I got what I wished for
I got what I wished for
I sometimes do this:
and email it to my sister and my mother (sorry Dad – I’ll do one!)
or even this:
by which I mean spy on my boyfriend reading, through the cunning use of Photo Booth. He’s eating, by the way, not picking his nose.
Or even this:
Which is me physicalising whichever brooch I happen to be wearing that day. On a side note: HOW GOOD ARE BROOCHES. They are even better written down than said, because everyone always says ‘broooooches’ first and then corrects themselves with ‘broaches’.
In other news, November has got me over a barrel. And not in a fun way. No, November is being mean to me, and by mean I mean that I promised myself I would write a fucking book and then blabbed to everyone, so I now have to do it or risk being stabbed in the eye with a ballpoint pen by everyone that is disappointed in me. Namely myself. Apart from the mother complex, my life is not dissimilar to Oedipus. Pauvre moi, non?
But on another note, I feel strangely alive. I’ve decided to let go emotionally a little bit to some friends who can’t/wont/don’t know how to give me what I need. It’s better for everyone that way. I’ve felt a teensy bit miserable about the situation I’d gotten into, but I’ve realised that a bit of me banging my head on a wall has been happening, and I can’t say it’s been a whole heap of fun for either of us. It was a bit of a cock up en generale, let’s just say.
I’m working a lot, both on things that are pleasurable to me outside and inside of my day job, and I’m spontaneously feeling better about the career that lays ahead of me. I feel as though it could really go in two directions at this point and I have to say I would be happy with either. I am happy, which is a bit of a relief. It’s been a long time coming. I’m the kind of happy now where I very rarely get the panicked feeling that something needs to change, and change dramatically, and change NOW.
I won’t be too sorry to see the back of November (or will I?) but I am really loving it right now. Not just existing through it, but fucking living! Woot for that!
Woot for that indeed.
There is something about Swinton that makes me have faith in feminism. She’s one fierce bitch, even when she’s laughing she somehow terrifies me. But I also get the impression that she’s warm, she’s funny and she’s fuck-off intelligent – three things that women should be. I really dig her.