loved it. So, of course I had to buy it. Perhaps Mr.Aloof will get to enjoy it, or perhaps the next person to come along, or who knows we'll just see. Now I just need to learn how to lace it up myself- this one laces in the back, and it needs to go tight tight tight. Perhaps I'll give it a go and post about my experiments.
The next thing I find I'm becoming obsessed with is cooking beef negimaki. I don't know why. It came upon me last week that I really wanted to try and make some, so I started looking at internet recipes. I found one that seemed alright. It will be a slightly involved recipe that involves tieing up your food with string before you cook it. Still, it's so damn yummy, and I'm so completely obsessed, I think I'm just going to have to make it.
I brought some work home that I should do today. I've only just gotten myself up and showered and dressed and it's almost noon. Which is generally unheard of for a morning person. Yesterday I went to Broadway Market and picked up some tasty things. It had been over a month since I'd been there. So it was nice to go back. I then spent a good chunk of the day with SA. First running some errands with him and then later, going to see Brokeback Mountain with him and some of his friends. I enjoyed the movie very much, though I'm not sure watching scenes of unrequited love was in my best interest, it at least got me out and doing something.
Today I am debating going to the London Fetish Fair or just staying home. A week or so ago, I was dead set on going to the LFF, but that was before all this mess happened. I'm sort of afraid now that I'll go and it'll be sad and depressing. I asked tlsd if she would go with me, but she's busy. So it's go on my own or don't go at all. I'm not sure I'm in the mood to be singled out as alone and feel isolated. So I don't think I'll be going.
Maybe I can manage to drag myself over to Tescos to pick up some needed groceries. Though I should peruse my cookbooks first and find inspiration to buy things. I don't have much that's easy to eat in my house at the moment. Though lots of things that need other ingredients to make a complete dish. How typical.
Anyway, there isn't too much to update on. Just a sorry slow weekend.
The hormone charge has not made this a pleasant week for me. In addition, I have been dealing with a new Mr.Aloof situation that has made me particularly unhappy. The short version of the story is that it seems to me that he is ending our relationship, such as it is, even though that's not actually what he's said, it is how it seems to me.
This week has been difficult because after our night with M, I really just wanted to talk to him. To touch base and get some sort of reassurance about the stability of 'us'. One of those dangers with a threesome. The thing is, it didn't bother me at the time, it didn't even bother me the day after. It only started to bother me as the days passed and he fastidiously ignored me. That was when the doubt started to creep in and take hold. And my need of him has coincided with yet another difficult time in his life when he just wants to tune out and drop off the face of the planet. Which I've dealt with every other time, but this time it's crap.
So Friday I just told him I was coming down to see him and he emailed me back saying he didn't want me to come. Why is it that I want to see him, he doesn't want to see me, and he gets his way? How come he isn't the one acquiescing and seeing me, even if he doesn't want to? Why am I expected to be patient, to give him time, to suck it up? Maybe I'm tired of that. Maybe I want things my way for once.
Anyway, this is just one point of many. He wrote to me saying he was debating the continuation of the scenario side of his life, of his dominant manifestation. He said, "I guess life is learning of things, exploring them, and tiring of them. Then finding something else. I think soon, I want something else." Now tell me how the fuck I'm not supposed to take that personally? How does that not read that he is tiring of me? But he doesn't have the stones to just come out and say that he's tired of me. Tlsd doesn't think he's tired of me. She says that I'm reading into it. But that's all I can see.
And in the meantime I wait. And stew. And hurt. And resolve that it's over. That he's done with me. That I need to start the healing process now, before it's finalized so as not to prolong this horrible state. Of course, if it's not abundantly clear to you reader, I don't want it to be over now. I don't know what I wanted from him in the long run, but I don't feel that we've explored all that we could. But it seems to me he feels that way perhaps. Whatever. It obviously has nothing at all to do with what I want. That's one thing that's blatantly obvious.
What an unpleasant way to start the new year.
I have been thinking recently about a conversation I had with S ages ago. I'm sure the conversation came about because we were talking about old George Dubya and the morons who voted for him. In particular what we were discussing is his mass appeal as the 'Everyman'. And what we both agreed on without any debate is that in general, without exception, we both expect that the elected leader of any group should always be BETTER than average.
I was reminded of this conversation by two things. First, the media hubbub over the admission by Lib Dem leader Charles Kennedy that he has an alcohol problem. And second, a forwarded email from this guy I knew in St. Louis about the criminal records of congressmen. Which leads to the problematic position of whether you hold someone accountable for their wrongs in perpetuity or you allow people their past mistakes.
Certainly, no one is perfect. And where we to expect any political leader to be pristine and clean from birth to election, there would be no political leader to elect. Still, where does one draw the line on forgivable to unforgivable? And when does an illness or a mistake or simple shear stupidity make someone ineligible for leadership, if ever?
I suppose this is particularly ponderous for me as I come from a place where all children are taught that they can 'be anything they want to be' and generally I think this is a good thing. But should we just allow that some people should NOT be allowed to do certain things? In a way we already do this with the mentally impaired or others with physical disabilities that prohibit them from a given job, though they are often found fighting for their right to an equal opportunity. It's a difficult subject to come to a firm answer on.
Still, back to Dubya, I really never want a fucking C student as the leader of the free world. That's just stupid.
There is nothing more insulting than to know you are being controlled by your hormones. My cycles have never been regular, so it's not something I know how to anticipate or prepare for. Usually I start to notice that I have far less patience or tolerance for things that I would normally be able to tolerate. Then I notice that I feel particularly mean and evil and vicious. These grouchy feelings of irritation are almost always accompanied by my stomach being upset as well and a change in my regular toilet activity which doesn't please me either. And then perhaps, a week after I notice these things, a week of suffering through the annoyance of having a period.
It has been four weeks since my last period, so it's probably due.
I've wanted to kill everyone who annoys me recently, in a particularly violent and gruesome fashion, so it's probably due.
Not only are other people annoying me, but everything about myself is annoying me, so it's probably due.
I feel achy and generally out of sorts, so it's probably due.
Things that should make me happy are not making me happy because I'm just sitting around being miserable, so it's probably due.
I have a hard time listening to other people and feel more self absorbed than usual, so it's probably due.
Stupid fucking hormones.
Gold teeth and a curse for this town were all in my mouth.
Only, I don't know how they got out, dear.
Turn me back into the pet that I was when we met.
I was happier then with no mind-set.
It is certainly true in the field of architecture and the American education system (I can't speak for the British) that school does not prepare you for the experience of the doldrums of working day in and day out year in and year out in an office.
And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, I'd 'a jumped from my tree
And I'd a danced like the king of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.
While there are elements of my job that are exciting and interesting, and are representative of what I worked so hard at learning for years and years, there are also moments of sheer and utter boredom. Filing. Editing. Coloring. The work of the infamous 'monkey'.
New slang when you notice the stripes, the dirt in your fries.
Hope it's right when you die, old and bony.
Dawn breaks like a bull through the hall,
Never should have called
But my head's to the wall and I'm lonely.
I suppose there are some people who are happy to be done with school. To put it all behind them. And there are certainly things I don't miss about being a student. All the requirements of the things that I wasn't really interested in. Like structures. Which I'm regretting now as I begin to start thinking about my next two exams.
And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, I'd 'a jumped from my tree
And I'd a danced like the kind of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.
Why is it that work isn't about learning? How is it that we all become these drones that get up in the morning and get ourselves into work and punch a clock and eat our lunches and go home so that we can do it all over again?
God speed all the bakers at dawn
May they all cut their thumbs,
And bleed into their buns
'Till they melt away.
Youth is wasted on the young I guess. But we don't do ourselves any favors either. We set ourselves up for mundanity before we've given ourselves a chance it seems. Maybe it's hope that's wasted on the young.
I'm looking in on the good life I might be doomed never to find.
Without a trust or flaming fields am I to dumb to refine?
And if you'd 'a took to me like
Well I'd a danced like the queen of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.
So I'm back on the clock. And it's forty minutes until lunch. My time is no longer my own. At least tlsd is back. Good thing too since half the office still isn't. Though in some cases, that's a welcome absence.
Work is alright. I had only good intentions yesterday and this morning about how I would be good about work, but we can all see how that's going.
I'm slightly preoccupied with my annoyance with Mr.Aloof and I am feeling highly destructive. It's what happens when annoyance reaches its peak. I have a spectacular ability to destroy things- particularly relationships and such. I'm reigning it all in by just a thread. A thread that keeps threatening to break. I've already been harsher with him than I've ever been before. It's just that my compulsion is to keep beating that horse until its bloody and unconscious. Not to give him time to respond at his own pace. I'm sick of his pace. I want answers and placating and I want it now. Or I will destroy everything we have.
The thing is, he deserves this. Even if some of my intensity is hormone fueled (which is not verified at the moment) it doesn't let him off the hook. I don't want this all to implode. I don't want to lose him. But I don't want to feel like this either. Fuck.
So tomorrow it's back to work. I'm not ready. I have many things to do today- mainly the work I had brought home that I didn't do during my last week at the office. I could easily take the rest of this week off. Hell, I could easily never work again- withdraw from the world, hang out in my flat and do nothing. Now that would be wasteful.
I am not starting the new year with a good mental outlook. I find I'm in a bad mood. I am hoping it's hormones but I know a large part of it is because I'm annoyed with Mr.Aloof who has pulled yet another disappearing act. I hate that he does this. And he always comes back with some reasonable excuse for why he was busy- but not why he was out of touch. And of course I say to him, just tell me when it's happening, not after the fact, and he goes and does the same thing again.
And yes, I know this is grounds for walking away, but I'd much prefer that it was fixed. It seems like such a stupid thing. But it does make me very unhappy. Whatever.
I also woke up feeling slightly ill. This isn't helping my mood either. I ordered Indian last night and while it was tasty, I woke up thinking that it was still with me and not digesting very well. So that's no good.
I'm just grumpy. Please let it be hormones, and then please let it be over fast!
So S&M are probably at Victoria station by now, getting on the Gatwick Express on their way back to Texas. It was really good to have them, they were easy guests to host, and it had been far too long since we'd seen each other.
Yesterday we ended up going to Borough Market and then walked along the Thames past the Globe and onto the Tate Modern where I bought a book by Banksy on his work. Then we walked across the Millennium Bridge to St. Paul's and it was home from there. We changed and they packed a bit, and then we went to meet S&C at the Dove on Broadway Market for dinner which was nice before heading back to S&C's place which is right on London Fields for New Years (and S's 30th birthday!) drinks and celebrating, and a handful of other people showed up as well. We watched the London fireworks on TV, and then we slowly took our leave and ended up back at mine just past one. Of course for some reason I thought this was a good time to read through my entire new book so I didn't get to sleep until half past two and they had to be up at seven thirty, and I've been awake ever since. Sometimes it's hard to be a morning person- once you are up, you are up.
Now seeing as how I did nothing before S&M's arrival, I actually have some things that I should be getting around to over the next couple days. Of course, all I want to do is curl up in bed or in front of the television and do some crosswords or something. And I can tell you now, I so do not want to be going back to work on Tuesday. Bleh!
Oh yeah, and happy 2006!!
