Golly...

... it has been quite some time.

I will not go on and on about it. I shall be sweetness and light.
For which there are plenty of reasons.

Actually, no. No!
I am not going to spend one whole entry fibbing about how bloody happy I am ALL the BLOODY TIME.
Because I am not. Alright? Satisfied?

Of course I am happier, A LOT happier. Actually I am REALLY happy.
But I am also simply shattered, knackered, exhausted, debilitated, frazzled even.

My Doc says it was ok to be tired in times of transition. I love that. I also love that Doc seems to appreciate the nature of my reality right now: happiness aside, I am still only human and have not suddenly mutated into Zeus' illegitimate daughter with super magic goddess powers.
Wait - weren't all his children misbegotten - out of wedlock an' all?
Alright so I'd be one in a long line of bastard children whose mothers were kidnapped, tricked, rained upon (I still find that one kind of disturbing and a little disgusting, too), played for a fool by this dirty old man. And he was married to his sister, for crying out loud... but I'd also be one kick-ass immortal who would not be tired out by a few double-shifts and pondering too hard on - dare I say it - the past. I'd just shrug and get on with it. Heck, I'd re-write the past and eradicate all villains in my story. THAT's what I would do.

HOWEVER, it has turned out I have no magic super powers. (Shocking, right?!)
My powers are sub-par at present.
I am not as irritable as a bear just out of hibernation but I am sure as energetic.

So Doc says to take it easy. Be patient with thyself. Get some rest.
Well if I could I would not need her to tell me that. But such ist life.

What else is new?
I have settled more or less in my new flat. Things are still all over the place. But I cannot be bothered due to aforementioned problem of too little sleep.

I have still not overcome delayed rage. Still harbour sinister thoughts against a person of the past.
Wonder whether these will ever turn into deeds...

Have ordered rifle catalogues online.

Only joking.

Apart from the superficial and, I suppose, rather average tiny things of the every-day variety, I have noticed something which does not strike me as unsettling or even mildly surprising, which says to me that I should not worry. If anyone (anyone?) else wishes to do so, feel free and be more than welcome.

It is something I have been feeling all my life, more or less - and I am not unique in feeling thus. I am not making myself out to be. I am just stating a fact here.
Namely that a person can feel - while the turmoils of a certain part in their lives have been resolved and put to rest, while new beginnings have been made and things have turned out for the better - a kind of happiness, or relief but also finds that it is temporary, fleeting.To many, I have found, it seems to be that way. To equally as many this is a sign that something's wrong. Because: if they are not happy all the time, something MUST be wrong with them.

Who in their right mind is happy all the time, I ask.
Who honestly aspires to that?!
Naturally, if quizzed, a lot of us state: happiness. Whatever that may entail for the individual.
But that is the question right there isn't it. What's it mean to be happy, to have happiness in life? Is it fame, is it health, is it the car/the house/the yacht/the trophy wife, is it having enough money to live comfortably, is it love?
This despite the fact that we are told by those apparently in the know that failure, hardship, even sickness is the "stuff" that growth is made of and that in times of crises we must turn to ourselves to find answers, for all the riches and fame in the world will not solve your issues. (Though it helps I have been told.)

My happiness is a fickle thing. It never stays long and often leaves a sense of melancholy behind and then a kind of stressed-out feeling. I do believe this stems from my habit of making the proverbial second step before the first. (Oh, time was when I would attempt to take the 5th or even the 10th before I had even started to take steps at all.) I sort of live in the future in the sense that I worry about what may or may not happen. My life is a chores-list and after one chore is crossed off I move on to the next. I do not feel satisfaction about the things (little as they may seem to others) I have achieved, accomplished. I do not feel pride. I rarely feel joy about them. It's just something I've done. Can we move on now?
I do not celebrate the bigger events in life, so do not even talk to me about the small ones.
Should this really be down to my inability to stay "in the moment" as it were? Yup, 'cause what I do instead is leave the present in order to speculate frantically about my future. And that I really (really!) cannot know or control.

My little friend called D.R. (the one that frequently leads me down the path of anger towards a certain person of my past) is also in on it. He likes to shackle me to said past. And I let him. I invite questions of WHY oh why things happened and I create ever different scenarios of what I should have done. Only problem is, of course, I cannot change what has gone before. I may know it but again I cannot control it.

It's an old hat, I know... all this being able to live right here in the present moment and how difficult it can be for one that is so easily distracted, that is so misguided and insecure.
However, the older I get, the more I get it - which is not to say that I am any good at practising it.

My mind wanders on very sturdy legs every day all day. It has not learned to be still. It offers opinions, it spouts them like a never-ending well, bubbling, teaming with incessant "talk" of likes and dislikes. I am thus only the passenger. I get carried away, in the truest sense. Not least from myself.

So, I figure, happiness would be detachment, being still within oneself, shutting the hell up.

Not sure how to break this to my overly chatty mind, though. "Right, Past and Future are off bounds, you hear me?" Yeah, that's really gonna work so well! And it doesn't stop there, does it now. Any kind of judgement would be on the list of no-go's. What is to become of my little rants?! I have to ask myself here,  Am I really ready to part with my tantrums and my bouts of self-righteous anger, my regular moments of complacency? I do cherish feeling superior. (Sue me! Like all of us ever only criticise others in order to help them. Bollocks!)

You see, it is a big decision. And I shall take my time making it.
And I shall take my chances with feeling a little happy now and then and dog-tired in-between.
Clearly, it is not bad enough yet for me to do anything about it all.
I simply have a high pain threshold and my "too much effort" radar is super-sensitive at present.
Does that make me a bad person? No.
It simply shows once more how strong one's resistance to new things truly can be.

Ah, times of transition, eh...

Oh, How The Mighty Have Fallen

Re-posting entries now, are we?!

Tsk, tsk!!!

Because I Can

... and because I like it so much.

http://somethingstartsnow.blogspot.de/2012/01/blessed-are-merciful.html

Nothing Wrong With That

Today I have indulged in some retail therapy. I know I have been banging on about happiness of late. Well not so much here - because I was simply to exhausted and lazy (remember: TWO jobs) - but to colleagues and friends and pretty much anyone who listened.

However, something was missing in my life... yup - clothes.
Don't get me wrong I have not NOTHING to wear. I have a few things, but my warderobe has become so limited that I and it was in dire need.

I say this with all honesty: some had just given up and came apart at the seams. This they did on account of my at present rather shapely derrière. I have the matching thighs to go with it, too. It was sort of a 2 for 1 deal. And clothes can only take (read: strech) so much, I have been told.
Some of my trousers actually got eaten by the bike. Yes, THE bike.
I managed to get various trouser legs mangled in my bicycle chain.
That was fun as I was nearly thrown off while the fabric got churned and mangled and kept pulling me nearer and nearer to the handle bars and off the saddle.
What's that? OF COURSE I was wearing trouser clips! It just so happens that they're no bloody use when you have to bike it into work and the only thing you have left to wear are some ridiculously wide Marlene-Dietrich-type trousers. Really what I should have done was roll the damn legs up to my hip joint. But being the considerate ME that I am I chose not to and thus spared the drivers of cars and lorries and busses etc. a rather unsightly wake-up call early-ish in the morning.

So basically half my items do not fit, a quarter is unmendable and another quarter is ripped to pieces by either my heroic efforts to at least pretend to get some exercise or the fact that they rip on their own account. Just like that. It's like your clothes are giving you the finger.

But fear not - I have re-stocked the closet. All in moderation of course. I am all about moderation these days... (snort). Honestly though, I could not afford much anyway. Unlucky for me I still managed to go over budget.
But as this will have been the last shopping trip for quite some time, I believe I can get away with it this time.

Now I am even happier than before, would you believe, though a little poorer, too.
Yet - it was all very much necessary. I could not keep on wearing winter garments, Summer decided to wreak full havoc as of RIGHT NOW. Once more we kind of skipped Spring this year and opted for muggy conditions. Really no good to me. And especially tiresome without the right attire.

Anyway, rambling again - swiftly moving on - just wanted to say that I am not sure what it is about new clothes that make you feel nice - but they do and I like it.

Leaves the topic of how to reduce that above mentioned backside and the matching upper legs. And yes I am still clinging on to that last bit of hope that one day I will get up the energy (from whence I cannot say as yet) and go for a jog four times a week or something or do sit-ups and other such nonsense on a regular basis.
Because yes, personally I would love to return to a time when I and my joints and back were the same age. These days we sort of move at opposite ends of the spectrum. Not a good look.

So... what is one to do?

Thoughts?

Dear Void,

I was not sure you'd miss me and I am still cautious - you may be lying. Lying by omission, sort of.
You have been omitting from day one so I am in fact super-cautious.
Be that as it may - here's a little update, just so YOU know what I have been up to while I am - once again - left in the dark.

No. It's not a complaint.
It's alright. Really.

Thursday, 12th April I lowered the blinds in my old flat for the last time, I had a last cigarette. I did a lot of things for the last time that evening. It's a long list, believe me when I tell you. The next morning, Friday 13th, for the last time I saw the bakery switch on the shop lights, I heard early morning's blackbirds and blue tits once more, had my last cup of coffee. It was a morning of goodbyes. Not the soppy kind but the ones where it's ok to move on and to be happy.
And that Friday I also did a lot of things for the first time. A very happy-making experience, indeed.

A little symphony of lasts and firsts.

Fortunately, the newness has not rubbed off yet.
I still cannot quite believe it when every morning I wake up to birdsong instead of the bloody tram rattling by my flat.
I am still in a sort of box-limbo and will remain so for quite some time.
When I move from room to room I have to navigate a little. Things are sometimes a little hard to find.
Yup, I do a lot of searching and digging around these days. Not so much of the soul-search variety, I admit.

'Course I am still un-packed! What self-respecting single hipster on the move would be entirely organised and set up in their new abode?!

For now this will have to suffice. I am a busy woman. This is sooo a one-off!!! It's also a bit against the rules, I have to admit. So I'll go.

A What Is Gonna Come?!

It's certainly not CHANGE. Not here, not now and apparently not any time soon.

I have been wondering lately: does it happen over time? Or does it come over night?
Does it start out slow and small or is it like "now you see it, now you don't" - just the other way round, clearly.

You'd think there are plenty of examples either way, and I am sure there are. But consider this: there is a school of thought (well not really a SCHOOL but hey!) that argues that the only constant in our lives is change and that change is all about the little things that MAKE change happen.

So the big changes in one's life, in history, in science, in thought, anywhere really do not come with one loud bang and overnight. They do take their time, they sometimes need to be coaxed, prodded, subtly pushed. They grow, like flowers, like weeds and they will not be rushed. It takes preparation and conditions that are "just right", that are conducive to growth in any possible way, to development, to evolution.

Fine, so what of it?! Big deal, change ain't happening super fast - somehow we knew that, right. Any, ANY, diet could have taught you that by now.
And change does not necessarily come from sitting on one's backside all day, either. Yup, figures.

It really is about the little things. (Again with the little things!)
By that I mean the constant willingness of wanting to achieve change and the refusal to just snap back into old habits, comfy patterns, lame excuses of "it's always been done this way".
That is how a person evolves. That is how a situation can be altered.

Esssentially that means that when I go to sleep with the idea or rather the hope that tomorrow I will be able to do at least ONE thing differently, better, more thorough, and I wake in the morning and as the day progesses I change certain habits, then you could say, change happens over night. It's little, it's a start but if one is lucky enough to be able to stick to it, to become better at it and more dedicated to it everyday, these minute changes will cumulate and will result in something bigger. Who knows it may entice others to attempt the same. That said, it is not about getting others to change with you or beat them at it or to it.

It just occured to me that this surely has all been said before by much smarter people in much more eloquent ways.
So I'll shut up.

And yes, I do feel a little stuck and like nothing is changing. I admit it. And a little low, too and like a number of things are not working they way I had intended for them to be working. Story of my life.

And what I am going to do now is I'm gonna stick my behind on the couch and not do anything remotely change-like. I am going to sulk and moan and pitty myself a bit.
And then I shall indulge in a glass of water and a salad and some fruit instead of chocolate.

Baby-steps, remember!

Caption? What Caption?

I am half-way there. Have signed the lease agreement, am awaiting counter-signature and that will be that.
To be honest, I have no clue how I am going to manage this all. This being The Move.

Turns out I have no man, no van, just flippin' boxes.
A single gal's dilemma.

Perhaps it is indeed time to take - as Alex Turner put it so wonderfully - the batteries out my mysticism and put them in my thinking cap.

Yup, will do.



Shalalala.





P.S. The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala? Hello!

Really? Just 6?

http://intentblog.com/6-rewarding-ways-to-spring-clean-your-relationships/

There's Always More

You know how people say that one should travel light. 

I believe this to be true for both actual travelling and living. 

Note: before moving, do clear out your belongings. Because it is a known fact that if the burden is too great you will find yourself not actually moving at a noticable speed or worse, not at all. In live and on a journey. I am sure you have experienced one or the other at one stage in your life. 

Ah, but now for the moment of truth. 

For the past few years I have thought myself as someone with few possessions. I have considered myself as living light - at least in comparison to other people I know who own flats, whole houses, cars, holiday homes, stock bonds, pets... you name it. But in the cold light of day and with boxes waiting to be packed I have reached a grim conclusion. That which seemed straightforward and manageable now blatantly spells chaos. It is cumbersome and messy. 

In short I am not a fan.

I remember the days when all my belongings would fit into the back of a Vauxhall. Come to think of it that was when I lived in furnished rooms in flatshares, so I am not sure whether that counts. 

But as the years roll on and by you find yourself buying sofas, a bigger closet, more book shelves etc. 

And that is when you usually realise a) you are getting old (because let's face it who in their right mind buys a sofa when they are twenty-something. I was able to prolong that particular moment until I was thirty-odd years of age and I must say I am proud of that!) and b) that the older you get the more things you accumulate for the sake of comfort apparently. 

So far I have managed to stear clear of the possibly inevitable kitchen purchase, Lady Luck was on my side where washing machines and hoovers were concerned, I have always lived with someone who owned these things and was willing to share. 

But oh, how the mighty have fallen... at some point in the not so distant future I will have to consider these household appliances in earnest and make a decision - however, I will cross that bridge once I get there. Until then I shall carry on with my borrowed and inherited bits and bops. 

If need be I can get by on very little. And the way it looks right now, this theory will soon be tested. 

Haven't you heard, I am facing two months of having to pay rent x two. Plus the actual move, plus plus plus - do I really have to spell it out - it is going to cost me an arm AND a leg. 

On the other hand: less money, less stuff to cram flat with. 

P.S.

I know... This could be my Post-Move Fast.

 

Only set-back: it's going to take longer than 40 days.  

Life In A Box

First boxes are packed.
One set of curtains is being washed.
Had a good old clear-out..
All in all it's going well.

Bit of a sore back, though.

I must say I feel proud of myself and generally pleased with my life right now.
Because it needs to be considered that this is the first proper flat I am moving into all by myself. So far I have had what feels like 50 flat shares. I lived with girls and boys, just boys, just girls.
And now it's going to be just me. YAY ME!

I have weaned myself from "we" and have now reached a mostly healthy "me".

Ever noticed how one area of your life can be a metaphor for another?
My housing situation, my looming move, seem to mirror my personal life, i.e. I am clearing out and starting afresh. I am moving away from the past, from what has been. Sure enough I will be taking parts with me but mostly I will move on. That is the plan.

I have just been for a little walk and I have noticed - not for the first time, mind you - that ever since I've found that cosy little new place I have been saying goodbye to my neighbourhood. I cherish my morning walks to work, trying to memorise the houses, the trees, the shops, the quirks of this part of town. I trace and re-trace the routes, places and spaces that are soaked with memories of days gone by. That have silently witnessed brief moments of happiness, wonder and surprise, that have seen me in despair, without hope, that have felt my heart ache and that caught the tears. There are tiny pieces of me left here and there. Nothing big, nothing world-stopping, nothing extraordinary. Just a few years of my life, a handful of memories, the good, the bad, the ugly... that is how it is. And always.

It is good that I am moving on. It is time.

And it is Spring. I have been told that is when life starts over, full of hope, full of faith.

Moving On

Will be signing lease contract for new flat soon.
"Being over the moon" does not even begin to cover it.

In With The Good

... And The New And The Exciting.
Oh, I have had delightful news this week.
More soon.

Could It Be Magic

Looked at flats.
One of them could be my new haven.
If all goes well...

A kindly friend picked me up to look at them together. All afternoon I had been super nervous.
It was like final exams all over again. Sweaty palms, palpitations, queasy feeling in stomach area, you name it.
But I made it. And as a result may have found a little flat for little moi.
Of course the nerves had totally obliterated my ability to think rationally and clearly. Common sense was conspicuously absent, too. Thus, all I managed was to squeak out questions in between gasps of delight and wonder. Not necessarily the right kind of questions, the ones any sane person would come up with. Like what about the deposit, what about the estate agent's fee? The list goes on, believe me.
Hey, cut me some slack!
I viewed a newly refurbished decent-sized flat with a big kitchen, a PROPER bathroom and CENTRAL heating! I have been living on a building site the past couple of months http://somethingstartsnow.blogspot.com/2011/12/war-zone-and-fa-la-la-la-la-la-freakin.html ? Not to mention: http://somethingstartsnow.blogspot.com/2012/02/winter-of-my-discontent.html !
I COULD NOT HELP MYSELF!
It was a bit like leaving the Cookie Monster unsupervised. In a shop. With cookie jars. Full of delicious, still warm chocolate chip cookies. And the chocolaty bits are sticky and soft and ... alright, you get the idea.

Anyway, all I am saying is:
Fingers crossed!
And even though the Void does not have fingers, forget about opposible thumbs, I would like to think that IT does IT's special magic-y thing to help me out.
All in the name of the greater benefit of the universe, of course.
Haven't you heard - happy me, happy u-niverse.
It's that simple.

No, really - I would love for this to go right. REALLY VERY MUCH (and, yes I know I am using a LOT of capitals today. It's just to show just how important this is to me, in case it had slipped anyone's notice).

And if you can be grateful in advance, then I am herewith.
VERY!
Cooper, watch out!

Out With The Old

Cleaning, yet again. After two weeks of builders trudging in and out of my flat and me spending my weekends cleaning up a little as best as I could, the building work seems done and all is left for me is . . . yup, cleaning.
Am on hands and knees to get paint and mortar off floor. Super fun!

I do not consider this spring cleaning.
A) Spring has not yet come and no, a day of mild weather DOES NOT count!
B) Really, what would be the point? I shall not turn this place upside down just so that I can move out in a few weeks (fingers crossed).

No! I have decided I shall live in a tip. I shall let things fall where they fall and not give a damn.
Personally I would really like to mess this place up. But time is short and I would need a bit of time to plan and then for that plan to be put into action.

I cannot just go and get a blow torch. That would certainly look too suspicious.
Plus, where would be the fun in that?! It would be over too quickly.

I was more thinking along the lines of leaving things to rot underneath the floorboards, getting vermin to shack up in this place, eventually taking over the whole house. HA!

Sorry, my mind just does that sometimes. It goes creepy places.

Of course, I am not going to do any of the above.
And I will NOT turn into a horder in the next couple of weeks.
Though, sometimes I do feel like that.
I mean, the things we keep. Jeeez.
The clothes we have not worn for years.
The books we will never read.
The music that we do not listen to and never will.
The papers/magazines/newspaper articles we do not throw out.
The bits and bops we have cluttering up surfaces.
And by we I really mean I.

Funnily enough though, I am not generally obsessed when it comes to keeping things. I like to clean out once in a while.
I can let go (apparently much better where objects are concerned) and throw away. I do not feel remorse and end up digging through the garbage trying to retrieve that one special piece I cannot ever part with. It just so happens that between the cleaning sessions I manage to get so much STUFF.

So I will use this opportunity - certainly a good idea with a move looming on the horizon - to sort and sift through the things that have accumulated.

Ah, but there is always a BUT: occasionally it happens that I do find myself entering into a bit of a frenzy. I almost cannot seem to stop. It has never got too bad, but I am worried. And I also ask myself - if the urge to do something - like cleaning out one's life and all that is connected - is so strong should one not do it as thoroughly as possible?

I know, suddenly the phrase throwing one's life away gets a whole new meaning, huh?

I suppose it would be interesting to find out what I can and cannot do without.
I am sure there are a great many things in my life that are a waste of space, a waste of energy.

Would you believe it, while the thought is so very much intrigueing, I am too scared to act accordingly.
Like the rest of us, I cling to certain "security blankets".
And though I am a grown woman, I am not woman enough to loosen my grip. To actually disengage from superficial comforts, from naff habits, from a life-style that is costing too much and is still not enriched.

Which brings us back to cleaning out. Come to think of it, really fasting is another way of cleaning out.
But does it work in the long run?
Not sure, apparently that depends on how thorough and not least disciplined you are.
And if it doesn't... well, there's always next year, right?


So for me it's one OR the other. Two things at a time - never a good idea.
And, surprise, I choose cleaning.
Seriously, you DO NOT want to get or see me fasting (tell you what though, be grateful you are spared and while you're at it put that on your Cooper-List).

My life will be clutter-less.
And I stubbornly believe that it will eventually rub off on me and make me want to live and eat healthier.


... yeah, and pigs fly.

No Such Thing As Too Much

No, I have not yet had my first ice cream this year. But I have seen a few people with cones in their hands, indulging in the cool sweetness, despite the weather.

In my humble opinion, ice cream is an all-year-round thing. To be enjoyed at all times, in all season. 

Of course, there are those who believe, ice cream is a summer affair, something to look forward to, something that comes round once a year like Christmas or Easter. Fools, I say. Ice cream never goes out of fashion or taste and why in hell would I want to wait until Summer?! The pleasure of ice cream cannot be spoiled. It is always at least as great as the last time, even if the last time was just an hour ago.

And yes, we can add that to my list of sins. I am a glutton for ice cream. There were times when I would have ice cream for breakfast on Sundays. I forget the name but it was vanilla with a layer of home-made raspberry jam on top. Courtesy of Eis Christina, of course.

Why am I remembering this? Because it stems from a time when I was very foolish. Not so much where my eating-habits were concerned, but my taste in men. 

And the memory of that particular brand of bad taste does not seem to go away. No matter how many times I try to cleanse my palate, there is always this slight bitterness at the back of my mouth. Did I say slight? Nonchalant, but inaccurate. That whole sorry chapter of my life just lets me wonder again and again where the hell rational thought and sanity were hiding out during that time. 

I said last month I would like to cut out that part of my memory and basically make the whole thing undone. 

And I still feel that way. I regret not being stronger and walking away sooner from a coward of a man, a silly and selfish human being unable to share, unable to be honest, unable to speak their mind or even speak UP, a weak and sorry figure that I should never ever have allowed into my life in the first place. 

But I also wonder what I may have learned from that experience. Apart from hating that person's guts and being a little worse for wear, apart from the usual anger.

I have no idea. I am lost for words. And that is saying much coming from a verbose person. 

I refuse to believe that Eis Christina is spoiled for me now. That eating ice cream is spoiled for me now, too. 

Well, if it comes down to that then so would be A LOT of things. And then I might just as well just give up and die. 

Ah, but I can't. 

There is still so much more venom to be spread.


P.S. If I was ever made into a comic book heroine I want to go by the name of Bitter Almond and if I had a choice, my gal pals'd be Miho and Maya.

Like Totally

Young folks of today are too much for me. Really.
I cannot decipher their cryptic messages when they try to interact socially. Actual face-to-face talk.
Conversations with phrases and words, mumblings, utterings. Vocal-chord action, dude. Not so sure they have ever heard of that. And yeah, it's redundant to blame it on the whole social media fad. Though, one must wonder - is it really still a fad, was it ever? Is it here to stay, was it always? I don't know, maybe in a few years, some crazy kid will come up with something that requires keeping shtum, saying nothing about oneself or others and just being, getting on with one's life without making a big fuckin' to-do about it.
So both on- and off-line I am not sure I get them.
Perhaps that just means I am getting old and too lazy to learn anything more. But I sometimes catch myself being so bloody grateful for not having to be 17 again, and in this day and age at that. God, all that awkwardness, the insecurities.
Living at home!

Then again, apart from not living at home and having a few things sorted out - awkward moments and insecurities are like friends you never wanted, they stick around.
But despite the occasional moan and whine about the good old days and youth and looks, despite the occasional awkward moment and the doubts, I am more often than not relieved that I seem to have gained some experience, some calm and some strength which allow me to get on with it and let me be resigned, and contentedly so, that I am not 17 anymore. Or 21 or whatever, dude. (Clearly, some being the operative word here.)

More astounding than the young folks in general, mind-boggling even, are the younger members of the opposite sex. Not that I was ever any good at reading a man's mind, his thoughts, should he have any. Chances are that I get even worse the younger they are. But what is it with their inability to shut the heck up?! I don't mind friendly banter, even witty flirting. But "too much information", too much talking - not so much. Seriously, if I want to chat, I go online - they of all people should understand that.
Perhaps it's just age and having been there already and having heard it all before and having been impressed once but not anymore by their little sad stories and their antics and their adventures and how they are so misunderstood.

Sometimes though - rarely, admittedly - they surprise you. No matter what age.
They seem thoughtful. And pensive. Focused. In a good way. Surprisingly so. Ah, but there it is, that word seem. Alright, I am rambling. Could well be that I have gained less experience than I thought. Could be that I am still as inept at getting male signals right as I ever was. Maybe I am simply not seasoned and wise.

Only problem is, experience or no, when you get it all wrong at 36 you feel just like the fool you were at 17. Personally, I very much try to avoid that. Without much success evidently.

But I am not going to order my tombstone any time soon or take up knitting or some other such nonsense.
So, more silly antics of a silly lady.
I had to stop for a second and think whether I could get away with writing "young" lady. I am not sure. But "middle-aged" seems utterly wrong, too and out-dated and frankly like a spinster from a Jane Austen novel. Well, in her day and age I would have been.

Oh dear lord...

The Winter Of My Discontent

Just got home...
to find my toilet completely unconnected from the main water pipe...

Dear Void, please DO give me the strength to stay calm.
Furthermore, PLEASE let my landlord find a qualified water/drain/pipe guy who can fix this. And fix it yesterday.
Also, I would like you, darling Void, to point me in the direction to understanding WHY THE FUCK ME AGAIN????

It's Friday.
I have a flat that is still missing wallpaper, paint, tiles (don't get me started!) and...oh yes, a flippin' loo that works.
I have had a week of builders walking in and out, the rooms I can live in look like a horder's den, boxes and stuff everywhere. I am basically living out of a suitcase. Every morning I carry my toiletries around like I'm on a bloody camping site.

I must say I have been pretty darn patient and graceful about all of what's been going on lately.
But this is really taking the biscuit... I have no rising-above left in me.
I HAVE NO TOILET!

Not sure whether to laugh or cry.

Did I mention that the flat-hunt is not going too well.

So, happy freakin' weekend to all!

P.S. Dear Mr. Cooper, what do you suggest I put on that gratitude list for today?

F(requently) A(ttempted) Q(uest)

I fail regularly at being the bigger, the better person, at indeed rising above.
I much rather go for mean-spirited and petty, resentful and unforgiving.

Thus reads today's thought bubble: When is a good time to let go of one's negativity?
(Oh, I know Deepak's answer to that. And I can already hear the Void's utter silence.)

I am asking nevertheless, how can I possibly let go and forgive/forget when so much is left unsaid?
This is indeed about unfinished business and I feel like I am stewing. I need to get this off my chest at some point.
Having said that, there is the argument to be made that there is no point, the conversation (as all the conversations in that particular chapter of my life) would be a one-way street, pointless to go into it, you cannot (re-)turn.

But perhaps I need to let go of those thoughts despite the silence at the other end and the incomprehension and the failure to be sorry and mean it in order to let go of all the bad I have accumulated inside of me. The rage. The grudge. The hate.

Talk about saving yourself, huh? Frankly, I don't have time to wait for divine retribution. Could be I missed it, could also be it never comes.
And clearly, I am refering to the other party here who should be paying a little for a change, not me, because, believe you me, I have had MY share, thank you very much!

But that is also the dilemma right there - while I want to be free of my pain, I want to inflict it on others. I want to spread it around, because I find it unbearable.
Alright, honestly - it's not so much others, it is one person in particular.
We all know how it goes.
You hurt me, I hurt you back. It's like the Mafia.

Note to myself: must watch "Godfather".

And NO!, I am not going to send him a horse's head.
Where in hell would I get a horse's head, for crying out loud?! Yellow Pages?
It is tempting, though. REALLY tempting.

Also I am not turning into Ms Close 'round Fatal Attraction.

I just have a lot of delayed rage, that is all.
And that does not make me of unsound mind.


I was just asking a simple question...

It's The Little Things

Cleaned toilet with old tooth brush of ex-lover.
Feel strangely happy.

Home Is...

Some progress on the home-front. Praise the Void.
Once more I have had strange men in my flat. Fear not. All professionals of the building craft.
Waterpipes have been changed, would you believe it.
The corridor is now "plus ceiling".
Walls still pretty much the same, i.e. they do not bear looking at or writing about.

Flat-hunt: not going too well.


Am determined to stay optimistic.