If we get our full threescore and ten,
we won’t pass this way again.
So kiss me with your mouth open.
Turn the tyres toward the street
…and stay sweet.

All the chickens come on home to roost,
plump bodies blotting out the sky.
You know it breaks my heart in half, in half,
when I see them trying to fly.

‘Cause you just can’t do
things your body wasn’t meant to.
Hike up your fishnets –
I know you.

Last night was a lot of fun. I will write about it when I can get my head straight and I’m not seeing double.

My body is sooooo tired – why won’t it sleep?

She said she missed me today. What is that all about?

Television this time of night is honestly crap.

Not having to go to work tomorrow is a really nice feeling. I give Brenda till 11AM before she phones me.

Always someone missing something

I escaped my work Christmas party tonight, and traded it for a lookout and a thunderstorm. The lightening tonight is truly sensational.

It was pretty much winding down when I left anyway. All the Ukrainians had left (there must have been about 40 there) and most of the cleaning had been done. It actually went okay, the whole night. Our Christmas parties are always interesting, because it’s such a culture clash. We had Indians and British and South Africans and Swedish and Irish and Ukrainians and others I’m sure I’m not remembering. It’s one good thing about the job – lots of exposure to people from all over the world.

For some reason tonight though I really didn’t feel like being around people. I spent a lot of the night in my office, trying to hide. And it’s not like I was nervous or anything like that (which in the past has been my problem), it was more just really not wanting to make small talk. Does that make me rude and antisocial? Probably. I just wanted to be at home on my own.

Ironically, now I’m here and alone I just want company. I frustrate myself no end sometimes. I think, though, the sort of company I want I wasn’t likely to find there. I want stimulating conversation that cuts deeper than the surface, and I want the comfort of being able to say uninhibitedly what I’m thinking. I want to be challenged and disagreed with and agreed with.

It’s nights like tonight that I miss being with someone. It’s not just physically sharing space; it’s spending time with someone who only wants to spend time with YOU. I miss that.

I don’t think I could make any relationship work right now though. Until I get over a lot of the crap still going through my head, nothing is going to work long term. And you know, until I take care of myself physically, I don’t know if that’s going to happen. I have so many conflicting ideas in my head right now about that. About how I look, and how I look to other people, and equating the two of them together. A lot of me resents the fact that I need to lose weight for someone to be interested. Christ, is the physical appearance of a person REALLY that important? Turns out, yeah it is. I just don’t fall into a category that makes me physically interesting. I’m too big for a guy and not butch enough for a girl. I get kinda pissed that I have to go to so much more effort for someone to notice I’m not an idiot and can hold a decent conversation, because they’re not attracted to me right away. I get tired of it, so I mostly don’t bother.

Realistically, though, I understand the lack of interest. People, guys particularly, need to be with someone they are proud to be with. They need other guys (and girls I guess) to see who they’re with and be envious. It’s like it reinforces their belief in themselves on some level.

The nice thing about where I’m at right now, though, is that physical appearance is becoming less and less important. Could be that I’m growing up. Could be that I’ve been single too long 😉 Who knows.

I have figured out, in this whole stream of enlightenment thing I’ve got going on right now, that for years I’ve been sabotaging any weight loss. Being as big as I am was a great excuse to not go out, to not make friends, and to be unattractive. None of those things are part of me anymore – I have great friends, a (probably too) active social life, and there are parts of my physical appearance that I genuinely don’t hate. So what’s the problem? There isn’t one. It’s time to figure this out and get it right. And for the first time in my life, this is for me. Not for anyone else, or because someone else thinks it’s a good idea.

I’m nervous though. If I lose weight, and become what most consider to be more attractive, what then? Any balance I have gained recently might be lost. I guess, though, things shift until they’re balanced again. It’s just what happens.

Anyway, the difference between now and 12 months ago is now I know it’s going to happen. In the past the anxiety I’ve felt has come from not being sure I could do it, and letting myself down again. Now the anxiety is coming from the outcome of it actually happening, because I know in my mind now that it’s a given. It was the same in Peru, on day 2 of the Inca Trail. I was really, really struggling to make it up that mountain – it was so HARD because the struggle in my mind constantly was whether or not I could do it. Then I just decided that I would. After that, the struggle was more about minimising the pain before I got there rather than whether I would get there at all. So it’s a feeling I’m familiar with, and I know from experience how determined I can be.

Whatever it is, it’s all good. I’m still not sleeping, but I’m being patient about that and trying not to over think it. Tomorrow I have a server upgrade to do (well, Alan does, but I will make sure he gets there on time, make him coffee and hand him screwdrivers 😉 ), but after that I am officially on leave for 10 days. And it feels like a real break as well – a few days at home with no plans, time with family (which might very well drive me nuts) and time with friends. Very nice indeed 🙂

I need to stop typing. Perhaps I should have stuck to the pen and paper – writer’s cramp would have stopped me well before now.

I don’t know where the sunbeams end and the starlights begin

Which is better – apathy, or misguided passion?

With apathy, there is general quiet. Through (particularly misguided) passion we get conflict. Through conflict though we can attain understanding, right? Unless we all kill each other first. There has to be dialogue though. Why is it that people are terrified of talking to each other? I don’t know why I find it so much easier to talk to someone rather than physically act, when it’s obvious the majority of the rest of the world feels just the opposite.

The events in Sydney the last week have been really hard to watch. I’m angry at the seemingly wilful ignorance that started this whole thing and I’m angry at the PM for just plain REFUSING to see what the situation really is. No, John, we don’t have an underlying racial problem in this country. Everything is fine, and everyone gets on.

And how the fuck can people look at Iraq, and the events of the last week, and not see that the two are somehow related?

I sometimes think it would be easier just to not watch the news or read. It’s a curse being as nosy as I am and needing to know what’s going on. With everything. And everyone 😉

The wind is really picking up outside. The wind makes most people I know uneasy, but for me it’s just the opposite. If I’m inside, in my house or just indoors anywhere, hearing the wind howling outside makes me feel safe. And if I’m outside, there’s a delicious feeling of being so tiny and insignificant that you could be whisked away at any point and you have no control over it. Whenever I hear the wind outside, like I do now, all I want to do is go and stand face first into it.

I’m not sure if I’m going to tell anyone about this online thing yet. I mean, there are people who know it exists, but only one actually knows where it is. There’s something nice about anonymity. Part of me is also worried I’m going to start censoring myself if I think there’s someone reading what I’m writing. I really don’t want to do that – the whole idea about putting words down is to write for yourself, right? That’s one nice thing about a paper journal – unless you’re a bit careless about where you keep it, no one gets to see it but you. So??? is it a blog, or an online journal? I think there’s a difference. We’ll see.

Besides, I’m not sure it would be interesting for anyone else to read. I hope someone shoots me if I become the sort of girl who writes about what day she vacuums, or buying a new toothbrush.

I haven’t heard from Tara in almost a week, which makes me uneasy. I have terrible visions of her being stuck at US border control, too scared to phone us because she feels silly for doing what she’s done. If that has happened I’m not sure I will forgive Mum for making her feel that way. I need to know she’s okay.

Also, I want to meet Beth Orton. I just know she has a soul as beautiful as her face.

Welcome to:

So I think I got it running.

I’d like to say it was COMPLETELY without help, but I’d be lying. Now that I have it I’m not quite sure what to do with it. I’ve kept a paper journal for as long as I can remember, and using a keyboard instead is going to take some getting used to.

It’s sad in a way, too. It’s like the pen and paper wasn’t good enough, which really wasn’t the case at all. I love the feel of paper, and I love journals (especially my current one) and I love writing by hand. It’s just that my hand won’t keep up with my head most days, and putting it all online will help keep it organised. And the idea is, the more organised my thoughts are in text, the more organised my thoughts will be in my head, right?

Great idea in theory Karen. We’ll see how that one goes.