Saturday, April 29, 2006

I, the wildflower, have stopped shrinking

The garden's near. I have stopped shrinking, being a shrinking violet in my own , that is just so much harm to oneself. And like the buds and bulbs in the garden here, I want again to grow. I am a and stay that way.

Here we go again, another Friday gone by, discussion again with N. last night. Calm. But I said this is the last year of . There will be no 7th anniversary. Not this way. That was okay. Seemed to be.

I have been thinking about a half-assed solution again, maybe that is not the ideal, maybe there may be no others. Just live here part-time, and there the other half. That is the true Canadian half-assed way. Until the kids are big enough - and I am...

The sun is up and shines on this downstairs office and I can guess the orchards on the other side of the window screen and, maybe, this computer screen.

That is a beginning. I can see it. The sun is bright seen from here and the orchard is beautiful. I'd like the kids to have it for a while. Yet there are things I can't do. There is no room for expressing myself here, in the framework of this , not enough, the growth is stunted, but it has helped saying it aloud. The is leaning towards change and future, the wildflower is learning.

Friday, April 28, 2006

why married men make great lovers

Drinking white wine here and thinking. Summer weather. And. Yes, that is what I am saying. make great , especially when you are not married to them. Why? Because they don't ask dumb-ass questions. Because they are glad to see you. Always. And because they will seldom, if ever, leave their wives for you. That is a good thing if you want to be free, and can, and will. And if he wants to be free, but cannot.

If he can... it may generate other well-know problems and before you know, here you are in a half-assed again. The thing here known as "this". A dumb .

I am not talking about that other guy when he was married. I am talking about yet another one who stayed that way. I really liked him. Blue eyes, actor in theater, knew his wines and my freedom. The deadpan end is that when he started talking about leaving his wife - I stopped answering the phone. It was good though. Not thinking about consequences frees not just your mind. I guess that was a good deal because we wanted it that way. Well - he still is one of the best lovers I've had in every sense of the word.

I am not going to steal anybody's husband now, girls. I am married. Yes, that thing. I am. You can do what you want. Just do not fall in .


Drinking white wine here and thinking. What a life. Even if it had to be over I would not regret it... that much.

happy Martini Friday!

Yeah so here I am and I should be gone, this cave does have a strange attraction - no it is an office actually, my office and you know what, am leaving it {almost} now...

let's see who gets to fight or flight tonight but anyway

I wanted to wish you a happy !

Mine is Guava or lychee with good brand or premium vodka, depending... and yours? What are you doing right now? I will check back in later eastern time....
gotta go..

Read last night if bored stiff or read the ads... lol... seeya


the beauty of Cohen's lyrics

Nostalgic mood, not directed to anything, just thinking of the beauty of Cohen's lyrics, and ...

Its is just absolute, no way around it, where is not that cliché of eternity but a moment in history, a moment in a . I like that. It is so much more real than what usually is going on.

Maybe it used to be that way, maybe I had to be a student at that time or whatever .... one on the very long list of the best ever songs. Just sending this in the egosphere... sorry... blogosphere.. and back to work. Just one thought, though -

Why can't I do it if so many can?

Be free? I used to be the freest girl in the world, married or not.


-----


Chelsea Hotel by


I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
you were talking so brave and so sweet,
giving me head on the unmade bed,
while the limousines wait in the street.
Those were the reasons and that was New York,
we were running for the money and the flesh.
And that was called love for the workers in song
probably still is for those of them left.
Ah but you got away, didn't you babe,
you just turned your back on the crowd,
you got away, I never once heard you say,
I need you, I don't need you,
I need you, I don't need you
and all of that jiving around.

I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel
you were famous, your heart was a legend.
You told me again you preferred handsome men
but for me you would make an exception.
And clenching your fist for the ones like us
who are oppressed by the figures of beauty,
you fixed yourself, you said, "Well never mind,
we are ugly but we have the music."

And then you got away, didn't you babe...

I don't mean to suggest that I loved you the best,
I can't keep track of each fallen robin.
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
that's all, I don't even think of you that often.


love is all about the money

So last night big discussion for a change, I have stopped hiding. N. and I really talked about ... and divorcing. is all about the ...

How funny is that a subject? Worse to avoid. The question is pure life's worst prose - how much it costs? The house, the summer cottage, well at least not my dear car - he has a Swedish name - Mats. My car I mean.

There is no poetry in there. Argumenting but not arguing - we almost never argue which is bad - about mortgages and stuff. I am against second and third mortgages and dead serious about it too.

Discussion excerpt - along these lines -

Me - "What ever happened so this became a seasonal romance? We never do anything any more.. You got married to your work and I hate this place. I am sorry to say I will never like it here. And I loved that job in France. I want to move back to X {the big city, friends}. Really. I want that back. .. us, life, love. I just can't live this way waiting for a miracle change, trying to fix things. I have been doing this for months. What do you think about this?"


N. - "I never have the time to think about it. I have so much work on my mind, work worries..."

Me - "I know. I know it is not good for you either to work around the clock. You just burn. There's no more headspace to think about us. I have noticed. Don't you miss it when we were in love?"

N. - "Sure. My head is saturated with work and money-related matters. Maybe if I call HSBC... The guy said he could extend the credit line... "

Me - "That's more monthly payments and not less. We can rent out the summer home, we never even go there. That is money in and not money out."

N. - "What else do you want to do to have money right now? We can't rent the chalet yet ..."

Me - "We just redid the roof."


N. - "We need a quick fix and the renting out is long term."

Me - "But our needs that too. A quick fix and a long term fix or it just is not any more. Hey, look, it makes financial sense too. Because if I leave there is none of it left. Not to talk about the emotional consequences. And the cost of dwelling on this is just too high."

N. - "You are right. We lose everything. "


--

So I guess that about says it. I still like him a lot. That seems mutual. But is there anything else there? I can't just say the same things over every few months and hope that he will do something about US with me. Whine, whine, whine. Back to the business for the damn paper on bilingual .




Thursday, April 27, 2006

blogging personas and being real behind the firewall

It so happens that first you have a you really love and nurture and give it water regularly - and in come wonderful readers and it transforms the blog. And the blogger. This semi-public persona thing takes over and we say less. As in - less personal, less aggravating. Try to be creative. It can transform a good project into mediocrity, a golden idea into just old. And that is not going to happen here. No peer pressure - lol - no pleasing. Just writing my real life away and If I happen to think, well so be it.

Work was nothing much to talk about. Call that "literature review". And tonight no martini night. Water's good. I did not draw anything. No Day. Just thinking - slowly....

I find I am still here just fighting with that 's oldest question about living the right way. My way {the highway, where, etc.} Antonia is right and I took the longing love thing and pining away out of the equation. For now. {BTW Bring God into that and you're done.}

But - I mean - kindness. Not hurting others. It is bit like "old man take a look at my life, I'm a lot like you..." Another story. That is incontestably right.... is it? What is it? And he was wrong staying married so as not to hurt others - my mom. But who suffers then? Me me me me... it may occur to me one day that it is wrong to do wrong to my own constantly by not practicing what I preach - not here - but in general. If people have a soul mine must be fried with almonds and wrondoing to it because I am not changing THIS. Just waiting around for a train. Whistling past the graveyard.

Yes, and the energy came back from sleep and new old projects of moving back to where I am happy. But then if the house is sold - the country home - well whatever. In a before the end or in the beginning maybe - the sunrise - who cares. That's called collateral damage.

I must shut the computer down, turn off the lights and speak up.

My is the one that is the most obvious to all.


thanks for the link..

Hi Jod{i}, just a word of thanks for the link.

It can get lonely on planet Mars vs. Venus so it was very nice indeed!

Thanks! I have "moved" here to keep myself company and without too many stylistic considerations.

Free, kind of.


brightness falls - the poem - and fatigue

I am hiding here in the office. Not getting there. Some old - just playing in my mind like a broken record and today I am no literatus {servus, servi?} to look it up -

Brightness falls from the air
Queens die young and fair
Dust falls from Helen's eye
I am sick, I must die
Lord, have mercy on us


I am tired. That is stupid, wishing things is the same, working uninspirational to the extreme where I am actually not working... and should be. The deadline is still far and the bed is closer. I am going to fall slowly like dust on the duvet and float around for a while - I say that because meditating is so too much new age for me. But maybe that's what it is. Writing tires me and bad is worse. No Art Day. Nothingness Day.

this is actually my real diary, friends

So here things seem better. I did not even need to hide in the basement last night. Just had my martini - or was that a plural? Anyway... Nobody bugging me this time, I actually even ended up having a nice evening and online shopping helping am in good moods. It's brighter. New York Times literary supplement was good as usual and Neil has a new album about war - it was about time he get more political in his with what is going on South of border.

But I need to have a , I am that kind of a girl, a normal chick, I dont want a "partner" because that is business and I know that already. A roommate? Sorry, too late, it has been done before me and will be done again but not here. Work is a pain. I feel like a scribe then productiveness can be a little bit uplifting when I get it done. I miss the actual glamour of business in France but that was then. And this is the wrong town. I told N. that maybe we should just get away and start a new life because its not called a life if you have romance just once a year during the holidays.

Right I want a desert island? No. But no sickly lyricism either. Where did he go? Disappeared under the cover of work and never came back. I told him. He said I'm right but but but how much is that going to change? And why am I not working? I have to get back to work. Now. It can't be so serious. It can't it can't. Nothing is, we just take too seriously - or I forget and I do. Not in the mood for working but have to . I said so. I did. Gone.

If you see this - this is my real diary. Treat it kind.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

love in question...

Well, okay then, I started this as a truth time blog because my professional blog clearly does not allow me to tell anything. Nor would I want to.. hence, the secret life of the private person. Versus persona.

Carrie is married, that may or may not be a good thing, but in this case it happens not to be.

And here I am in the street corner wondering where to turn. It used to be fun and romantic and now it's as flat as a stupid pancake. Even if you change the jam or the syrup it still tastes the same. Nothing much, really. And I do feel bad for him and for what was and I am not divorced yet @ age thirty. But it is not far.

Tonight is going to be lychee martini time and hopefully not too much talking. I might just drive away. Stay here writing or drawing until I forget who I am.


Carrie's secret life onscreen

Hi, I am hiding here behind the blog because I have got my reasons. You'll soon see which ones. I live a double life. It's interesting... and sometimes hard.. I need to talk about it, but you're not my shrink. Be my friend, on the other side of the firewall!!!!