When is Christmas going to arrive?

So, on my last day before the holidays…We still hope that we will be home before 6 0’clock, if only because the telephone stopped ringing three days ago…Apparently the secretary is taking the afternoon off, and me? The boss has just called to let me know that he will be here soon…thanks!

Last night I went to the gym, all dressed pretty with my favourite tartan skirt, and boots, and I did work out well, joking as it is my way, with the S&S guy more affectionate than usual; I exchanged a few glances with the B&S guy, magnetised by his eyes…we ate some sweet pastries (I had one because I was between 10 minutes on the cross-trainer and 10 on the treadmill..), and after the work out I showered quickly, got back into my smart clothes, and went to the reception. First of all I paid for the lessons of the months. Now, and how sweet is this: I was doing my last 10 minutes on the bike, to conclude, and the S&S guy came over and said “Come on sweetheart, the Christmas discount is coming”, and he let me stop 2 minutes earlier. When I was at the reception to pay he made me pay for four lessons instead of five (and we spoke low, not to be heard, so I believe it was a sort of gift for me, in his own way) (awww). He gave me my change, and then I said I had a present, and got my cd out, with this beautiful cool cover I had prepared the night before; Ex-Possible-prey arrived that very minute, and with the S&S guy and the B&S guy they looked at my creation, so I received lots of thanks, a kiss and hug from E.P.P., B&S guy asked if I had signed it, and that I should have given it to them on my arriving so we could have listened to it together, they all stared at it, I was happy to see them surprised and happy. We fixed the next appointment, then the S&S guy came to the other side of the reception to kiss me and wish me the usual for xmas, and I left…without having the chance to kiss the B&S guy as I wanted to do, because he was fixing the appointment with Newly-Found-Friend, so all he could do was looking at me, say goodbye, “hey, best wishes, Peggy”, and I just wanted to go there, hug him, and leave. But no.
Once home I went to bed after eleven, only to wake up when I heard mother being back from the dinner with her colleagues; in a state of half-insomniac consciousness, I texted a few friends, and in particular three boy friends, to implore them to come with me to bride-to-be’s wedding, tomorrow! Of course…one of the friends texted was the B&S guy…I never give up.
Now the idea is, I doubt I’ll see him before the new year. I also doubt he will text me, say, on xmas day, or on new year’s eve…I don’t intend to text him either, of course, and am well prepared to hold my will and switch off the phone in case I feel this instinct rise. I keep on thinking that I don’t even know him, and it’s only the projection of an ideal boy I have in my mind, only this time it’s got his features, his colour, his voice. So it shouldn’t be too hard to get rid of it, right? I should use these holidays to focus on something else, and detox from the thought of everything I like in him, particularly the way he smiles at me and comes over to squeeze lightly my arm before kissing me goodnight. Particularly the way his eyes shine when I look at him.
Once again, a quick plan for the days to come, before going back to work…
Let’s begin with tonight: I may run a bit, depending on the time I’ll be allowed to leave…and then I’m going to the band, if only because I hope we can go for a drink after the rehearsals, and I hope we go for a drink somewhere where I may have the slightest chance to run into the B&S guy…
Tomorrow, the wedding! Still don’t know what to wear, what to do with my hair, still afraid I’ll have to spend the whole afternoon with university friends, their boyfriends, and their tales of success and love…fab…
Sunday I intend to sleep, clean the house, run a lot…and in the evening I’ll go for the xmas carols with the band. I should go in the afternoon too, but the thought of going to retirement houses and play for those people and feel miserable for the whole time is too much for me this year. I am a bad, bad person. Xmas is a hard time for me, and seeing those old people crying when we play typical songs, holding old dolls, smiling weakly…Seriously, it breaks my heart. But maybe I’ll just find the strength and go. I’m looking forward to the night, though, even though it will be freezing cold…
And then it’s xmas, and I don’t care about anything: I am going to run, take long walks, read, watch tv and go to the cinema, see some friends (hopefully), listen to the music and relax. Sleep a real lot.
Think pink and easy.
Hapy Christmas, everybody:-)

All work and no sleep make Peggy a snappy girl

Or rather…a zombie fairy…which would be quite interesting to see…(or not)
Honestly, I’ve come to the office today because I was sure that my boss would be here, and calling sick on the only day of the week when he’s supposed to be in may have looked a bit suspicious…But then, we get this phone call and it’s him, and we understand that no, we are free from his presence today too. People, I’m too tired to be happy….
Last night I went to the gym and worked out pretty well, except for the bit where I had to stand on a piece of wood with wheels, and lift one leg up, and stand…and stand…and stand…obviously while keeping the perfect posture..and at the same time trying not to fall as the S&S guy was throwing a green rubber ball at me and wanted me to throw it back at him…and at the same time while looking at the beautiful shape of the B&S guy’s figure working on somebody’s back, or talking, or concentrating on somebody’s posture to correct it…
Boy, is it bad.
End of the work out, shower, and I brought my special xmas cookies to the reception, but the B&S guy was not there, so I chatted amiably with the S&S guy and I left, going home feeling thin, fit, taller, full of love…
I went to bed, read and read and read, then the daydreaming was too strong to resist and I switched off the light and started visualising impossible events…Eventually I fell asleep, only to wake up at 3.30, with the well-known feeling of “no way back to sleep here, baby”. Curse.
I decided I would work out, because tonight I'll be too tired to run, and I swear that if it weren’t scary for me to go out in the dark streets, alone at that godless time of the day, I would have gone for a run. But no, I just worked out, a whole hour of jumping and stretching and whatever else I could think of.
When I went back to bed I was not wearing my night socks. I thought I would be warm enough with my cotton socks, but no. And since if my feet are cold I cannot sleep, and I could be on fire everywhere else, but if my feet are cold it’s damnation, then I tried to warm them up by curling up and turning and wrapping them in the blankets, but the sleep wouldn’t come to me. And when I finally felt that fantastic feeling of slowly falling into a warm sleep…yes, of course, the alarm clock went off…and a bad song too.
Good morning, everybody! And a good day to you too!

My colleague is bothering me now, and I am too tired to be kind and not snap and be annoyed by the way he behaves. For example when he says that there is no notice of holiday on the windows of the office, and this could mean that we may not close for xmas, then he laughs, the funny man! Or, he asked if I’ve been asked to come to work next week, and that I shouldn’t take it for granted that we're closed just because I’ve been sending emails about being closed for xmas.

I DON’T CARE!
I’M ON HOLIDAY, DO YOU HEAR ME?
FRIDAY IS MY LAST DAY AND THEN SEE YOU ON JANUARY 8TH!!!!!!!

My mobile will be off 24/7, I swear. I need to sleep and read and do some cross-stitch and walk and run and see my friends and cook and bake, and watch tv until I’m so bored that I could cry!

Plus, on with how annoying my colleague is, I DON’T CARE ABOUT HIS CHILDREN!!!!!! I don’t care if they sleep, are sick, even less if they have spent the night throwing up (do I need to know that???), or if his wife has worked overnight (well she’s a nurse, nurses have nightshifts, HELLO-O?).

All I care about is that it’s the third night in a week of non-sleep, and I am a bit frustrated by this situation. Like, if I had decided to call sick, I should have brought a certificate from the doctor, even if it’s just for a day! And what could my doctor do, ok, he could write the certificate and justify my ditching work for a day, but is it really worth? Not to mention the fact that I would be “told off” by mother because of my sleeplessness, because she would see me at home instead than at work and she would bother me and be worried, as if it were my fault if I cannot have a decent night’s sleep. And my doctor would probably tell me to drink a pint of chamomile and try to calm down. Thanks, doc!
Well, you know what? I’m going to complete all the mess I’ve started here, and if I cannot sleep tonight, I’ll call sick tomorrow, then go to my doctor and tell him to justify me for two days, so I can stay home on Thursday and Friday too! FUCK OFF, EVERYBODY, I NEED TO SLEEP.

This truly posh post brought to you courtesy of an endless night.

Christmas Cookies!

Baking time last night...It started with me and my simple idea of the cinnamon cookies, but as the mix needed to rest in the fridge for an hour I thought I would do something else while waiting, so I also prepared my "rocks", alternative version, with coconut and jam..It took me two hours to finish all, and the final result was satisfactory; I went to bed smelling cinnamon all around the house, and when I got up this morning the scent was still there. Beautiful; just perfect Christmas.
And luckily the holidays are getting closer..
Now, I thought I'd write down the recipe, which is so easy and "quick" (well, ok, you have to put the mix in the fridge for an hour, but that gives you time to do something else, right?).
Here we go then:

PEGGY'S CHRISTMAS COOKIES

What you need:

100 g honey
100 g sugar (cane sugar would be better, but white is just as fine)
100 g butter (unsalted, obviously)
350 plain flour
1 pinch baking soda
1 teaspoon ginger
cinnamon (Ok, adjust the amount of spices according to your taste, of course: like, the recipe says 1 ½ teaspoon cinnamon, but I usually put a loooot more…)
1 large egg (whole)

What you do:

Melt au bagnemarie sugar, honey and butter; leave to cool.
Mix flour, baking soda, ginger and cinnamon.
Add the blend of sugar-honey-butter, then the egg. Mix well, form into a ball, wrap in film and put in the fridge for about an hour.
After an hour it’s ready to be rolled onto the table and cut into pieces – I make big hearts, because I am romantic, and these are the cookies dedicated to my friends...But it’s Christmas, so maybe…stars? Trees? Just hey, don’t make them too thick, ok?
Put them in the oven, 180°-200°C, for 6 minutes, more or less. It depends on how big or thick they are; but 7 minutes are more than enough, trust me.
In the meantime you can prepare the gloss to cover them with: cold water and icing sugar (you don’t have icing sugar? Make it: take -some spoonfuls of- caster sugar and put it in the blender for some thirty seconds), mixed well together, and brushed over; then you can add fancy decorations (or not) and finally leave your creations to cool for an hour or less.

Yummilicious!

Catching up

Part One - December, 11th

More work in progress.. though only in my mind.
I am just back from another strange unsettling weekend, made of early wakes to the smell of black coffee and toast with marmalade, endless running, endless reading, and a rainy day spent wandering in the city with shop-a-holic friend and our random chat.
I have also been thinking and having epiphanies, one after the other, images streaming in my mind and waiting to be written down. My writer's notebook is going to be filled with ideas for that story that soon or late will see the light, properly. (Start planned on January 2007)
At the moment I am just desperately counting the days that separate me from the most longed holidays of the year, that season when all I want to do is cuddle up in my armchair (call it "my"...) with a book and classical music, and possibly sunny but freezing weather outside, like it is today.
Unsettling weekend, I have written, though it was unsettling only in that my mind has been overworking again, somehow seeing things as if they happened not to me, but to some estranged body that I happen to be confined in, not feeling it entirely mine, while slow hours have been flowing silently on my skin to be soon forgotten.

Part Two - December, 15th

There are moments I would like to remember, and this is why I write.
Last night I arrived slightly on time (as in, not early, not late, but not at 8.30 sharp. I was there in that limbo of time when some people are already there but the organisers of the event are not even in their car on the way).
I met the two girls I usually see on my gym nights. One of them at last asked me if I remembered her from high school, and we started chatting and remembering our past friendship; we ended up sitting at the same table with mother's colleague, and talking, updating our lives, chatting and laughing with our neighbouring friends. Our pizzas arrived on the table after 10 pm, and by then we were only half-way done with the things to say. The chatter in the room was unbelievable and unstoppable, all I could notice around me was the flash of a camera going around and taking pictures: it was the B&S guy's digital camera.
He arrived to our table and took a picture of us. He chatted amiably, joking, stopping here and there to talk more. When my pizza arrived I poured mountain of spice on it, because I love spicy food. The B&S guy and Ex-Possible-Prey were there, and joked on spice being an aphrodisiac, so mother's colleague said "well, she's single, she can afford that!", and I laughed, we all did, then they called the S&S guy, being my personal trainer, to continue with the joke, but all I wanted was to receive or give some sort of hint to the B&S guy that I would have liked HIM to be with me then.
The evening went on, and when desserts came the B&S guy took his plate and came over to me to ask me if all was ok, softly, almost whispering, as his hand touched my shoulder.
I ate my chocolate cake with pleasure, we cheered a few times, and then there was the lottery, where for every prize that was going to be drawn, Ex-Possible-Prey shouted to me that I was going to win it, and I hadn't even bought a ticket...We laughed and cheered as the prizes were given one after the other, then we decided it was time we went home. So up we stood, and put on our coats, and headed for the door, in the crowd of people going in and out, stopping to chat and say goodbye.
I wanted to say goodbye to the B&S guy but couldn’t bring myself to do it, because it would have looked suspicious, but my newly-found friend wanted it too, him being her personal trainer, so we found him and she said goodbye to him, receiving three kisses. I didn't expect to receive them too, I confess. I still think that everything I do shows how much I like him, and that wanting to kiss him goodbye would have proved once more that my interest for him is higher. But then he looked at me and bent over, to kiss me three times. I felt the warm beautiful roughness of his skin, for he had not shaved, I felt his hands on my arms as he pulled me gently to him. He said "Thank you, Peggy", and kissed me, I said "Thank YOU". I turned to leave, and he said "bye bye then", taking me by my left arm and my right shoulder, and my only instinct was to take his hand, when instead I should have turned to him to say goodbye once more.
I received three more kisses from Ex-Possible-prey, who said that they wanted me to win a price, and that next time I certainly will. We said goodbye, and outside the restaurant me and the newly-found friend from the past said goodnight and left.

Part Three - December, 18th

I still think about it. I still feel his unshaved dark cheek on my blushing cheek, his hands on my arms, I still hear his voice. When we met on Friday night, as I was there to work out before the xmas dinner with the people from work, we said hello, smiled to each other, joking on how there were quite a few people there that night to work off the chocolate cake of the night before. I worked out quickly and heavily, I showered and changed, I went to the reception in a hurry, flustered and excited, and when I left I heard somebody say goodbye to me, so I naturally turned towards the place where the B&S guy usually works with his “bad” patients. I think it wasn’t him who said goodbye, but the Ex-Possible-Prey. However, B&S guy turned toward the door and said goodbye too, smiling.
Oh, I can’t stop thinking of how sweet, and lovely, and sweet again he is and was on Thursday night, when he kissed me, and the image won’t leave my mind, and words fail me whenever I have to describe the truly electrical storm that went through me.
There is one more week before the gym closes for xmas holidays, and I have two more chances to see him and chat to him. I would like to invite him to the concert, or somewhere else, I imagine him there, talking to me, smiling sweetly the way he does when we talk, his eyes focusing, his face concentrating before opening in a big smile. I am glad I have the possibility to give the guys a present because they will “reward” me with hugs and kisses. Don’t you love xmas too?
Last night I did not sleep much. I went to sleep after eleven, thinking of how beautiful it would be if he came to the concert and spent some time with me, if we kissed, if we could just look at each other and be content. I tried to go back to sleep at 4 o’clock, then spent a couple of hours reading, dreaming, inventing words and moments.
So today I am not going to run, but it’s ok, because I did run a lot on Saturday and on Sunday too. I am going, then, to go buy a present for a friend of ours, then a couple of nice cups I’ve seen on discount in a fancy shop, and then I will go home and cook my special cinnamon cookies. At first I thought I would give the boys a cd, something like a “xmas @ the gym” compilation, then I thought better of it and kept the cd for myself, because I am not ready for such an intimate present like a cd that gives myself away so easily. I would buy chocolates and sweets, but handmade stuff is always better in my opinion, because I can really put all my love and affection into it.
I thought of how dog-like I sound and feel when I do these things: I cook, I think of presents, I plan occasions to make something special, and I am ready to sacrifice all myself for a kiss, a hug, a smile, a simple “thank you”.
Anyway, on with the recollection of the weekend.
As I said, after a good Thursday night, and the kisses from the B&S guy, and my tired body immersing into the warmth of my bed, I woke up on Friday thinking “Come on, just one more day and it will be over”. My boss was extra angry because we are packed with things to do, but I obviously cannot double myself and be in his office taking notes and in my office preparing offers and answering emails at the same time…which no, he has not realised yet…After lunch I ran to work, stopping to the mall to look at cute necklaces for a graduation present for musical friend, then ran for the rest of the afternoon from office to office, as my computer was being replaced with a really cooler one! It is right here, and I am typing on a supacool keyboard while looking at a supasupacool flat screen and breathlessly admiring the speed I can open files and download emails. Yey!
Anyway, I managed to run away earlier, buy the present, and be at the gym right on time, where I happily greeted the S&S guy with these words: “You have 75 minutes to torture me, then I have to go!”.
I got changed, and jumped on the cross-trainer. He arrived a minute later, and…now this is my impression, mind. But he approached and moved closer to me, the way one would move closer to kiss somebody, if only a greeting kiss on the cheek. It was so clear and plain to me that I thought, maybe I should stop, kiss him and get back to working.
Anyway.
We talked about the dinner, and went on with the program of the day, “since you know you are my very favourite, tonight you can choose what you want me to make you do”…
More than an hour later, I was showering and preparing for the dinner, all excited and in a hurry.
The night went…well. I am surprised, I didn’t think I would have such fun, but you know what?
Wine.
That was the trick.
It all started by me thinking “ok, I’ll have a glass of this wine, which I’m sure I won’t like, but at least they won’t say that I haven’t tried and then I’ll go on with water as my good me always does”.
But.
The wine was fantastic: pure silky heaven down my throat. And long before any sort of food was brought on the table…So I surpassed everyone at the table, and am now looked at with awe by the workers of the factory downstairs who were shocked by the sight of me, perfectly normal after all that wine.
Now…here’s the secret: I was very drunk.
I mean VERY drunk.
And I could tell by the way my eyes were reacting: the vision would come to my mind a lot later than the movement of my eyes, with some sort of cinematic special effect. But when it comes to hiding the effects of alcohol on me, if only to avoid behaving like an idiot, I am the best actress on stage. So, apart from a bit of giggling, all was normal. Walking, talking, moving..no problem.
God bless my body and its quick recovery, though…for after feeling not so great once at home and in a horizontal position (but that lasted five minutes, before I fell asleep) the morning after I felt slightly dizzy, and only for about half an hour, the time for a yogurt and a cup of coffee. Then, as if nothing happened, and I could run, and clean my room, and tidy the huge mess scattered around it, I even played for a while before going to play as a little shepherdess with the people of the band.
I did hope the B&S guy would be there, since it was a xmas celebration offered by the council to the sport associations of the town as a general thanks for the work done during the year (a-hem…yes, it’s election time soon, you can tell). But no, only Ex-Possible-Prey and Blondie were there, and anyway, we played for less than half hour, so, no big deal.
I think about him, and it’s an obsession I’d like to get rid of. Like, this Saturday bride-to-be friend is going to become married-friend, and I am dreading the day, since I will be alone and probably will have to share the table with two ex-uni friends who will possibly spend the day telling me about their great busy successful lives as rich business/researcher women, both engaged, so I expect the fiancés to be there too, and boy, do I really want to spend a day like this? I have had the permission from bride-to-be to bring anyone to the wedding, though. Friend, boyfriend, whoever I wish. I wish I could bring B&S guy, but that would be quite a stretch…I will try to find somebody, though, if only to have something more to say in between the courses.
Boy, I HATE WEDDINGS!
Anyway, good news to be added on this post: my boss has left the office and we may be lucky enough not to see him again before Wednesday, then he will be away on Thursday too! Maybe we could be even luckier, and get Friday afternoon off…Maybe we could be even super-luckier and not see him again before next year…
ANNND, we have received the xmas present here at work, and boy I am a lucky fairy! It is a gym bag, of a light bluish colour with grey strips, and it’s exactly what I planned to buy next month! So, I’ve just saved 35 euro, how cool is that? The bag was full of orgasmic things like coffee-chocolate beans, rice cookies, Belgian chocolates (which I don’t like, really, but mother’s on the moon), chocolate milk (which I don’t like either, to be honest, since I’m one for 85% dark chocolate) and delicious white wine…plus a sweet tiny gift, a small cat of the Thun collection, which is an expensive lovely brand of beautiful useless objects; well…the mugs ARE fab…Anyway, god bless my boss’s wife, whose expensive taste for xmas presents is always welcome!
And now, back to daydreaming and working (how is that? Well..split my brain in two and you have my current state: efficient office girlie and daydreaming fairy).

Boy oh boy oh boy

General summary of the past two days:

- took a personality test where it seems my level of neuroticism is up to...95%...
- ran 5 miles on Monday to catch up on running only 4 on Sunday
- worked out last night at the gym, from 18.15 to 20.10. Understood that the S&S guy hates me and wants me dead. Or that my arms drop from my body.
- slept less than 5 hours again. Half told off by mother about it because I was lucky enough as to get out of my room at the same time she was sneaking noisily to the loo, last night, so I couldn't lie on how I slept.
- got a message from library friend about my not being at her wedding; replied in 4 messages to explain that I was "a bit" depressed. No reply from her yet.
- boss back from Mexico, and in an extremely bad mood (see: black as coal). He keeps on saying things, changing his mind, not telling us so, and we keep on being shouted at because unfortunately none of us is particularly good at mind-reading. Suggestions, anyone?
- oh, the tv is dead. Which means no reruns of "Law&Order". Not important, really, since I'm reading Michael Cunningham and there is nothing better than that (apart from winter holidays, that is).
- schedule for the nights to come: boring long meeting for our second job; dinner with the people of the gym aka two hours sitting next to mother's colleague and listening to her endless bla-bla-bla; dinner with people from work aka legalised murder/suicide.

All in all, my plan for the rest of the week, and probably until the beginning of xmas holidays (December, 22nd) is simply going to be: TRYING TO SURVIVE.

The Mathematics of Love, or: how to waste a week of your free time

Review from the book:

"BIRDSONG told the story of the First World War; ATONEMENT described the Second. Now there is THE MATHEMATICS OF LOVE.
From the Suffolk countryside to the old Basque towns of Spain, Emma Darwin`s unforgettable debut tells the astoundingly moving story of Stephen, a veteran of Waterloo, whose suffering and secret lost happiness is transformed by love. Gorgeously written, fascinating and engrossing, THE MATHEMATICS OF LOVE is a sexy, heartbreaking, glorious novel by a major new literary star."

Now... I am no Shakespeare, people. But I have read quite a few books in my life, and I have always thought I can tell what's worth reading and what not. So, if you don't have enough time for all the great books of this world and the next, spare some of it by NOT reading this book.

A list of adjectives to describe "The Mathematics of Love":
- boring
- banal
- fake
- overestimated
Oh, and please do not compare this to the fantastic Ian McEwan, because Atonement was a true masterpiece. This is NOT.

I am sorry, but it really looked promising and it proved to be simply disappointing.

The story is set in two separated times, and in several places: we have the Suffolk ex-soldier from Waterloo, who's lost a leg, who's moved to Brussels and is keeping in touch with a girl whose sister he had to marry but did not, and to whom she describes some episodes of his life as a soldier so that she can have inspiration for her drawing; we have this lady, who should be some ante-litteram feminist who is very liberal about what to do and say, and who rejects common opinions, although there are scarce examples of this, and most of the times she just looks like some fake rebel spinster. We have the girl, in present time (England, 1976), who's moved to stay with her uncle because her mother is a freaky fragile woman who's gone to Spain and see if she can buy a hotel with her new boyfriend, and the girl is living in this ex-college, which used to be the house of an ex-soldier from Waterloo (...), so she gets to know the neighbours, who are these original anti-conformist couple, both non-English therefore so artistic and free, who are both photographers, and with whom she discovers the pleasure and meaning of photographs, of art, of memories, to the point where she is given some letters from that same soldier from Waterloo and...oh, bother! I'll spare you the rest, and the other details.
There were such fake points in this book that just made me think "This woman really wrote this as part of her Phd and she has been published and she is selling like mad! How can it be???". Then you may think I am just being sourly jealous because the woman could do the Phd in creative writing and she even got her work published.
Still, there are passages that sound like this (I am quoting by heart, so it is not exact):
"I stood in the hall and looked around me, and it came to me that this is where Stephen must have walked; I thought of his face looking out of the window"...Damn, I am writing it better that it was! Nobody would write or think like that! Where's a proper description of a true association of ideas, woman? A decent epiphany, a good stream of consciousness? Because I understand this is where you wanted to go, only you made it sound sooooooooo fake! It really feels like she was writing and every now and then she would think "right, now here I should add some more streaming thoughts of the girlie..oh, and yes, a bit more sex, out of the blue, so that reviews will call this an elegant erotic novel".
Bonus (or malus, I should say), what do we find out in the end? Guess: there is a connection between our teenage girlie in 1976 and the ex-soldier from Waterloo. Oh really?

Out of interest (or if you have time to waste), this is the website of the author.

Final comment on the book: forgettable.

This is a confused post

I've noticed, but I knew it would happen, that my posts are increasingly depressing/depressed.
I find it normal, to be honest, because my diaries have always concentrated on my inner me, and my inner me is rarely a happy one. My outer me is a crazy, noisy, frantic fairy buzzing around, speaking too loud or too low, running and singing, joking and talking nonsense. I do like it this way, because it makes life a lot easier, lighter, brighter. I like being the one who's always cracking jokes, commenting ironically over things, laughing like mad during rehearsals, and jumping around the place, dancing in between the set of work-out I am assigned at the gym or while going from office to office with loads of papers to file.
I am schizophrenic, I know. I also don't like being too loud or too fast when I speak, because I end up saying silly things or saying too much, to the point I have to shut myself up and curse at myself for looking so superficial and noisy. But I am not, really. I tend to think too much over things, reflect on words and looks, remember gestures and tiny unimportant moments that could have meant something, or that I could have made more important by saying/doing something myself, etc.etc. You see the point: I'm paranoid!
It's all just a matter of a complex up-and-down game which I decide to act whenever I think it necessary.
Example: I tend to be extra depressed during xmas vacations, like many people do at this time of the year (see: Christmas depression), but when I'm with my friends, even if they don't pay much attention to me (and how could they, busy as they are talking of all the presents they've received and given, and of the parties and meetings they're going to have or had), when I'm with my friends I want to be happy and I start singing xmas songs out of the blue, hugging them and pulling them to me to begin some dance - a-hem...I'll explain better: we are at the band, maybe during the break, and we are in a circle talking crap, so I decide it's time we move on and I take somebody to dance an impromptu waltz or a swing 50s song; this lasts for less than a minute, and then my unfortunate partner and I go back to the circle of friends and back to talking crap with the others.
...No, this doesn't make it sound any better...Anyway!
The point is, I have this aggressive/mad/cheerful attitude when I'm with people, like on Tuesday when I started singing "Moon dance" as it was playing at the radio, and I took my personal programme aka an ever changeable sheet of paper and used it as a microphone while waiting for the S&S guy to come back to me and show me yet another way to stretch my back.. People make me go mad, in a good way: I feel "younger", and stronger, and happier. Being with somebody, once I get used to new spaces and new people, is the best thing I can ask for. Company. And all that comes with it. I appreciate loneliness, look for it when I want to read, run, write, watch a movie, but all the other times, I love being with people. I am no hermit.
I think being this mad is a lot better than exercising with watery eyes and unsuccessfully holding back the tears: nobody likes to see a miserable-looking person around. Plus, pretending to be happy gives me a lot of energy and I can work out harder and better. Counter-side effect, I'm afraid I look slightly mental to those who are "simply" normal and act reasonably.
Of course the way I have described it may sound a bit weird: but I really have this energy and happiness, deep inside of me, which I desperately try to pull out from under some thick heavy layer of darkness and sadness. I go to the extremes, in that I am not just happy: I am loud and jumping and screaming and over-talkative and over-energetic. I am not just sad: I am desperate beyond imagination, an inch away from suicide, if it weren't from that ray of light down under which constantly struggles to get out, and screams and screams and screams to be heard, so that I actually hear some strange echo resounding in me and a vague kind of strength pulling me when I reach the bottom and start to dig. So I stop digging, look up, and start climbing back.
But.
Since I am now in the Climbing Stage, I see things in a positive way: I plan, I study, I search, I work. I try not to think about bad things and past things I cannot change, about future things that cannot happen. I try to concentrate on here and now, day by day.
Boy, I hate that.I like thinking of myself in the future, and changing the scene as ideas and feelings take over my rational me.
But the future is now.

Christmas wishes

I wish, I wish...
I wish this Christmas was different.
I wish my friends could be with me more often.
I wish I could buy presents and give them to my friends in a movie-like setting, with the xmas tree, music, hot chocolate.
I wish I could spend a good New Year's eve, if only dining with my friends and waiting for the beginning of the new year together, instead of hearing them talk of yet another suicidal trip to some major city for a whole evening and night in the streets, freezing to death, drinking like mad, getting lost, catching trains at impossible times.
I wish the concert went well...and since it's all utopian, I wish the two percussion girls magically disappeared five minutes before we begin.
I wish I could, for once, tell somebody that I like him, and receive something in return, possibly something better than "Oh..well, actually, don't be offended but..."
As an alternative, I wish that somebody I like came up to me to tell me that he likes me too.
I wish I received a present by somebody who really means it, rather than a conventional present just because it's xmas.
I wish my mother stopped talking of how the second bedroom in my house-to-be can be smaller because I am alone, after all.
I wish a lot of things that cannot happen.
For example:
I wish I were a penguin.

Christmas holidays badly needed

I need holidays...this morning I woke up thinking "Oh, boy, it's only Tuesday..."
..Now, I do need to sleep more, eat better (I doubt a diet of cereals and little less can help my training performances...), run longer and calm down...

Some things which I would like to do on this long weekend ahead:

- run (I know: banal...How about this:) run on a treadmill that won't start wobbling two seconds after I've increased the speed and make me switch it off and try to fix it for the following hour.

- tidy my room aka be so lucky as to find a fantastic cupboard between my wardrobe and the wall, like Harry Potter's train platform 3 3/4, is it? where I can put the pile of books currently negotiating for a bit of space with my computer, my writer's notebook and papers, my favourite cd (cases only...the cd are actually in three different players at the moment) and the first xmas present to wrap, all this on my teeny weeny table.

- make a nice good-looking xmas tree. No, I mean a smashing dazzling exciting xmas tree that will make me spend hours looking at it and at its lovely lights and not wanting to switch any other light in the kitchen because it's oh so romantic to be in the silence of the house when outside it's cold and dark and inside it's warm and soft, and everything is so xmasy.

- spend a day walking about in my uni city all dressed up for xmas, looking at the market stalls, go to the shops, have a hot cinnamon chocolate in my favourite coffee shop, buy a book or two (I have a free voucher for this, bless, so one book comes free, and the other is out of pure lust!), maybe take some picture, maybe see some friend, maybe just take it easy whoever I am (or not) with.

(at this point I should mention that I should also clean the house as it is my weekly task...but this is a list of things that I would like to do, and seriously, do I WANT to do that? Not indeed. So, out of THIS list!)

- read all that I can possibly read: I've just started "The Mathematics of Love" and it's a lot shorter than Jonathan Strange, so I plan to finish it in a couple of weeks, not considering the nights I'll have to "waste" on extra work (see: meetings for mother's - and my - second job) and social events (see: the xmas dinner with the people of the gym and the xmas dinner with the whole gang from work - and I'm dreading the latter). But good news: I've considerably cut down the amount of reruns I didn't really need to watch, like "Everwood" (which I watched only because of Treat Williams, although whenever I look at him I start singing "Manchester England, England..." and then I see him dancing..), or "House" and all the other stuff. The only thing worth watching now is Law&Order, because it is always intelligent and interesting, and never boring. So, my daily TV ratio is going from 2.5 hours to 45 minutes a day. And the rest is books. Back to the good ol' habits.

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And now the second post of the day will be the commentary on the book I've just finished reading. It's taken me quite a while, but hey...Here's the second chapter of my Bookclub.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell

Here I am again.
I'm sorry I am talking of "old" books, but I buy them late, read them months after they've been published, so...Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell.
Warning: can be severely boring in the first 50 or so pages. Or maybe it is only me.
Fact: footnotes are boring, distracting elements I don't like and cannot appreciate. Even the less when they come as one page long as it happened a few times during the reading of this particular book. Of course, they were also interesting sometimes, in that they told funny stories or details, but I have always felt that I can live without footnotes and be happy. Unless they explain the meaning of a word, and especially when that word is magic-speak.
This critique set aside, I did like Jonathan Strange. It was fascinating, interesting and funny. I liked when Wellington referred to (and called) Jonathan Strange as "Merlin". There was a good use of humour and irony throughout the story, so it really was enjoyable and the third part was definitely unputdownable. A+.
Accurate references (of course) to the war between England and France, although it is obviously only as the story unravels, and the facts of the war are not the most important bit of the telling; the readere's guide questions whether this is historical fiction, and I do think it is, rather than fantasy. But then, my notions on fictional genres &Co may be a bit rusted...
Then again, and I appreciated this, you don't see much magic performed, like formulas and magic spells in weird languages (and mind you, I am a linguist, so I should like this sort of things, but no, it takes the focus away from the story, I believe): magic is discussed by the two characters, and referred to, but performed...quite rarely to me. Except when the gentleman with the thistle-down hair appears, and that's an interesting part, not to say that it features one of the characters I have preferred, Stephen Black, the butler. Also, I can see that magic is more in the atmosphere of the story, in the appearance of magical roads, in seeing people who are not there, in fairies and in the remembrance of the time when the Raven King was...King!
Oh, thumbs down, almost at the end, after so many pages of "Strange pronounced the spell of...", not actually giving the spell away to the reader, what does Strange do? Cast a spell by saying "Abracadabra"? No comment...
The notes about the book say that the author had, among her other inspirational books, Jane Austen in mind as she set down the story. Can't comment on that because I've never read any Jane Austen, but the setting was very detailed, the historical time described, the language, it was all very Victorian: thumbs up!
They (the notes) say also that this Jane Austen reference would be in the love story...Have we read the same book? I see no love story really, unless they mean Strange's commitment to call on a fairy and ultimately on the Raven King to rescue his loved one.I am not one for fantasy books, so I cannot really comment too much on this, and the reading guide requires a longer reflection on the subjects. So I'm going to take some time to study on the subject; hopefully (or not) I'll be back with more to say about it.

Comments and ideas are always well accepted.