Get Shit Done

I am actively doing precisely that. Amazing, I know.
Nisse - of course - is no help whatsoever. But at least he let's me get on with it.

Now, that is a bit unfair. It's not his job to help with that kind of thing. So, I guess I am saying sorry.
See, new year, new me.
It's not gonna last - let us not kid ourselves here. So I am making the most of it and hoping for the best.

New Year = Old Year (at least for me)

Haven't seen Nisse around. He's disappeared.
Am not surprised. Most men in my life do.

Looking for a new job.
Been in my current one for three years now and it is high time for a change.
Enough with the same old same old.
Enough with the boredom.
Enough with my brain going to pot.
Enough already!

A Truth Universally Acknowledged

A single woman 

Alone on

New Year's Eve

Must be in need of a drink
Or five.

The John . . . Going On A Bit...

The Place: a bar
Name: The Void
Actual Fact: No one cares since it's the Void


I am now officially pledging the Fifth. In my case it should be the Sixth. I.e. THAT part in the universal law of Wine Drinkers Solitary And Anonymous that refers to the state of inebriation (i.e. units of alcohol) of the individual in question and in connection to that the inability to be held accountable for what was said and/or written in said state of inebriation.
SUCH a good thing that we are talking VOID here.

Alcohol makes you both naive and wise. (Really what it does is simply lower your inhibitions.) (Oh good, pointing out the obvious here.)
I believe this is why people tend to say that children and drunks speak the truth. (As above.)
As to speaking the truth - I honestly cannot say that I am or, IF I was, which?
Literary studies taught me, there is never only ONE truth. A complete and utter philistine would now utter something like: Makes you wonder just how much Shakespeare and the likes were drinking. Well, our beloved Mr. Pope, I am sure, was always anything but. A drunkard that is.

I am partial to the occasional drink. Especially on a New Year's Eve when there is nothing better to do and no one around. (May be turning into Bridget Jones. Must check for further signs.)
There is some kind of list of classic and highly appropriate things to do on this night in particular. Fancy dinners, friends galore, lavish parties, countdowns and toasts, and not forgetting auld acquaintance(s) and days of auld lang syne.
And you know what, this lady is in no mood to tick any of the boxes.
I love me some red wine, some sherry, too.
I shall dance and skip and gyrate and whirl like a dervish.
I may remember this and forget the other.
I may cry and laugh, joke and swear.
I shall be talking to myself a little. Aloud. Like me, myself and I were three different people.
In my mind I will be dancing with John Mayer in my kitchen. Slow dancing to some old Gershwin number.
I'd even pretend to have on a fabulous gown and my hair'd be sleek and simply wonderful.

In the end, all it ever really is is make believe.
The new year is the old year is the old is the old is the same old same old.
It's crushing. It is devastating. Nothing ever really changes. No one ever really changes. That is what is called the universal experience of being human. That is why, Mr. Mayer can wax poetic about the mundane and the easily forgotten and overlooked.
We carry on.
Regardless.
Whether we have learned anything or not.
It simply does not matter. Because the world does not stop turning just because we break a leg, a heart, a crown.
The world does not give a shit.
I wonder whether that is something to take into 2014.
To take into consideration at least.
At last!
Because, for sure, this lady has not in the past.

It is that kind of knowledge that eludes you for a long time and screws with you continually.

So make sure you got that down!

For posterity and all...

The John (An Entry Far Too F***ing Long-Winded For It's Own Good)

I am not talking about toilets
I am talking about Mayer's John.
Say about him what you will I love his music. Straight from Room For Squares it's been a lot of jumping around in dark rooms on Friday nights, a lot of inebriated nodding and swaying, a lot of crying and the occasional shout of SING IT, MR MAYER! Because I know he knows.
Yup - that is what OUR relationship is all about. Honesty. Understanding.

Sometimes my cynical self goes something like this:
Good thing, JM is around - he goes on Soul Searchers and comes back with bags of knowledge so you don't have to. Of course, I chide this part of myself and retort, that really what JM is doing - and kindly so - is to provide a soundtrack to life, not so much his, exclusively, but  - since we are all experiencing basically the same thing - a large portion of "us".

Coming to think of it - I am not a musician, I am a language person, so the notes and riffs and the whole composition which I am sure are fascinating, are way beyond me.
But still I believe JM is a poet, too. In the literal sense of the word.
Is that too much?
Not sure.
Am I singing praises where they are not deserved?
No clue.
What I know is that his words - and I know, too I am mixing metaphors here - think of it as COLLAGE - are like snapshots.
And WHAT do you mean by that, Ms.? Pray, tell!
Well. He highlights a mood, a feeling/emotion - a quick observation, a hint of something, nothing lasting, just a thought. And that is what photographers do, right?
Both capture something. Something intimate. It's like looking at the world through their eyes. Cliché, I know. Can't think of a decent metaphor. Am not Alexander Pope after all. So there.

 - FIFTH BEAKER - I would like to mention this, Void, and though I know you are as unforgiving and uncaring as ever and in ANY way possible, I am STILL recording it!
... for posterity... or whatever. That is a contradiction in terms I know... but hey it is New Year's Eve and I am on my fifth beaker.

I have lost my train of thought completely - not that it was ever there... mark that down to beakers and heavy drinking. So sorry.

I was - in fact - advised to take up drinking to get myself in the proper creative mood. If writing would not come - and I think it was meant as if Creativity is reluctant  - then "seduce her by all means possible".
I believe that was to say: Take charge. Get drunk if need be and coax her out.
Her?
Her?!
Anyway - a healthy drinking habit is said to have been beneficial to many a literary endeavour. Not so much the liver, mind you.
But! This is a story for some other time.
It's a good one.
It's Christmassy and all in the "Spirit of the Holiday" and "Good-will-toward -men (and women, clearly)-malarkey.

Back to Mr. John Mayer. Who is as flawed as the next person. So?
I think what really matters and is the only thing that should matter - since he is a songwriter and musician first and foremost - that he has an ear as well as an eye - and perhaps, most of all, he has a heart.
'coz it takes a heart to be bothered in the first place.
By the every-day. By the minutiae of a so-called ordinary life. By the insecurities of growing-up. By Love. By breaking-up. By Not-knowing-what-the-hell-to-do-with-the-rest-of-your-life. The list goes on.
JM is a archivist. A diarist. A snap-shot-taker, for lack of a better word.

For some reason I am a little worried that he might be offended, arguing that it takes so much more than just clicking the button in the right moment. His recording is both a challenge of words and of notes and keys. And while writing that I am not even sure what that means.
I think it tries to touch upon the fact that both lyrics as well as music are involved in this particular artistic process.
Be that as it may, in cometh the laywoman:  - Both are a kind of a language, right?

Are You Surprised? I Know I'm Not

Ah, more cynical ramblings? More insights that come way too late?
Void - I am on my, I believe, fourth BEAKER of red wine today.
So I WILL ramble some more.
I WILL ...

...perhaps I will not necessarily be insightful. Other people, cleverer people have got there first, have done it so much better - and apparently that is what New Year's Eve is all about, right?
So, bring on the lists and the reminiscing and the whishes for 2014.
But not here. No siree!
Do feel free to consult your favourite browser for the awesomeness, the shitty-ness, the I-cannot-believe-this-is-happening (-to-me----again)-ness of the dying year. Take the time to be reminded of all that has happened. I am sure there were some big things.
Still, I am equally sure that everyone's very own, very special moments should be given full attention and consideration. So, take a minute and think back on what has happened to YOU and only YOU. I am not sure but if everyone took this minute to simply concentrate on themselves WITHOUT the impulse of taking a selfie or changing their status on fb. DO NOT SHARE. Just take stock and keep it secret and smile a little, or be a little sad, consider the changes and what they have done to you as a being.
Now, would that not be something...

I myself have done some impromtu, spirit of the moment clear-out-thing. I have packed away the first Christmas ornaments, would you believe it. Me - for whom the Season To Be Jolly could not start soon enough...
Well, I am now in the Season of Clearance and Being-Organised.
It is usually a short one, do not worry.

Clearing out. It's a lovely little thing to do. It's especially great on New Year's Eve. You can pretend you are going to be so much more ...whatever "next year" BECAUSE you have made a start in the old year already. It is also a good way of distracting yourself that you are on your own on this night of .... what.... Change?
Come one, who believes that? Naturally we are all hopeful - after all, one bloody year over and done with AND added bonus: we have survived.
We have survived the good, the bad, the ugly. Feel free to fill in the blanks... I know I will - and I will not even have to use my imagination.

Please Continue

Ah, the new year.
Still so fresh and unspoiled.
Let's see how long that lasts.
I know, ever the optimist...


Is it not strange how we expect the worst... of events, of others, of ourselves?

Only one week into the new year and I have come to the conclusion that I am EVERY bit as bad and slovenly and gluttonous as last year. So sorry to all those list-writers and thank-you sayers, to the breathers and relaxers, the yogis and the gurus, the hopers and whishers, the aware and the enlightened. I suppose the LIST goes on . . .

Resolutions? Bite me!

I suppose one could now say: The year is but young. You simply slipped a little.
Nu-uh. I never thought I'd say this ever but here goes: What I have started I shall finish.
I rarely stick to anything but I do have a habit of giving up. I believe I can stick to that.

Good evening all.

The Big Bang Theory

Can I just say this - to get it out of the way:

Flat hunting sucks. 


I have come to this eloquent and rather smart conclusion just hours after having started this quest.
Yes, I'm a quick study.

Furthermore, I am unsure what to make of years that start with a "BANG" (for more on that read yesterday's entry).
I wonder if it is healthy for one to "start with a bang" - does that not muddle you up for the months to come. One may never recover. And then what has one gained?! A burst eardrum and temporary insanity.
I should like to start leasurely. That is to say - I would have liked that very much.

BUT! Since yesterday morning THAT is all out of the window. And I feel like bloody Gretchen in Faust, with my "peace ... gone/My heart ... sore" - though not QUITE for the same reason to be sure. But still. I feel worried and harrassed. And nervous.

The Bang - and size does not matter - is not my favourite thing, I can tell you straight off the bat.
As I have tried to point out before in my postings I like to meander through life and let things happen. Ok, so that is a polite way of saying I am a passive scaredy-cat.
The Bang does not help with that. It tends to get me more edgy and not necessarily more effective.
The Bang tends to do to me what snakes do to little birds and rabbits before they devour them. It incapacitates me. I am still sort of reeling from the experience and from trying not to panic and keeping calm and staying positive and optimistic - ALL AT THE SAME BLOODY TIM E.

Over-reacting, who me?!

Alright, no points for guessing correctly that I am freaking out a little, that I am essentially in panic-mode. That I would like to run away from this and pretend that nothing has happened and that all goes on as before. "As you were, soldier!"

I know, so mature, right?!

I feel a bit like I have to have a solution by the end of the week.
I also feel that I am very slowly catching up to myself and while doing so realising that all will not be lost if I do not have a solution by the end of the week.
And I am beginning to breathe again more slowly. Heartrate's going down, too.

So, suppose I don't find a new place on the first day I have started looking - should that frustrate me? Ok, don't answer that.
What I am really trying to say is (to myself) - stop being so insanely impatient. If you can master that the panic will stop all on its own. What did I say yesterday about the deep dark places in our heart of hearts? - That is where we always know the answers to all our questions, even the silly ones.
Unfortunately, we chose to ignore this inate wisdom far too frequently. In my case that is the reason why I am panicky, the reason why I feel I need to be impatient.

I am a nervous person by nature. I scare easily and I remember the days of my flatshare-times when I would frequently jump up and nearly go into cardiac arrest because my flatmate (for crying out loud) walked into the room unexpectedly. She would then simply say: Remember me? I live here, too.
I also do not necessarily like surprises. (Get this though, I get easily bored.)
Thus, I believe I cannot help but getting a little worked up about stuff most of the time. Memo to myself: Start with those breathing exercises already!

So that has me thinking - is this "BANG" perhaps a blessing in disguise?

A colleague said something interesting today: perhaps it is now time to start looking for something new because now is also the time that something "just right for me" is out there.

Only one way to find out, right?

That Thing Called Hope

I remember it very cleary. I know for sure that they said, hope never dies.
I hope I'm not wrong. (Get it?)

What if I simply misheard that. What if we all did...?!

I thought it would be fun to ponder for a minute - on the last day of the year, naturally - what if nothing really changed or changes AT ALL. (I am now starting to think in the direction of 'bad idea' and 'Fun... not so much!')

What if what I thought was change was just a minor glitch, a minor de-tour in my hum-drum life to trick me into thinking I have what they call glitz and glamour in my life. Alright, not so much that but rather direction and purpose?

Remember:   http://somethingstartsnow.blogspot.com/2011/11/coming-through.html

How come then that I feel rather deflated and - I know I should not say it - frustrated.
How come that what was good a mere 3 and a half weeks ago now seems jaded pleasures?

Sorry, I am out of answers, out of silly things to write, out of neuroticisms and dizzy tales.
And I certainly do not want to spread gloom.

So, here's to hoping and wishing!

Happy New Year to all and sundry

The Super Cooper List

How hard can it be, right? Make a list once a day - you don't even have to write it down. You just do it in your head. Before you get ready for the day, or at night, before you go to bed - you get to chose.

So why in hell have I NOT managed to do this?!

It is odd to see myself come up with all sorts of excuses just because I do not want to list the things I am grateful for. As if that makes them more important, more real. As if I could accidentally jinx something. It's absurd, I know.
But I have been thinking about it and here's what I came up with.
Actually listing things, possibly even writing them down if you are so inclined, makes them indeed more real. Even the process of simply thinking about them, seems to pull them out of that big bag of unconscious every-day patterns of behaviour, of thoughts and highlights them. It almost seems like you are - in that precise moment of writing them down, of naming them out loud - consciously taking responsibility. You become accountable. That is even more true for listing things that you want. And I am not talking fame and fast cars and riches beyond whatever...
The things you may want to be, to become, to achieve. They grow the minute you put them onto a piece of paper, or simply out into the universe, but not just so on a whim but consciously. Like you actually mean it.
And THAT is what freaks me out. The meaning-it part.
Why?

Because we live in a world of make-believe and lies and insincerity and sugar-coating and sweet-nothings and what have you. So you don't necessarily get a lot of practice in actually meaning something. At least that is how I feel sometimes. It starts with "Have a nice day now" and ends with "Phantastic offer..." and there is A LOT that goes in the middle of those two.
I am not the kind of person that goes around telling fibs all the time. Not at all and that is not really the point I am making. I am just saying that sincerity is rare these days and one is often taken by surprise when it suddenly shows up.

So what, I am a bit of a coward and an indecisive woman. I get taken aback by sincerety because all the bullshit gets to me sometimes and I forget that there are nice people out there. (May I remind you of my landlord who definitely does not belong in the aforementioned nice-people category, so excuse me for being jaded. 'course he is not the only one, but who am I telling this.. we have all been there.)

How did I get here? Oh yes, the list. Well, I am none the wiser. I still have not really made one yet, let alone the list of all my intentions.

Hm, perhaps that would be something to do on New Year's Eve.