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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Naomi's LiveJournal:

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Sunday, July 2nd, 2006
10:49 pm
It's been a long time...
A lot has happened since I wrote on here back in March last year. Back then, I'd been gone a few weeks and was getting used to life in the real world again. I think it's good that I didn't know just how much I'd have to deal with then, otherwise I may just have bottled out and not taken that fantastic chance to live again.

I saw the doc the other week. He said I'd been through a life changing event so it was only natural that there's some underlying depression and anxiety and mentioned the dreaded PTSD. Sighs, like I don't know that. As I agreed at the time with the other doc, what I was feeling was normal given the nature of what happened.

I said to Dad the other day that a lot of what happened last summer is blurred. Hardly surprising given the stupid letters, the financial mess and trying to put my life back together. It's strange though because of all the practical issues I had to resolve a lot of the healing I'd have embarked upon was put on hold. It's only really this year that I've started to touch on some of those things.

I may write more later.
Thursday, March 10th, 2005
12:24 am
You Don't Know Me...
...if you did, you would know how I love you...

so sang Carole Bayer Sager a long long time ago. Not that I'm listening to her, I was just reminded for a moment when I thought do I put an update of sorts on here. I't's been a Rufus Wainwright evening here because as much as I love listening to O, I really don't think I'd have been able to skip past the Blower's Daughter and had I listened to it lord knows what I'd have done. Hmmm...that sounds just a tad melodramatic, but it's been a funny kind of day today. I was walking along this lunchtime and so many memories washed over me. The past is another country, right? Unfortunately, it's too much in my present and it better not be in my future. Time is a funny thing, linear, planar or just plain ticking on on the hands of a watch or watching the hands of time. Sighs. I'd better stop this nonsense or I'll start fooling around with words all night. Still, at least mine aren't aimed to confuse and bewilder.

A lot has happened since I last wrote. I'm not going to share much of it right now, maybe never will do because some of it is just too painful and horrible to put down.

I'm on my own. Again. I won't say I'm through with love. I'm through with him. And the lies, and destruction and the cruel mindgames. I've made a move of sorts and am moving on but so much is unsaid, unresolved, unfinished. I'd like to stamp my feet and the dust off my boots (grins, 'cept the boots are in storage, like so many of my things) and not look back. He told me he still loved me and wanted to marry me. That was a couple of hours after he'd been screaming at me. I was trying to pack. He said I was rejecting him. I thought I'd made that clear when I said I didn't want to live with him anymore, that no matter how much Iloved him we were not working. I didn't trust him. How could I after he'd told so many lies and the biggest one of all he'd perpetuated for over a year and a half. Even then he only told me part of the truth. He refused to accept that I'd moved on a false premise. I can handle the truth. Lies, they are far more damaging. I told him I couldn't forgive him. I don't know if I ever will.

Stolen time. Ah, well I'm alive and living again, everything seems a little strange. Dad said it's time to get some reality back...it certainly takes time getting used to it. Time to climb up to bed now.
Wednesday, June 2nd, 2004
12:46 am
Sometimes I think...
...I'm turning into my mother! Ha! I know it's not true, but I was lying in bed earlier and random thoughts were passing through my mind. Like a comment I remember her saying, “Well, you’ve a funny way of showing it” which could refer to all kinds of things. Hmmm…now I can’t quite remember how that popped into my head, but it did. Thankfully, I’m not turning into my mum, my dad or anyone else. I’m just me, same ol’ me.

I suppose I should give the edited highlights and lowlights of the past few months. Christmas. New Year. Not the best I care to remember. I never did get to see Anything Goes as Chris was having an op early January on the very day I was meant to be down in London. Still, my godmother, my favourite auntie Jean went in my place. She loved it and wandering around Chinatown and everything else. I got a CD of the cast recording which was lovely. In February I attempted my driving test for the first time and failed. In March it was another year older but I definitely don’t know about wiser. Chris bought me some lovely presents, as did my folks and Eddie; mostly Bagpuss related which was fun. And a new watch which I can actually wear without my skin freaking out which is useful. Ok! So it’s lovely and a whole lot else.

Come the end of March I had my second attempt at the driving test. I failed again. I was so pissed off because when I ‘phoned to rebook they said it’d be mid-June for the earliest test. Well, I wasn’t having that, so I spent the whole week ringing the DSA and eventually managed to get a test at the end of April. This time I passed! I did my Pass Plus course too and sure, the lower insurance costs is a nice benefit but I wanted some motorway driving with someone there – well with Jo, my instructor. All fine and dandy. A week later I was off down the A1 and M1 to Barnsley to get my hair cut. On the way back popped down a junction to see Trev for a coffee and a natter which was really cool – first time I’ve ever driven away from his house. Now he’s driven me away from there plenty of times - and no, not with a pitchfork – but me, driving! Huge smiles. I’ve not been out and about as much as I’d have liked though as predictably Chris said, the first time I was off out on my own, “O, I suppose that means I’ll never see you now…”. Typical! What makes it worse is he has gone off to Yeadon and gawd only knows elsewhere so many times and I’ve not moaned on and on and yet the slightest little “I’m just going out for a quick spin” seems to send him into panic mode. All immaterial at the moment as the car needs fixing – there’s something wrong with the gearbox and possibly oil we think – so it’s going in later this week. Thing is, it’s only done just over 5 thousand miles, is still under warranty so it’s all a bit puzzling, especially as it seems ok. Anyhow, it’ll get sorted.

Hmmm…as for the rest, well still not…still not…still not…well – there’s just so much unfinished. There are times when I put it all to the back of my mind and get on with living. There are times when I seem to be peeking in that little box and sighing and worrying and wondering and then think, “Sod it! Get on with things!” And sometimes I feel as if I’m living in a void. Maybe, I’m avoiding living. I can’t say I just exist, because it doesn’t feel like that but it feels like I’m living a half life, a twilight life.

Sometimes I try not to think much at all.

Current Mood: awake
Sunday, December 14th, 2003
11:31 pm
So tired...
Actually, I'm not that tired, just a little weary.

It's been a long time since I wrote here and I'm not sure I can be bothered with the chronological update at this hour. I do want to say a few things though.

I've been learning to drive the last few months and passed my theory test the other day. I got 100% in the multiple choice theory part (that's 35/35) and 60/75 in the hazard perception. Jo, my instructor said that's good enough to be an instructor - they need 33/35 and 55/75 in the 2 parts of the test. I was very pleased with my result and know I've still some way to go as I've the practical to pass yet, still halfway there.

We've still not got married. And no, we've still not even registered at the registry office.

I miss having my own money. Let's face it, after working for as long as I did I was used to running my life. I'm in no mood to go over finances right now though. If things aren't resolved in the next 6 months I'll resolve them one way or another.

I just keep remembering that George Harrison line, "All things must pass."

One thing I'm definitely looking forward to is going to London early in the new year. I'm off with my folks to see Anything Goes and spend a couple of nights there. It'll be so good to be back in my favourite place.

I'm off to bed now. Early start tomorrow up to Rosedale Abbey and then on to the coast.
Saturday, June 14th, 2003
1:20 am
Damn! I have hiccups. Annoying or what? How am I supposed to smoke a last cigarette and sleep if I have hiccups? Answers on a postcard...actually, no need to answer, just rambling on here...
1:19 am
Trains and rain...
I miss London so dreadfully. I really do. I miss the sounds of trains all through the day but especially at night. I remember laying awake some nights hearing the clang-clanging of the bell at the crossing and then the rattle of the train as it pulled past on it’s way to Waterloo or Charing Cross, Rochester, Gravesend, Dartford or some other place in deepest darkest Kent. Ok, so maybe Kent isn’t that far off, well it wasn’t then when I lived at the Dolls House, but now, some two hundred miles away in (here I go again…) deepest darkest North Yorkshire it could be Guatemala.

I’ve been dreaming of the Dolls House lately. I recall those Saturday mornings when I popped pain au chocolat in the oven, made coffee and minutes later I’d tenderly hold them as I bit into the hot flaky pastry, the chocolate oozing out the edges, savouring every sweet delicious bite. My strong sweet coffee would be lukewarm as I lit another cigarette and avidly scoured the newspapers. Birds would be singing, cars revving, children screeching along the pavement outside my dear little flat. I’d stand at the kitchen window watching the world go by as I contemplated going shopping, watching the racing or a film or just lying on the floor daydreaming listening to music. If I remembered, I’d switch on Jonathan Ross on the radio and laugh at his outrageous banter with his guests or about some personality, more often or not though about himself. If I were still sprawled on the carpet come lunchtime I’d be on the ‘phone to my mum or dad.

I remember the way the sun streamed through the window and if I was watching television I’d draw those green velvet curtains, otherwise it was impossible to see the picture. Not that it has that good a picture anyway - the reception really was quite pitiful as I had only an antennae aerial that I moved from the top of the T.V. to the carpet to the top of my computer monitor. Otherwise the picture was all at sea, all wobbly lines, fuzz and sparkly bits.

Then there was the way the rain hammered down on the flat roof or beat against the windows. Ah, and the funny way it dripped from the inside of the kitchen window if it was a particularly heavy downpour in that direction. I used to love watching the rain trickle down the windowpanes. Come to think of it, I always have loved watching that and the sound and smell of rain no matter where I’ve lived.

There’s something magical about rain in London though. Maybe it’s the river, maybe it’s the pollution, or the way the buildings and parks, the cars and buses, trains and people all jostle for space, but it dances over everyone and everything and makes it all come to life. No, that’s not quite right. For it’s always seemed to me that London is alive, supercharged, even when it’s sleeping. Maybe, what I’m trying to say is that it feels like you can hear it breathing. Taste and smell it breathing. Yes, that sweet, salty, earthy, dusty vibrant urgent breathing. Dull grey skies, rain spattered streets, fast moving river and the ever present sprays of colour as red buses, black cabs, white, yellow and neon lights and all those blurs of people flash by. And above the cacophony of voices, music, traffic, sirens, pigeons, banging and drills the constant hiss of rain and concrete, rain and tarmac mingling.

I used to love watching from my office window as the rain fell on the Thames. You could see the little light blinking on top of Canary Wharf, but the triangle top (it often made me think of the green triangle in Quality Street – was it the art deco feel it had?) would disappear behind clouds; sometimes, wispy shreds, other times thick and heavy as a duvet. Well, whoever coined the phrase, blanket of fog, knew what they were talking about. The ignominious Dome sat fat and heavy, it’s crown of red lights blinking.

I may recall more of rainfall some other day. For now though I’m going to bed. Well, I’ll smoke another cigarette, and then rest my weary head.
Thursday, May 22nd, 2003
5:19 pm
Hello Again
I have a dog groaning at my feet, so my posting this hour shall be short but sweet?

So much has happened since last I wrote. My life has been turned upside down, inside out, back to front and all the other cliches you can think of pertaining to someone in love. Is that a wry smile on my lips? Maybe a contented one too despite my longing for London remaining. Was it depression, is it nostalgia or something more? I don't know. All I can do is say it's an ache, one that I'm learning to live with.

Time to go. The pooch has stomped off and is now circling my room - she likes all the nooks and crannies betwixt desk and bookcases, filing cabinets, stereo. The groaning is not abating so it must be feeding or walkies time.

As that strange dude with the boots, clothes and motorcycle said, "I'll be back".

Current Mood: tired
Thursday, March 14th, 2002
9:08 pm
This mess we're in...
Another year older, another year wiser

Hmmmthat remains to be seen. Not that Im yet another year older, just almost there.

Well, its been a long time since I wrote so Ill skip over the traces of my recent past. Skip? That sounds far too light, come to think of it theres not been an awful lot of light in my life of late.

What with the indigos hitting in January (God, I really wanted to die at times, only thoughts of family and one or two friends kept me safe), a meddling friend and this cold grey weather Ive not been my most sociable self. Not that Ive not made an effort. Come the beginning of February I dragged myself out of bed early one dismal rainy Saturday morning to go to Oxford. I had a nice, albeit uneventful, day. The highlight was eating cake and drinking tea in some tiny coffee shop. Still, Ill be thankful for Mark for being there when I was at one of my lowest ebbs. The following week Ian came down. He cut my hair on the Friday evening and we slobbed out in front of trashy tv programmes. We tripped around Covent Garden in the morning, ate lasagne and drank coffee and mooched around the shops. Later, we saw My Fair Lady (very enjoyable it was too despite terribly cramped seats). Sunday found us listening to my crazy CD collection as he said he couldnt stop laughing at how eclectic my tastes are. Then he was back up north for a date that never materialized. Hmmmthats men for you. The following week saw me jaunting up to Leicester for Auntie Dot and Uncle Daves Ruby Wedding do. That was lovely - fabulous food, great company and lots of wine and laughter. Oooh! Mummys Sunday Roast (beef, Yorkshire puddings the works in other words) before I made my south again.

Ah, kinda forgot to mention the review with Ken & Gary (they still think Im marvellous, they gave me a pay rise) sometime around then. Works pretty good actually, busy, interesting and hell, it keeps me occupied and out of trouble.

The weekend after that I was supposed to meet up with Geoff. Never happened as I had a strange voicemail left for me. You know the weird crappy things that sometimes happen and you think, Uhhhwhy me? Well, it was like that. Lesley left me a message saying, Oh, I think I might have some interesting news for you about a mutual acquaintance of oursunless of course, you are the lady in questionI wonder. She left another desperate message the following day, trying to get hold of me to spill her wonderful news. Of course, I knew she was referring to Jon and guessed hed met someone else. Twisted way of telling me though. When I did speak to her she said Sally had saidetc etcwell, suffice to say it was third hand news and that hed met someone and moved her in to live with him. Fast work said Heather to me, either that or hed been involved with her some of the time hed been with me. Huh! Not that I was that important. Anyway, I had been expecting it, so although the way Lesley took delight in being the bearer of bad news was shocking, the news itself was not. I could feel her disappointment when she didnt get her desired reaction. Heigh ho. Funny, but Ive not heard a thing from her since.

Later that week my computer died well the casing did. So, I got on the phone to Trevor who was such a darling and agreed to come and build me a new one. So, I apologized in a no explanations, just had a shit time way to Geoff about not meeting up. Then it was another weekend ahead so I toddled off to Bluewater to buy pressies for Mum (birthday and Mothers Day) and then mooched around the rest of the time. Trev arrived very late on Sunday and stayed to fix said computer. We crashed out on Monday night eating enchiladas and drinking tea. Later that week it was off to the JCWI course on Immigration Law & Practice, which was a bit of a hoot considering their information on work permits was woefully out of date. I got to speak quite a bit and the first day Sam and I met up with her friend Brendan and got rather drunk in Wetherspoons in Holborn. The following day when we got off from the course early (thank god, it was frightfully dull and tough going that afternoon) we dawdled around the shops in Canary Wharf. I arranged for flowers to be delivered to Mum for Mothers Day and they arrived early Saturday morning. She was so happy and it was lovely to hear they were absolutely gorgeous and smelled divine.

Come Saturday lunchtime Id arranged to meet up with Geoff for dinner that evening (something spicy I said, yup, Lebanese food sounded good). I bumped into Jon online who made no mention of said girlfriend, just that hed been in Singapore on business the week before and itd been interesting. Who cares, I hope hes happy. I fell asleep in the bath and ended up running around frantically trying to dry my hair and get ready so that I wouldnt be horrendously late. I rang Geoff who told me to calm down and stop panicking, to call him when I arrived in Hammersmith. Ok, so I ended up being an hour later than originally planned and saw all the people arriving to see Jack Dee and thought, Sheesh! If Id remembered Id have liked to have seen him. Oh well, shame about Suzanne Vega too Geoff said she was coming to the Hammersmith Apollo too (day before my birthday) but Eddies here then so itd be unfair to bugger off and anyway, tis too late to get tickets now.

We went to Chez Marcelle, the little Lebanese restaurant nearby and scoffed lovely stuffed lamb and other assorted goodies, chatted amiably for a few hours then had a drive around. Rather than rush around for a train, I stayed over at Geoffs. It was lovely and sad and horrible in so many different ways. There was one point where he was asking me about dreams and asked if theyd all been crushed, dreams are different to plans. He said, Ah, have I hit a nerve? and I started to cry. He really is a good man. We had a lot of fun that Sunday.

I went to Yoga for the first time in ages this Monday and really enjoyed it. I intend going regularly again which is good. I want to start walking home from work again too still too dark and cold at the moment though. Not a lot else to report (well Im sure there is, just I cant be bothered to say anything about it) so I think Ill push off and rustle up something in the kitchen. Chinese of some description, I think.

Current Mood: contemplative
Saturday, January 19th, 2002
11:13 pm
As long as it takes...
I had an interesting conversation with Ian earlier this evening. He asked me, "Why are you putting a time limit on yourself?" I said it served two purposes. Firstly, I can use it to fend off people whom I think little more than a passing fascination with me. More importantly, it makes me stop and think and not simply react to the loneliness. Not that I'm utterly in despair or anything, though I know I've had days and moments where I have despaired. I think sometimes it's more a case of being used to being on my own again. This is laughable as when I look at what I had with J it was little more than a sham. I mean for chrissakes, he didn't love me. Ha! I want a love that is not lopsided.

I digress. Back to what Ian was saying, there is no need for any time bar. So although I may be cautious, I'm not really hiding myself away from the world. I've not run away this time.

I'm going to bed. I'm tired.
1:23 am
This has been a bizarre week that's flown by and yet felt at times to be so very long. What with grumbles from all about the new contracts we've been issued, lots of work, my yoga class being completely booked up and idiots around, I've somtimes felt so very alone.

J doesn't talk anymore. He thinks I'm fooled by his platitudes that he's not around, but I know he is and I'm sure (green-eyed monster speaking here) that he's dallying with someone. I hope he treats her better than he did me. And I'm sure she's been there tonight.

I shouldn't be thinking like this. I should be more philosophical about it all, but right now I feel like kicking over the traces. I'm bloody annoyed, angry with myself. My dazzled eyes refused to see...

Sigh. Why didn't I listen to myself? Why, when I ran away from him for those few days did I run just as quickly back? Why didn't I just wait. If I had would we have made such a mess of everything? Of course, there's no point going over it ad nauseum. I did what I did and I guess I just learned the hard way. There's all these questions floating around in my head though, like does he ever wonder? Does he care at all? Ha! I'll bet he doesn't give it a moments notice. And yes, I know this sounds very bitter. I'm not. I'm just sad. Disillusioned. World weary. Sweet ennui, huh?

He thought he knew me very well. He only saw what he wanted to see and that tiny bit I'd allowed him to see. He said he wasn't interested (ok, not quite as bluntly as that - but it all adds up the same) so that was all he was ever going to see. Know me...I don't think so. If he did, he would've known how much I looked forward to talking with him, seeing him smile, hearing that quiet laugh of his.

I'm rambling. I don't care. This may not be purple prose but it's how I feel. A jumbled mess of raw tangled nerves. Exposed and yet unseen. Forgotten.

Current Mood: desolate
Wednesday, January 16th, 2002
1:00 am
Letting go...
It's been a funny old day. I crawled out of bed after eight this morning and stumbled around my flat dressing, drinking coffee and smoking the inevitable cigarette. I arrived at the office a little after nine and got straight down to work. Lunchtime arrived pretty quickly and I skipped down the stairs, rang Lesley on my mobile and had a lively conversation about people we encounter sometimes. It makes me laugh so much that people purporting to know what they are, what they want merely masquerade and are something entirely different.

When J first spoke to me he said he was looking for a 24/7 relationship. If he'd told me he was looking for a quick, albeit intensive, tangle I'd have not have met him. I can only blame myself really, the signs were there to see in some ways, and yes, I'll admit I deluded myself and that my dazzled eyes refused to see. I'm angry and hurt all the same. He knew how I feel about deceit. Ok, so he told me no lies, but he omitted to tell me how he screwed around all the time he was with the supposed love of his life. He knew what G had done. Ok, so I didn't go into all the sordid details, but he knew enough from what I'd told him that G had deceived me and how it had left me feeling crushed. I'd told him that I didn't know if I could face that sort of pain again. And I fooled myself that everything was going to be all right between us.

It wasn't. It isn't. Even now, he persists in saying things like, "I'm not always here" when I know he's just ignoring me. And as for that malarky about being friends! Well, it just goes to show we all have different definitions of friendship. Still, at least he's not haunting my dreams every night now. Ok, he's there most nights, but not every single night which means just occasionally I sleep. I'll not say it's undisturbed, it's not. But he's not looming so large, which is a blessed relief.

I still miss him. You'd think that as time moves on it would get easier but it doesn't. It's not getting worse, but it's not fading, the sepia tint hasn't crept around the edges yet. And I still find myself crying unexpectedly, it's not raging sobs, more a realisation that my face is wet from the tears.
Sunday, December 30th, 2001
11:55 pm
Why live life from dream to dream...
...and dread the day when dreaming ends...

One day I'll fly away...

Sighs. I wish.

If only I could escape in sleep. He invades my dreams. I'm coming to dread sleeping as he appears without fail there like he has never done in my waking moments.
Sunday, December 16th, 2001
11:00 pm
I'm so tired
I remember sunlit mornings when he made me smile, soft laughter and tender words that kissed my heart. 'Twas all a dream though, some foolish fancy who tripped into my life and danced merrily through my mind. And let me fall.

Would I decline that walk in the park if time spun back to those dragonfly days? No. And it's not that I'm with Tennyson on this one, just that beauty and truth shone brightly for a few hours of midsummer magic.

I found words back then. I'm finding life difficult. Now I don't seem to be able to say anything. It all comes out wrong.

Today we were talking about Christmas and how we'd be spending it. I said maybe one day I'd have my own place (yes, I know I've this tiny flat but it's not big enough to have them here for Christmas) and that they'd come and see me instead of me going there. He said he hoped that would happen, not only in my own place but with my kids too. Ah, so easy for him to say. I'm not the easiest person to know. And what's he say to that? Your heart is in the right place, that much I do know.

He seems blissfully unaware how I feel.
Thursday, November 29th, 2001
1:37 am
Guess it's clear he's gone...
Im ready to confess all the things that I never thought I could feel

Ive listened to that line so much the last day. Theres no point confessing though, he doesnt want to know. It would trouble him to know so Ill keep my counsel. Tell no one. Cept Im torn between trying to shake the dust off my shoes and sitting down in the middle of the road, on the river path, anywhere I happen to be. And as I rest my head and hug my knees to my chest, letting the tears fall slowly, silently.

Round midnight he said to me, naomi, hello and goodnight, xx. Ah, my love may be more precious than rubies but it could be sawdust for all hes concerned. I remember sitting before him one afternoon and him tapping the side of my head and saying, I want to know whats going on in here, I want to know what makes you tick. Hmmmhe didnt delve very far. He told me once, You underestimate me. I dont think so. I think I understand too well.

Poignant, self-pitying, sublime are the tears Ive shed. Im going around in circles. I feel lost in a never-ending maze. When Ive walked before its been easy. Yes, theres been a twinge, a sad acknowledgement of what might have been, but this time Im finding it so hard. I want to cling so much to this hope, yet I know I have to let go, to move on. I want it to snow, a blanket thrown over my world muffling the sound of me breaking. Instead November skies are grey, sodden decaying leaves cover the paths and I want to turn back to that evening in September as the sun dipped in the sky, the air faintly chilly. I can still see that amazing smile light up his face as he recognized me.

Someone read something Id written earlier and said to me, A thought of my shores would be an excellent start. I asked him why hed said hello. He told me. I remember sunlit mornings when he made me smile, soft laughter and tender words that kissed my heart, then said, its a lovely line. I told him that when first I moved to London last year I used to avoid looking at the tube map. I hated seeing where we'd first met so publicly emblazoned on trains and walls everywhere.

Funny, but if I thought the pain of Gareth telling me he loved Petra more than me was bad, its nothing compared to how I feel about walking away from him.

I dont want to go.

Current Mood: wounded
Thursday, November 15th, 2001
10:48 pm
A Year On...
Well, I've been down here a year now. Funny, but I thought my mum and dad would've commented but they haven't. Neither has anyone else come to think of it. Except me.

So, what's changed, what's new since then?

Well, I settled into my new job well, found a flat I like enough to have extended the tenancy agreement again and dallied a little with the stronger sex. I sometimes wonder though whether men are stronger. Physically, yes, but emotionally, mentally, spiritually, intellecutally? Dunno.

I've learnt a lot about myself, my desires and my needs. I don't know if I'm really any the wiser, but I've certainly enjoyed myself, and that's the ups, the downs and the completely spun arounds!

I still look out over the river every day and wonder how I came here. I still love too much. Then again, that's just me.

Oh, and I love yoga. I enjoy that so much.

G'night world. It's difficult sometimes living, being but it's good nonetheless.
Thursday, October 18th, 2001
11:45 pm
Not a lot to say really. I've taken up yoga, had my haircut, had 3 crowns fitted and that's about it really.
Tuesday, September 4th, 2001
11:45 pm
So who's been a grouch pot the last couple of days. Yup, me. Work's been hectic and tiring, I guess I'm just ready for my hols. And it's bad enough without my mum 'phoning me first thing in the morning demanding had I read her text messages, where was I last night etc etc etc.

Sigh. She calmed later and sent me another text message that was more cheery and didn't send my hackles up. God, I dunno, I was just feeling pulled apart. Nice chat with Eddie tonight and he's fine about not coming down here when we're both off on leave. He's happy enough to see me for however long I'm up at the folks. Sorted my Christmas haircut with Ian this lunchtime and also one inbetween early October.

Trev's gone to Wales. Hope he has fun.

Oh, and last Friday I was out with Sam and Dave to see ......... Ha! Jokes abounded about getting the family lawyers onto them about the name thing. Hey ho, they were technically proficient but not awe inspiring. The meringue clad drummer (yes she was female) was amusing and we still think they all looked like they'd wandered off the set of Planet of the Apes. Uhh...except the drummer who looked like some tripped out teenage werewolf dude. Ok, so I'm exaggerating.

And no, the bastard hasn't called. Time to knock that one on the head methinks. Maxwell's silver hammer? Nice idea...

God, I watch some drivel sometimes. There's some crap about alien abductions on the telly right now. I say watch, really I'm not, it's just on. Bloody stupid rubbish.

Well tomorrow England play Albania. I doubt it'll be as exciting as the England-Germany match (I danced around the room in my flat watching that on Saturday night). Tomorrow we're watching it at Zero Degrees as Alan arranged drinks for then. Ho hum.

I'm off to sleep. G'night to another day in nowheresville.
Thursday, August 30th, 2001
12:00 am
Ok, ok...so I'm an impatient wretch
An impatient wretch and a tired one at that. But I know trouble melts like lemon drops so I'll remember Glinda the Good and close my eyes, click my heels together and believe. I'm smiling here. Smiling at the memory of when Dad took me to see that magical double-bill - tom Thumb and The Wizard of Oz. And yes, i hid behind the seats (no I didn't get on the floor, I was stood up because I was so excited so kinda crouched down, my little hands clutching the seat in front of me. Of course I wasn't scared! I'd got my Dad sat next to me. What a fabulous Saturday afternoon that was. I didn't go kicking and screaming that day (not like when my poor Mum dragged me along the seafront to see Mary Poppins, bribed me with peach melba ice cream - and all because I'd wanted to stay and play with Simon on the beach). Mum was in London for the weekend so Dad took me to the pictures for a treat. God! It was fantastic. Mum bought me a snowstorm with a London bus in it that moved along in front of Buckingham Palace. I was so pleased, so proud of that snowstorm that I took it to nursery with me the next week. And that little horro climbed to the top of the climbing frame and dropped it...on purpose. Miss Lamb tut-tutted and said I shouldn't have brought it in anyway. I said I only wanted to show everybody and theres was no need for her (the little monster) to drop it on purpose. All shrugged off, probably to stem my tears. Next time I'm in the City I might pop into one of those shops that seels all the tourist tat (c'mon admit it, we all indulge in this tat buying nonsense) and see if I can find another snowstorm like that one.

Hope. I've gotta live up to my name.
Wednesday, August 29th, 2001
11:09 pm
When will you make my phone ring?
Why are men so useless when it comes to phone calls? If its not three times in an evening every evening (or morning or afternoon for that matter) its exactly on time every time or leaving you half gasping like a fish struggling for air or slowly curling up one yourself like a wilting flower. Youre either stifled and exhausted, left feeling like youve some clock watching freak on your hands or some sadistic, or worse, uncaring bastard who doesnt give a damn. Men are from Mars eh? Huh! Sometimes I wonder if theyre even in the same universe, it certainly feels like some weird parallel universe at times.

Yes. Im pissed off waiting. Bloody pissed off and depressed and feeling neglected. Ergo I am neglected.

I tried pretending I was find and dandy, tripping on the water like the laughing girl. I tried consoling myself with his muttered comment to himself as he switched off his mobile and said, Shes not going to call. Shes here as we sat in the pub last week. He said hell call, so why the fuck hasnt he? Am I being unreasonable to expect him to call? I dont bloody think so. Even anger isnt working though. I just feel small and defenceless, vulnerable. And Ive got a cold and horrid earache.

Current Mood: neglected
Monday, August 27th, 2001
9:39 pm
Something cool...
Well, I wore the coal grey silk dress, stockings and heels and was surprised at how many people stared at me. Ok, so it was just after five when I trotted along the river path, but on the tube? I arrived with a couple of minutes to spare, looked around and couldn't see him anywhere and then there he was, stood by the railings in front of me. I hardly saw the people in front of me as I moved past them to greet him. Weird.

Anyway, drinks in some pub or other (I really don't have a clue where it was, just that it was just around the corner from the Pizza Express in Dean Street. He asked me what i wanted to drink. I said, "Something cool" to which he replied, "You've got me". ;o) Chatted, as engrossing as ever but this time none of the rules he mentioned before. I was too interested in what he was saying to notice at the time. Later we made our way on to see Scott Hamilton and chums (really remiss of me but I can't remember their names). Arrived at the door and he pointed out his booking. Hmmmso I got to find out his full name as well as where he worked (he'd told me that he works as freelance consultant for a PR firm of which he's also a Director). So pizza, wine and more chat then it was time to settle back and listen to the jazz. They were fantastic. They played Love Letters, When I Fall in Love, Sweet and Lovely, well loads of songs and they were excellent. All to soon it was over and just like Judy Garland saying, "No, I don't ever wanna go home," I was being steered to a taxi. Well it was after midnight - he offered to drop me somewhere but I needed to be ensconced in a cab really, though his arms would have been mighty fine. He said he'll call me, I said will you? He said yes.

So, it was home, feeling bewitched, bothered and bewildered. I dawdled into work and arrived at 9:47am to find the door shut and the buzzer not working - had to call them on my mobile to let me in! Strange feelings all weekend. Today dawned better though and I've amused myself with musicals since this afternoon. First I watched The Sound of Music on tv (and yes, I blubbed at the appropriate moments), then listened to The King and I, Oklahoma!, Carousel and South Pacific. Now I've got Mack and Mabel on. I think I'll listen to My Fair Lady, West Side Story, Damn Yankees and Bells Are Ringing too. I actually ate dinner for the first time in a week too. Ok, so I ate dinner with Ian the other night, but I mean here, on my own.

I think I'll try 'phoning one of the women Ali gave me the names of - the ones who do belly dancing classes. I need to get out more.

I won't send roses, but roses suit you so. I'd like a postcard from Venice, that'd be a start.

Current Mood: calm
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