Sunday, 26 July 2009
Saturday, 25 July 2009
The other day I was waiting in my favourite breakfast cafe for a friend and two strange and slightly compulsive things have happened.
1. I spent 15 minutes cleaning - the cafe has an upstairs area that consists of two rooms 1 playroom with toys and books and cushions on the floor and another dining area, with old mishapen chairs, adult books, and general flotsem that seems to fill chill out areas. Last week Andrew and I went there for breakfast and it was chaos up there books toys and old plates everywhere. Now one of the things we like about up there is its a place where people let their kids go wild, but I still want some sense of order so I don't feel like I am eating my breakfast in a hovel.
So while I was waiting for my friend I started tidying, I had no intention of doing much, just chucking a few toys back in the play space and making room on the dining table, but 15 minutes later I had stacked the books in order, refilled the sugars and moved the furniture so that the room was set out as I like it ... So slightly compulsive :)
2. As I was tidying the books I found a copy of John Wyndams - Day of the Triffids, and I wanted to take it home - ok its not as bad as it seems, the cafe is happy for you to take books home and I have often taken a few old books in there so its not stealing. The issue is that I already have 4 copies of Day of the Triffids. It seems that I have a Day of the Triffids obsession, every time I see a new version I want it and this one was one I didn't have, but it was covered in plastic, had the first 3 pages missing and a few ripped pages, still it took me the 3 hours we were there to decide whether to take it or not, I decided to take a copy of Rozencrantz and Guildenstren are dead instead, I still wonder if it might have been to much to take both...
Sometimes my strange ways even seem strange to me *grin*
Wednesday, 22 July 2009
On hindsight, the title of this post sounds far more interesting that the post is actually going to be.
Tuesday, 14 July 2009
Of course she had him, he walked in the door at the end of the day and she felt herself explode at him with everything that those professional relationships left unsaid, her thoughts, her feelings, her heart thrown out in words that barely made sense. They were said with a desperate need to share those parts of herself that she kept for people who were safe, she felt she could see him reeling sometimes as the words came out sounding like machine gun fire, rat a tat a tat a tat.
So she wrote blog post after blog post letting those feeling and thoughts have somewhere else to live, than squarely on his shoulders, ever aware that her big personality could not comfortably be carried by one person, no matter how much he loved her. Comments came and went and they reminded her that sometimes her thoughts were being shared with others and it helped, but it was not the same, and she longed for others to talk to, to share with and to have them share with her, more than the bore of the day or the next thing on the never ending list of items to tick off the to do lists.
She had family and they took some of her, they took the bits that you can normally share with family, and inside she quietly thanked them. Sometimes after a long week she could see the weight of her bearing down upon him, almost visibly feeling heavy with her emotions. But sometimes you can't talk to family about somethings and even if you can the phone is not always the best way to really share and listen.
Because that was the point, as much as the dominant feeling was wanting to share, she also wanted to be shared with, she wanted to give her ear, her shoulder and her brain to others. He was so wonderfully simple in his feelings and as much as that makes a good partner it leaves a hole ... A hole that only a good friend can fill.
She recalls friends from the past, some who moved away, others who's lives took different directions and a small few who had left her, or whom she had left in the midst of some sort of growth, emotional turmoil, or just bad timing. She missed them all sometimes, she missed the warm banter, having people to call on saturdays when she was home alone, she missed good friends, everyday friends, best friends.
It wasn't like she wasn't trying, but getting idle chit chat to turn into less idle chit chat, turn into something resembling friendship was hard. So she kept chatting, and hoping that someday she would find some people who would see her, accept her, maybe even love her in the way friends do.
Then one day some chit chat, turned into going home for tea, she remembered that you need to be brave and courageous in life and never more than when you are showing people who you are and hoping that they accept you. Chit chat, turned into talking, which turned into deep talking, and then friend begat friends and before she knew it, friends they were, good friends, loved friends.
She is not so lonely anymore, she has people to call, people who take some of the weight of her, he mentions that he feels lighter and she quietly thanks them under her breath, and she wonders if they know and know that she is sharing the weight of them as well, she wonders if she should tell them ... But decides to blog about it instead :)