fear and sparrows

Oh Christ I'm scared. Have to meet Fish for a very adult coffee that he's basically insisted upon. I am terribly, terribly afraid that he wants to tell me, in a very adult way, about a new girlfriend. Or some other horrible thing like he was cheating for those last six months. I just want to run away. Not seeing him is definitely the best thing, but he says he's thinking about dropping out of our upcoming group skiing holiday. When I asked why, he said (insert angry/hurt voice here), 'because it's difficult Anna.' Don't know if that means seeing me, or is to do with  a new girl. Apparently meeting up will be hard but it's worth it if it 'helps either of us.' Eugh.

The thing is, I know it won't do any good to keep burying my head and in a way a new girlfriend would be good - might kick me into actually looking for other people. But I still don't want to sit in a coffee house and pretend to be an adult. My stomach hurts. If butterflies are the nice thing that happens when you like someone, wonder which animal it is that's currently in my belly. Snakes? June bugs? (always hated those scaly buggers). No... more fluttery than that. Sparrows? Anyway. Not supposed to be the point of this blog. The point was....

What do I want to get out of this meeting? Seems silly just to go in there all trembly without anything prepared. Bit worried I'll rant otherwise. But I'm not sure I want to know his answers to 'why did you stop loving me and/or wanting to be with me?' I don't really trust him to say anything useful, and whatever he says is bound to be painful. 'Why did you stop trying?' perhaps? Telling him I'm still so angry at him for not being there and being so horrible for so long. That I'm equally angry with myself for letting him be so horrible for so long and doubting myself so much. But what good does that do? I would like to say something about my family. I'm truly hurt that he didn't send them a message, and I wish he would. They were endlessly kind and warm to him.

Grrrr. Basically, I'm travelling to the North for half an hour, which is annoying. To be fair, I was going to be at work today, but now that I've been reading in bed I just want to stay here for ever. Do I wear what I'm wearing or dress up?

*secret confession for the internet * I worked at home today so that I could wash a pretty dress to wear. 

This is ridiculous. He is just a man. Really, he's just a boy. And I will survive no matter what he says. Hear that, Anna? You will be ok. Honest.
 

Just about to watch this: http://www.minds.com/blog/view/201538/quite-possibly-the-most-eye-opening-six-minutes-ever-on-film - apparently the most 'mindblowing six minutes on television. *sits back and prepares to judge...
....two minutes later.....
Well, the video keeps pausing but essentially I'm looking at lots of chickens being forced into cages then prepared by masked automatons. Only mindblowing if you've been cosily buying cheap chicken from supermarkets for the last 10 years with absolutely no questioning as to how they can produce it that cheaply. Interesting though in that it's really hard to get images from inside mass production companies so someone took a big risk. And ooh, the cow bit is harder to take. Not sure the opera music over the top was necessary though. Oh, the pig bit is worst of all. They're just so much more human, and yet so delicious.

It's been a weird, weird weekend. Have spent most of it feeling very lost, as though the world outside my bed is a big, scary place. Too much alcohol, too many couples and too much awkwardness. Also too much pining over Fish. It's now been nearly a year - I need to get with someone else I think, even if it's a disaster. Hot barman sort of stood me up, which was annoying and rather humiliating last night. He may make good cocktails, but he's clearly too slippery to be trusted. On the good side, would have been much worse if we'd ever actually kissed or anything and then he'd stood me up. This annoyed me, but nothing more. However, think I'd invested in it as another opportunity to have fun and move that bit further on. Eugh. Am tired of stressing about it. I've been reading LM Montgomery - Emily of New Moon. It's lovely, and sad, and sweet - she's dangerous to read in certain moods as she plays right into my core beliefs - nothing matters as much as the relationships you have, and you won't ever be truly happy unless you're living a life you believe in. It makes me ask lots of horrible questions about what I'm doing now and where I want to end up. Hrrrghh. I do wish I loved my job - would be so much better.

Had Maisie's wedding, which was oddly flat. She looked incredibly beautiful but there was a feeling of falseness about the day - it all somehow seemed a bit empty. I think most of the other weddings I've been to, the couple have had some huge change happening in their lives, or one of them has been religious - it has felt like the ceremony meant something irrevocable. This just felt like a performance to give Maisie a new status in society. However, I think I'm being so unfair owing to 1) jealousy (we have always been competitive and at present, it must be admitted, I am losing the happiness game) and 2) not being in New York and watching their relationship deepen. What they have feels to me to be rather hollow, but either I'm wrong or that is what Maisie wants, Maybe a bit of both. It felt like a convention rather than two people who were deeply in love pledging their lives to each other. Meh. On the good side, Maisie looked AMAZING - like a supermodel, and she seemed to think it had all gone well, which is what she'd been worried about (see? strange?).

Right, this has been rather an uninspiring post, but then it's been rather a dull, annoying weekend, in spite of doing lots. I feel a cold chill when I think of the future, which just at the moment seems to be rather planned out and uncomfortable. Don't worry, I'll be back soon and plan to be in a better  

west side story, wittering, love

Watching West Side Story - it's odd how slow it feels! Makes me realise quite how crap my attention span is. Also, Tony's teeth haven't got any less weirdly large since I last watched it. Hmm. Might steal a cigarette from Lizzie and sit outside for a sec while typing...

Oh, have got sucked in after all. Maria is still wonderful. Also, the dances are just way cooler. Definitely less jumping up and down on the spot, fewer stumbling and vomiting people and more actual ability to dance. Still a shame about Tony though. Still, Romeo's basically a bit of a twat, so I suppose it adds up. Also, he's currently singing Maria, which he is very good at. Such a beautiful song.

Ahh, just had 'I want to be in America'. So amazing. Incredible dancing, brilliant lyrics - something about it always makes me want to cry - maybe because I can't imagine ever managing to dance with such unselfconscious joy unless drunk.

Onto the more boring balcony scene now with toothy Tony being a wuss, so I'll update you. I finally texted nice Jamesman back... oh, got distracted again. They look so in love. I remember doing that staring thing with Fish, where I couldn't quite believe he was real, and loved me. I wonder if I'll ever get to the point where the idea of him looking at someone else like that doesn't make me want to be sick.

On the good side, Officer Krupkee is starting. I used to know every single verse to this, and play it on the piano. No wonder I wasn't a cool child. Anyway, so I finally texted him back, but I left it a week and he'd texted twice. He hasn't replied now, which is fair, but sort of a shame as I think I'd decided I quite wanted to see him again and check whether the sex would be better. Never mind, considering it was my first proper venture, I reckon it could have gone worse. Suppose now I should try meeting some other ones, since it was actually quite fun. In the meantime, I'll just carry on watching West Side Story. Had forgotten how evil the lieutenant is. Hmm. Wonder if 'in lieu' is related to 'lieutenant'. Huh, yes it does (thanks Wikipedia) "The word lieutenant derives from French; the lieu meaning "place" as in a position (cf. in lieu of); and tenant meaning "holding" as in "holding a position"; thus a "lieutenant" is somebody who holds a superior's position in his or her absence (compare the Latin locum tenens). "  It's probably time to stop writing this now, as that was definitely a low point...

Snuggled on the sofa under my coat, trying to ignore the fact that I'm going out soon. I am sore and tired and a little cold, and have switched the channel to David Attenburgh for comfort. Unfortunately the first sentence since the switch is 'Soon, she will be burnt alive.' Today has been confusing. I had sex last night for the first time since Fish. It wasn't very good, which was rather a disappointment, but at least I've done it, I suppose. Then went with Lucy on a day trip out of London, to Aylesbury, which was rather a weird destination but a lovely pub and nice to be out. I feel quite weird. Sad, but think it's just tiredness. The guy is called James and is cute, though cuter (it must be said) after quite a bit of wine. Still, was a lovely date (we met at our houseparty last week) to the  AMAZING Pyjama Men and he is very sweet and quite interesting. Basically, I'm glad I did it but really wish it had been excellent - good sex is hard to come by, it appears. *sigh. Oh well. Off to here tonight: http://www.powderkegdiplomacy.co.uk/contact.html which does look v. exciting, if I was a bit less sleepy!

So, I turned 29 and the world didn't fall apart, which was nice. Maybe I'm saving that for my 30th. It's been an interesting three months. The world feels much easier than it was, probably helped by a ludicrously extravagant summer that included (so that I don't forget when I'm old and grey and suffering from an unsustainably large population):

1) Lucy's first hen do - amazing, amazing house somewhere in England that wasn't London (I'm so sorry, all geographers and Northerners), with a piano, a stuffed bear called Donald and the loveliest collection of people I've been lucky enough to spend four days with in recent memory. We danced and ate and played at Alice in Wonderland.

2) Croatia and the yacht - beautiful, just so beautiful, though with  some slightly dodgy and very, very posh people 'of course, some people go sailing on their lakes, but I prefer the sea' 'it was a gem emergency!' Adam, Lizzie and Russ were there though, which helped make up for it.

3) Cock and Bull festival - my favourite festival ever. Tiny, fun, with a hay bale throwing competition (never tangle with a farmer). Rather strange night with a couple and lots of  cocaine... being single after lots of years with someone can lead to some odd decisions, I have discovered.


4) A trip to a (slightly dodgy) spa with Sam and Helen - lovely and relaxing and friendly couple of days, though it was odd that no one really seemed to actually work at the spa. However, on the way home we stopped at a farmer's shop and I bought amazing bacon, picked my own broad beans and spent way too much on a haunch of venison that is currently in the freezer, waiting till the perfect time...

5) Edinburgh festival - as ever, amazing, and not too painful being there with Fish, though he was weird and googly-eyed and sad, which was horrible, though not as horrible as if he'd been totally fine and with someone new. Also one wonderful club night with Cassette Boy 'like to get scampi'. Lots and lots of dancing.


6) End of the Road - slightly beaten by Cock and Bull, but still really fun - everyone got along, even my loud but lovely friend Allie and my cousin Sophie, which really could have gone either way. Plus, turns out there's a point to silent discos - who knew?

7) My birthday, which I was dreading for obvious reasons but actually was a lot of fun. It turns out I'm just a lot less stressed when Fishless, though it was still sad at moments.


8) Lucy's 2nd hen do. Not blowing our own horn or anything but we rocked as bridesmaids - it was lovely!

9) Lucy's Wedding (ok, so it's not quite summer but it was really, really wonderful so I'm including it anyway). Westminster Abbey, the bells chimed as they finish the vows and sun came through the stained glass windows as they signed the register. If I were a) Christian or b) had any intention of wearing a white dress and c) someone I wanted to marry, then I would want an exact copy. Lucy looked unbelievable and we all cried a lot.



So yes, it has been a really lovely three months in some ways, if up and down. On the down side, it's now been almost 10 months since I've had sex. 10 MONTHS. If this situation is not remedied soon it will be time for some seriously bad decisions. I've also promised to do the online dating thing, and I will try to write about it again. I've found writing this post very boring, but I know I will be glad I've done it, looking back. Also, I made a GOOD soup the other day:

Sausages (or chorizo would be even better)
Fava beans in a can (ideally in sauce - Palestinian recipe from weird shop in CJ, lemon juice, cumin)
Fresh tomatoes
Tomato puree
eight whole garlic cloves
good beef stock
one onion
spinach
courgette
red lentils (if you want a heartier soup)
cumin
coriander
fresh red chillies, three, cut in half with seeds still in
ground cloves (only a little but they really work, don't leave them out)

Fry the onions, garlic until transparent and garlic a little golden (not too hot as you'll burn the garlic). Add the meat and brown
Add cumin, coriander, cloves and chillies and fry a little longer (about 1 min)
Add puree and fry on a low heat until it caramelises and turns a darker red
Pour in stock and sauce from beans, add lentils and bring to gentle boil
leave to simmer for a little until the lentils are cooked (about 30mins)
add the courgettes and cook for another five mins or however long it takes for the courgettes to be al dente
add the spinach, stir until it wilts
taste for seasoning - add pepper/lemon juice/salt if wanted
trickle olive oil on top and serve

I am sunbathing on the roof of my new flat, 10 Simpson Street, previous home of Hache. It's really rather lovely, and although I've mostly been making sure to fill up my evenings with plans, it's nice not to have to do anything much today. Well, nice and scary. It's been over six months since breaking up with Fish, I've realised now. It's got a lot better, like everyone says it does. Moving in with friends helped, plus meant that I got to stay friends with the Durham lot, which is nice. The problem is, I'm not really sure what to do now. Single, 28 nearly 29, in a now much better paid job that sadly I don't really enjoy,.,My two best friends are getting married this year, which has mostly been very nice, however probably adds to my general sense that I stepped off the usual track at a rather unfortunate time. Happily, I'm not wishing to get married or instantly have children or anything, but I am just a bit worried about the future. Which does no good, of course. In fact it's actively detrimental unless I have some plans to put in place. Other than maybe wanting to become and agent and at some point wanting to live somewhere with more green, I don't really. And maybe to manage to write a book, though that would entail a) having some ideas b) making time to actually write them and c) why does there always have to  be a c), I  wonder? I don't have one, so there. 

A submission came to our non-fiction team a few weeks ago, called 'Surviving Your Twenties'. The book explained that actually, far from being 'the best years of your life' they are rather tricky to navigate at times, maybe especially so if you haven't settled down in the accepted fashion. It feels as though decisions that you make will have Repercussions, heavy lead like things that you'll look back on in your 60s and shake your head with regret at. Luckily my memory is pretty crap, so maybe that will help. I'm fairly sure that this is pretty normal. I also think it hits women at this age rather than men. Maybe being married with kids would help - I do think that anything where you feel you are serving a higher purpose than looking after your own needs and that limits the time you have to think about yourself  is helpful in dealing with this odd sense of malaise, while I'm surrounded by everything women fought for over the years. Obviously, it's also important to look out for yourself (I know this as I wasn't very good at it for quite some time) but I think that the simple truth is that a life lived only for your own pleasures just isn't that satisfying after a while. If you enjoy your job and feel you're doing worthwhile things then that would work - sadly, since Little, Brown reduce publishing to a strange, soulless, earnest machine, my job satisfaction is correspondingly less. Still, I bought a lovely author the other day, so went to a proper publishing lunch with an absolutely adorable agent, who I fairly sure will turn into an absolute monster if the books don't do well. It's strange, that being much more under my responsibility than it used to be - don't think I'm a fan and do rather miss M&B's space, which meant that if the profit margin was looking a bit low you could just whack out a republi\shed anthology called 'Brutal-but-sexy-Billionaires' and sell a comfortable 5000 copies. 

He didn't make me feel good, and I stumbled out of our relationship feeling older, tireder and generally stupider. Now, a lot of the time, I'm just sad. It's horrible, this sadness, though on the plus side it's much less desperate than before - definitely better out of the relationship, I just wish he'd bugger off to Australia so I could graciously wish him well from a distance and not have to see  him looking happy and watch myself still trying to look attractive to him even though, and this really is true, I don't want to be back with him. I just want to win. I'm very bad at accepting that sometimes things don't work out and it isn't because either person was 'wrong' (though obviously it was him) (you see). The mean side of me would like him on the floor, wailing at his own stupidity. The thing is, he got close to doing that a bit after he broke up with the new girl because he 'missed me too much.' He was drunk and a mess and everything I thought I wanted him to be but actually it made me really sad. So I told him I forgave him about Lindsey and still loved him but knew we were better apart. I always used to do that - say it was ok because at that moment it would be, only to have several furious conversations with myself later on after he took me at my word. And even as he sat there telling me he was a mess and no one cared, I realised he was still completely focussed on himself. He had been an absolutely shit boyfriend for months, totally absorbed with shutting me out of his new life and even more so with not having to feel like he was expected to do anything and now he was totally focused on his own sadness - I realised there still wasn't any space for me in his head at all. This was good as I realised once again how deeply glad I was that we finally broke up. but sadly means that in some twisted way I still hadn't won. I wanted him realising how stupid he'd been to lose ME, not mourning his own emotions and lack of close friends. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just not that nice. I have amazing parents who bought me up feeling (without ever really realising it) that I was really special (in a good way, not in the having a different school bus kind of way). One of the harder things about both breaking up with someone and beginning a new job is that you start to realise that maybe you're not. On the other hand, most of the people who have fulfilling lives have a core of solidity - an I Am. Maybe the trick is worrying less about being 'special' and more about who you are and actually want to be. You live in the best, most honest way you can without driving everyone around you (or yourself) bonkers. Maybe I'll call that a mannafesto. God I'm hilarious. 

Also, gchat with my friend Adam the other day:

Adam: 'guess who's coming to dinner?' 

Me: 'Who? Ooh - the girl from last night? did it go well then?'

Adam: 'Me!' 

Me: 'oh'

Adam: 'And no. I made her cry a little.' 

Dates can always be worse. :) 

Well, this is a weekend that I am glad is over. Cleaning the old flat wasn't fun, to put it mildly. Low point of yesterday:
Me: (after more sensible earlier refusal to do the following, the various hours having erased my ability to ignore the pain of what we're doing) "maybe we should just give in and get professional cleaners in" Him: "no, we're nearly there now"
Me: (tearfully) "maybe, but I still won't have a home, or a boyfriend who I love"
Him: (practically) "how will a professional cleaner help with that?"

Low point of this morning (final defrosting of freezer and giving back keys):
Him: "Anna, there's something I should..."
Me: (doom)
Him: "I've been seeing a bit of Lindsey" (all-dancing, all-singing, all-coding, all-dark-haired-and-skinny-work-girl-who-had-nothing-to-do-with-our-breakup) "We're going to the opera next week"
Me: (doomconfirmed. silence. ouch)

So, after a spa with my lovely friend Lucy, I'm veering between rage (a month and a half after a seven year relationship is pretty fast, but then she was around before), tears and a sense of relief that my jealousy of her over the last six months was justified. Also, it helps to be allowed to be a bit angry with reason. And plus I have an excuse to get another glass of  the nice white wine I bought.

*goes to get another glass of wine

I now have a tidy room, aching legs and am watching Big Bang Theory. New flatmate man just got back - ironically having just discovered that his ex has also started dating someone new!

2013!

2013. It sounds so futuristic. Also, for the first time in a while I have no idea what it will bring, which is both terrifying and exciting. New job, no boyfriend and new flat - having come out of the latest black hole, I'm looking forward to the world again! Last night and day actually turned out to be wonderful. The big party was no such thing and I'm now reassured that I will stay friends with them too. It's such a relief to feel less bitter! I also explored my very first rave party (I gave the Primrose Hill canape-and-couples evening a miss). It was strange, both the lighting and people,  and made weirder by my giving in and wearing a white overall thing - felt like a druggy version of American Psycho. I'm glad I went though - it was good to see it, even if I did feel a bit like Dances with Wolves (which I'm currently watching) exploring a brand new tribe. Have spent the day very hungover, packing and happy. Seeing Fish was fine - in fact, it was nice without being painful. I do wish I could bottle the feeling I have at the moment and take a sip when I descend into the downward slope again.

Right, am going to go back and continue admiring Kevin Costner's deliciously blue and predatory eyes.