addicted to love

When I'm alone, I like to watch romantic movies. Perhaps I do it because it takes away the loneliness. Or perhaps it's because that's when they work best.

When I was younger and used to spend a lot of time with my aunt (some 10 years ago before she got married), I used to wonder why she was 30 and still single. There were some quite obvious reasons, she has a sharp tongue and she's a fussy woman, but I decided it was because she'd indoctrined herself to have stupidly high standards and also to look for something that didn't happen.

She used to read a lot of Mills and Boon books. She had boxes of them, a standing order in fact. She'd lend them to me, and I wondered if she wasn't waiting for this dream guy to come and sweep her off her feet in real life. I understood perfectly well why she liked them. Despite their formulaic nature, they are almost like a sugar rush - the agonising wait for the protagonists to finally come to their senses and admit their undying love for each other. And then it does, and it's happily ever after and you can convince your aching heart that love really must exist in the world and that one day, it will happen to you.

These days I am a lot more cynical. I look at my uncle, the last person in my family to get married. Having had been (sort-of) heartbroken by a girl my age a couple of years ago, he gave in to the pressure of my grandparents and his own laziness to meeting women the conventional way, and married a girl 14 years his junior. They were introduced to each by family, matchmaking meddlers who had his best intentions at heart I guess. Yeah sure, he is now 34 and married, with a gorgeous little baby girl conceived a month into their marriage. Do I think they love each other? Hell no.
Do I believe that they will? Yeah probably. It's possible for love to develop over time, and in his case, even if it goes a bit wrong - she is unlikely to leave. My uncle is financially sound and will ensure her a very comfortable life. So what if she's barely 20?

I feel sorry for her though - to be married so soon without even having lived and loved properly. To have experienced the joy and pain of wanting to be with someone so badly and deeply. To think about them almost every waking moment of the day, and to drift off to sleep with them in your thoughts. To spend time with someone and relive those moments over and over when you are apart. To be constantly checking your phone or email for some sort of word from them and the feeling of elation when there is.

In the last few days I have wondered if that'll be the reason why I'll never be happy in my life. This need to feel touched, moved by love. That aching feeling inside my chest that makes breathing almost difficult. Is it possible to sustain this in a relationship?

I just finished watching a movie that made me both laugh and cry. It was a romance, and a comedy, and a bit of a drama. It's called My Sassy Girl Strangely, it was a guy who recommended it to me - a korean guy - presumably because he totally fancied the girl who plays the main character in it. It did fantastically well in both Korea and Hong Kong in 2001. And in fact, Dreamworks is in the process of remaking it.
It's a wonderful film that I was very touched by. So much so that I spent the latter half in tears - and some of that was from happiness. It's not often a movie can do that. I'm sitting here now listening to a beautiful variation of the Pachelbel's Canon in D by George Winston that was featured in the film. I'd love to be able to get the sheet music and learn to play it. This piece will probably always remind me of the film now.

I feel very lucky. I have the choice and the free will to be able to live my life the way that I think it should be lived. This year I chose to break up a four year relationship against the advice of some. My mum told me that women have to make sacrifices. That if you can find someone who loves you, it should be enough. My ex told me that if we broke up the life that I knew would fall apart. That I was giving everything up on a whim. A sensible compassionate voice in my head told me that I shouldn't watch so many romantic movies. But I couldn't ignore the ache in my heart. I believe in love. I can't help myself. If you can't be with someone who fills that gap - then why bother?

Merry Xmas

It's 2am. I've just left the kitchen.

Tomorrow, there will be 32 of us sitting down to dinner. We will be having shabu shabu, turkey, and god knows what else. Since 6pm this evening, I have been in the kitchen preparing food, salad, kneading dough and cooking. I'm exhausted and I haven't even finished. Tomorrow morning, we will have to get up early in order to be able to get the 2 turkeys into the oven by 9am. God help me. Next year I'm making sure that I am out of the country for Christmas. This isn't worth it.

chopstix

I never realised how hard it is to play the piano when you're slightly drunk.

Totally failed to go shopping after work today when I got summoned by a colleague who had started his Xmas holidays early. Having gone for Christmas lunch at 12pm, by 6pm he was still in the same pub only moved downstairs and all his drinking buddies had deserted him. Good judgement having deserted me momentarily, I went to join him and nearly 3 hours later I emerge to run home late for dinner with my parents. My parents luckily didn't even notice my slight drunkenness.

Usually I don't venture near my piano unless I'm feeling a bit depressed. But after stuffing my face at the dinner table I had this whimsical notion to play a few tunes on my poor piano :) I didn't embarrass myself too much :)))

I'm sitting now at my pc in my room. Still feeling drunk. There is a conversation going on on my doorstep about planning permission. Outside my room there is a game of boules going on. I'm ignoring everything except Royksopp filtering out of my stereo. And for once, I feel happy :)

I was here....

Faithless @Brixton Academy 6th December 2005

all other things bright and beautiful

I'm going to Sweden in January. I'm really looking forward to it. I'm going to be staying at the Ice Hotel which is built out of ice. It's going to be so beautiful.

Sometimes I think that my preoccupation with beauty comes from my firm belief that I have none. I worry that inside I am this black piece of coal. Inanimate and cold. The edges are white from where I have tried to stoke it. What use is a lump of dead coal?
I find it ironic that I have devoted half my life to trying to make people around me happy, but in actual fact what I seem to end up doing is making them unhappy.
On the outside I feel like a sponge. I soak up all the criticism and assumptions that people make about me. I don't try to wring it out and in the end it overflows.

Sometimes I try and think about what I consider to be my good points. I think that I'm a compassionate and caring person. I think that I am generous and considerate. So why is it that people accuse me of being selfish and cold?

Once, a friend of mine shouted at me in the street. He told me I was selfish, in front of everyone else I knew. I wanted to go in a different direction to him.
I didn't talk to him for six months. Is it because I hold grudges? No.
I don't think he ever did, nor will he ever understand why I ignored him. I will never mention it again. People who know me, know how easygoing I am. I am open-minded and reasonable. I try never to make blind judgements and I am pretty difficult to offend. But it's not impossible. It offends me when people make assumptions about me and why I do and say things. He had no idea what I was really like. The kind of person I really am. The self-sacrificing girl inside of me. The girl who is desperate for acceptance and recognition. So to me, for a person to call me selfish is someone who doesn't know me. And has just assumed that quality about me. It hurt me, to have that thrown in my face in public.

I know someone who would probably argue, saying that it's normal for people to form judgements and that I was probably giving the impression that I was being spoilt. Therefore it's perfectly acceptable for someone to assume that I was, if I didn't prove otherwise. I guess I don't work that way. I know that I should have my own reasons for the things that I do, and I believe that people should respect that - just like I respect that other people have their own personal reasons for their actions. It's not always obvious or black and white.

On days like this I feel alone. Surrounded by people I care about yet I feel like I might as well be on a different planet. That I'm a mere shadow - forgotten as easily as yesterdays sunset. Just like my tears. Tomorrow I will look back and think how silly I was to sit for so long in my depression. I'm trapped in a cage of my own making. My mind is a blur of thoughts - so scattered that I can barely formulate them into coherent sentences. And then it is empty - devoid of all emotion.

Some things are simple. Easy to understand and appreciate. That's what I know I will love about the Ice Hotel and my adventure there. Some things are just beautiful. It won't last forever but it doesn't matter because people will remember it forever.

Tick tock

I'm sitting at my desk after a night out. It's not late - far too sensible for that these days. Good thing too, as I have a 10am meeting tomorrow morning.

I'm listening to a preview of Madonna's new album. It's great - I must remember to buy it. She is such an inspiration to me. She seems like a totally focussed lady, and I could do to learn from that. I've been sitting idly thinking about my own life, and how I seem to cruise along. I'm not convinced that's the best thing to do. I mean, I have great faith in my instincts, and it's worked for me so far. But I think that time is running out a little and I need to work out what I want from life. Whether it's about careers or relationships, I really think that I've had long enough of just 'trying' things out.

Sometimes I stop and think, shit, at my age (26) my parents had already had me. I was nearly 5 when my mum was 26. I am nowhere near marriage or children. I'm not even convinced that I've found my career in life. It's all very well being a developer and seeming to do very well at it but I'm sure that I wasn't meant for this job. I hate it for a start :)

I keep having these dreams about elephants. In the 3 weeks I've been back from Thailand I've had four dreams about elephants. And every time they are baby ones. My friends have just told me that it means that my biological clock is ticking and that the dreams are overt reminders. This worries me even more :) Whatever can it mean??? Everywhere around me I am getting weird pregnancy omens. Documentaries I watch, movies I see, friends and colleagues. Even tonight, one of my friends announced she was 3 months pregnant. Eek!

Farewell Thailand

This is it. The end of my two week adventure to tropical Thailand. Today has just been about whiling away the hours until my flight back to London. It's Saturday and this means the big weekend market in Bangkok. And big is truly an understatement - it is easily the biggest market I have ever seen in my life. You can buy everything here, from religious knicknacks to fighting cockerels. All manner of junk. Used clothes, new clothes, plastic fruit, works of art, stuffed insects, herbs and spices, everything has it's own section and it's a nightmare to try and work out where you are and where you need to go. Amidst the crowd and the heat, I did the cowardly thing and opted to escape to the air-conditioned haven of the shopping malls instead.

I have to be honest and say that there isn't much about Bangkok that I really nice. It's loud and busy and noisy. The traffic is horrendous and if you want to explore the west side of the river - good luck to you. On the east there is some semblance of decent transportation but the traffic is just as bad. I'm actually glad to be leaving.

So it's goodbye to the warm weather and cheap food. But on a plus note it's also goodbye to mosquitoes, overly hot weather (3 showers a day), overcrowding and being constantly mistaken for being a native. Oh yes, and not forgetting the most important thing - real milk. The first thing I want to do when I get home is to put the kettle on and make a decent cup of tea. Thailand has awful milk. I have no idea what it is, but it smells like that awful carton UHT stuff and it makes a bloody disgusting cup of tea. Bring out those Tetley teabags...

beach bunny

It's been a long old week so far. Since Monday I have trekked for some 4 hours up a mountain, scaled rocks and waded through streams, crawled around in caves and spent the night in a north tribe village somewhere up a mountain. It was the most intense and gruelling experience I have ever had - and it was amazing. Exhausting but amazing.

Today I am in beautiful Koh Samui. I flew in last night to the only airport I have ever seen that is, simply a glorified hut. It's a constant 30 degrees here, and very relaxing. All I have to worry about is topping up the suntan lotion, and where to eat. The water is clear and blue and the sand is soft as it should be. Today we hired a moped and explored some of the island - not the most successful trip ever - I nearly hurt myself trying to get to a waterfall (accessing the tourist attractions here is almost an extreme sport in itself) and fed a couple of mosquitoes for my trouble. Oh well.

Tomorrow I return to Bangkok. Hopefully I will see more of it this time. My adventure is almost over :( It's a shame but I'm happy to leave Thailand on a high. It's been the most amazing experience for me in all sorts of ways. But more on that when I get home :) Off to sample a little nightlife now - koh samui style...

ken hom eat your heart out!

I can't believe that it's Friday already! For me, it's just under an hour until Saturday now. I have had 2 thai cooking classes and now an expert at making:

- phad thai
- thai green chicken curry
- roast duck red curry
- chicken in pandan leaves

The cooking classes have been really good fun. Yesterday was a little bit intimidating, mainly because I didn't really know what to expect. I got picked up, taken to the city office for registration and then we were all driven to Sompon's school which is 25 minutes drive outside the city. We all strapped on our beautiful aprons and got started on some vegetable carving. It's much harder than it looks :)
The general format of the day is as follows:

- sit in classroom
- watch chef explain ingredients and cook dish
- go to workstation and cook dish
- eat own dish

For some reason, the last couple of days I have suffered from severely poor short term memory and as soon as I got back to my workstation couldn't quite remember the order of action. Which veg to chop first, which ones to finely chop and then what order they went into the pan. Luckily, Sompon's lovely ladies and slightly camp guy were on hand to shout out instructions and give us all a helping hand. No one set themselves on fire and no one really messed up :) Well, no one would know anyway as everyone ate their own food...

Today, Sompon himself taught us how to make pad thai and thai green curry. He was a very good teacher and of course, there was much cameraderie in the classroom. The only problem that I have with these classes is that there is far too much eating involved. Every day there is one soup to start, some sort of appetizer, 2 main courses and a dessert. This morning I made sure not to eat any breakfast just so that I wouldn't feel quite as stuffed as I felt yesterday. It didn't really help...

After the cooking class, I arranged to meet up later with 2 of my classmates for a beer and then to check out the deep fried insects. I wasn't entirely convinced that I wanted to try any, but I wanted to be there when they did :)

I will have to post some pictures when I get back to London, it was really quite revolting watching them eat. I could see them concentrating hard not to think about what they were eating. In the end, I tried one thing - some sort of worm that looked like an oversize maggot. It didn't taste of much really, it was just really crispy. After that, I refused to try the others. This little vendor had crickets and this really really disgusting water beetle that was huge. One of the guys had this and said that apparently it was ok. Yuck yuck yuck yuck yuck. He can take all the street cred for trying it. We all went on to this amazing teak house restaurant afterwards to eat some real food which was pretty fantastic. With beer and cocktails, we ended up spending 300 baht each, a small fortune by Thai standards I guess but in GBP it works out to be less than a fiver. Not exactly breaking the bank.

Tomorrow is my final cooking class. Not sure what I'll be cooking up - but I'm sure it will be good and it will be easy. Thai cooking is fantastic - all the work is in the preparation. After that, it's all just chucking all the ingredients into the pan and cooking for 5 minutes. I love it!

Sunday I will probably be going to Doi Suthep (mountain with temple on) and then it's off for a two day trek in the wilds of northern thailand.

Bring on the curried fishballs

It's my second day in Thailand. I'm currently sitting in a little internet cafe outside the night market in Chiang Mai. It's nearly 10pm and pretty busy already.
It's a totally different world in Thailand, although I don't feel so much of a culture shock. Presumably this is due to the fact that in many ways, Thailand reminds me of Hong Kong.

The one thing I can't get used to is the totally incomprehensible language. It's a given that I won't understand what people are saying, but the indecipherable squiggles of the written language has me totally perplexed. I guess that's what it must be like for westerners and the chinese language. There is absolutely no guessing what anything says.

I am all templed out today. It doesn't take that much (reminds me of Kyoto). Chiang Mai supposedly has some 300 temples. I went to 3 today and that's enough for me already. They are all very similar - each with their own buddhas made from a different material or in a different pose. Besides, I don't really have time until Sunday as I now have 3 days worth of cooking class :) Ken Hom watch out!!

Need to move on and eat now. I am desperate to try some curried fishballs...

From London with Love

Today is the day! It's just before 7.30 and I am pretty much ready to set off on my first journey across half the world by myself. It's a pretty scary thought though I am definitely looking forward to it.

It's been a pretty busy time for me as usual. A private chat with a colleague at work snowballed to what may be an important turning point in my career. Or perhaps not, but it signifies a big change in the days ahead.

My last thoughts before I go? I hope that in Thailand, I find something new. Something beautiful and everlasting memories. And if not, I hope that I at least find adventure :)

So, next stop, Bangkok. Till then, ja mata.

postscript

When I was in Budapest earlier this year, we visited (it's almost compulsory) the thermal baths. At this particular one we went to, there were some outdoor pools and one of them had a sort of river rapid merry-go-round. Once you joined it, you were swept around with the force of the water and it was hard to leave. When you finally come off, laughing from the exhilaration of it all, you stop and watch the people who are still caught in the current.

Days like this remind me of that. My life is a blur of activity, of allowing myself to be caught in the rush of living. Then finally I step back for a while, and contemplate the place where I have ended up.

Where am I now? My days seem to be an endless array of work, drinks, impromptu culture injections and holidays booked on a whim. I can barely take stock of what I'm really doing, what I really want and where I'm going with it all. I console myself that with all the stuff going on in my personal life, it's ok to take things easy for a while. To enjoy myself. A little voice tells me that it's just an excuse to not have to make any real decisions. I believe that voice.

the sweet sound of silence

Sometimes I wonder if I try too hard to be something that I'm not. All my life I've thought that I had the potential to do something special, to achieve something that I can look back one day and feel proud.

I have high expectations of myself. It's why I find it impossible to take criticism. It's not that I think I'm always right, but the exact opposite. The fear and sadness that it's all true. That I'm destined to be inconsequential because I was never meant to be more. That no matter hard I try, it'll never be good enough.

I have a bit of an inferiority complex. I guess it probably goes back to my childhood. I studied hard and did everything that I thought an obedient chinese girl should do. I stayed home and babysat my brother, got good grades, helped out with the family business when I was old enough. I didn't complain and didn't expect any more than that.

I remember one night, I was working at my parents restaurant. I was helping with the washing up in the kitchen. My mum wanted me to wash up in the bar as we were busy but I was reluctant because I was embarrassed to be in view of the customers. My mum was strssed out because it was busy and her staff were being exceptionally inefficient. I was the unlucky scapegoat who got told off. She shouted at me for not helping out in the bar and told me that I shouldn't worry about the customers looking at me as I was too unattractive for them to bother about. She'll probably never remember this but I've never forgotten. Whatever anyone else might think, I don't hold it against her. That's not the reason why I've never forgotten. I just have a habit of taking things to heart and not saying anything. I guess I'm just a true follower of suffering in silence. The tragic thing is that I believed her, and I probably still do, deep down inside. My insecurity gnaws at me and I find myself giving up on myself even when no one else has.

When I was little and in junior school, I was known as the mute girl because I didn't speak. It wasn't as if I couldn't or didn't understand the language. Quite the contrary. I probably had a better grasp of the language than most of the other kids. I just didn't want to talk. My mind remained active yet my lips remained shut. At home I was fine. This didn't change until I hit 11. I realised that I was about to start secondary school and that if I didn't do something drastic, I would remain the mute girl for the whole of my life. So I did. I started talking.

Some 15 years on, I still face the same determination that I did then. That I have to change the way that I am, the way that I feel comfortable to be able to integrate with the world around me. I'm a little tired from the effort. I wish I could be me.

I dream of Tiffany

I wonder if I was a magpie in my past life. Sitting here entranced by the shiny silver and diamonds on the Tiffany & Co website. Everything is so beautiful. If only everything could retain it's lustre and brilliance for always.

What is it about jewellery I wonder. The need to adorn ourselves with beautiful or unusual objects. Is it like the way that peacocks spread their feathers? In a ritual to attract mating partners? Or perhaps an attempt to boost our self-confidence? Diamonds are beautiful forever, not fragile and ephemeral like human beauty. I wonder if one day when I am old and wrinkled I will still crave those diamonds. When they will just be a reminder of my faded youth.

I wonder.

The Big Day

I did it!!

As the day of my 10k run loomed ever closer, I started having doubts as to whether I'd be able to make it. I totally failed to do any running at all last week, and by Friday, I'd lost all enthusiasm for it. Worst case scenario, I'd have to walk it, I thought.

Sunday morning, 8am I had to get up. I had to be at Victoria Park for 10am, 30 minutes before my wave started. I felt fine as I had some cereal and some juice to keep my strength up. However, by the time I got to the bus the nervousness and apprehension kicked in. I didn't want to let myself down. I felt bad for not having done any training during the week, even though I had taken Wednesday off work for that very purpose. Having set myself my first physical challenge, was I going to fail? Sitting on the bus going to the park, I sat quietly thinking. It was too late to change my mind about the run. I'd dragged my boyfriend early out of bed to support me, I'd made him run with me on Sundays that could have been better spent relaxing, I'd paid the fee and put in the time training myself. It was all just a matter of forming a strategy. Mind over matter, girl. I was fairly certain I was fit enough to make it.

When I got to the park, the first wave was already on their way round, presumably on their second lap. I watched them, faces set in concentration, a small army of red Nike shirts and black shorts. Wow, these guys are taking it seriously I thought.
As I approached the starting point, I could suddenly see a gigantic crowd of people in red. This must be the rest of my wave, I thought. I had no more time to worry. A voice came on over the tannoy asking wave 2 runners to go to the starting pen. I had just about enough time for a power pee before joining the rest of the crowd. I felt a sudden rush of energy and excitement. This was it! I'd waited some six weeks for this. I stared out through the railings at the spectators as I did a few stretches and waited for the gun to fire. I've been there before, I thought. On the other side of the fence watching a crowd of psyched-up crazies sacrificing a sunday morning to run around a park. It's so different on this side of the fence. Each person here has their reason for running. We're all hoping to make it in good time, our very presence giving testament to our commitment. I was hoping that I wouldn't be stretchered off twitching.

The nervous energy threatened to spill over and I started bouncing up and down. There was a loud chatter amongst the runners. Then suddenly, a countdown and off we went. Too large a crowd, we all walked until we hit the starting post and each of us then broke into a jog. It was pretty easy to get to 5k. I'd found a comfortable pace and was barely sweating. I considered my options at this point. I really wanted to make the run without stopping. I also wanted to make the run within an hour and I wasn't sure if I could manage it at that pace. I decided to wait to decide, it was still too early. I continued but picked up the pace a tiny bit. At 7k my legs had started to notice the work I was putting them through. Slowing down wasn't an option now - it was painful to slow down so I kept going. By 9k I was seriously contemplating stopping, it was a mental struggle to ignore my aching leg muscles and I couldn't seem to get enough air into my lungs. I really wanted to stop. I told myself off. You can't stop now. You're doing this for yourself. No one else will care if you stop, they will understand, but you won't be able to forgive yourself for not trying harder. I reminded myself that I had conquered Oblivion. This was merely feeling tired. As I have been told, I am a pretty stubborn woman and was utterly determined to make it without walking. That last kilometre seemed like 100 miles. All around me people were giving up and walking. I started running faster. Getting there faster would mean less suffering I thought.

By the time I got to the final bend and the finishing line was in sight, I pushed myself to the limit and sprinted (as much as I can sprint, being a shortarse) towards to end. I can still remember the elation that I felt as I ran that those final metres, seeing my smiling boyfriend waiting with the camera, hearing the cheering and clapping around me. The minutes that followed were a bit of a blur. My body wanted to collapse, my legs stopped going on autopilot, I absently mindedly collected a medal and went to seek water. I looked at my watch. I'd made it in under an hour. It was the icing on the cake.

water, air, ice and white horses

Wow. Last week was definitely a week of new experiences for me. I've barely even had time to digest it all...

Tuesday I had a day off work and spent it trying to relax. I spent an hour in a floatation tank which was the most bizarre experience... I'm not even sure I found it entirely pleasant. Basically, you get into this strange capsule full of warm water. You lie back and try to relax all your muscles whilst music is played to lull you into a sort of stupor. You turn the lights out and then in my case..
- you feel like you're falling. it's hard to orientate yourself as you are floating but you cannot feel your limbs.
- some time later (it's hard to keep track of time) the pain starts. a very uncomfortable ache spreads through your neck and shoulders and lasts for seemingly ages and ages and ages
- the pain disappears and you drift in and out of a light sleep. possible snoring and twitching occurs
- more pain, this time in the lower back.
- more twitching, only this time you sort of wake up, forget you're in water and thrash about slightly. the water movement makes you bob from side to side
- start to feel a bit seasick. try desperately to ignore it
- it's hard to breathe. you wonder how long you've been in this watery box. you wonder if your feet are still there.
- the music starts playing again indicating it's time to get out. you fumble for the door button and get out.

Getting out of the capsule was uncomfortable. My body felt heavy. Firstly there is a slight relief at the fresh cool air rushing into my lungs and then the nausea came back. I was pretty glad to get out of that room although once I'd gone outside, I was aware of a sense of detachment and relaxation. It was like a good session in a sauna. I was spaced out and it was as if I'd left something behind in that little room.
I'm glad I went, though I'm not sure if I'd want to do it again.

My next experience was the confrontation of one of my fears.
I'd always been pretty scared of heights and rollercoasters. Yeah I've been to Disneyworld but all the rides there have a strict emphasis on the fun element. So, I decided that a trip to Alton Towers was in order. I last went there in 1997 I think - and don't remember going on any of the rides at all so either I didn't, or it was such a bad experience I blocked it completely from my mind :) Anyway. My mission was to go on Oblivion. I saw it the last time I went and swore never to put myself through the ordeal of going on it. It's a simple ride. You sit in a car, go up a really steep incline, the ride tilts you so you can see the drop, then releases you to plunge into a black hole. It's horrible. And very high.

I saved that ordeal for last. I had to build myself up to it. The other rides at Alton Towers are pretty cool - Nemesis is fantastic. A new ride called Air is a very strange concept. You ride it horizontally - you spend most of it face down, watching the ground whizz by, and the rest of the ride on your back, watching the sky. A bit like flying I guess :) So... by the time I reached Oblivion I'd put my heart through it's paces but that didn't stop the fear and the dread that went through my mind as I walked through the empty queue. It was off-peak and midweek which meant that the park wasn't all that busy (which was great in most cases). Of course, I was almost hoping that there would be a queue as I was so scared but as my luck would have it, I was able to walk straight onto the ride. Before I could protest, I was unable to move and on my way up. It's odd but I don't remember much of the drop except for the fear. It was a petrifying and extreme experience that I wouldn't want to relive in a hurry. But I did it! And I was glad afterwards.

Thursday was the Goldfrapp gig. This was a bit of an experience because it was at Brixton Academy and I'd never been there before. To be honest, Brixton Academy has a bit of a reputation for being a bit of a dodgy place. Being a nice girl I don't often go to that kind of place :P
The gig was pretty good - particularly when they played Ride a White Horse where all these girls in tight outfits and horsey tails came onto the stage :))) For some reason I found that rather appealing...

Finally, yesterday I went to this fantastic new bar called the Absolut Ice Bar It was (literally) very cool. You have to reserve a time slot to go there and they give you these silver eskimo outfits to keep warm before you go in. The bar is kept at a temperature of minus five degrees and the walls and bar and seats are made of ice. The drinks are served in glasses carved from ice. Fantastic place :) But, as one review of the bar that I read put it, it's not a place to check people out. Not unless you have a penchant for silver eskimo outfits ;)


So... all in all I had a very busy week. This week I want to chill out and prepare myself for the physical and mental challenge that is my 10K run on Sunday :((((( eek!

pothole

Today, for the first time in a long while, I thought seriously about my options at work. I'm not an irrational person, but I am emotional and I take a lot of things quite seriously. The last time I thought maybe it was time for me to move on to perhaps another job, I was unhappy with the person I had to work for. In my eyes he was totally inept at management and only entertaining at best as a colleague. An attention-seeker and a failure at blagging - his only redeeming feature in my eyes was that he was more astute than he looked. It's hard to work for someone who you cannot respect.

Today, I felt it again. The little voice in my head saying, "are you sure you want to be here? you can do better than this. there are other opportunities waiting for you."
In the space of 2 minutes, this can happen. I have been criticised for taking too long to respond to a question. But my defense is that it's because I try and think about the consequences of my answers. It doesn't take a lot to knock the balance of a positive or negative outcome to any response you might give to even the most simple of questions. It's all a question of delivery. Location, wording, timing. It all matters. In maybe a minute or less you can fuck up so badly that everything goes wrong.

My point is this: when my manager gave me a piece of news today, it irreversibly changed the way I felt about my job, about the management, about my worth. When he intended this or not (I doubt it) I felt demotivated and undervalued. I felt reduced to an employee number in a very short space of time. I began to question my loyalty, felt somewhat bitter, angry and also upset. It's strange isn't it?

Some hours (and a fair few cocktails) later, I feel somewhat more rational. I have two days off work. I can think about how much it all means to me. I can think about my plan of action. I have an hour session in a floatation tank tomorrow. That's plenty of time to think about what I want to do. I will never stop being an emotional person. I will never be able to be ruthless in the workplace. But at least I can be rational and try and do what I believe to be the right thing in my own way.

Choices again. It always seems to be all about making choices. If only I could turn to page 281 to find out the outcome.

Toothbrush Thief

I don't understand. I live in a house of four people. Occasionally there are six people, when my parents come down on a Monday to visit. So, how is it that in our bathroom, there are ten toothbrushes? Who are these four other mystery residents?
I've noticed recently that somebody keeps moving my toothbrush from it's rightful place in the Toothbrush Dinosaur. I raised this issue at the dinner table last week and no one owned up to the dirty deed.
Well ok, that all sounds pretty petty. What does it really matter anyway? However, in the hours between me getting up yesterday and getting back home (maybe 7.30am to 2pm), my toothbrush VANISHED! It is nowhere to be seen and I was forced to use a new one last night. Who stole my toothbrush?!?

This house is turning into a House of Mystery. Hmph.

Anyway, life goes on pretty much at full pelt otherwise. I went for a run this morning for the first time in three weeks, and it was noticably more difficult that the last time. Having said that, it seemed to take less time so perhaps I was pushing myself a little too hard. October 16th draws ever nearer though and I will soon need to start running longer distance in order to be able to make the 10k.

Tomorrow I go and visit my new baby cousin. She is having a month old party. Well, her parents are throwing a party on her behalf. I doubt very much that she'll have a clue what the fuss is about. I haven't seen my uncle (the father) since his wedding, and in that time his wife has already dropped her first sprog. What is the world coming to? She's only 19. At this rate, by the time she gets to my age she'll be on her third. I guess you pick and choose your path.

Me vs Moths - 39 : KO

The mystery of the moth infestation has finally been solved.

On Monday evening, my mum was startled to see a maggot-like creature crawling up one of our kitchen cabinet doors. Upon receiving the SOS, my brother came down to investigate and opened the cabinet to find hundreds of the buggers crawling around the chinese herbs and cashewnuts that my mum stashes away in these cupboards. Moths fluttered out of the cabinet by the dozens. Strange that we had never discovered this before, but we don't have much call to open these cupboards I guess. My poor brother got to work exterminating these moth larvae and prising them out of the joints with a toothpick whilst I sat at my pc blissfully unaware.

Come Tuesday night, I went to cook some rice for dinner and when I went to open the rice cooker, was confronted by a wriggling maggot on top of the cooker. Eek! I squished it with a tissue. Then I saw another, crawling bravely along the tabletop. I squished this one too, and recoiled at the popping noise. It took so long to get that popping noise out of my head..

Anyway, it seems like for weeks the moths have been breeding in that cupboard and nobody realised that it was happening in the kitchen. We all thought that they were flying in from the windows. Since Monday, the house has been somewhat devoid of moths and we are all rather pleased!

go Gadget go

I am the proud parent of a 3 day old PSP. My new baby is a beauty, all shiny and well behaved - he chirps happily whilst awake and sleeps soundly at night.


It's been a while since I called upon my gadget-girl alter ego. Quashed by the evil ones at Mastercard, she has been keeping a low profile for quite some time. However, the bitch is back and back with a vengeance. Head turning this way and that with all the cool new toys that are begging to be bought, the PSP has proved an effective distraction. It is an incredible piece of kit - pure heaven for those gadget inclined. Although the games released are not quite as jawstopping as would have hoped, there are good things to come. What can I say? I love it. The sound is good, the screen is excellent, the controls perfectly usable. It supports mp3s. It will play video off a memory card. It has wi-fi. It's widescreen. Hell, I can even store cheesy holiday snaps on it. All it needs now is a digital tv receiver, a touchscreen and a stylus and I will be a playstation convert forever.

Monday Moans

How I hate Monday mornings. Dragged reluctantly out of the haven that is a warm bed and a soft pillow, I arrived in the office this morning with an immeasurable thirst for caffeine and a less than amicable mood.

I was therefore none too amused on my way down to the office cafeteria to observe the unacceptable lift behaviour of an unknown colleague so I thought I would share my gripes in the hope of easing my grumpiness..

The Lift Neighbours I Love To Hate

• The Lift Control Freak

  
  This type of species will gravitate automatically to the position where the lift buttons are. They will feel the strong need to hover their index finger over the door close button in order to minimise the time that a lift spends on a floor that is not the floor that they are getting off at. When they accidentally jab the button too soon and almost take someone's head off, they apologise insincerely and jab the button again. Repeat ad infinitum until they get to their floor. Note that usually, what will happen is that all the button-jabbing will confuse the lift and the doors will open and close and cause even more of a delay.
  



• The Desperate Lift Waitee

  
  This person is the bane of any lift user. In situations where there is more than one lift in use, and there are lots of people waiting for lifts, they will exhibit their impatience by pressing the lift call button repeatedly whether or not there is a lift waiting to leave the floor. It does not register to this kind of person that pressing the button severely delays the lift from leaving and causes much opening and closing of doors. This person is stupid and should be slapped around mercilessly.
  



• The Lift Socialite

  
  There are many species of the Socialite. There is the Tube Train Socialite, the Escalator Socialite, the Shop Doorway Socialite, The Stairway Socialite and many more. These people have no regard for others and will happily chat away with their friends in the most obstructive places. The Lift Socialite in particular will stand in the doorway of a lift with a friend chatting and refuse to budge when the lift doors open. This causes distress and annoyance to the poor people who need to get off. Sometimes, the Lift Socialite will also feel the need to spot people they know who are standing somewhere else in the lift and attempt to create conversation over the heads of others, forcing them to have to listen to the boring social smalltalk or equally boring officetalk that they engage in. Advice to other liftgoers: carry your iPod at all times and perfect your shoulder-barge.
  



• The Lift Addict

  
  There are no excuses for these people who take a lift just to go one floor up or down. Take the stairs will you. If you don't know where they are, find out.
  



• The Lift Joker

  
  A rare breed in offices but rife in public spaces like hotels and department stores, this person will press all the buttons on the controls as they depart the lift, causing the lift to stop at every single floor. This renders the lift practically useless.
  



• The Noxious Lift User

  
  Now this breed of lift user can make long lift journeys hell. With a total disregard for others, this type of person will belch, fart,sneeze and cough whenever they feel like it. Likely to make some lift-users exit prematurely.
  

what dreams may come

My dreams are getting increasingly disturbing of late. Perhaps it's the unusual heatwave we are having, or perhaps I am exhibiting some underlying psychological problems during my sleep.

On Saturday night I had a dream about taxidermy at London Zoo.

On Sunday night I had a dream about the invasion of aliens in the UK. It was very Doctor Who'esque.

On Monday night I had a dream about group fisting. (yes I do mean that kind of fisting) This woke me up in shock and I realised I needed to relieve myself.(obviously I mean peeing) Upon falling asleep again, that dream was followed closely by a dream about an elaborate hoax on me by the company that I work for. It involved my mobile phone being missing, strange stations in the middle of nowhere and people having nails hammered into their foreheads.

Last night I dreamt that I nearly died, twice. The first time I was sitting on a very strange Tube-like train. There were round porthole windows and it was very low so we all had to crouch inside as if we were refugees. We were going past some sort of construction site and I went to make a phonecall, and the second I pressed the button there was an explosion outside. Miraculously, we escaped unscathed.
I'd presumably gotten to my destination as the next thing I know, I am sitting in a very fancy bar with my friend V. We're both knocking back fancy cocktails and trying to ignore the leering stares from some guys sitting on a nearby table. We go to pay, and the bill comes to over £300. On the way outside, I stop and stare up and a huge bit of scaffolding above the doorway. For some reason I am terrified of stepping under it even though lots of people are coming and going with no qualms whatsoever. V motions for me to move along and I do, but the second I step underneath the scaffolding it starts to collapse. V manages to grab my hand and pull me to safety but behind me there are people crushed under a huge pile of metal and wood.

Despite the strange dreams, I haven't had any traumatic experiences to speak of lately. I enjoyed a very relaxing Bank Holiday weekend with my parents in Southend. They live 5 minutes walk from the seafront and it was beautiful sunny weekend. I even went for a 5k training run on Sunday :) Dedicated old me.

Tonight I am off to see Kevin Spacey at the Old Vic in The Philadelphia Story. Let's hope there are no aliens, stuffed animals or tube trains in this play else I'm in trouble again tonight...

stupidity

It's a thoughtful Monday morning for me today.
I'm reading the news and wondering about the folly of showing solidarity without thinking.

Subject in question: Gate Gourmet
Staff protests about low pay, holds an impromptu strike, 670 staff gets sacked. Gate Gourmet staff makes even more noise. BA staff then decides to hold a sympathy strike causing BA such grief that they don't want to work with Gate Gourmet any more.
Result? The possibility of Gate Gourmet going into administration. Woohoo, then *everyone* loses jobs. Bravo.

Common sense for breakfast anyone?

Night Prayer

Thankyou, to no one in particular
for these happy days, and happy nights
A gentle light casts small shadows in the darker corners of my soul
As I lay back and gaze upon the moon I admire the simplicity of
it's offerings.
In the face of it's incandescence I am reminded of a different era
Yet unable to fathom the feelings it provokes
From sunrise to moonrise I have amnesia
and longer still sometimes.
Thank you, whoever, for the moon and all it represents
May it watch over me always throughout.

run rabbit run

Yesterday I went temporarily insane and registered for this years Nike runlondon event. I have exactly 2 months to train myself to be able to run 10k - which in reality isn't all that much. Except that I haven't done any running since probably 1995. Oops :)

Official training sessions start next week, in the meantime I have to think seriously about solitary training and also perhaps joining a gym.

I've had people wondering why I've suddenly decided to do this. I guess I've been feeling somewhat unmotivated of late. I'm not unhappy but I'm the sort of person who hates to feel unchallenged and this time round I've decided on a physical challenge as opposed to the mental challenges I usually set myself.

The great thing about this is that the deadline is so close that I will be forced to take immediate action - there's no putting it off unless I want to fail miserably. And that's not something I'm likely to allow to happen..

happy birthday blog

Saturday was the 1st birthday of my blog.

By fate or by coincidence, on Saturday I was in an internet cafe in Edinburgh called Dreamcatcher. How strange it would have been, if I had updated my blog on that day in an internet cafe of the same name :)

I am so so tired today. It's been a fantastic but exhausting weekend. The grand finale of my excursion to Edinburgh meant going to bed at 2am only to have to get up at 4am to be able to get to the airport to come back to London and straight into work. I am now operating on backup energy supplies with copious topups of tea. If I drank coffee, I'd probably be on triple espressos.
Still, I only have to survive for another 3 hours and then I can go home to sleep - only my dad is celebrating his birthday today so perhaps bed is further away than I could hope for..

The last three days in Edinburgh have been a blur of walking, drinking and sitting still in various venues trying to broaden my mind on different levels. It was my first experience of the Edinburgh Fringe.
To those who may not know what this is, it is a month long festival held annually in Edinburgh where actors, artists, musicians, comedians, dancers all gather to present their work to the eager public. It's a remarkable event. There are hundreds of shows to choose from, and not enough time in the day to see it all. Promoters roam through the streets in groups, handing out flyers to would-be audience members. "Come and see our show, it's fabulous." Sometimes the cast themselves will do the handing out - "Come and see my show, I'm biased but it's great!" The end of each day turns almost into a ritual of emptying out your bags and pockets of flyers and postcards. There is a lot of drinking. Drinking whilst waiting for the show (goes hand in hand with the queuing), drinking after the show (opportunities to chat about what you've just seen), drinking in between shows (flicking through different programmes and flyers trying to choose new shows to see). Pubs must do a roaring trade this time of year. The whole thing has a studenty feel to it.

In 3 days, I went to see 10 shows and one graveyard tour at the witching hour. Due to my amazing scheduling skills, I managed to fit everything in with time spare for eating and even some sleeping. Highlights:

- Star Wars in 30 minutes: Brilliant rehash of the original trilogy with the most inventive use of props I have seen since the days of Whose Line is it Anyway?
- Gamarjobat A Shut Up Comedy From Japan: Two hilarious japanese mime artists
- La Clique: Unforgettable 'circus' with amazing performers including a male bellydancer who was totally awesome
- Ladyboys of Bangkok: A fantastic cabaret of some totally hot and some totally not thai ladyboys in various tiny outfits strutting their stuff.
- Pupptry of the Penis: Penis origami. Ouch.

*grumble*

Parents can cause such mixed feelings, often ones that change very rapidly.

phase one - disbelief

"So whenever I try and do a search on X Stockbrokers, it always comes back Egg..."
"I don't believe you Mum."

phase two - discomfort

"Oh my god look at your face! Haven't you been moisturing? Your skin looks terrible. You're only 26, not 30."
"Go away mum. No I haven't been moisturising. It's bad, yes."

phase three - nostalgic

I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth before my dad hogs the bathroom. Mum is still in there.
"Come here and sit down. I'm going to wash your face for you. It looks terrible."
I sit down and allow myself to have expensive japanese cleanser rubbed on my face. The downside is that I have to listen to her preaching about looking after my skin. The upside is that it's quite comforting, it kind of reminds me of being a little girl again, sitting on the edge of the bath having my face scrubbed. Mum holds my hair back as she commands me to rinse. Then as I'm brushing my teeth she disappears off to find the toner which she insists on rubbing on as well. I feel a little bemused.

phase four - dejection

As she walks away, job done ("Don't forget to put moisturiser on!") she also mutters on about the state of my complexion. "Looks like your face is going mouldy"

phase five - paranoia

Now totally paranoid about my mouldy face.

dog daze

Location: On the step of my bedroom doorway
Time: 08:41 this morning

Having totally forgotten to reset the alarm or press the snooze button this morning, I fell back asleep after my alarm went off and drifted into a deep sleep.

Dream:

It's Christmas day. I have just walked into the shower. Mid-shower my brother hammers on the door - "Sis, sis, look at this!"
I open the door. My brother stands there with a bag of berries. "These taste sooo amazing! Try some!". I take the berries and close the door. The shower is still running so I pour the contents of the bag into the bath to wash the berries. I examine them, there are different varieties there and they all look quite unusual. The big red ones in particular look like a strange cross between a raspberry and blackberry. I sample some and my brother is right - they are delicious. I go back to having my shower and am interrupted again by someone banging on the door. It's my mum this time and she wants the berries so I scoop all the berries into the bucket she gives me.

Some time later I wander into the kitchen. My parents are preparing to cook christmas dinner and my mum tells me that we have something good this year.. "This is what I have bought for dinner this year" she tells me. A big white chicken, rather plump looking. And a small white dog. It's adorable. A small puppy that looked a bit like a walking piece of carpet. I watched it moving around, sniffing at people's ankles.

Cut scene to a dining area that I don't recognise. My mum is sitting at a small square table with a checkered tablecloth with 2 english men that I have never seen before. She is talking animatedly to them and pouring wine. I'm wondering who they are. I'm wondering if they are strangers off the street that she has invited for lunch.

Walking back towards to kitchen, I spot the little dog. I pick it up and give it a cuddle. With the sudden realisation that my parents were planning on serving this cute thing on a plate, I start crying and pleading for my mum to leave the dog alone and cook the chicken instead. I wake up from my dream..

Reality:

Sitting in the doorway waiting for J my housemate to brush his teeth so I can have a shower. I tell him about the dog dream.
"That's what happens when you go to bed early."

1:0 me vs the moths

There is some kind of weird moth infestation in my house. On Monday I came home to find 7-8 moths fluttering around in my room. It didn't take that long for them to start annoying me, and despite the risk of moth murder karma, I splatted them all. Yesterday I flattened 3 more, and this morning I murdered one with body spray. Incidentally, that is a bad thing to do as it makes them all sticky and impossible to remove from the wall.

Do I feel bad? Yes I do. However, they should learn to stay out of peoples way. The way that they flap around in random directions and eat my clothes drives me crazy. I can sit at my pc and see them out of the corner of my eye. Ugh.

Course the simple solution could be to arm my room with mothballs. Except I *hate* the smell of mothballs. (Doesn't everybody?) Argh what a dilemma!!

man overboard

Another night another leaving drinks. No champagne hangover this time, but I think it could have been.
Most surreal moment of the night? A well-respected colleague asking me if it was difficult to lay eggs. Apparently, the optimum scenario in which to lay eggs is to do a crossover hairflick and make sure that you are wearing a top that doesn't quite reach your the top of your trousers. Much as I tried last night, no matter what sort of hair flicking I did, I didn't manage to lay any eggs. Luckily for me, my colleague then moved onto a different victim and started harassing him about rings on fingers and thumbs. I escaped to the bar for a champagne top-up ;)

Tonight it all starts again. Different colleague leaving, different bar. Sometimes I get this strange sinking ship feeling...

realities of my subconscious

I've been having these fleeting dreams recently where things keep changing when I'm not there. Usually it has something to do with my mum. For instance, last night, I dreamt that all the books that I had dumped downstairs in the projector room on the floor had suddenly all been boxed up. I say fleeting in my earlier observation because I usually don't remember these fragments of my dream without a trigger - in this case, when I was downstairs ironing a shirt this morning. The books were still there where I left them, and I felt momentarily bewildered at this reality.
This isn't misrepresentative behaviour from my mum, she definitely has a habit of making changes in my life without warning. Once I came home one weekend from university to find that she had ripped the entire front of the house down and replaced it with a new one.

I wonder about the meaning behind these dreams. Whether it has something to do with the changes going on in my life, or whether it indicates my preoccupation with things that are out of my control. I am a self-confessed control freak when it comes to my own life. It probably explains the friction between me and my mum as she is a control freak too except she likes to control the lives of others...

pessimisme

Sometimes I feel so vulnerable. Life is so fragile, so unpredictable. What does it take to preserve the sanctity of our existence?

From fiction to reality, the harshness of the world terrifies me sometimes. From the threat of bombs on the public transport, to police shootings of innocent civilians. Not only do I have reason to fear those who terrorise, but I now have cause to fear those who are supposed to be there to protect us. I was born lucky. I look pretty harmless. But for those who weren't born that way? They have to be even more careful not to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

On Saturday night I watched lilja-4-ever. I never want to see that film again. It shocked and horrified me to the core - I couldn't control my emotions after seeing that film. It made me feel so vulnerable. The film is about a young girl and how she is forced into prostitution because of the awful circumstances of her life. She is exploited at every turn and by almost everyone she meets. It made my blood run cold to see the abuse that a girl can go through, by men who see women as nothing more than a sexual object with no feelings. I was born lucky. I have been sheltered and looked after all my life. But there are girls out there for who this film is a reality and my heart goes out to them. When the credits started rolling my tears ran unchecked and I felt some hatred towards men and their power over women.

I've just read on imdb that this film is based on a real person. That makes it even worse.

So I feel that sometimes looking harmless is a mixed blessing. To the good, it helps you to integrate. To the bad, it is a weakness to be exploited.
In November I am thinking of going to Thailand. I may be there alone for a while. In the back of my mind there is a small niggling concern for my own safety. Do I think that I can't take of myself? No. But for a young female to be alone in a faraway foreign country that isn't very rich, well, that's a different matter. What's the worse that can happen? It doesn't bear thinking about.

umu

oh wow oh wow. I have these beautiful hazy memories of last night - the most amazing meal I have ever had. Food so divine that I wish I could have taken a picture of every bite.

Not having seen my ex for probably a month at least, I thought it would be good to get together to celebrate his imminent entry into the world of Finance IT. As a surprise, I booked a table at Umu, the first Kyoto kaiseki restaurant in London. I had already checked out the prices, and winced a little but when you're going to celebrate, you've got to do it properly.
I wasn't disappointed.

kaiseki is a special art-form of cooking in Japan where everything from the season, to the colours of the plates is considered and presented to perfection. For this reason it's quite costly to have it, even in Japan. In Kyoto you can order it in a traditional japanese inn (ryokan) and enjoy it in the peace and tranquility of your own room.

First course was a wonderfully presented green tea tofu. The waitress explained every single dish to us, the ingredients and the seasonings. I don't really like tofu but this was pretty amazing. Delicate and with the perfect texture. The second course was probably my favourite - oyster tempura. I have never ever eaten oysters as perfect as these two. They melted in the mouth like butter and if the chef could have seen my expression, he would probably have felt rather smug. Of course, by the 7th course, with my small appetite every plate become my mortal enemy and it was all I could do to try and do justice to the effort that had gone into everything. In between all this, the waitress kept us constantly topped up with the £50 a bottle vintage sake that we had ordered. Needless to say, we staggered a little after the meal to make our way home, stomachs full and wallet feeling almost £400 lighter. Was it worth it? Oh yes. I'll be back one day - to try the wagyu beef.

As an aside, I thought that it was going to be awkward to spend an evening with my ex. He has a new girlfriend now and seems happy enough. And I'm happy for him. After the time spent apart doing separate things, we've both returned to our usual selves. There is no bitterness or awkwardness, just an easy friendship.
This makes me happy.

a familiar feeling

And so the panic starts again.

As I came back from lunch with an old friend of mine, I felt a feeling of deja vu as I saw a whole load of people crowded around the TV. Incidents reported of 3 tube stations closed, followed by an incident on a bus not far from where I work. A nail bomb on the underground. Bus explosion. It's all strangely familiar, and yet again on a Thursday! Maybe I should stay at home on Thursdays.

It's still early. They've only closed down 2 lines on the underground so far. Who knows what will happen next?

in the midst of chaos

It's a strange and chaotic day in London today. Having been out late last night, I dawdled in getting ready this morning and didn't leave the house until 9am. When I got to the station, I was a little disgruntled to see a security alert had shut down Liverpool Street and Bank which meant that I had to get a mainline train into work today.

It wasn't until I got into the lift at the office that I realised that something was happening. I overheard someone talking about a bomb going off outside. Alarmed, I hurried into the office to find everyone watching the news. About 5 minutes later, the whole of the London Underground had been shut down. For some reason, the news networks were blaming so-called power-surges for explosions going round the city but they couldn't explain the bus explosions that way....
The mobile phone networks have been swamped all morning, I have had calls and messages from people who I don't usually hear from, who have all been watching the news unfold with some alarm. In the office, everyone permanently has the bbc news website open and TVs have been turned up so that we can all listen to what is happening. We have had corporate messages over the tannoy telling us to remain in the building and the security downstairs is the tightest I have ever seen in two years here. The streets outside are quiet, there are no buses and hardly any people. It's pretty much business as usual though, what is there to do though apart from carry on as normal?

It's strange though, how life can deal unexpected events like this. I slept peacefully last night, little did I know that today was going to be like this. It gives you a new perspective on the way you should live your life. Anything could have happened this morning - any small shift in events could have meant that I may have never made it safely into the office. I'm glad I did :)

I was supposed to go to an Amy Winehouse concert tonight at the Tower of London. Think I might be giving that a miss. Especially since my friend has the tickets and he can't get into London...

thinking out loud

I sit here at my pc trying to reflect on the thoughts going around my head. I should be in bed, I only got about 4 hours sleep last night as my flight home from Barcelona was delayed and I got home at 4am. The only real reason I am still up is because my mum insisted I drink some of her special chinese soup (which is delicious incidentally).

I feel kind of fragile right now. I have an appointment at the hospital this weekend for a fairly standard scan. I'm petrified. I have a strange phobia about hospitals. Earlier this year, my ex had a hernia operation and I went with him to the hospital. I wasn't even the patient yet I was gripped by an irrational panic. I've always had this. It doesn't matter who I am visiting, or the occasion, I hate hospitals.

I guess that's not the only reason I feel fragile. I feel vulnerable. My usual shroud of protection is weak, and I feel open to being hurt by the people I care about. It's strange that my friends and even family perceive me to be such a strong person when I feel like the complete opposite. Perhaps I should be an actress. But they deserve more than that. I am not blind to those who care about me, I hear loud and clear the offers of wisdom and support, yet I hold on to my inner hurt with a vice-like grip as if to seek some kind of solace from the pain. My self-torment is not quite over but the time limit has long since been up. What do I need to let go?
Happiness is well within my grasp. I have tasted it's sweetness, revelled in it's euphoria-inducing vapours, basked in it's gentle warmth. I have found my energy, my muse, my voice of reason.

Like the waves of the mediterrean washing up upon the shores of Barcelona, it passes. My sadness. Tranquility restored once more. Time passes and with it, the balance of the scales will tip as I knew they would. The pendulum finds it's rightful place. My smile stays.

note to self

I feel so tired this morning. Up until quite late last night trying to practise sudoku ready for my regional heat in the Independent Grand Championship, I had to come into the office
for 7am so I can leave early this afternoon. Talk about glutton for punishment.

As I sit here nursing my tea and croissant, I ponder about the recent events in my life. Seems like no matter how much I plan to try and relax, somehow it never works out.
Last week I had an amazingly busy week as usual. I was off work for 4 days learning Java, on Wednesday I had an awesome night watching Royksopp play at Koko. On the weekend I went to a 3 hour bellydancing workshop at which I tweaked and gyrated muscles that normally don't move :)
This weekend I am off to a hopefully sunny Barcelona for shoes and sangria :P
I'm thinking about a book that I bought some months ago called In Praise of Slow It's about how people shouldn't rush around so much and live life at a slightly slower place. Pity I don't have time to read it :)

Despite all this activity I feel restless. It's all very well having fun but there is still something missing. Challenge. Not gentle stimulus like japanese logic puzzles, or physical challenges like belly dancing, but a fierce mental challenge to awaken the ambition and drive I know to exist within myself. Just need to figure out what it should be...

emergence

Basking in the morning sun feeling thoughtful. Critical bites of a newly sliced lemon meringue pie, hmm not quite enough meringue perhaps.

I don't feel confused as such, but there are many unanswered questions in my head. Yet I do not feel that I should ask them, for to do so would be like shaking up a snowglobe when all the flakes had settled. Who am I to to disturb the tranquility of the scene? Instead, I should concentrate on improving the picture. There is much potential.

On the way to work I contemplate the fragments left behind, echoes of a former self. I set a challenge to emerge as a butterfly.

Todays Tip for achieving contentment

It's quite amazing just how many hours you can spend poring over your cd collection, realising just how long it's been since you last heard x track, deciding to rejuvenate that album by ripping it to mp3 and adding it to your iTunes playlist.
I'm currently in full multitask mode - writing my blog entry, ripping the matrix ost, listening to the Fight Club ost and fine tuning my iTunes playlist ready for a re-sync.
My PC isn't particularly happy - diagnostics are showing the cpu is overheating a little - 52 degrees (oops)

Had a very weird paranoid moment today - it's a little out of character as I'm usually pretty calm and laidback. I was walking out of a shop and suddenly felt very conscious of my ankles. It's hard to describe but I had an irrational fear that my ankles were about to be separated from my legs by invisible cheesewire across the doorway. It only lasted for a moment - as soon as I stepped out of the shop it went away and I wondered why I was thinking about that. It's something that I've had before and I think that it stems back from my schooldays. We used to have to do a 3 mile cross country course every year through these woods near our school - every year people spread rumours about pranksters stretching tripwires across the trees and I used to worry a little about it. Odd that now, some 10 years later I still have disturbing thoughts about it.

Wow. Amazing how a song can bring back such strong memories. Clubbed to Death - I haven't listened to this for nearly 5 years. The last time I did I was sitting on the District Line going back home. It invokes incredibly strong memories, memories that I wanted to quash forever. Feelings of remorse, love, regret, sadness and fragility. It's a beautiful song, one of few that I can play over and over without getting tired of it. The composition is perfect. The melodies of the violins and piano haunt my soul. Who needs words?

if jim could fix it

It doesn't take that much to make me happy. I'm not particularly into fast cars and a glamourous lifestyle. Whilst feeling low and unhappy tonight, I considered what it would take to pull me out of my despondency.

I would love to hire out a massive concert hall. Take out all the seating and fix a hammock in the middle of the hall. I'd hire Bond to come and play for me whilst I lie in the hammock and engulf myself in the music. The sound of string instruments makes my heart tremor when played in the right way. My first request would be Strange Paradise. Followed by Big Love Adagio.
I guess in reality the music could be anything, I can think of some great tracks that would sound amazing echoing round a big room:

• Higher Place by royksopp
  
• Kiseki no umi from the anime Record of Lodoss Wars
  
• Duvet (remix) by boa from anime Serial Experiments Lain
  
• Yellow by Coldplay
  
• Ain't No Sunshine by Bill Withers
  
• Sadness by Enigma
  

And of course, my favourite classical piece of all time probably:- Air on the G String.

Now that I think about it, I'd forgo the concert hall for an empty stone castle. I'd love the music to be bouncing off the stone walls, everywhere I went. How amazing would that be. I'd love this castle to be high up with a view of the sea. The music would be floating out into the wind as I perch on a bay window looking out over the horizon. Just me, the breeze, the view and the music. Heaven.

Guestblog

Today's Guestblogger is: Howard my Aeron chair.

Howard says:

"Life as an aeron chair is a mixed bag. I'm generally happy with my lot but there are days when I wish that I could trade places with the confidential paper bin, or perhaps the emergency exit sign. It's nice to have your own place. Some days I find myself all over the place, it's really quite unnerving and disorienting.

Still, I can't complain too much. There are definitely those worse off than me. At least my current occupant is lightweighted and not too abusive. Adam the aeron chair behind me is not quite so lucky. His occupant throws him around, wears out his fibres from the weight strain and can emit the most noxious vapours. The only thing I can really complain about is the fact that I have to stoop all the time as my occupant has incredibly short legs.

The greatest thing about being an aeron chair (aside from the obvious fact that aeron chairs are like the Rolls Royce of office chairs) is that in this office, people are very protective of their aeron chair. There is a breed of inferior 'standard' office chair that are widely scorned, particularly by IT staff. Having been stationed next to Stacy (a fine specimen of the standard blue office chair) for the last couple of months, I have heard countless stories of chair-trading and chair neglect. Urban legends are rife. For instance, apparently one chair was so badly tormented by being left out in the atrium (meeting rooms populated by lush leather seats) he self-mutilated himself with staples and scissors and eventually committed chair suicide by stationing himself in a particular senior manager's office. Every hinge and screw was warped beyond repair afterwards..

Anyhow, there are fine times to be had yet - especially as Stacy has recently moved on and been replaced by Lucinda, a total temptress of an aeron. I can see some interesting nights coming on..."

pi

It's pie day.

Last night I made my first ever pie. A beautiful lemon meringue pie, with a perfectly crisp meringue top and a fresh lemony filling. It took me about 2 hours - and at 11pm we had a taste test.
My mum's favourite dessert, she gave it a thumbs up. My dad made no comment though his slice disappeared quickly enough. Mrs L declared it fattening but had a slice anyway. I had seconds :)

Today is Chicken Pot Pie day at EAT . This is probably my favourite soup, ever. Creamy chicken soup with a puff pastry top it really hits the spot, especially on a cold rainy day like this.

Whilst my brain is indulging in pie-involving flights of fancy, I am idly browsing the web for pie recipes. Next on my list: Banoffee Pie.
I am a total dessert fiend and both lemon meringue and banoffee pie are high on my list of favourite desserts. My current favourite place for banoffee pie is a restaurant called Sweet Basil. The food is great, but dessert is pure heaven.

viperx is probably chewing at the bit waiting for my list so here it is - my top 10 desserts :)

1. Chocolate Bento Box at Ubon (sister of Nobu)


2. Banoffee Pie at Sweet Basil


3. Trufa de Chocolate con Helado de Vainilla at La Tasca


4. Banoffee Pie pot from EAT


5. Home-made green tea icecream


6. Vanilla Fudge Brownie icecream from Haagen-Dazs


7. Chocolate Profiteroles


8. Fruit Crumble with custard


9. Raspberry cheesecake


10. Bananas and custard. With chocolate. And maybe some raspberries. And possibly some cake/crumble over the top. mmmmmmmmmmmm

Maintenant, EAT here I come.

green tea haziness

It's been a little while since I experienced 8am in the office. It's rather pleasant. I can eat my breakfast in peace - the noisy guy sitting behind me isn't in yet. (why is it that there is ALWAYS some noisy person with an annoying voice behind me?)

I am sitting here sipping my free twinings green tea. It smells and tastes of apples and pears. So content right now, I could want for nothing more. Watching people filter into work, I feel peaceful. Bring it on.

warning to backseat drivers

Some people seem to live their lives like a game of chess. There is always an opponent and all moves must be countered. Newsflash: your opponent may not be playing in the same game as you.

I am rubbish at chess. That's not to say that I don't have the potential - I have all the right skills for it. I just don't care for the game much. Why? Because although I am a competitive person, I'm not much for games that involve annihilation/total takeover of the other players. Games where there is only one winner.

Despite my ineptitude at the game, this does not mean that
a) I appreciate other people watching my game and criticising my moves
b) People forcing me to play
c) People telling me how to play and how to win
d) People telling me what will happen if I make a wrong move

I prefer to learn my own way thankyou.

precipitation is wet

My head is full of dreams and destiny today. The little things that happen from day to day, it's not until you stop to analyse the unfolding of events when you begin to wonder whether there is such a thing as fate.

I left the house for work at a normal sort of time this morning, and usually when I get to the station I will buy a copy of the Independent. (mainly because they publish 4 sudokus a day). This morning, the papers were late and I had to either go without or buy an alternative paper. I declined, thinking that I could buy it when I got to Liverpool Street. As I got onto the tube train, I reached down to scratch an itch on my knee and discovered a gigantic hole in my tights. In my mind I was annoyed, thinking 'what's going to go wrong next! everything usually happens in threes'.

Arrival at Liverpool Street station. I made a stop at Boots to buy a new pair of tights, suddenly remembered that I had run out of antihistamines and bought 2 packets. I then popped to WHSmith to buy the paper and as a result ended up exiting the station via a different route to my usual routine. As it happened, guys were handing out free tea at this exit which totally made my day. (I am obsessed with freebies) On the way up to the office, my eyes and nose immediately started itching and I was so relieved that I had ended up in Boots to get those allergy tablets.

None of these little events mean that much on a grand scale, but it's interesting to think about how my morning may have started had I not discovered a hole in my tights. Speaking of which, I am absolutely positive it wasn't there when I put them on this morning.
I've also just noticed that on the free cup I got it says this: "Blended to make every day a little better" :)

Now moving onto omens. The play that I saw on Sunday was about dreams, destiny and omens.
The story itself is a bit of a yarn, but it can be inspiring if you open your mind to it. It's about a spanish shepherd boy called Santiago who has recurring dreams of finding treasure at the Egyptian Pyramids. On his epic journey to Africa and across the desert towards this distant goal, he finds contentment, money, and love. Each time he has an opportunity to compromise on his dream and settle for something that he is happy with but he persists. At one part of his journey he loses everything. He learns from this, and in the end it forms part of his success - he reaches the pyramids. Does he find treasure there? No. There is no treasure there, only knowledge. In this story, getting to the pyramids was crucial to finding out where the treasure was really hidden - back in a place where he started.

A cynic would see the irony in this and interpret that as most journeys rarely need to be undertaken as the best place is where you are. I disagree with this. The stark message I got from this was that in order to discover the truth about what you really want, you have to follow your dream to the very end, whatever sacrifices and losses you may have to endure. Life will throw all sorts of obstacles in your way to test your determination to achieve your dream. How much do you really want it? What is it that you really want?

I can draw parallels to this in my life. By pure chance I bought this book. It wasn't recommended to me and I had never heard of it before in my life. I was in a bookshop with a friend looking for something else. I spotted it on the shelf, picked it up and for some reason decided to buy it. I read it and realised that the only thing stopping me from doing what I really wanted was me. I took the first step to changing this.

Months later, life has thrown all sorts of complications at me. At work I am doing better than ever, I have the promise of success, financial reward and security. In love, I have similar choices. Questions I ask myself:- do I want more? what will I give up to get that?

I could say that the re-emergence of this story in itself is an omen. I only found out about it because someone else told me it was playing. In a tiny theatre outside of where I usually hang out, I let myself be entertained by the pantomime presentation of this story that gave me so much to think about.
Perhaps it's time to take the second step.

wrong side of your bed

I am wondering this morning if I should have bothered to get out of bed this morning. For once, I am not feeling like a miserable bitch on a Monday morning, but I couldn't say the same for certain individuals around me. I feel a little tired today of trying to reach the expectations of others. Tired of being told that I'm not trying hard enough, of being criticised for my 'appalling' behaviour, of being told that I'm not listening. I don't want to agree to demands from other people, reasonable or no. For a while I just want to coast and experience the freedom of being a free spirit.

I find it quite incredible that all my life people accuse me of not being considerate of other people's feelings when in actual fact most of my problems in life have come about by being too considerate of too many peoples feelings. My indecisiveness, guilt and frustration are born from this habit.

On days like this I feel like shutting everything and everyone out. I can't do it though - I care too much.

brief pause for breath

It's been a busy old week. Somehow I've managed to fit the following into 6 days:

- seeing Sin City (Beautifully made film, great action and lots of fantastic gory violence)
- treated to seeing Derren Brown live (mind-boggling tricks from the jedi master himself - it was very cool and mystifying)
- accidentally stumbling across a wonderful and sexy belly dancer in Bar Marrakesh who has totally inspired me for my class on the 26th June. wow wow wow - I want to be a belly dancer! (though I don't know why it's called bellydancing as it looks more like ass-shaking to me)
- Spending a whole day under constant scrutiny of an observer whilst taking part in team building events such as building paper houses.
- watching a stage production of Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist. I enjoyed this - though it was a lot like a pantomime. Still, the actors were very enthusiastic and captured the main elements of the story.

Yesterday I think I saw Air Force One. It was a strange moment, whilst walking towards the Tube station I suddenly saw a huge jet overhead flying frighteningly low (I don't really live anywhere near an airport). It passed overhead. I carried on walking.
A minute later I stopped in my tracks as I saw another large plane flanked by 2 small planes (that can only be described as military planes) on either side. My jaw dropped even further when this was followed by yet another large plane flanked by 2 smaller military planes. I must have seen at least 13 planes all in all including the initial jumbo. I have to admit that it made me nervous.... I wonder what they were?

blue notes

For the first time in weeks I am alone to cry. The tight knot of pain that I feel inside reflects on my face - my tears leave stinging streaks as they roll unattended.

The solitude is welcome right now. No one to justify my sorrow to. No questions, no answers, no arguments.
I cry for beautiful memories of days gone past, I cry for the things that I miss and no longer have, I cry from the self remorse that I feel and for the guilt of hurting people that I care so much about. I cry for wielding responsibility of creating change, for feeling happiness when I should least deserve it. I cry because
life isn't as simple as the fairytales suggest, because Happy Ever After doesn't always happen.

I feel so tired.

spacefiller

It's quite interesting to observe the mini revolutions in our lives. It's not been a good day so far in my little world, I left the house a little later than usual, decided halfway down the road that I was NOT going to wear my glasses today as they were making me dizzy and went back home to put my contact lenses in. The moment I stepped on the train, the driver announced that there had been a passenger taken ill at Liverpool Street station and that we were not going to be moving any time soon. By the time we started moving the driver then announced that we were not going to be stopping at Liverpool Street station at all (my stop) so I had to go to the next stop and come back the other way.

So I got to work pretty late. I have a lot of work to do - inevitably, today had to be the day where our NFS server started playing up (died) and I am unable to do any development. Luckily for me, I remembered to buy a paper this morning and so have at my disposal a whole 4 sudokus to complete :)

This is what I mean about the mini revolutions. When my colleague introduced me to these addictive puzzles a few weeks ago, little did I know how much they would be absorbed into my life. Whilst I am sitting at work waiting for a build or taking a short break from staring at code, I pass a little time doing a puzzle. I have no idea what I used to do with these gaps. Just like I cannot remember how I ever managed without a mobile phone. Without it, I almost feel naked. Vulnerable and disconnected.

Anyway, back to my sudoku :)

terminus

Sometimes I hate living and working in the UK.
Here I am sitting at my desk at work on the first day of June with my COAT on. Outside it is overcast, raining and cold. All I want to do is to go home, have a steaming hot bath (at least 45 degrees) and crawl into bed with my trusty iPod and book. Jesus, it's supposed to be summer!
Mind you it probably doesn't help that I've just come back from a long weekend in Budapest where it was very hot and sunny.

I found Budapest to be a very accessible and affordable place to visit. The Hungarians speak English very well and are quite friendly people. The food is good (particularly if you're into goulash hehe), the wine is nice and the beer cheap.
Highlights of my trip:

• Stumbling into scary dodgy goth club next to our hostel at 1.30am when we got into Budapest [great start]


• Going on a bar crawl led by an ex male porn star with an attitude. We left at 8pm and got back to the pension at around 4am. Drank with the locals in some bars that I'll probably never be able to find again, met some very cool and interesting people and had my belief system interrogated by a strange american who totally took advantage of the fact that I was somewhat inebriated. Was pulled off the path to insanity by friends.


• Visiting City Park on Sunday. I have never in my life been to any park where every Sunday is party day. All day long the park is crowded with people, bouncy castles, live music, hundreds of stalls selling shoes (?), junk, food and drink. It was more like a theme park...


• Relaxing at the thermal baths in City Park. On a beautifully hot day, splashing in the outdoor baths was a lot of fun. Inside, I relaxed in the hot pools and sauna although the hottest bath at 38 degrees was nowhere near sufficient for me. Bring on the hotsprings in Japan anyday...


• Crossing the many bridges spanning the not-very-blue River Danube humming the wellknown song. Next stop Austria for a full rendition of the Sound of Music up in the hills :)


• Hiking up the Gellert Hill in Buda for a fantastic view of Budapest. Wondered where the Matthias Church was, only to realise we were on the wrong hill. doh!

Overall I found Budapest to be a lovely place to go and relax. It's very similar to Prague, with it's faded majesty but the atmosphere is more subdued. Perhaps this was due to the season. Much like Prague, to get the most of this city you have to stay away from the touristy centres, from the big designer shops and cafes and the brochure churches and buildings.

It's been a whirlwind of a fortnight. I'm glad that it's all over and my calendar looks a more bearable sight with lots of empty spaces which means that I can relax. No point in cramming so much into your own life that you can barely keep up with what's happening. I've missed weeks of Desperate Housewives, have been but a mere shadow on MSN and my bedroom has nearly been taken over by plastic carrier bags (late night Thursday shopping). Oops.

woman in black

I went last night to see a play in the West End called The Woman In Black. This is a play based on a book, and it was made into a film back in 1989.

I had no idea what the play was about before going to see it, though I had heard that it was supposed to be good and also scary.
Intrigued at the idea of being scared by a stage production, I waited in anticipation. And nearly fell asleep in the first 20 minutes.
I can't fault the acting, nor can I really fault the screenplay, I think they did quite a good job of it considering. Perhaps I just have high standards for scary stories... Needless to say I was somewhat bemused by the enthusiastic screaming coming from the rest of the audience throughout though there were some very effectively spinechilling moments in the play. One scene that I quite liked was this door that had been locked with no handle or bolts - after a ghostly scream in the dark the lights came back on and a handle had mysteriously appeared on the door... The main character hears an odd sound coming from upstairs so he goes through the door and upstairs to see a rocking chair rocking manically by itself. Very nice. In the end though, I was paralysed with fear in my seat throughout the play, but this was due to the fact that I had a seat in the gods, and it was a long long way down to the stage... I managed to scare myself half to death imagining scenarios in which I fell down the aisle and off the balcony..

Still. I went to bed at about midnight after a dose of Desperate Housewives to be suddenly awoken by a very loud creak in the bedroom. I half expected to see a woman with a white face staring at me when I opened my eyes :)

another night in the zoo

I drifted in and out of dreams this morning, mostly due to the fact that I set too many alarms to wake me up.
One dream was pure fantasy, my hero Neil Gaiman all damp from the shower talking about this dvd that we'd just watched. :)

The last one I had just before I got out of bed was almost a nightmare. I dreamt that a young elephant was on the rampage in the garden and we were all running away trying to avoid its charge. I can clearly remember the fear and adrenalin of having it right behind me. I managed to get inside the house and for some reason was climbing out of a bedroom window when my mum and brother appeared. They told me that they'd managed to catch the elephant - I glanced over at where they were pointing and sure enough, they had managed to tie it up. In bubble wrap.

The interesting thing about this dream (aside from the strangeness of seeing an elephant wrapped in plastic) was the new experience of semi-conscious thought. Usually in my dreams, most thoughts in dream-state are raw emotions - happy ,sad, scared, angry, that sort of thing. This time my thoughts were actually analytical, as if I was interpreting my dream whilst dreaming. I remember thinking, when my mum told me that they'd caught the elephant, that they had managed to achieve what I could not. That instead of confronting my fears I had run away from it.

It put me in a strange mood this morning.

life countdown

I am feeling a little thoughtful about life choices today.
We all live our lives and make so many decisions along the way. I wonder how much difference it would really make if we each had a death clock and knew the exact moment of our deaths?

You'd expect everyone to live their lives completely differently, to make the most of the time that they have. But I'm not so sure. Would the ideals of society change? Would most of us still grow up thinking that the logical progression in life is to get our qualifications, find a job, find a partner, get married and have kids? Would kids even be fashionable then? If we knew that we had 55 years to live, who on earth would want to spend 15 years of it studying, 30 years working and a good 18+ years of that trying to be a good parent? On the other hand, do the majority of people have the capacity to choose otherwise?

One thing is for sure, the world of insurance would be quite complicated. And there would also be a lot of depressed people out there. I think I'd train to be a psychiatrist :)

Me: "So, how do you feel today?"
Patient: "Pretty awful. I only have 45 years, 8 months, 4 days, 7 hours, 25 minutes and 32 seconds to live. And my wife totally wasted the weekend by forcing me to visit her parents. I lost two days of my life talking about potted plants!"
Me: "Well, what would you rather have spent your two days doing?"
Patient: "Um, well, I guess it would have been nice to do something a bit more worthwhile. New life experiences, that sort of thing."
Me: "How about bungee jumping? Or skydiving?"
Patient: "I'm afraid of heights."
Me: "Diving then?"
Patient: "I can't swim"
Me: "Learn to swim? It might save your life one day"
Patient: "What's the point? I know when I'm going to die. How is learning to swim going to help me?"
Me: "Er. Ok. How about volunteer work in Africa?"
Patient: "I already send them money."
Me: "That's not the point. You can enrich their lives."
Patient: "I only have 45 years to live. I should be enriching my own life."
Me: "Hmm. Well ok. How about trekking in Peru? Do the Inca trail."
Patient: "I'm scared of heights."
Me: "Go travelling for 6 months. Visit Australia, Asia, the Americas. Visit the low places."
Patient: "I'm scared of flying."
Me: "Why? You're not due to die for another 45 years yet...."

Hmmm. Just thought of another interesting slant. Old rich people would probably have a terrible time (or great, depending on your point of view) with young money whores who have somehow managed to find out their death days. Imagine the black market for bogus death clocks :)) The scope for exploitation would be massive!

Infinite possibilities

On Sunday I watched a really interesting episode of Nip/Tuck. It's not particularly relevant what happens, but one of the main characters has an operation, and whilst under anaesthetic dreams of an alternative reality in which she made a different choice at a pivotal moment in her past.

In the very near future, I shall no doubt be experiencing a pivotal moment in my life. Realism aside, here is how I think that reality will unfold:

I have a choice to make. Person A, Person B and the middle path, neither.
I choose the middle path. In an attempt to enjoy my newfound singlehood I sign up for Tango classes, go speed-dating, learn to snowboard and find a part-time job in a happening bar in the East End. One night a tall handsome stranger joins my Tango class and as our eyes and arms lock, we are both lost in the instantaneous chemistry that occurs. We go for a walk in nighttime London and he tells me that he is leaving the country in 2 weeks. It turns out that he owns a beach bar in Tanzania and he wants me to go back with him. I quit my job in Finance IT. 2 years later, our bar is the hippest place in the country and Tanzania has turned into such an amazing chillout destination that Easyjet starts offering cheap flights there. I publish my own book of cocktails. I get married on the Millenium Bridge in London. Gordon Ramsey caters my wedding reception. Every year on our wedding anniversary we fly out and watch the Northern Lights together. I have a little girl called Leanne who grows up to be a primadonna ballerina. I eventually die of a heart attack when my accountant tells me how much money I have spent on shoes over my life :)

Well, you never know.

summer complex

I've just remembered why I hate summer.

Just exited the ladies toilets at the office which was suddenly full of ladies getting dressed in tiny strappy backless tops. I don't have anything against them wearing skimpy tops - far from it - but the only worse feeling to feeling overdressed is feeling underdressed. I left the toilets thinking that I need to dye my hair blonde and buy a boob tube :)

the pendulum swings

Life can be so complicated sometimes. I woke up this morning with a harsh awareness of reality.

I am in love with two amazing guys who both have the ability to make me happy in lots of different ways. I don't know how to choose and I obviously can't have both.
The pendulum swings but never settles.

I sit between a rock and a hard place and ponder the possibilities and outcomes. It has taken me weeks to get to this place. I have travelled through guilt, self-pity, denial, anger, frustration, the works. Now the mist is clearing and I know that I must do something rather than wait for someone or something else to do it for me.

The initial problem was complex, there are lots of variables involved, peoples feelings, material matters, history, as well as my own personal baggage. Unable to cope, I have decided that the only thing that I can do is to break the problem down to the core. Everything else will have sort itself out in its own time.

At its most basic, the problem doesn't seem so difficult:- a choice must be made, and there are only 3 possible choices. Person A, Person B, or neither.
This sounds a little cold but I have to face the facts. The melodrama needs to stop. Of course, knowing this doesn't make things any easier but at least I can be true to myself what I must do.

Early this morning I wondered if I could just leave it to fate and toss a coin. 26 tosses, one for each year of my life. A draw means I choose neither. Dare I? :)

Whatever happens, one thing is clear: I must and will take all responsibility for my actions. I wish no hurt on anyone but I know that there are consequences whichever way I go.
I will have to live with them.


******************************

You
Every beat of my heart, everyday of my life
Every thought on my mind
Every second, every moment
You
Every still of the night, every romance goes right
Every dream I deny
Every second, every moment
You
Every beat of my heart, everyday of my life
Every thought on my mind
Every second, every moment
You
Every tear that I cry, every hope in my mind
Everything that I hide
Every second, every moment