Even though I do mention it from time to time, I really don't hold that much stock in horoscopes,etc. However, this one, for the weekend, cut a little too close to the bone.

Cancer
The month really ends on a serious, sour and possibly difficult note and the death knell may ring. There is one friendship that ends suddenly and a criticism directed at you makes you think of the 'fight or flight' syndrome. A friend is harsh with you but look closely and you will see that it is they who are stuck and are contriving to pull you down with them. Dont let this happen.

I'm feeling very nervous about tomorrow. Yesterday was a nice day, and we all enjoyed the sun and watched a friend playing sport and just sat around mucking around and laughing. Tomorrow will be the real deal.

I do not like showing my emotions in front of people. I never have. I usually mask them well, but I know I won't be able to. I can already feel it. I really want to be able to just sit away in a corner on my own. This is compounded by the fact that Amy will be there, and due to a number of things said and done in the past, I just don't want to have to deal with her. She's poisonous. I don't want to be a part of her little drama. (You can think I'm being selfish and unkind. I probably am.) I just want to stay away from the work crowd and say goodbye to our friend in my own way.

It is going to be the hardest of days. My friend's family. Her friends. Her life. All that sorrow in one room. All the people touched by the person she was.

I'm afraid of all that emotion.

What? You're whining you don't have anything to inspire you. That you don't feel enough.

Well HERE! Slam these feelings into your gut, so hard you're winded, trying to suck the air in but you can't seem to get your breath. Your mind runs in small circles, trying to grasp the sensations that are taking over. Pry open your mouth, force the jaw open, stuff those feelings in there, cotton wool, dry, making you want to wretch. Tears welling up? Can't have that! Push those feelings further down, push them into the back of your throat, into your windpipe, down your asophagus. Throat so dry you can't swallow the hard lump away? Stomach seeming to swell with the nausea behind it? Push it down further. Push it into your gut. And push the rest back into the small part of your mind. The dark part. Way way back. Breath shallowly, because if you take it deep breath, it might all regurgitate itself back up. The raw, truly gut wrenching, nauseating pain that you can only just contain.

Want those fucking feelings now?

My friend died this morning at 9.30.



I spent the day literally not moving from in front of my computer for fear that even movement might tip my precarious balance. Control. Breathe. Don't think.

I've always said that I don't believe in regret, but today I felt the regret of every hug that I didn't give her (she loved hugs), of the distance at which I held her because of the seeds of doubt sown by another. I got it so wrong. And she was such an amazing...truly amazing person. Open, warm, funny, loving, always laughing, up to no good (in the nicest possible way), and with the worst karaoke voice ever (Sid Viscious's "I did it my way" will always make me smile). I am grateful to have known her, and devastated to have lost her so soon.

Slack.
Tart.
Boring.
Git.
Nuthin'
To Say.
Too Busy.
So Quiet.

Happy birthday to me!

.

And because misery loves company

I am loving my guitar lessons; I find them difficult and challenging, and sometimes my brain wants to shut down because it simply doesn’t ‘get’ it, or my fingers just can’t think where they should be going next, and I laugh and curse and stamp my feet in frustration – but still, there is enough of a moment where it is beginning to fit together, moments where I see the possibilities… and then it falls to pieces, but just for that moment…

There’s a chap who works at the shop where I go for my lessons, who last week commented that he thought I looked very tired. I was pretty hungover, so I probably did look rather shocking. This week I wasn’t hungover, but I had a few drinks last night, and could feel the tired sensation sagging around my eyes that alcohol tends to cause. When I went into the shop and waited for my teacher, this chap again said I looked tired. I laughed and said that he’d said so last week as well. He said yes, it was because my eyes looked… and he dropped his eyelids into a sleepy manner.
Ah. Here I was thinking it was my dark circles that looked bad. I have always been heavy lidded. Year after year of school photos show me looking sleepy and dopey and stupid. But that’s the way I was made. Not much I can do about it. I’ll just have to tell him next time that this is as good as it gets, and as awake as my eyes will ever look. Nicely. Because he is a nice man.

I finished Lighthousekeeping the night before last, and I had to read through my tears for the final pages. I cried for her loneliness. Her loss. She had learnt to love, perhaps, but the loneliness seemed to define her. I’m beginning to understand that.

I’m perverse. I feel lonely but then find myself so uncomfortable in the company of others. I worry that I might be sliding back into a dark place. I’m hanging on, desperately, to the things that I enjoy in my life, and I am trying so hard to not completely alienate every person in my life.

I have told people that I have resigned myself to being alone, and in part I believe that to be true. They ask how I cannot be lonely. I am. But I accept it. I don’t rail against the world because of it. What is the point? It isn’t the world’s fault. It is mine. I deserve it. I am not willing to do whatever it takes to make myself attractive to others. I have given up. And even if I were to attract them initially, they’d soon be so uncomfortable around me. I am awkward. I say the wrong things. I am too serious. I laugh inappropriately. I don’t accept things at their surface level. But I guess the truly telling thing is that I would not be able to trust… I would be simply waiting, keeping an eye on the door, watching to see their back as they walked out. And who could blame them. I’d probably walk out that door too, if I could simply figure out a way of leaving myself behind.

Things I realised tonight

German beer halls suck.

German food in german beer halls is way too expensive and even the fish tastes like greasy pork.

German beer, although impressive in stature in its half litre and litre mugs, is not much chop as far as beer goes.

Oompah Loompah bands are way too loud and simply headache inspiring.

I don't regret going along tonight, because it was for the best of reasons. My friend is sick. She is very sick, and has to have surgery that is risky and scary. If we stopped and thought about it, I think we would all find ourselves frozen to the spot, simply unable to comprehend how awful this is. Instead, a big group of us went out and ate and drank and made merry, celebrating our friend this week, and not thinking about the reality of next week.

Considering her reality, any of my feelings about my life seem petty. But the reality is that good people go through awful things all the time. It isn't fair. It is sad. But it is.

So how petty am I when I admit that after a night out with friends, friends who are kind and generous, I left the pub where we ended up, and walked down the street, controlling the almost, but not quite, irresistable urge to burst into tears. Not for any concern for my friend, who had left earlier in the evening, but because the loneliness seemed so overwhelming. The loneliness feels like a heavy smooth cold stone in my stomach.

Pathetic.

Have just started reading a book called Lighthouse Keeping by Jeanette Winterson. I like it. I'm being swept away. I know I will wish it was longer. Am not writing though. Drats.

Working working working. Am working a night shift tonight. Picked up my guitar after it having a service over the last few days. It sounds lovely. Shame about the player!

Better go. Brief, vapid, this is the Hooch.

Hmmmmm. Perhaps there should be an invention that won't let you open any new files on your computer if you are over the limit... it would mean noone could be subjected to posts like that one from last night. Oops.

I should clarify that I spent the night having "one drink" with some former work mates / now friends, which was great fun. Of course, the more I drink, the more I let my guard down, the more I remember how much I used to like physical contact with members (ha!) of the opposite sex, and the more aware I became of very attractive new addition to group sitting next to me, and a young woman's (or a letcherous woman's) mind turned to flights of fancy. Luckily I have an inbuilt guard mechanism that precludes me from pouncing on attractive young men innocently sitting at a table. The rant was at myself, not at my friends :)

This morning I duly suffered for my exuberance last night, and had a pretty terrible guitar lesson, but my teacher was sympathetic and gentle on my trembling hands. And then I worked until the evening (money money money), so tonight has been quiet, watching a bit of telly. I'll have a hot bath and get some sleep before going back in to work again tomorrow. I need to earn dollars, and lots of them!

I have some thoughts bouncing around in the old melon... about families, about expectations, and about conversations I've been having with fellow bloggers (online journal-keepers?). I'll see f I can sort them into any form of sense, or even half sense.

Drunk.
Very Drunk.
Very drunk and alone.
Very drunk and alone and spent the evening with beautiful people.
Very drunk and alone and spent the evening with beautiful people who would never be interested in old fat ugly Hoochs.

Sigh.

Gonna have a sore head in the morning.

All Class

I had a meeting last week for some freelance work typesetting for a publishing company. It was just a quick informal meeting, during which time I was shown some samples of their work, including some copies of a trade mag that I will be working on tomorrow. It is for the dairy industry. My mind immediately went back to the work I did on some in-branch collateral for a particular bank that was for the rural sector, which also featured cattle.

So I innocently pipe up, "You know, it's funny, everywhere I go, I seem to work with cows."

There was a moment of absolute silence, except for the loud clanging sound of the penny dropping for me.

The two women sitting opposite me looked at me, wide-eyed, and then burst out laughing.

Thank goodness.

I've lost it

I had it, and now I’ve lost it. I want it back. I miss it. I feel empty, and frustrated that I cant’ force it back to me. I had this little taste of how the words could flow, how the story could embrace me, but not it’s gone again. I sit in cafés and try to coax it back, sweet-talking it, turning my back to give it a chance to sneak back, like a small cat, curious, but wary. It just taunts me. I wouldn’t accuse it. I’d just embrace it.

If only it would come back to me.