Archive for the ‘Lovelife’ Category

A 35 Year Sentence!!!

Posted: September 16, 2011 in Family Dynamics, Lovelife, Musings

I’m going to jail!!!

OMG!!

OMG!!

OMG!!

Apparently, what I did was wrong but – who knew?

I sure as fuck didn’t. Well…

I mean really! Dancing naked on your own balcony can’t be such a heinous crime, right?

It isn’t.

And I’m not going to jail.

I bet I had some of you worried there for a bit, huh?

HAHAHA!!!!

I did get a stiff fucking fine for my dancing though!

$1500 for ‘indecent exposure’!!

WHAT THE FUCK!!!???

Seriously??!!

There is nothing indecent about my derrière and the dance moves weren’t too shabby either…

OK, so all kidding and ‘April Fool’s Day’ joking aside (even though it’s September. I’m either five months behind or seven months ahead – take your pick!)

My parents celebrated their 35th wedding anniversary recently and (naturally) it was a big event. All us kids were there and the grandkids.  Friends and other relatives (doesn’t that come out of Winnie the Pooh?) were there too and we all had a jolly time.

35 years! Wow!

WOW!!!

Now, that is a long sentence –  one that they both relish and appreciate.

It all started on a beach in LA 36 years ago in December of 1975. Daddy was studying at university to be a civil engineer and mom was at nursing school. They met at a party and (according to dad) ‘there was an instant connection’. Mom says she was a bit sceptical of dad at first but ‘he grew on me’.

According to Aunt Dee (dad’s sister) he had a drink too many and told mom, ‘I’m still going to marry you one day.’ Where by mom responded, ‘Sure and you can call me Elmo.’

It’s a family joke because sometimes dad DOES call mom ‘Elmo’. It always makes her smile.

 

So, nine months later, on a hot September morning, mom and dad exchanged vows on the same beach they met.

Nanna and Pappie (mom’s mom and dad) weren’t too thrilled about their daughter’s ‘whirlwind romance’. In fact, when the two young lovebirds told them that they were getting married, Pappie turned to dad and said, ‘If you got her knocked up I’ll knock you down.’

Pappie died shortly after my eldest brother, Sebastian, was born (three years later, mind you) so I never knew him but he sounded like one hell of a guy. He took no bullshit, spoke his mind and enjoyed life. Remind you of anyone?

So, now you know how my brothers and I came to being. It all started on a beach in LA, 35 years ago.

You also know where the craziness comes from!

Mom and Daddy have been married for such a long time, dad’s parents were married for fifty-five years, Nora and Sebastian have eight years of marital bliss, Jesse and Jasmine have ten years and Ruben and Holly have seven.

Thinking about this made me very jealous and dumped me back into feeling cheated. My shrink (yeah, I still see him) says that eventually, I’ll no longer feel cheated.

Um – yeah, whatever. I’ll always feel cheated by Logan’s death.

But, enough of that.

I’ll post another blog a bit later of what actually happened at the party that has caused me to be absent for a while.

*#*

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Hi guys!

It’s a wonderful morning, isn’t it? Wait, what time is it? Is it still night or technically morning when it’s 12:30?

And, is it Sunday night, or Monday morning? I can’t keep up!

After James recent post:   http://aardvarkian.com/2011/08/14/100-words-100-days-day-24-on-insomnia/

I’ve been giving it all some thought. How many insomniacs are out there, reading my post right now? I take it more than a few, right? Anyway, we all know the terrible toll it takes, the bitchiness, the snappy snipes that we dish out, the oh-my-God-help-me-before-I-wring-my-own-neck attitude that sometimes rears its ugly head.

We all hate the sand coated eyeball feeling and that fucking clock’s ticking is getting louder and louder and LOUDER – even though it really isn’t.

So, I’ve decided to try something (but God help me, the technical aspects of these blog things are WAY too complicated for me!) I want to create a website, blog – whatever – where (as insomniacs) can write down all the frustrations, all the anger (in my case anyway) and the tears of insomnia.

HAHA! What do you think of that?

Pretty neat, huh?

No, you’re not interested?

Fuck.

Whatever.

I’m going to be writing down my little – upsets with insomnia. If you want to follow – by all means – follow. If not – that’s your business! It doesn’t matter one little bit to me!

HAHA!!

(OK, so I’m VERY fucking tired as I type this (I haven’t slept in – 96 hours) so that explains my happiness!) 

Right, so that’s that.

Next, weekends.

As some of you will have noticed, I’m not very active over the weekends. That’s because I’ve decided that weekends are ‘me’ time. I’m trying to do things other than internet blogging and writing and working over a weekend. So, if you don’t hear from me for the duration of the weekend, it’s not because I’ve absconded again! I’m just on ‘cyber holiday’. OK?

Good.

Next, we have Revenge!!!

I love it! Really I do!

But, it is a very bad thing. Naughty, naughty Andi! (Pfft! Yeah, right!)

Who of you have read my previous blog entitled ‘The Seven Deadly Sins: Wrath’?

For those who haven’t, I hope the link works!!

https://anightingalesblog.wordpress.com/2010/12/22/the-seven-deadly-sins-wrath/

I consider ‘wrath’ and ‘revenge’ twins. You won’t get one without the other so, their more like Siamese twins actually.

Speaking of Siamese twins, aren’t two kittens born in the same littler to a Siamese cat also technically Siamese twins?

Just a thought.

ANYWAY, after calling Nik and his ‘woman’ together to convene and converse in a civilised manner concerning her blatant slander and her unruly dedication to tarnishing my good name, thereby scarring my delicate psyche beyond any and all recognition – I have fucking well set things right!

So right, in fact, that seeing as she doesn’t use the rock climbing facility for its actual purpose (as set out in the ‘club rule book’) and neither does she participate in any of the duties that the non-climbers have in seeing to it that the refreshment stand is well stocked  – she has official been asked to refrain from entering the club unless she is in fact seriously taking up climbing or tending to the refreshment stand!

In other words – she’s been given the boot!

Hip! Hip! Hoo – fucking – ray!

Oooo, I know what you’re thinking, ‘Andi, you got a girl kicked out of the class simply because she called you a few names?’

Fuck no!

I got her kicked out because her voice was getting on my nerves! How many of you watched ‘The Nanny’ with Fran Drescher?

Like that! Only worse! It had a gravelly texture to it – like she was choking on rocks!

 

Argh, so maybe I got her kicked out for her voice and the name calling. I wasn’t the only one that complained! So it’s not like it was a ‘personal grudge’ or anything like that.

But, I confess, I do feel very triumphant!

 

So, now I’ve covered the basics, I think.

 

What are the basics?

Black and white?

Right and wrong?

Male and female?

 

Fuck this, I’m off to bed.

 

*#*

Why is it that some people don’t see the inner beauty of others? They only look at the outside and simply assume that because the person isn’t a flawless beauty who models underwear in their spare time, that they’re not worthy of their time and friendship?

I hate people like that, I really do. They are such a pain in the ass.

Take Nik’s new girlfriend, for example. (Now, I confess, I might be a little biased but it isn’t easy seeing him with another woman. not easy at all even though I was the one to break things off. It still sucks though. I wanted him to be moping for his loss for a little longer, dammit!) Anyway, she’s a pretty girl; long blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, cute dimples when she smiles and laughs – that sort of pretty. Not the sort of girl I saw Nik moving on with but – that’s his business.

She comes to climbing class (oh yes! I still go! And I enjoy every second of it regardless of Nik’s looks and glances) but, she doesn’t climb. Oh no, ‘she could chip a nail’ (LOL!!!) so she sits all dressed up in climbing clothes (WTF!!) and just watches the rest of us. I have a bit of a problem with that – just a little one because, besides watching, she shouts out ‘encouragement’.

For example, ‘That’s it! That’s it! Just a little higher!’ or ‘Reach to your left! To your left!’ or my personal favorite ‘You got it, baby!’ as Nik reaches the summit for the umpteenth time with his newer recruits.

Ahem.

My friend Harry recently started taking the class. He wanted to do something fun and at the same time, something that will give him one hell of a workout, so I told him about the rock climbing classes that I take. He was very eager and signed up for it immediately. He also went out and bought himself the most atrocious track suit pants!

Anyway, we arrived at class together and people stared at us but particularly at Harry. You see, Harry was in a terrible motorbike accident when he was seventeen. He was thrown from his bike at nearly 110 miles an hour (that’s 176 km) and was badly injured. He was in the hospital for six weeks, four of which were spent in a coma that doctors doubted he would ever wake up from. He was wearing a helmet (thank God!) but in some weird twist, after the initial impact, it popped off and he hit the ground again, was knocked unconscious and skid for nearly 60 feet before coming to a stop.

It was horrible. Half of Harry’s face was gone! Torn off by the ground as he skid across it. His left ear was shorn off leaving only a gaping hole, he is partially blind in his left eye and the scars are terrible. After months of reconstructive surgery, Harry’s nose and lip were restored and the doctors even took some skin and tissue from his leg and gave Harry a new cheek. It was awesome!

But the scars will always remain. He looks so much better now than what he did 10 years ago (the redness and swelling  have gone down completely) but – as I said, the scars remain and in many cases, that’s what people look at and nothing more.

Harry’s sense of humor, his wit and charm are lost on many people because they are ‘grossed out’ by him. In college, I was appalled by some of the things that people said about him. I even gave one guy a blue eye because he said that Harry was so disgusting, his own mother didn’t want him around.

So, standing there in rock climbing class, people all staring and whispering about Harry, I felt so angry and wondered why people only look at the outside. Albert and Scott introduced themselves and immediately asked Harry if he was here for the beginners class or would he be interested in getting into something a little tougher. They have no problem with Harry (and I love them for it!).

Then there’s ‘Miss Priss’. She just kept staring at Harry and when he went over to the refreshments table (about ten feet from her) she watched him coming and then got up and went over to Nik, shying away from Harry like he was a leper. Harry was cool with it, he’s been dealing with people like her for years but for me –

I’m very protective of Harry even though he’s well over six feet tall. He doesn’t need my mothering but – I can’t help it. So when I heard her laughingly ask Nik (in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear), ‘How does he wear sunglasses?’ I lost it. It was such a stupid remark really but – it hurt Harry. I know it did even though he said nothing.

I told Nik to keep his bitch on a shorter leash and if he didn’t have one, he could always use the one I used on him when we were together. This made Harry burst out laughing and we left in good spirits.

But, the question remains, someone who is as pretty as she is, still can’t see the beauty in others. It makes me wonder, how many of you have seen the movie ‘Shallow Hal’ with Gwyneth Paltrow and Jack Black?

Jack’s character is hypnotised so that he sees people for who they are on the inside. He is then attracted to all these ‘beautiful’ women (who in turn are attracted to him) but they are in actual fact, ‘ugly’ women. This movie had a severe impact on me.

I wonder what ‘Miss Priss’ would look like if we only got to see her ‘inner beauty’?

And what would people see when they look at me?

*#*

First Date = Hospital

Posted: January 28, 2011 in Food & Recipes, Lovelife

As many of you know, I was out on a date with Nik the other night.

Yes, it was a date. An official one with all the bells and whistles. Well, maybe not but it was officially our ‘first date’.

It was – weird. As I mentioned before, this was the first ‘first date’ that I’ve been on in four years. It felt strange getting ready knowing that ‘this is a date!’ An official one. And fyi, there is a difference between a ‘first date’ and an ‘official first date’ Just don’t ask me what it is!

Anyway, firstly, it was cold – seriously cold and snowy and – did I mention cold? Seriously, it was cold. I dressed rather casually for this date (dress-shirt, leather jacket, jeggings and of course – my thigh high boots) and so, we set off.

We decided on dinner and a movie – nothing fancy – nothing ‘out there’ that made either of us uncomfortable but – it somehow felt strained at dinner. Like we were trying too hard not to appear like we were trying. (??) I hope that makes sense to you, I’m still having trouble with it.

Anyway, dinner in this cozy little joint that serves the most delicious seafood chowder, saw us sitting and talking about mundane, ordinary things when Nik looks at me and says, ‘I think I’m in trouble.’

What? As in WHAT? Where did that come from? I stare at him stupefied and ask, ‘Um, OK, how so?’

By now, he’s getting up and scratching around in his pocket. Without a word, he pulls out a little blister pack of pills and instantly takes one. I’m sitting there thinking, WTF dude?! Then I see a reddish rash spreading over his lips, his eyes are watery and he’s taking deep, deep breaths.

‘Are you OK?’ I ask going over to him and I feel that he is hot (temperature wise, not sexy hot although he is HOT)

‘Sesame seeds.’ He tells me and I blink a few times before I realize – the man is allergic to sesame seeds. SEVERELY allergic to them!

We spent the rest of the evening in a hospital room while his ‘vitals’ were being monitored. He is allergic to one thing and one thing only – sesame seeds. That means, no sesame seed buns, no seed loaf, no – anything with sesame seeds. Sesame seed oil (which he tells me is very healthy for you) is also a major no-no.

He felt horrible and looked horrible. It’s amazing how something so small can be so – destructive and deadly. His lips were all puffy and red, a rash spread across the entire left half of his face and his eyes were nearly swollen shut. Talking was difficult for him and he said that I should go home, that he was sorry this happened but – it wasn’t his fault.

So I stayed. The doctors said that he was extremely lucky to have his medication (they said the name but I DO NOT know how to pronounce it, let alone spell it) otherwise it could have been much, much worse.

Another thing, who would have thought that seafood chowder would have sesame seeds in?

Nik’s fine now, he was discharged the following morning, none the worse for wear, just still a little swollen and red. I drove him home because his eyes were still watering and slightly swollen and I tucked him into bed (nothing funky, OK!) He was all smiles (wonky and oh so adorable) when I gave him a kiss and thanked him for the – interesting evening.

Nora being Nora thought that it was weird. She wanted all the details though, I can tell you that! Now she asks me, ‘If’ (her emphasis, not mine) ‘you bring him to dinner, what can I make for us to eat?’

Hello! I felt like screaming, whatever the fuck you want, just not anything with sesame seeds in it!’

All in all, I think it was an interesting first date. Don’t you? Definitely not your typical first date.

*#*

Someone – New??

Posted: January 21, 2011 in Lovelife

Shadow of the Day

by

Linken Park

 

I close both blinds below the window,

I close both blinds and turn away.

Sometimes solutions aren’t so simple,

Sometimes goodbye’s the only way.

 

And the sun will set for you,

The sun will set for you.

And the shadow of the day,

Will embrace the world in gray.

And the sun will set for you.

 

There’re cards and flowers on your window,

Your friends all plead for you to stay.

Sometimes beginnings aren’t so simple,

Sometimes goodbye’s the only way.

 

And the sun will set for you,

The sun will set for you.

And the shadow of the day,

Will embrace the world in gray.

And the sun will set for you.

 

And the shadow of the day,

Will embrace the world in gray.

And the sun will set for you.

 

And the shadow of the day,

Will embrace the world in gray.

And the sun will set for you.

 

 

Bear with me on this one, OK?

Please?

I just need to – ‘vent’, to ‘find an expression for’ to ‘force out’ my – confusion. If it is confusion that it is that I’m feeling.

So – patience is the key here, OK.

 

Right –

This song is – I don’t know exactly.

Firstly, it’s a beautiful song and I love it but, it feels like a song where you’re saying goodbye to someone you care about, someone you love.

It’s like you’re making peace with everything and everyone.

I think it’s also a song of ‘yes, shit has happened but there is still hope and life – and love.’

I don’t know if that can relate to ‘the sun will set for you’ considering that ‘set’ could mean ‘end’ but maybe it’s the end of unhappiness, the end of sorrow, the end of loneliness – ?

Huh? Does that make sense?

I don’t know, that’s just the feeling I get when I listen to this song.

It’s like saying goodbye to one aspect and saying hello to a new one.

The paragraph,

‘There’re cards and flowers on your window,

Your friends all plead for you to stay.

Sometimes beginnings aren’t so simple,

Sometimes goodbye’s the only way.’

 

also has a special meaning considering that, that is exactly how I felt after Logan’s death.

There were cards and flowers on the window, my friends did plead for me to stay, the new beginning of my life without Logan wasn’t simple and goodbye felt like it was the only way.

But (and it’s a big but) there’s another aspect to the last two lines of the other paragraph:

 

‘Sometimes solutions aren’t so simple,

Sometimes goodbye’s the only way.’

 

The synonyms of ‘solution’ (as defined) are ‘result’, ‘clarification’, ‘answer’ and also ‘way out’. So if I was to replace (or substitute) ‘solution’ with – ‘result’ then the verse would read ‘Sometimes (the) results aren’t so simple.

Does that make sense? The result of Logan’s death isn’t simple and it never will be but:

‘Sometimes goodbye’s the only way’.

Sometimes, saying goodbye is the only way. ‘Letting go’, ‘taking leave’, ‘moving forward (but never forgetting)’ is the only way – ?

Again, huh? Does that make sense?

No?

Am I still spouting gibberish?

Well, that’s understandable. At least – I think it’s understandable. I mean it makes total sense to me. You know, what I’m trying to say here with –

FUCK!!

I am spouting gibberish, aren’t I?

OK.

 

>deep breath<

 

Why am I writing about ‘making peace’ and ‘saying goodbye to one aspect and hello to another’, and about ‘the result of Logan’s death isn’t simple and it never will be but sometimes moving on is the only way’?

Well – um – I think I’m dating someone.

Yes, I said, I think because I’m not sure – exactly.

Technically – we’ve been on a date or maybe three but – they weren’t exactly dates. They were – meetings of sorts. It was the get together of two people on a few occasions.

OMG, they were dates, weren’t they?

OK, no need to panic.

They were only a movie, a carriage ride and a friendly dinner between two people who are friends and possibly, maybe, in all probability, almost assuredly have feelings (which are more than just simple friendship feelings) for each other.

Right?!?!

God! I’m still spouting!

I haven’t been on a ‘first date’ in nearly – four years. It’s – awkward for me this time.

Thoughts of ‘Does my hair look OK?’ and ‘I’m not wearing too much makeup or perfume, am I?’ and of course, the constant ‘Is this outfit a bit much or boring?’ keep flying through my head. I’m worried that if I should accidentally bump into him, do I at least look decent?

I don’t have a problem with dating or anything but – I have this feeling of – unease that I simply can’t shake off and I don’t know what to do.

Or feel.

I feel – strange.

Like – there’s a light at the end of the tunnel at last. Like someone’s found my endless tunnel of loneliness, barrenness and fear and is shining a bright torch, beckoning me out of the tunnel.

‘Move toward the light!’

‘Move toward the light!’

‘Your new life awaits!’

‘Don’t be afraid!’

‘Move toward the light!’

I feel slightly guilty too. I mean, I know I’m not ‘cheating’ on Logan but – it feels strange knowing that I’m getting (having?) this second chance, this new (but at the same time familiar) joyous feeling of butterflies and fumblings, laughs and mumblings.

I don’t know what to make of it. I – like – these feelings. I like feeling the anxious anticipation, the breathlessness and – eagerness of waiting for him to come and get me, to call me – to touch me, even if it is just to take my hand.

 

Man, I’m so fucked!

 

Nothing’s happened between us.

We haven’t spent the night at each other’s apartments; we haven’t even kissed, at least, not the deeply-passionate-I-can’t-breathe-please-get-your-tongue-out-of-my-throat kind of kiss. Just one or two pecks on the cheek after he walked me to my door and made sure that I was safely inside my apartment.

Which brings me back the other paragraph’s second last line:

‘Sometimes beginnings aren’t so simple,’

This is a new beginning and it won’t be easy. It’s going to take a while for me to – adjust to this new situation. I mean, after the last shitty ten months of my life, it’s understandable, right?

OMG!! It’s only been ten months! Is it wrong for me to – be moving on? I mean – I still love Logan and – I always will love him but – I’m being selfish, aren’t I? It feels like I’m betraying him somehow, in a weird sort of way. But, I said that this was the year for me to start moving on.

Am I moving on? Am I getting over Logan’s death and – realigning my life to become in sync with what’s going on around me?

I’ve had to learn to live on my own again; I’ve – mostly – accepted the fact that Logan is dead and never coming back, no matter how much I want/wanted him to; I’ve learned to do everything for myself again, I’ve become – me again (without the booze this time around).

You guys didn’t know of this (well, ONE of you did) but, I was hitting the bottle pretty hard at a stage there. And I mean HARD, even by my standards. No bullshit. There was a space of two maybe three months when I couldn’t go without the booze. In fact, it got so bad that I would think nothing of it if I finished a bottle of wine and a half bottle of tequila (by myself) in a single evening. I admit, once I got a really good look at myself (after receiving a short message from a caring friend) it scared the shit out of me which is why I resorted to asking for – advice – from said friend in my own, unique, only-Andi sort of way.

Anyway, I’m WAY off track here.

Ahem.

He knows my history, my pain and anguish, my failed suicide attempt, my struggle with alcohol. He knows that for a long time, I put up this strong I-can-do-anything-I’m-fine-and-don’t-need-anything-from-anyone front that was used to hide how small, alone and fearful I really was. Believe me, there was a front. A wonderfully devious yet earnestly necessary front to prove to my family that I wasn’t still a basket case that needed constant watching or monitoring. It was a front that could easily have won me the million dollar jackpot if I was playing poker in Vegas.

Up until a month ago, one of my brothers or sisters-in-law would either call me or come see me EVERY DAY just to make sure that I was OK. I love them because of it, they care and were worried about me but it was also getting on my nerves. I’m a grown woman, for crying out loud! I don’t need babysitting! Although, I understand why they did it. They were worried, just as I would have been if the roles were reversed.

That all changed after I told them that I wasn’t a child and that I was better. I was lying, naturally (about feeling better, not about not being a child) but I felt I didn’t need them observing my every move!

ANYWAY!!

He knows that it will take time if we really want to take this – friendship further. Time for me to get used to the idea that he’s not Logan, that he is unique and special to me in his own way. He knows that it will take time for me to shake off the black of being a widow. We (potential boyfriend and I) have another ‘meeting’ tonight. It’s still – 12 hours away and I’m already thinking about it!!

OMG! How pathetic! I feel like an angsty teenager.

>deep breath<

The ‘date’ is after rock climbing class and I don’t want to appear rattled after class, after spending an hour and a half –

Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to do rock climbing now? It’s – maddening because he’s so close and yet at the same time so far.

Um, yeah.

Now might just be a good time to name the guy, right? I’ve been – gushing (was I gushing?) about this whole situation for the last – 1700 words (or something like it) and I’ve not even mentioned his name.

OK.

 

It’s Nik.

 

*#*

Drunk on Champagne and Tears

Posted: October 29, 2010 in Lovelife

Today marks my first wedding anniversary.

For many, this is a joyous occasion, one filled with love, contentment, hapless bliss and sex. Lots and lots of sex.

Not so for me.

For those of you who don’t know the story, I’ll give you the short version.

Logan and I got married.

We were deliriously happy in our abundant wild sex, emotionally fulfilling, boundless laughter filled marriage.

We had plans.

But Life is cruel and at the ripe old age of 26, Logan was taken from me.

It was an aneurysm.

He went out to buy some milk for my cat after I asked him to and he died on the third floor stair well.

The real kicker in this whole tragedy is the fact that we were only married for five months, not even. Four months and three weeks, actually.

FUCK!!!

My WTF? friends know how I felt, how I still feel really. I cover up the heartache with bravado, jokes and flirtations but I’m still really, really hurt inside.

Logan ‘got’ me, you know?

He understood me, encouraged me, supported me, chastised me, carried me. He loved me and my own little fucked way of doing things. He was patient with me, more so than anyone I know. He used to do everything I asked of him, no matter how great or meaningless with such – spirit and love that I would stare at him in wonder.

He wasn’t the best DIY man. I mean, how the fuck to you install a flat screen TV upside-down? Or paint yourself in a corner?

But he was brilliant. A chemical engineer and he was driven. He wanted to retire at fifty so we could ‘tour the world before we watched after the grandkids and died during a wild sex act at the age of 89’.

Well, it’s as I said. Today is my wedding anniversary and I’m celebrating alone. Although, I don’t know whether I’m celebrating or not.

I’m drinking champagne which is typically drunk at a celebration.

But I’m drinking it to get hopelessly drunk by nine this morning so that I can spend the rest of the day crying and sleeping.

Actually, I am already drunk but not drunk enough seeing as this is still coherent and spelling mistake free.

Tequila, here I come!

Happy anniversary Logan.

Love you babe.

*#*

Living via Compartments

Posted: October 22, 2010 in Family Dynamics, Lovelife

For those that didn’t know, it was my birthday on the 20th and I turned 26!

HOO  —–  RAY!!!!

I love b-days. There’s something strangely exciting, thrilling, awe-inspiring, dread-filling and beautiful about getting a year older. I don’t know what it is; perhaps it’s the human psyche of ‘Holy shit! I survived another year! WOW!!!’

Anyway, as we partied (and believe me, we partied!) I couldn’t help but notice that, even though I have a diverse variety of friends (work friends, rock climbing friends, childhood friends, drinking friends, friends who, by all rights, should have been shot but are still hanging around!) they all remained knotted together in their various categories.

A  drinking buddy, for example, didn’t mix with the rock climbing gang and vice versa.

Like oil and vinegar, tar and feathers, a Persian rug and red wine, children and chocolate syrup.

I was left to pierce the veil of ‘sort with sort’ attitude and spent a considerable amount of time having to circulate around my own party, trying to get the diverse flavors to combine into a virtual culinary delight of ‘awesomeness’ which would have hard to beat.

It was tiring.

Needless to say, the party was awesome anyway despite a hiccup or three along the way. Telling a married woman that you’d like to ‘see how she rolls’ isn’t met with laughs, especially if said married woman is Nora and the husband in question is Sebastian.

Also, ‘nearly’ spilling red wine on my genuine Persian rug is again, not a laughing matter! It is a bona fide way of getting your ass thrown out of my apartment. And I’ll do it myself, have no fucking fear about that! There are few things in this world that I cherish more than that rug. It was a gift from my aunt who I loved very, very much.

The only thing that is worse than that, is if you threaten to ‘slap the cat’.

By God, man!

You don’t hear me threatening to ‘slap the child’ do you?!

No-one and I mean NO-ONE slaps my Binx. I will firstly, punch your fucking lights out, then I’ll let Binx have a go at you. I shit you not!

Right, after hiccups were sorted, we continued to party into the wee hours of the morning. It was just after my last guests left at three in the morning, that i realized, I am living my life in compartments.

Compartment 1. Work.

Compartment 2. Rock climbing.

Compartment 3. Family.

Compartment 4. Recreation.

Compartment 5. The not-so-good habits and friends that I sometimes see.

I then (due to FUCKING insomnia!) set myself in front of the laptop and with a drink in one hand, a plate of leftovers beside me and Binx purring on my lap, I saw that, even my emails have been compartmentalized.

WORK

WEbook

James Aarvarkian

Nancy Spirit Lights the Way

Paula Reflections

Inkslingers

Missy Clark

Family

Naughty

Rock climbing

Getaways

See?

Compartments.

Why do we, as humans, do that?

Why do we split everything up?

Green veggies, reds, blues, yellows?

Is it to make life easier so we can say, ‘OK, today I will tackle the WORK aspect. Tomorrow the FUN aspect’?

What if there is no tomorrow? Shouldn’t we try to live every aspect, every day?

All I know is, my compartments are getting crowded and they are starting to ‘infringe’ on my other compartments.

Someday soon, they’ll have to blend and when they do, boy or boy am I going to be in for a surprise!!

*#*