30 May 2008

Blue Friday

Today I am dressed in what a friend of mine refers to as 'The Canadian National Uniform'. Blue jeans and a jean jacket and somehow I ended up with a blue top as well, though some friends of mine insist that it's green, I say it's blue. The overall impression? Obviously that I am Canadian. This is not a good thing.

I guess I don't care that much about appearance most of the time. This is probably because I think I am not all that attractive and there's something that comes to mind about pearls on a pig. I don't think I'm ugly, I think I'm probably just average. Which is probably good considering how much media garbage is thrown at women these days. Still, from time to time I think I should make more of an effort with my clothes, but most of the time I don't.

And what can I say? The Canadian National Uniform is very comfortable.

So what else. I'm writing this at work. I really shouldn't do that now that they monitor everything. But I'm bored and a little bit annoyed and it's Friday for fucks sake. It really isn't the best move for your office to tell you that "there is no place for you to advance here" because it really just means that I've stopped caring then. I mean if you aren't even going to give me the opportunity what the hell do I care? Clearly I don't. I can't say enough about bad management and it's relation to employee satisfaction. Often it's not even something that would cost the employer anything but recognition goes a long way. That's all I'm saying.

In other news, not that I've been looking, but I've had some nibbles in the online dating world. First of all, why the fuck do vegetarians keep contacting me? I love food. I mean, I love food and I'd even go so far as to say it's one of my life passions. So it's hard to even consider dating someone who I can't really share that passion with. This is of course slightly inflamed by having dated a judgemental vegetarian for three months which really put me out of sorts with the whole gang. Still, I have great friends who eat out with me who are vegetarian, so it's possible I'm overreacting but still, where are the men who love the meat? Not contacting me, that's where.

And secondly, British guys are strange. Okay- you meet someone on an online dating site. Obviously communication is mostly through the electronic medium which requires the ability to generate a conversation. If you don't say anything, there isn't anything to say back and the conversation dies in the water. I frequently come across British guys who all suggest that I "seem to ask an awful lot of questions.". Okay. But you aren't asking fuck all. So how are we supposed to get to know each other? Sending blank emails back and forth seems not very useful. But seriously, I know I'm missing something here because British people do meet online and date, but obviously don't ask each other questions. Do they just randomly talk about themselves then and not respond to what the other person wrote? Oh to be a fly on the electronic wall. I'd learn so much.

And last, still mourning my broken heart and still being very angry about things and still having about a million made up conversations in my head (which is better because it's about a million less than previously) but still. It's not easy to get over being betrayed and rejected. It really isn't. And I burn with indignation that he thinks he's happy. He deserves anything but. But as per my previous post, I must trust in the Universe. It's trying to tell me something.

Right. Should probably stop this now. Back to work.

28 May 2008

Instant Karma

I have spent a disproportionate amount of time this week and last thinking about karma. Mostly this has been in respect to Mr.Aloof and how one of the last things I said to him was that I wished him karma (this was ostensibly in response to the fact that he 'wished me well'). The thing is, I really do wish him karma. Worse, I feel I have a vested interest in knowing that the Universe rights itself and that people who do bad things are punished.

In particular if they do bad things to me.

I was talking with someone this weekend who said something quite striking in this regard, which to paraphrase was along the lines of, "I have gone out of my way to be nice and considerate and to do the right thing. So where the fuck is my reward for being a good person?". And this is a sentiment that I agree wholeheartedly with. Though of course, I must keep reminding myself that really most aspects of my life are actually pretty swell. It is really a very narrow band of my existence, mainly my intimate relationships and my reflections upon myself that are the main issues. Which isn't too bad all things considered, life could be a lot worse.

But still, this thought plagues me. I have related it to people the past few days by saying that I feel like a small child who stamps her foot and has a tantrum saying "That's not fair!". And it's true- life isn't fair. I would have thought I learned this lesson a long time ago, but apparently it hasn't really sunk in. So instead I find I cling to this belief that bad things must happen to people who treat others badly. Unfortunately, I am not entirely convinced that this is the case, so I fall into somewhat obsessive behavior of following people I have known in the past to... what? To somehow find out that they get their just reward.

So odd I suppose that while this topic is hot on my mind, not one but two examples of what could be construed as karmic retribution have been brought to my attention.

The first is a very old ex-friend of mine. I dare say at this point we have been 'not friends' for as long as we were friends and if I say I knew her for eight years, that should give you some idea. At any rate, I have checked her out online from time to time and last year at some point became aware that she was on Facebook. Well I knew there was no chance in hell she would friend me, so instead I got S to friend her which she accepted. I think she worked things out fairly quickly however, and while S tried to engage her in conversation she went quiet. Which wasn't entirely unexpected. But on the other hand, she never unfriended S. So this past week, S informs me that my ex friend removed the relationship status portion of her profile which would be the bit where she says she's married. This isn't something you accidentally do. And when I considered the possibilities of her no longer being married, I felt that perhaps karma had come to visit my old friend, and I felt... vindicated. Of course, it may be nothing at all, but one can hope.

The second incident was a bit closer to home as some unfortunate karma came back to my father. The thing is, while I know that he is all worked up about the injustice being done to him, the fact is, he has made a habit of cheating the system and trying to get away with things. While he would never accept this most recent circumstance as his just reward for such behavior, I can't help but think it myself. He has not behaved in a fair or considerate manner and karma has returned to him.

And so I wonder what it might be that the Universe is trying to tell me. Every now and then I think there are messages in the coincidence. Since retribution for Mr.Aloof has been high on my mind, it seems slightly unusual that two examples of retribution both known to me, were revealed this particular week at this particular time. I think the Universe is telling me to trust it. That people reap what they sow. Even if it takes a long time, it comes around eventually.

Or as another friend said to me, perhaps he will just come back in his next life as an abused child or something.

26 May 2008

Bank Holiday Sunday

Today is Monday. It's raining, again, and fairly hard. So it looks like I won't be going out much today even though I'm supposed to hang out with T. Don't know what we're going to do, but it will not involve the outdoors.

Yesterday however, was a lovely day. Readers know that this has not been the best of weeks- and as much as I'm getting through things, I also sort of feel like I'm going through the motions a bit. And then on top of that, pretty much all of my friends know what's been going on, which means even when I get out to go do something, the conversation inevitably turns to the topics at hand. Although in fairness, I'm just as likely to bring it up myself as it's pretty much on my mind.

At any rate, particularly obsessive readers will have seen a passing comment go by earlier this week from Louche in regards to cookies. Obviously making reference to the great cookie drop. And I daresay a distracting adventure was probably a very good plan indeed. So after some communication during the week, it was decided the drop would be on Sunday. In the morning some additional communication indicated that it would be after lunch by the Museum of Childhood which although not particularly far from me, is a place I had never been.

So around two or so I got a text saying the drop was to take place in thirty minutes. I made my way down to the Museum and got there a bit early so was somewhat perplexed as to how to proceed. I didn't want to bump into the dropper by mistake, and unlike last time, I would recognize him. So I busied myself lurking along the edges of the museum and waiting the next instruction.

I happened to be upstairs when I got a text saying to go to the BP sign which is across the street from the museum. I could actually see it from where I was in the building, so I put on my large sunglasses and headed outdoors. The sign was not very remarkable. While there was a lot of rubbish strewn around the base, there was nothing that seemed like a cookie package or a sign or message of any sort. So I waited on the wall and glanced around. I then received a series of texts saying to go to the entrance of the museum, and then to examine the wall to the right of the entrance. I did so, moving calmly and without haste. Peering over the wall, I saw a yellow-topped Tupperware container and no sooner did I get it than a woman unknown to me came up and asked for a cookie! And thus the circle was complete.

So the three of us went to have a proper look at the museum which is a bit strange really. The only thing I had heard about it before is something I can now confirm- the museum of childhood is a cruel place to take children as the majority of the toys are all behind glass cases and there isn't lots and lots for children to do which means they end up running around screaming a lot with all the excitement that's generated from seeing things they can't play with. There were also some strange and disturbing exhibits- some dolls that were particularly sinister or contorted as though with palsy and then there was a very, very strange area that looked like a strip club. The only thing it was really missing was a pole, but there were these pseudo-poles, so really, it wasn't that far off. Why this was included in the museum of childhood was really a bit beyond me. But then it provided excellent entertainment value for us, so good enough really.

We then wandered up to the Corner Cafe to have beverages and cakes which was nice and during that time, Woo got a text from a friend about a party later in the evening. After some very quick back and forth it was determined that we should all attend this part which would be at Shoreditch House a bit later. So we finished up our snacks, headed back to the car and parted ways in order to freshen up a bit.

In the interim I got an invitation to catch up with another friend, so I freshened up a bit quicker than I had originally intended then went out to my local to meet up with F, who, as I suggested at the start of this long tale, is one of the friend's checking in on me and my well being after the troubling week. And it was nice to catch up, though it was a bit quick, and then I was off to Shoreditch.

We met outside the club and pushed our way inside and into an elevator only to be struck by a cavernous expanse of club on the fifth floor. It was moderately astounding as one room or area seemed to lead on to another room or area and the entire space seemed endless and expansive. We managed to find a very nice cozy corner of sofas and plush chairs and settled in for a bit.

Later on we explored the sixth floor, and had a minor adventure trying to get out of the building. Outside, we went to a car where we lost one member and then three of us went to Loungelover to get a beverage. I was surprised we managed to get a table, which was nice, but then perhaps I wasn't paying attention to just how late it was. One of us was, and had to dash off prior to drinking which is a shame because the drinks there are extremely fabulous, but the two of us remaining got a drink and just chatted away into the evening swapping personal histories and information in the way that only women do. And it was really lovely.

Then home then sleep and now it's raining and I thought I'd put this update together while I wait to hear from T since we are supposed to hang out today. Boo hiss to work tomorrow.

23 May 2008

Deception and more Deception

Another layer revealed. Another stone turned. It's not possible to hurt further. The damage is done. Still, when the people you were supposedly seeing make a new profile on IC and don't share the name with you and start posting.... it's fairly clear they are hiding from you no? Particularly when this profile was made six fucking months ago. Six goddamn months. In one of their posts about polyamory they speak of how it's the fundamental honesty that makes it work. Fucking cunting asshole shitfaced ratfuckers. Where was your honesty to me? Cowards. Fucking rotten worthless cowards. I wish upon you evil things for the betrayal and disrespect you have given me.

Four Day Weekend

I took the day off work. So far I have spent most of it sleeping. S is coming over so we can have lunch together and hang out a bit. I think she should be here soon actually. I'll make this short.

I'm feeling a little bit better than the total destruction I felt earlier in the week, but I'm still obsessing somewhat badly. It's funny, on Saturday, after my therapy appointment what I thought I wanted to bring up with the therapist this week was my obsessive nature. How little did I know that it would surge to the surface in such a dramatic way.

I can't stop having made up conversations with Mr.Aloof in my head. Or the others who are involved. I keep repeating portions of what I have already said to him, turning the phrases over in my mind again and again. This process is not helpful. It doesn't make me feel better, and I have real trouble stopping it.

Mostly though now, I feel more numb to the whole thing. As if my brain has shut down a portion of itself for self-preservation. That's fine. I don't mind that. And it's helping with other aspects of life. I'm simply not thinking about the new cyst at all. I mean really, at all. I'll deal with it when I have my next appointment and with what they say to me when they say it.


Okay, now it's the end of the day. I put this on hold as S turned up. We spent a good portion of the day talking about Mr.Aloof and me (of course). I teared up a number of times. It's just so difficult not to blame myself. Not to take his rejection and lack of ability to give me what I wanted as proof that I am irreversibly unlovable. I mean, I felt like that before of course, but to find out that they were seeing someone else all this time? Giving her everything that we had talked about me having with them? How does one not take that as proof of personal failure? There must be something wrong with me, otherwise he could have loved me.

The point is, this is how I feel. I understand that it's not particularly sensible. I understand that if I looked at another friend in a similar situation I would rail against the horrible person who treated them so badly and refuse to consider that it was the fault of my friend (this situation has happened before, so it's not that hard to imagine). But I cannot make the same mental leap for myself. For me, I blame myself. I see this rejection as absolute proof as my unsuitability and worthlessness.

So why did I hold out for so long? Perhaps to never face up to that fact. If ever he had changed his ways or come around to being good to me all of the time, instead of rarely, then it would have proved to me that I was not worthless. Instead, I put up with shit behavior for far too long and in the end, I feel like a failure just the same.

Fucking mess.

Therapy tonight. And three days left of the weekend. Thank god.

20 May 2008

Bad Things Come in Threes

To be fair, I wasn't going into the weekend with much enthusiasm. I just wanted to chill out and relax and reflect a little bit. I think therapy does this to you. Especially in the early stages as you dig up all sorts of things that then swill around in your mind in the time in between. All this talk of relationships. All my missing of Mr.Aloof. Still, as awful as things had been between us, I thought I was getting through it alright. Pervasive sadness yes, but moving on.

So on Sunday, I got an email from him. I thought this was very strange. It turned out to be junk mail- his mailbox had been spammed. This happened once before and let me to finding a way to get in touch with L since he'd never give me her contact information. At any rate, I looked at the names and noticed the new ones. Many with bdsm sort of leanings, probably from IC- some I recognized. So I looked those people up on IC. And as it turns out, one of them, had a peculiar profile describing things that seemed far too coincidental to be a coincidence. So I delved into her posts further, seeing as she is a frequent poster. To cut to the chase, she's been seeing them for at least four months. Regularly. Hasn't gone a fortnight without them as a matter of fact. Sharing scenario fun as well as vanilla times. They even got her a lovely birthday present. What did I get for my birthday? Nothing. Even though I was in the hospital. Not even a visit, even though I asked for one.

I felt so completely rejected. I couldn't possibly believe that he wouldn't have told me what was going on. In this time he still sent me the occasional naughty text. Still met me out, still held my hand and kissed me. All the while pursuing someone else, finding someone else, being with someone else. All the while telling me how he was so busy with work.

Yes, maybe I'm stupid to be so naive as to believe someone. But it's only because I am so completely trustworthy myself. I couldn't do that to someone, so it never occurs to me that someone could actually do it to me. This event led to much soul destruction. On Monday, he emailed me, completely randomly and after some terse exchanges we got into it. It's so completely over and done with now there is nothing possible to salvage. The only positive thing to come out of this is that I think I managed to convey at least some small measure of the hurt he has caused me and he feels bad about it. Not that it's enough, but it's something.

So if crying in the office most of Monday and today wasn't bad enough, Monday was also my annual review at work. Truth be told, if it hadn't been my review, I would have called in sick and spent the day in bed being miserable and contemplating drugs and alcohol (not that I'd take them, but I'd enjoy contemplating them). So I went for my review in this empty vacant state. Which was okay, but not great. The main message being that there is no place for me to advance within the office. So that's final. It's not that I wasn't contemplating leaving anyway, but this vaguely forces my hand.

This evening I had my first scan appointment as a follow up to my surgery in August. I'm supposed to get them every six months from now on to check on my remaining ovary. I really wasn't thinking much about it all other things considered, but figured it would amuse me, the whole dildo aspect of the experience. But then she started looking around and looking around and looking around and pressing and pressing and pressing. Asking some questions about what I had done and what they'd seen before, she was sorry to tell me that there seems to be a cyst on my remaining ovary. So she got me an emergency blood draw and put in a request for a gynecology appointment within two weeks. I'll probably have to have another scan. I refuse to even let my mind consider what this could mean. I'm just going to have to take it as it comes. I have no energy and no reserves left to deal with anything whatsoever.

On the plus side to all of this horribleness, it's not like I keep it to myself. I've told people who know me what's going on generally (and it's hard to pass off the crying at work thing) and everyone has been perfectly lovely with offers of an ear or an arm. I've had so many people offer to talk to me and look after me, that I actually have had to turn people down for simply not wanting to talk about things anymore. Still, I really do appreciate it. Mr.Aloof may not appreciate me, but other people do. That's got to be worth something.

Anyhow, updates as warranted. But that's the news for now.

17 May 2008

Grey Weekend

Looking outside the window, the weather is not particularly friendly. Last weekend, the weather was stunning. I got a sunburn and can still plainly see the strap marks on my shoulders. This weekend I want to mostly sit at home and do nothing. But I do need to finish up an article today. If I do one thing, that has to be it.

Yesterday was therapy day. Third proper session after the initial assessment. I think my goal for therapy is to get to the point where I don't spend the entire 50 minute hour crying. On the positive side, if I have that much emotion stuck inside of me, maybe it's good to do something to finally get it out. I just hope the process is helpful. I feel somewhat guilty and indulgent for going to therapy. Like what, I can't just take care of myself? Or even- what, your life is so fucking bad? And the thing is, my life isn't bad at all. A lot of things about my life are wonderful and pretty cool and make me very happy. But there are specific key things that make me miserable. Or rather, they don't make me miserable most of the time. I think I've pushed them so far and so deep inside that I can go along with most of my life ignoring them. But there are certain things that bring them out, and then I'm swamped with melancholy and don't know what to do.

So therapy is positive so far, aside from the incessant crying. And hopefully I can find better ways to process some things and move on in those few areas of my life that I feel are holding me back.

In other news, I have my annual review on Monday. Past years have seen me be quite fraught about this process. This year I just don't think I care that much. Work is fine really, if perhaps a bit boring. I like a lot of the things I've done, and not others. When I get my dual citizenship thing sorted later in the year, I really do think it will be time for me to make a change. But I'll need to think for a while about what that change may be. Once I have a passport, there are many more opportunities.

And of course, there is Japan- which is so tantalizing I try not to think about it too much.

Tomorrow I'm meeting up with an old flatmate of mine. She's a little bit crazy, but much nicer now that I don't have to live with her. I don't see her very often, and we generally have a pleasant time when we meet up, so that should be fun. Today is all about laundry, cooking, knitting, and article writing. My life is so exciting! Ha.

13 May 2008

A Backslide of Frustration

Weeks seem to be passing now and there is very little to no contact with Mr.Aloof. Unfortunately, during hormone hell week, there was a bit of contact going on, which was a large part of the reason for the crying at work thing. I bring this up because there was a reason for the contact and it had to do with some photos.

Without getting into the whole story, there were, over a few separate occasions, some photographs taken, not entirely with my consent, that I have never seen. Of course I have asked for the photographs on numerous occasions. This was frequently met with an offer to come up to my place with a computer or hard drive and do some general file swapping. Which I was always in support of, but of course, which never happened.

But this meant that these particular photographs remained a mystery to me, but I was aware enough at the time to know what they were of, and how much I would never want them shown around.

I feel it's a three way blame game really, where everyone has some degree of accountability. And I think had it been handled differently- had the photos been shared readily and right away, it wouldn't have become the horrible thing that it did. But again, this is history. What's done is done.

And in my hormone fueled melancholy I brought up the photos again as sort of a 'last vestige of unfinished business' that I expected to be taken care of. And on top of that I emailed her as well because I didn't think I could count on him to follow through.

So now, a couple of weeks later, it turns out it is she who is being responsible and understanding and taking the time to give me back what is rightfully mine. And our email conversation has been pleasant and considerate and she has no fucking idea what is going on and I haven't told her. And the photos have started arriving in my mailbox. It turns out there are more than I thought, and also they aren't the smallest so only a few per email. Probably another day left of sending before it's finished.

And for the most part I have shoved all the emails into a folder and haven't really looked at the images. But I did glance at them and was struck by the most hideous of sadness. Why the fuck did that all go to waste? And how brilliant it was! How could anyone squander such a thing? And I'm right back to being angry and hurt and upset and thinking 'Why? Why? Why? Why?' in my head. Which will pass of course. But it's annoying. Because I've been good really, and I've been feeling better. Sad still, but better.

The thing is, these photos were a last tie and connection point. And now that I have them (almost). There will be truly nothing left as a hold or a connection. Which is also maybe I was holding onto it as well. At any rate, it's in process and it will be finished. And I think about it and I am just incredibly sad. Not unwavering- just sad. And probably angry. I can tell I'm getting angry. At the lies. At the deception. At the waste. It's the waste that kills me. It'll pass.

09 May 2008

Mobile Love

So I've been looking in the window of 2 Columbia Road frequently as I often am on a bus that goes past it. And a while ago I saw this pretty interesting chair in the window and a 'sale' sign. I thought I liked the chair, and tried to spot the price. I thought I saw a tag that read 900 pounds. Now, for a used designer chair this seemed reasonable. And I kept getting on buses that kept going past the shop and I kept looking at this chair.

Eventually at some point I was actually out on the street walking past the shop, so I got a better look at the chair and when I saw the detail of how the chair is put together, I swooned and immediately fell in love. But I think I was in a hurry, or perhaps the shop was closed. Either way, this was all in passing and I went about my business while thoughts of this chair wormed it's way into a shadowed corner of my heart.

Now there is lots of furniture that I admire, but I have never fallen so completely for a chair. And footstool. Did I mention the footstool? At any rate, I have seen many designer chairs and of course being of the architect persuasion, have friends with all sorts of designer chairs. I've even been to Vitra for crying out loud. But never has a chair taken ahold of my imagination so completely.

So when I was out the other day with T, and we happened to be in the area, and I was feeling slightly extravagant, i suggested we go to the shop to check out the chair in person. And in the back of my mind I thought maybe, just maybe, I could spend that much money on a chair that I loved.

So imagine my surprise, to find that the chair and ottoman in question was not nine hundred pounds. More like, twenty-five hundred pounds. Which is a wee out of my price range. Worse yet, I've now looked up this chair on the internet only to find that the price, although a bit high, is closer to the going rate than what I thought I could get it for. And apparently you can buy it new as well, for about twice that cost again. So for the moment, I am going to covet this chair from afar. But knowing just how it has lodged itself into my heart, I feel somewhat certain that one day, perhaps far in the future, this chair will be mine. Oh yes.

May I present the "Ari Chair" by Arne Norell. *sigh*

07 May 2008

Wasting Week

This week is completely mad. For starters, it's only a four day week. Which in and of itself, would be great. On top of that, the weather has been stunning. Not just good- stunning. Then yesterday and today, the network at work has completely crashed out leaving people with nothing better to do than socialize and catch a bit of sunshine. Speaking of which, I have sat out in the sun for both lunch yesterday and today with the hopes of getting rid of some of my pasty complexion. I think this is working on my face and arms, but my legs are another story entirely. Time to bust out the everyday lotion with tanning agents I think.

So yes, two days left in the week and overall it's okay. I have a lot on my mind and am looking forward to therapy on Friday to offload some of it, since it's been brewing since last Friday. I really hope that something useful comes out of this process. I think though that I'm slightly worried that it's going to screw with my attraction to a more kinky lifestyle. I hope that's not the case, but it has crossed my mind. In part due to some recent postings on IC- but I wonder if it's possible to be kinky and not at all fucked up.

Okay, I take that back slightly- I do wholeheartedly believe it's possible. I just think it's incredibly rare. And the chances of finding 'a good one' are slim to none. But on the other hand, I can't see having a vanilla only partner forever. I don't know. Things to think about really.

I'm going to head off to bed early tonight seeing as how I only got about four hours of sleep last night. I know I've lived in this flat coming on four years now, but I really need to get some curtains for my bedroom. Not because I don't like waking up to sunlight, but I don't like waking up to sunlight directly on my bed. It's way too fucking hot. I must get on this immediately or I'm going to be regularly miserable very soon.

04 May 2008

How Nice

It is fantastic to know that it's Sunday and I still have another day off work. A three day weekend is just what the doctor ordered. Yesterday was good. Went out with T and S into the city to find a dress for S which was successful. But we also had some yummy hot chocolate and cakes from CCK and managed to swing by the Japan Centre which was useful since both me and T needed some items. Then all of us went to a good to know bar that is centrally located. So good to know, that I'm reluctant to share it here, suffice to say, we had some extremely delicious drinks there to top off the day, and I now feel the need to research Frangelico and everything you can mix with it.

Today I need to head down to find my framer to get some prints that I bought framed. I was devastated to have sort of messed up one of the prints, but in part due to the packaging. The four prints came in a little plastic sleeve (I didn't get one of the bonus prints or drawings, boo hoo). At any rate, when I went to put them back in the sleeve, the sticky part of the plastic touched the front of one of the prints and lifted the ink straight off it! I thought I was going to cry. I have tried to fix it with some black ink, but of course the ink isn't the same as the printing colors and also it lifted a bit of the skin tone which I have no replacement for. It's not the end of the world because it was only one of the prints and it's not awful, but it isn't great either and I was so looking forward to these prints and so excited about them only to fuck one up as soon as I got it. Still, I'm going to frame them and it probably won't be particularly noticeable to anyone but me and whomever I point it out to.

Then later today I'm having dinner with D and V which should be really nice. V has been recovering from an illness/surgery for a long time and I haven't seen her for some time, though I've seen D here and there. They are probably some of the nicest and best suited for one another people I know and I think I enjoy spending time with them not only because they are easy to talk to and interesting and genuinely kind people, but also because they give me some degree of hope that a relationship exists that I can admire.

I saw my therapist for our first proper session on Friday and it occurred to me that I'm fairly judgmental about many of the relationships that my friends are in. For the most part meaning that they have relationships I probably don't respect and certainly wouldn't want for myself. This led me to fear that I had no basis for a relationship that I thought was a good relationship but then I was able to pull out a few that I think are probably good and healthy and admirable. I think one of my problems is I see that in many relationships one person has given up lots of things for the other person- or just to be in a relationship. Given up things they always held dear to their personalities, now discarded. And I recognize that I don't have much comfort with this tactic. Which is funny in a way, because I recognize in my own quasi relationships how I have been willing to adjust my desires or activities or expectations to better suit the person I was pursuing, but then why do I find it so abhorrent in others? Maybe it has to do with what things one is willing to sacrifice. I don't know. I'm sure I'll be talking about this with the therapist more in the future.

At any rate, things are a little bit more calm here. I'm still sad about the loss of Mr.Aloof but I'm dealing with it. And as expected, every day of distance it gets just that little bit easier. I'm sure I'll continue to obsess about it for some time- look them both up on the computer and such. Because I've done that with people in the past. But even that fades with time until eventually it really doesn't matter anymore at all.

So that's what's going on around here. Off to the market!

02 May 2008

She's Crafty

This is actually my 600th post. Not that I really care. It's just that blogger tells me so when I go to make a new one. Hormones are subsiding and I'm feeling much calmer and centered. Sort of. There's still many things buzzing through my mind, but it's calmed down to a more reasonable level.

Finally though I've gotten all the photos of the menagerie together. I'm sad to say that the ones I took of the elephants bound for Boston didn't come out very well. So the grand total was:
- 1 six month old, one blue elephant
- 1 newborn, one lilac elephant

- 1 2 year old, one blue elephant
- 1 baby on the way, one red and green dumbo octopus

These particular patterns came from etsy from Hansigurumi and they were great fun and now I want more. So come on my spawning friends... keep it up!

Without further ado, here are the cuties.
I guess it's not entirely obvious but I should say that these are all relatively small by way of stuffed animals. The elephants are slightly bigger than palm sized and the octopus isn't any bigger than my hand. Perfect for babies!

(I keep saying this of course because what am I going to do with these things if I make them for myself?? Anyway, I have a second sock to finish in the craft department currently.)

Roll on bank holiday weekend. I can seriously use this three day weekend just to chill the fuck out.