Must Try Harder

Class has not been able to make any progress whatsoever on yesterday's puzzle.

Wondering now whether task was too difficult. Will try and propose it at a later time, hoping to see at least some results.


I find myself dumbfounded. This, of course, does not mean that I usually know what to say. But in this particular situation I am, alas, powerless. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, as it were.

"Go with your gut" - does not help. My gut is as likely to be as much help here as a car mechanic in an emergency room.

Of course, strictly speaking, naturally it is not ME I am talking about here. It is all hypothetical.
We are moving in the realm of ideas and scenarios. Cases, if you will.

So going back to yesterday's cryptic musings:

Fact: the cheater has cheated.
Fact: the cheater has not told.
Argument: the cheater has thus lied twice, by cheating in the first place and by omission.
Counter-argument: it's for the best, what the other doesn't know won't hurt them.
Argument: the cheater needs to tell, no good comes from lying.
Counter-argument: it's for the best, what the other doesn't know won't hurt them.

See the problem?

Now what if we'd introduce a different aspect, like the cheater is acting out of spite and whishes to hurt the other party. In so doing, the cheater hopes to find relief, clearing of his conscience and the possibility of sharing a certain burden of responsibility. All at the expense of the other - the alleged victim.
But what if the victim is not so much that but a partner in crime? What if they are equally to blame for the situation that has arisen?

Clearly, I have watched too much "The Good Wife".
Good show, though. Takes your mind off things.
Unfortunately, not always and never quite.

Session adjourned.

P.S. Must get a gavel... (I hope you're reading this, Santa.)

Believe me sir, you want this to stay hypothetical...

Once in a while one finds oneself in a bit of a dilemma. We've all been there.
So what is one to do?
Men: carry on regardless, letting silence reign
Women: share, ventilate, get outside advice and/or second opinion

No, there's no third option. Believe me, I'd have taken it if there'd been one.

To add to the fun we will say that, hypothetically, a person has cheated/lied. Is this person to confess and tell whomever they have cheated on / lied to? Would this make things better or worse? And this depends on what?

You see today's class has hit a wall...


Input anyone?

The Ticket

According to James Norman Hall, "loafing is the most productive part of a writer’s life".

True.

There's A Price For Everything

507 EUR and FIFTY Cents to be precise.

Always Go Bigger

Yup. Double whammy! I can't believe my luck...

And now for some reassurance

It's so nice to have one's fears confirmed...

Summer Souvenir

the sun has kissed you
he made love to you
your freckles seem like lovebites

and now you're sitting on the edge of my bed
a little shaky, a little tired
like some child returning home
from too much fun and play

but your soul got tangled
by the beach
unable to let go
not wanting to

so you ended up holding the sky in one hand
the ground in the other
bringing me a little of each as a Summer souvenir

the sun has kissed you
he made love to you
your freckles seem like lovebites

and now you're breathing out the salty air
that got lost within your lungs
and your lips they taste of sea, of rolling tides and spray

the sound of your voice against my ear is
like sand running through my fingers -
tickling my skin
a second of soft warmth
then gone

I'm not listening
but can I steal a little kiss
as a Summer souvenir?

the sun has kissed you
he made love to you
your freckles seem like lovebites

you're leaving

a ship's departure from the shore
your dress you wear like a sail
brightly reflecting the sun

with every breeze there's motion
you go further
                         and
                                                 further


until your freckles are
only a smudge
a blur
a thought

Once was...

... I forgot.

16:37

That is the time I managed to heave my old bones out of bed. And I am proud of it! Eat that, Early Bird!

Also I look out of the window and at the mighty endless blue sky, the clouds making shapes and funny faces and I must confess: it leaves me totally unimpressed.

So what we've had a bit of an under-developed Summer?! Why this need for perfection, why this unhappiness?

And why oh why this blatant disregard of the need for acceptance and gratitude. I should inform the Bradley Police!

Also I am confused as to why everyone is getting their knickers in a twist about the blooming weather. Since it looks like this is what it's gonna be from now on we should really get used to the fact of Summers being either rainy and fiendishly cold affairs or so desert-like that we may witness a rise in things such as Riding a Camel - Beginners Classes, or How to decorate your Drifting Dune.
I do believe it has been made sufficiently clear that the chances of this weather/climate business ever getting better again are super slim (they're like the skinny jeans, the drain pipes of meterology). I mean it's clear that it's downhill from here, right? It's NOT going to get better (unless each and everyone of us decides to vacate and locomote at exactly the same time) and thus it's a bit like aging. You can't fight it, you can't win. Best thing you CAN do is do it gracefully.

So here I am gracefully sleeping in on sunny days, gracefully sticking to the shade and gracefully declining invitations to activities that involve exposure to UV rays.

Really, I am all about grace these days. I am practising detachment. I am not pissing and moaning about things I have no control over. You should try it some time. It's so liberating.

Only problem now: what am I going to do with that Bangin' Bikini Bod of mine?!

Talk About Over-Compensating

I leave this space blank for weeks at a time in order to pen - with tremendous effort, I might add - one big ol' lump of thougths.
Must try to be more consistent.
However, I have been struggling with yesterday's post for ages. Said lump of thoughts has been sitting with me, staring me in the face, stubbornly refusing to take shape. I kept writing and deleting ad nauseam.
So forgive me for feeling a little smug today.
Some people cure terrible diseases, I muddle through and finish a damn post that's been a long time coming. Results, clearly! On a different scale to be sure. But still...

So, Coop, what you say we be grateful for a moment here? You for all your big piles of money and I for showing some tenacity for a change.
Deal!

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.