Hot and Cold

My mum and my best friend met up last night. Bud had asked meekly if mum would want to see her, and I had thought with some trepidation about them meeting up, after all this time and especially given the nature of Bud's parents' feelings towards me and my mum. And I was envious- there in my sad city the two of them.
I spoke to mum today and she said it had been wonderful. Past midnight wonderful and she said in everything they spoke about, I was sewn into the threads. They're going to the theatre on Thursday. I am green.

Last night was Vagina Monologues, seeing it again reminded me of that night with Cathy and Sarah and they had been horrified.
Afterwards we went to that little mafioso Italian place behind Leicester square where Dale and I would go, trampling through the damp city, skint, with just enough to buy a take-away pizza and walk with it, in the wet night, stopping in glistening doorways to take bite after hot bite. Everything felt a little sharper then.

And Dale- he called me today, just to tell me that he has found a pub where every Friday they serve free champagne. Come and let's do them out of business. It's nice that he remembers to call me for frivolities.

I met my first deadline today, now I'm just working on Nissan and trying to keep my eyes open. My heart is tired and I can't wait for this weekend.
And look at all that London sunshine! Everywhere that summer is...

"Who invented the human heart, I wonder? Tell me, and then show me the place where he was hanged"

Whose life is it anyway?

It was a good night last night. I had, as I said before, oodles of work, but my mood was better. All this chasing perfection is tiring business. But then, look what happened to Virge in "Don't ask me why?" when her dreams ran out...
Anyway, Nikki and I had dinner at Strada with wine (how am I going to survive this remaining month?) and then more wine during the play. Kim Catrall was surprisingly good. I thought she overdid it sometimes, but I like her very much. The night with Nikki was priceless though. It surprises me how people like her drifted into my life by accident when I crashed into London and stayed.

I fell straight into bed and slept, but not enough and I'm tired and vague today.

The first lot of oodles is due tomorrow and then I need to finish Nissan by Tuesday, which means by the end of tomorrow because we're off for the weekend.

I had a good, if vague, lunch today with Tim. I bumped into him accidentally- both of us lumbering under the weight of fatigue and hangovers- and we went to the feral italian where i had avocado salad (food of the gods) and we talked about *stuff*. He always makes me feel a little bit closer to our end of the world, his attitude to everything is un-English. This leaving London bizzo is going to be difficult as well as exciting- all of a sudden I'm feeling jittery and tense- and it's another night out tonight. Remind me I don't handle red bull very well.

One more thing: I LOVE Lawrence Durrell...I need to tell Lord that.

before i go any further

yesterday was a shitty day. my mood crashed because of the night before and he didn't understand why etc etc. so I was cruel to him and he withdrew and I got a bit tipsy with Pip and by the time I got home to see G and Matt I was homesick and lonely and silly. I called Az and Dale and even my darling husband and complained.
It was incredibly good to talk to them all.

Then, after some more silence and almost-arguing, G and i sorted it all out. I mean we managed to talk about it properly and I told him my silly fears and he apologised for not saying anything. It might not be perfect anymore, but it's still the best relationship I've ever had.

I have oodles of work today...oodles

"...theatre this week"
"Yeah, but you're going to see the Vagina Monologues"
"And...?"
"Well, you might get lofty ideas about wanting orgasms or something.." (ha ha?)
"It would be nice to have them sometimes"

And then the mood died. He brought it up, I don't see why he got in a stinky mood afterwards. So we spent the way home in silence and his goodnight in bed was of the married-for-forty-years-could-be-in-bed-with-my-sister variety. Toneless and without feeling. goodnight

This morning I made us breakfast and got him up and we were ten minutes late and now my mood is hovering somewhere beneath a frog's cold arse.

Good news of today is I spoke to my tutor and she said she was totally flexible and would hold my grades as long as I needed and just to keep emailing and send whatever I could of the essay whenever I could. What a champ. What a lovely lovely Aussie.

More: I had some metrical training today from the lovely Zoe, who is quintessentially English looking. When I walked in to the new office, she was standing straight ahead of me, but did not notice me, and the first words I caught as I walked in, was her saying to Richard: "I'm in love"
And, as I sat through the training, I saw that she really is. Lost mid-sentence she would stare into the middle distance and I felt so jealous.
jealous of that first, flushed time when all you can think about is the other. When every single thought is interrupted by thoughts of how the other looks, how he smells, how his earlobe leaves salt blessings on your tongue, how his hair feels when bunched into your fists. I was jealous. When does that all-involving, all consuming feeling fade? I do still love him, but where's that topsy turvy can't-think-of-anything-else feeling gone?
But amongst the jealousy (or envy rather?) was joy at seeing someone like this. So honestly and totally in love. Today's she's been useless, I had to ask her twice to email me something. But I don't mind. It felt like a celebration seeing her like that today. And I don't really know her, she's just a distant colleague. But here's to Zoe, for being in love. Long may it last.

"Like all egoists I cannot bear to live alone"

I discovered something fabulous on Friday. G and I stopped in Regent Street to eat and pop into Waterstones before tubing it out to Heathrow to pick up Mari. I bought Justine, by Lawrence Durrell, of the Alexandrian quartet. I remembered that boozy warm night at Lord's in Budapest, with him and Aniko, playing scrabble and drinking harsh plum brandy and good strong wine. I asked him to list the essential books I should read, and the Alexandrian Quartet was on the list. So was the Master and Margerita, and the Bridge of St Luis Rey. I miss nights like that and I miss being surrounded by people like Lord.
Seeing Mari was wonderful (isn't it always?)

On Saturday we went to Portobello Road which was outrageously crowded but I love it. I bought some amazing cheese from a smily and friendly Frenchman, some olives and humous and feta from another stall, and three soft and wonderful avocados for just a squid!
Afterwards, we stopped in Camden Town to eat at Wagamama's and then Mari and I went to Hampstead to see Freud's house which was so wonderful. Beautiful memory-laden Hampstead.
G went to Matt's birthday drinks/dinner and Mari and I went to Hammersmith to the Riverside Studios to see a Strindberg play called Easter. Not a wow play, but good and the set was fantastic.

Indian in Leicester square and then home to bed. G home at 2am, small waking interlude then sleep again until 10.

On Sunday we saw the Caravaggio exhibition and then went to Chelsea- where I have never been! How cool is Chelsea!? (Not to mention their ultra-uber-sexy football manager) We walked down the King's Road drooling... I bought some bath and pamper stuff for G's mum's birthday and then we trundled home.

A last supper at the Flask was wonderful, and then some highbrow talk of existentialism, at least between G and Mari. I drew back into a Bailey's fug and wished myself elsewhere...

Today: cramps and tiredness, and so much work. Movie tonight maybe, and then tomorrow night, a movie at the NFT, so I can avoid Matt and avoid saying something rude or cruel that I don't mean. Long story, but I'll get over it. Eventually.

And amidst all this work, all I want to do is get back to Justine...

Hot shower

Yesss.... our taps are fixed our pipes are fine and I stood under scalding water this morning.
But even better news is that I ran for 35 minutes yesterday (not including warm up) and felt fabulous. My shins are a little sore and this morning I noticed a niggling pain in my right achilles tendon, but, bah....I'm running again!

We had a really great night last night...first gym, then dinner at Nusa Dua, an Indonesian/Malaysian place in Dean Street. Simple reliable food and a tiger beer, and then Lady Julia Morris at the Soho Theatre. The woman is fabulous. So Australian. Loved it. And G did too, which made me happy, considering all the things he had said about female comedians. Ha! Those homo-sexual gays reminded me of Aaron and I missed him like fuck.

Lunch yesterday was with Liouba and Yelena, and it was their treat and I felt pampered and well loved and a little sad that I'd be leaving. But 24 days now and I am trembling with excitement!

Mari arrives today, to hot showers but unfortunately also a huge mess in the house. At least the stove and bathroom are spotless and G has done all the dishes, so it's not as bad as it could be.

metricating...trying to get stuff all finished before the long weekend, because we're going to the Cotswolds... like today

In fact, love today. But scared of losing plot again. Had strange G + N panic moment and snapped at him for not a good enough reason. His lack of passion both humbles and irritates me. But I irritate myself more. Granted, I feel like a lemur in a petting zoo, but the end is so close, I can't keep letting it get to me. And N doesn't really bother me anymore. My self esteem has cranked itself back up to a reasonable level, thanks to me getting out more and breathing easier. The kindness of other people... although where the botherance with N stops is where my recklessness begins. Be careful Banana.

...rant

Wonderful morning. Actually, wonderful evening yesterday, despite total cock-up of plumber sent by incompetent useless landlord, so this morning, my post-coital shower was COLD. Refreshing but none too bloody welcome. So I came to work all smiles and shivers and I was very very happy and ridiculously in love with G.
And then I called the landlord just to talk to him about the shower situation, and as soon as I began to list the complaints he said something like "I am the landlord and if you have called to complain I will just hang up on you. We are doing our best-" and then I hung up on him because if I didn't I felt like I would have exploded. Are tenants not allowed to complain? Is his hairy arse subjected to a cold shower every morning? cunt cunt cunt
and then I called G to tell him what I'd done and I just started crying. Silly fucking banana, can't handle conflict at all.
And it's sunny outside, and I have lots of work and I should be pleased, but I'm worried now that they won't fix it out of spite and Mari is comign tomorrow and rah rah rah...
breathe, Banana, twenty five more days and then we're out of this incompetent stiff upper lip useless country. Home.

why are we always so tired?

Disappointing night... fabulous weekend (or rather, fabulous Sunday) but I'll have to write about that later as this morning I feel jaded and fallow. Why are we always so tired? Will our weekdays change when we move to Australia? Will more sunshine and less work make any difference at all? I'm frustrated and fatigued and I want to crawl back into a place where things didn't take so much damn effort. This crazy planet feels all too heavy on my shoulders today.

More...I thought by the middle of today the ick mood would have passed. It hasn't. I feel cast adrift today. Far away from everything, tired and hopeless.
I feel foreign from G- last night's frustration has left a metallic taste in my mouth and I'm not sure what to do about it. I get that feeling of wanting to crawl under something heavy and not come out.

This sunshine creeping at the window, this tired London trying to make me feel better. It's not. Bring on tomorrow. Or a different country. different me... lost Banana

Then again...

The Grr mood didn't last very long. I vented to poor G and he put the toothy grin right back on my face. Yep, luckiest girl in the world is me. :-)

Grrr

I started today smiling. In fact when I got off the bus at Archway I was smiling with all my teeth showing and I thought, who cares if London is gray, it's spring and life is good etc etc.
I read my San Francisco guidebook on the tube and smothered my hands in almond-oil cream, and felt pretty damn good.
Then I get to work, and there's this request to research a venue where we may hold a conference later this year. It's in Germany, could I please research its war-history to make sure we don't offend anyone we invite? For cunting fuck's sake... World leaders including Mandela and Clinton have stayed there... I'm fed up with this keeping up appearances bullshit. And also fed up with doing the dirty finicky work that my esteemed colleagues can't be fucked doing themselves. Counting down the days Banana, counting down the days.

quickie

This morning when I was changing lines at Tottenham Court Road I heard a reedy aching voice and the un-London twang of an acoustic. It was a tiny woman, face caked with make-up- the kind you imagine in a sad 80's movie on a night club singer who goes to a late night diner after closing- and bright blue fishnets and she was standing right up against the wall. I didn't look at her for long but her image kind of stuck with me as I mingled with the hundreds of non-people on the tube and it made me wish that there were more people like that. More people that pepper our lives with interest and colour. That all our days may not be gray

Tired days, dozing

Here it is, another sleepy day- may have something to do with the wine I drank last night. Well worth it though. N and I bunked off work at 5.30 and went to a wine bar in Hanover Square for a good old-fashioned bitch about work. Then I dragged her to Liverpool st where I have my waxing done and afterwards (walking like John Wayne) we went home to cook dinner and drink more wine. G provided some fantastic dessert and it was a gorgeous relaxed evening- we put make-up on each other. Yes, even G. And didn't he look handsome wearing my wow-green liquid liner...bless.

Today I am feeling vague, shivery and disillusioned with myself because I am having so much trouble writing this damn essay that is already two weeks late. I'm having trouble getting started and writing it at work is proving an impossible task. Tonight tonight...

Onto happier things, I have my tickets to both Rome, to see my beautiful Bud and to San Francisco where I get a double helping of soul food in Emily and Sarah (but geez what will I wear to the wedding?)

London is not helping today. It's bitterly cold and gray and miserable and I can't wait to be under vast blue skies. Although I read a story today of two men who died of thirst in the Great Sandy Desert in WA. But we'll be careful.

I suppose I'd better turn my thoughts to a discussion of how Aboriginal people construct 'whiteness'...

How the pieces all fit together

Today for the first time, sitting in Grosvenor Sq in the tepid sun with G, I could see my plans for the summer, fit together almost perfectly. It sounds like quite a jet setting time, with meeting Bud in Italy and then flying to San Francisco if all goes well and then Budapest in July, Transylvania in early August and then Perth. All of these places sound laced with sunshine, I'm a lucky girl.

I have seen a couple of things recently that I want to mention; two films which are very different but had quite severe mood-affecting qualities. 5x2, which, by no stretch of the imagination must be thought of as a date movie. It is the brutal, honest and emotionally tangled disintegration of a relationship. Starting at the divorce and rewinding through five episodes of the couple's life. Heavily depressing, it sat around us like a death sentence on the way home. A good film, but difficult.

The other film was Downfall. G said he'd never felt three hours pass so quickly. For me, it didn't pass quickly, but it was engrossing. And frightening and awful and gave that feeling of "god, how lucky are we?". It is a really good film, for all its detail and well formed, terrifying characters. I was reminded of this quote by Edmund Burke
"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing" when Traudl Jung was speaking about her time as Hitler's personal secretary, saying that she didn't know the extent of what Hitler was doing. Don't really think that's an excuse...

I had an interesting Friday night, full of booze and lights and lots of talking and even a bit of music so that on Saturday I was a little vague. The whole weekend though, was brimming with us together and new London bits to see and even a bit of sun. Oh, and I bought a very funky pair of sunglasses, which G says make me look glamorous.

Here's to this new week, here's to spring.

'nana xx

Sometimes London smiles on you

It was a good weekend, full of heavy English sunshine (and less than welcome English wind). But I got to have my legs out, dared to the rays pasty as they are. I smiled a lot this weekend. G and I spent pretty much all of it together - went to the Barbican on Sunday to see Christian Marclay and Tina Barney which were both surprisingly good, given my scepticism of 'modern' art. Ugly as it is, I find the Barbican wonderful. And we always have such a good time there.
I look at G some mornings and think I must be the luckiest girl in the world.

Now that the date is set, I think it will be hard leaving Highgate, and London and G most of all (though him the least permanently). I know this time will be different than when I had to pack up the room in Manor House and I felt my heart break in me and I thought it was the end of the world. And then I moved back and I'm glad I did.
All the penny pinching struggles and deciding between second hand books or food have been worth it. And maybe, though I hesitate to say this yet, just maybe, working as a receptionist will have been worth it for all I have seen. And in a year I'll have that damn degree I so yearn for, my ticket into the real human race. ("A race attempting humanity")

Today London is angry, or indifferent perhaps, with its steely grey sky and incessant misty rain. I love it today.

We all have to start somewhere...

Timea inspired me to start my own blog, though I have been thinking about it for some time now. A sort of exhibitionism of my thoughts.
And now that the time to say goodbye to so many things is drawing ever nearer (and some days I feel like it can't come soon enough) I thought it would be good to document the process in a way that won't get lost.