Going Places

2010 will be a year of going places, seeing new people, visiting new things.

2010 will be a year of itchy feet.

That's the plan.

Books Books Books

Newest additions:

1) Lady Chatterley's Lover - DH Lawrence
2) Cry, The Beloved Country - Alan Paton
3) The Unbearable Lightness of Being - Milan Kundera
4) Jude The Obscure - Thomas Hardy
5) For Esme With Love And Squalor - JD Salinger
6) The Infinite Plan - Isabel Allende

What I Miss Most About Living On My Own

Being able to do my song and dance routine while doing the dishes.

Through The Desert

In Where The Wild Things Are, the new movie based on the children's book, Max is twice led through a desert and faced with a realisation. Carol leads him through a desert and shows him what things used to be like, and wishes for things to go back to the way they were. KW leads him through a desert and shows him how things could be, and wishes everyone would move forward with her. He's somewhere in the middle.

The Wisdom of Chris Addison

As seen in The Guardian today.

"Chris mainly watched Fireman Sam over and over again with his chickenpox-ridden brood: 'If I were rationalising the Fire Service, the Pontypandy station would be the first to go. All they do is clear up after Norman Price, who really ought to be brought to the attention of social services.'"

Double Take

, originally uploaded by liz_isabella.

Shades of Gold

, originally uploaded by liz_isabella.

The Road Less Travelled

, originally uploaded by liz_isabella.

Walk On

It's so easy to keep making excuses. My hiking boots are still in storage. I don't have a car. It's rainy and muddy. I'm scared to go on my own. But you have to see past the bullshit. You have to see the excuses for what they are - unfounded fears, silly hang-ups, ridiculous concerns - and move beyond them.

Never make excuses that prevent you from doing the things you want to do.

I don't want to be that person anymore. I don't want to be the person who has lots of ideas and plans, but does nothing to make them happen.

Today, I couldn't find my hiking boots and I wasn't able to buy a new pair, so I sucked it up and hiked in trainers. I hate hiking in trainers. I hate not hiking even more.

Starbucks Parable

Not every panini is my panini,
I said,
wishing it was so.
As a steak and tomato toasted made its way to the customer
at table 3.

Not every panini is my panini,
I murmured,
passing my gaze
to the display case with its sign:

Fair Trade (a better deal for all)

and waited for my skinny latte.
Double tall.
Extra hot.

Hmmmmmm

A new movie that kind of intrigues me on an anthropological level. The Best Friend would understand what I mean.

Babies.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr

I share a house with three strangers. The dispossesed Vietnamese chick has just moved out, leaving me to deal with a bemused Frenchman and a couple, who I will call Cock and Cock's Girlfriend.

One of the house rules is that no-one is allowed to wear shoes inside. I did not make this rule. I think it's a stupid rule, because there are tiles everywhere and I don't like being told what to do. Nonetheless, I take my shoes off and then I put them in my room. Sometimes in the cupboard. Sometimes they land near the chest of drawers. Sometimes they lie under my bed.

The rest of the household (read: Cock and Cock's Girlfriend) leave their shoes piled up by the front door. There's such a large pile that you can't get to the stairs without first having to negotiate the pile of trainers, loafers, high heels and other unwieldly footwear in enormous sizes. I mean, we're talking boxes without topses here.

So it was inevitable that I would this morning fall over an enormous pair of trainers and twist my ankle. Just as it was inevitable that as I fell I hurt my back. And then it was inevitable that I would shriek: "Fucking shoes!" and then kick them all over the passage. And it was inevitable that I step over them on my way out and lock the door, without tidying them away. My ankle hurts.

Walk Away Renee - The Left Banke

Progress?

A little while ago I posted a post about the fact that questions keep me awake at night. A friend asked me if that was true, do I really lie awake at night questioning and wondering? I said yes, because I do. But later, as I was replaying the conversation in my mind, I realised that I wasn't being completely honest. Because I hadn't realised that something had changed. I still lie awake sometimes, and then I think long middle-of-the-night thoughts (I blame the medication I've just gone cold turkey on), but I don't do it nearly as much as I used to do. I still fret, but it's not the destructive fretting I remember from a few years ago. I still worry, but it's not the all encompassing worry that used to make me not want to get up in the morning. It's all become tinged with a practicality. A pragmatism. A realisation that it's OK to have a mope, or a wallow, or feel a bit fretful. But there's no point in letting get in the way of my sleep. Or my life.

Progress? Who knew! It happened and I didn't even realise.

Missed Call

I got a call on my mobile from an unknown number. It went to voicemail, and all I got was a young man's voice in mid conversation. He was saying:

"HIV Positive - it's a play on words, but it's just a bad saying. It's about saying that we're not going to be sucked into the stigma that's associated with having HIV or Aids. Radical. Are you serious? You're talking shit Joe. You're talking absolute shit. No I won't hear you out. It's not logical. Because the time when you're most at risk of contracting HIV Aids is in the first two weeks of infection. And you become less infectious as time goes on. And you can be given drugs to reduce the infectiousness as well. Well there's an infesction risk for anyone. The risk applies to us all the time. Millions of people - 10 million people. It's not logically. You can't look at everything with your weird pragmatic pathologic slash fascist mind. It doesn't work all right, it doesn't work. No, you're wrong."

Viral marketing campaign? Accidental bum dial? Who knows. Funny though.

Diffident

dif·fi·dent (df-dnt, -dnt)
adj.
1. Lacking or marked by a lack of self-confidence; shy and timid.
2. Reserved in manner.

Catch

When people talk of being caught
between a rock and hard place,
You are what they mean.

When people talk of being caught
between the devil and the deep blue sea,
You are what they mean.

When people talk of being
caught out and caught up,
caught by and caught in,
and caught on caught on caught on.

When people talk of
being caught,
You are what they mean.

Burning questions

It's the whys and the hows that get me. The whos and the whatfors. The wheres and the whens. It's the questions that keep me up at night, turning thoughts that have no end over in my head.

Head desk

You know those moments when you just want to plant your face in your hands forever, while waiting for The Hole In The Earth to swallow you up as promised?

I have those every day. On special days, I have those moments every hour.

But I Being Poor Have Only My Dreams

When I was 18 I dreamed that I was sitting at a kitchen table. It was round and stained yellow. A bright buttercup yellow. The table sat in a window, and through the window I could see it was a beautiful day - blue sky and sunlight. I could feel it warming my face as I looked up from the papers I was sorting through. I sat looking out of the window, lost in thought. Someone walked through the kitchen. As he passed he touched me lightly on the shoulder. He didn't say anything, and I didn't say anything. But I woke up still feeling the light touch on my shoulder. And was content.