woke up today with the strangest feeling in my stomach – a gnawing sense of purposelessness. my first day of unemployment, and i couldn’t even bring myself to have a lie in.

instead, i filled my day with errands and phone calls and cleaning. the kind of cleaning you never really have time for – re-organising drawers, sorting through old clothes and shoes, and cleaning my jewellery. (how strange, i just typed and re-typed that word, but it still looked weird…turns out, the american english version, “jewelry” now looks too odd to my eyes. go figure.)

going through my jewellery always makes me a bit wistful because it so tangibly reflects different periods in my life. my jewellery is so readily demarcated by age and personal era. my turquoise collection is from my late teens, my amber from my early twenties, my garnets from my later twenties, my peridot and glass beads from my early thirties – the infatuation with different stones paralleling different phases of where and who i was in life at that time.

stirring through all these pieces also stirs up memories of relationships. more than most other objects, jewellery is so often a physical representation of the emotional ties we once had. the gifts of past lovers, long lost friends, family members now gone, their history now memorialised by the holding onto. the pink heart earrings that were a valentine’s day gift. the grandchildren’s charm bracelet. the gold wedding ring from a dissolved marriage. the silver bangle from my foreign exhange parents. the garnet ring i exchanged with my lost friend beth. the amber earrings from my university girlfriend. no longer jewellery i wear, but mementos of the past that i can’t bring myself to part with.

intermingled with them are the loved treasures of those still much missed. the miniscule diamond from my brother’s first christmas. the coyote pendant my dad gave me when i left home. the souvenirs from cambodia, new orleans, amsterdam. the coveted kaleidoscope necklace from my mum for my birthday. the tin bubblegum-machine ring from my dear friend jo. the blue quartz earrings alex made for me as a going away present. the delicate stringed bracelet my sister gave me when she was 12. the red glass dangles from my first weekend with jonno. reminders of people and places held dear to the heart, the little trinkets and presents presence, that make me feel close to those so far away.

and so i spent several hours today cataloging this old mish-mashed collection of recollections. sorting through tangles, polishing away the tarnish, pairing up twos. and as i did so, i let the twinges of sadness and longing play at my heart, unboxed old aches and ghosts, brought good memories back to gleaming bright, turned them over in my hand and mind, letting them catch the light…

then nestled them carefully back in their velvet, put them neatly away, and closed the drawer.

my morning jacket – golden

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british summer may have many flaws…

…but they are nearly all redeemed by the british strawberries.

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seen over at the noble savage, apparently these are entertainment weekly’s “100 new classics”. i think the “classic” status is highly debatable, but i’ve bolded the ones i’ve seen. yes, i know i’m the only person on the planet who hasn’t seen “the sixth sense”

1. Pulp Fiction (1994)
2. The Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001-03)
3. Titanic (1997)
4. Blue Velvet (1986)
5. Toy Story (1995)
6. Saving Private Ryan (1998 )
7. Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)
8. The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
9. Die Hard (1988 )
10. Moulin Rouge (2001)
11. This Is Spinal Tap (1984)
12. The Matrix (1999)
13. GoodFellas (1990)
14. Crumb (1995)
15. Edward Scissorhands (1990)
16. Boogie Nights (1997)
17. Jerry Maguire (1996)
18. Do the Right Thing (1989)
19. Casino Royale (2006)
20. The Lion King (1994)
21. Schindler’s List (1993)
22. Rushmore (1998 )
23. Memento (2001)
24. A Room With a View (1986)
25. Shrek (2001)
26. Hoop Dreams (1994)
27. Aliens (1986)
28. Wings of Desire (1988 )
29. The Bourne Supremacy (2004)
30. When Harry Met Sally… (1989)
31. Brokeback Mountain (2005)
32. Fight Club (1999)
33. The Breakfast Club (1985)
34. Fargo (1996)
35. The Incredibles (2004)
36. Spider-Man 2 (2004)
37. Pretty Woman (1990)
38. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
39. The Sixth Sense (1999)
40. Speed (1994)
41. Dazed and Confused (1993)
42. Clueless (1995)
43. Gladiator (2000)
44. The Player (1992)
45. Rain Man (1988 )
46. Children of Men (2006)
47. Men in Black (1997)
48. Scarface (1983)
49. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)
50. The Piano (1993)
51. There Will Be Blood (2007)
52. The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad (1988 )
53. The Truman Show (1998 )
54. Fatal Attraction (1987)
55. Risky Business (1983)
56. The Lives of Others (2006)
57. There’s Something About Mary (1998)
58. Ghostbusters (1984)
59. L.A. Confidential (1997)
60. Scream (1996)
61. Beverly Hills Cop (1984)
62. sex, lies and videotape (1989)
63. Big (1988)
64. No Country For Old Men (2007)
65. Dirty Dancing (1987)
66. Natural Born Killers (1994)
67. Donnie Brasco (1997)
68. Witness (1985)
69. All About My Mother (1999)
70. Broadcast News (1987)
71. Unforgiven (1992)
72. Thelma & Louise (1991)
73. Office Space (1999)
74. Drugstore Cowboy (1989)
75. Out of Africa (1985)
76. The Departed (2006)
77. Sid and Nancy (1986)
78. Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991)
79. Waiting for Guffman (1996)
80. Michael Clayton (2007)
81. Moonstruck (1987)
82. Lost in Translation (2003)
83. Evil Dead 2: Dead by Dawn (1987)
84. Sideways (2004)
85. The 40 Year-Old Virgin (2005)
86. Y Tu Mamá También (2002)
87. Swingers (1996)
88. Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery (1997)
89. Breaking the Waves (1996)
90. Napoleon Dynamite (2004)
91. Back to the Future (1985)
92. Menace II Society (1993)
93. Ed Wood (1994)
94. Full Metal Jacket (1987)
95. In the Mood for Love (2001)
96. Far From Heaven (2002)
97. Glory (1989)
98. The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)
99. The Blair Witch Project (1999)
100. South Park: Bigger Longer & Uncut (1999)

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what is it about big changes that makes everything seem different? it’s like suddenly seeing the world through a different set of eyes. everything shiny and bright around the edges with newness.

i forgot how much i enjoy change. i thrive on change. change is one of the few constants of my life.

and yet somehow i’d forgotten that. this job was the longest job i’ve ever had. london is the second longest place i’ve ever lived.

how could i forget how exhillarating change is?

i hate leaving people behind – i have left good friends behind with lumpy throat and wet eyes more times than i care to remember.

and yes, it’s a bit nervewracking. more than a bit sometimes. but i never regret it.

and somehow i ended up in this rut, where it seemed all i could see were the high, nondescript walls of the groove i had fallen into… and i forgot what it is like to have a view of all options spread about before me like a lush landscape thick with new greenery.

a clean break, fresh start. heart thudding, nerves awake, eyes wide.

i’ve missed this.

eels – fresh feeling

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eighteen months after i returned to the same unfilled post when we came back from our travels, ten months after i realised it had become insufferable, and six months after i began job searching in earnest…tomorrow is finally, blessedly, my last day at work.

a few months ago, i actually sat down and wrote out all the myriad reasons and examples of why i needed to leave. i shared it with a few close friends and they were shocked. it took up three full pages in times new roman 10pt, and was peppered with phrases like:

i have been increasingly marginalised… i am not supervised in any formal manner… my manager let my contract lapse and i was nearly made redundant…my job is ill-defined… my work load is not planned…my manager takes credit for my work… my manager lies…my manager is chaotic… i often end up feeling that my work is useless, and that my time has been wasted… when i tell people my job title i feel like a fraud…

i’m keeping it as a reminder. never again will i allow myself to suffer so.

the oaks – epilogue, celebration

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so i’m getting a little apprehensive about my new job. last night i had an unexpected flood of anxiety as i was lying there trying to drift off – a sudden overload of doubt and insecurity ran up and down my nerves, twanging my synapses awake into a whirring cycle of worry, making sleep impossible.

i’m not at all sure where this is coming from. when it comes to work, i’ve almost always felt soundly confident in my ability to learn and adapt quickly, to perform above expectations, and to integrate my skills and experience to any new situation. in short, i’m damn good at my job. it’s one of the things i’ve always prided myself on and felt secure in.

what i will admit, though, is that adapting to the arcane environment that is local government, has been a steep learning curve – it’s a completely different system to that of the u.s., and the council workplace is one where my natural personality can be a liability rather than a strength. i’m frequently too eager, too forthright, too opinionated in a workplace that more often values quiet reserve, common convention and deference to unspoken politics. and over the 5 years at my current workplace, that hasn’t changed… but over time, as people got to know me, i have become more accepted for my foreign quirks. people have gotten used to my unconventional approach, because they’ve gotten used to *me*.

i’m still strange to them – but i’m no longer a stranger.

and at a new job, i’ll have to start all over again. this is where the doubt creeps in – this uncertainty about fitting in. about not only being the unknown outsider, but the outsider who still doesn’t always get the social cues. it took me five long years at my current workplace to prove myself, to get comfortable, to make friends, to figure it out.

and i’ve just put myself back at square one.

supertramp – goodbye stranger

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the only apt word for both what’s happened to any pretense of democracy… and for any hopes that this time could be different.

Robert Mugabe apparently retained his presidential post Sunday after the opposition candidate dropped out of this week’s runoff because, he said, asking Zimbabweans to vote was asking them to risk their lives.

“The courageous people of Zimbabwe, of this country, and the people of the MDC have done everything humanly and democratically possible to deliver a new Zimbabwe and new government,” candidate Morgan Tsvangirai said after a closed-door meeting of his Movement for Democratic Change.

…

“We in the MDC have resolved that we will no longer participate in this violent, illegitimate sham of an election process,” Tsvangirai said, adding that it would be dangerous forZimbabweans to castballots.

“We in the MDC cannot ask them to cast their vote on the 27th when that vote could cost them their lives…”

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thus far this june has been a typical london summer – mostly cool and grey. but with the official start of summer yesterday, i need some sunny songs to fill in where the weather won’t…

Marlena Shaw – California Soul
Kings of Leon – Fans
Sounds Under Radio – Portrait of a Summer Thief
Narrator – Panic at Puppy Beach
Death Cab for Cutie – Summer Skin
Jose Gonzales – Stay in the Shade

edited to add: i was asked very nicely (and very quickly) to take one of the songs down. fair enough. so if there’s a gap, that’s why.

MP3 playlist (M3U)

and here’s the feed for downloads.

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a mate of mine has been having a rough week, so we met up for a drink after work last night. meandering around, we stumbled onto a new place in balham i hadn’t seen before – a mexican cocktail bar! i wasn’t quite sure what a “mexican cocktail bar” comprised at first, and having had my share of truly awful “mexican” food here in london, (and lots of barely passable tex-mex), i was skeptical that there could be anyplace even remotely authentic just down the street from me.

i’m happy to report, it was really good! they don’t do a massive variety (mostly taquitos and tostadas, appetizer and more “snacky” type stuff) which is probably just as well, but what they do was very tasty and was accompanied by many, many authentic mexican beers. my friend and i had a small raft of negra modelos, and they were very reasonably priced for being import.

i didn’t get a chance to check out the margaritas, but that’s okay – it gives me an excuse to go back

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i really don’t understand this kind of reporting:

first female british soldier killed in afghanistan

surely a woman’s death is no more or less tragic than the 105 deaths of the british men who’ve been killed.

and if a woman’s death is seen to be somehow more inhumane… if it makes us stop and think about the senseless loss of another life… then we should ask ourselves what the hell we’re actually fighting for. how did we get to this place?

mother, daughter, father or son – all loss of life in war is equally senseless. there is no war without death, and every single soldier or civilian killed is an scathing indictment of our colossal failure to achieve peace.

josh ritter – girl in the war

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fan-tastic.

today i received a letter from the local hospital telling me my personal information and confidentiality was breached. apparently my information, and that of several thousand patients, was stored on one of a few laptops which were stolen.

according to them:

it is our policy to store such data on secure central network drives…however due to a problem with the network drive this data was being stored temporarily on the laptops…

yeah, i know what “temporary” means. it means those laptops were sitting there long enough for someone to suss out what the value was, where they were stored, and how to best steal them without getting caught.

and i’m supposed to trust all these agencies that want to store even more of my sensitive information? right now some dude is running around with my name, address, birthdate and some boring information about my ovaries. but what if instead of my hospital number, it were my passport number and “secure biometric data”? or my national insurance number and credit report? or my dna?

fuck that.

south san gabriel – trust to lose

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congrats to my fantabulous celtics, who won franchise championship number 17 last night! the first in 22 years.

they won in commanding fashion, blowing out the lakers at home by 131 to 92. unfortunately i missed being able to see any of it…but it’s still pretty sweet to revel in the celebration

as dan shaughnessy wrote:

They are not your old man’s Celtics. No black canvas high-tops. No cigar smoke wafting toward the Garden rafters from the Boston bench. No behind-the-back passes from Cooz, and no Larry Legend smashing his face on the parquet floor.

But the 2007-08 Boston Celtics are champions of the world, worthy successors to the men your dad always told you about.

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i love my cat. it was my idea to get a cat, i asked permission from the landlord, i found zeke, i insisted we get zeke. j was happy enough to go along with my need for a cat, but never having lived with a cat before, he was somewhat indifferent to actually getting one.

i feed zeke, i take him to the vet, i take care of the litter, i buy him toys.

and so it’s only fitting that it should be jonno that zeke mews piteously for every time he walks out the door, jonno he follows slavishly from room to room. only fitting that it’s jonno he curls up with on the bed, jonno he plays with endlessly, jonno whose lap he climbs into in the evenings.

i hate to admit it but it’s true: my cat has made me jealous of my husband.

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one of the many highlights this weekend was getting to see james yuill play again.

i’ve enjoyed him since seeing him last year at the wye festival, and there’s just something really endearingly geeky and awkward about him that appeals. he plays what’s been termed “folktronica” by some folks, but is really just a lovely melange of acoustic guitar and delicate electric pings and beeps, sometimes with an insistent thumping undercurrent, sometimes not.

if you like “the postal service” at all, you’ll like him. i’m keeping my eyes open for future gigs.

here’s a video for his latest releasee, “no surprise”

and here’s a crappy snippet of video i shot at the festival this weekend. the backup vocals are too loud so it looks like he’s singing with a girl’s voice.

check him out at his website, and listen to his music here or on his myspace page. it’s rare that you find someone new that you enjoy enough to want to share with others…

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we didn’t get rained on – yay!

i did, however, freeze my unmentionables off every night. i’ve never missed jonno more…

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heading off tomorrow afternoon for a weekend music festival. folksy music, camping, friends…

…and of course, it being mid-june in britain, it’s supposed to be damp and chilly all weekend. it’d be depressing if i hadn’t actually predicted it from the beginning! ah well, it’ll still be fun.

my only reservation is that there’s supposed to be fancy dress on the saturday evening. me: i’m not a joiner. and i really can’t see myself pulling together a full costume in addition to the 3 days worth of food and clothes and camping shit i have to organise and drag through a cowfield. you have to wonder about the logic behind that: camping… and costumes?? it’s like, “we’ll have a thousand unshowered drunk people in wellies and tents and portaloos… i *know*, let’s have a costume party!” fancy dress is fun and has its place… on *halloween*. the one day brits don’t dress up. go figure.

call me a party pooper if you like – i’ll be the one without glitter stuck in my hair on sunday morning

see y’all on the other side…

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i’m in full on countdown mode at work, with only 10 days left in the office. i have a bunch of stuff i’m supposed to be doing, but i can’t seem to force myself to buckle down and care – i’ve already given blood, sweat, and tears to this job, and if anyone deserves to coast for the next two weeks, i reckon it’s me.

in the meantime, i feel lighter and lighter with each passing day, which is all the confirmation i really needed that leaving was the right decision. this weight i’ve been carrying around for nearly a year now is finally lifting. it reminds me of that trick from childhood, where you stand in a doorway, pressing your arms against the sides with all your might… but when you finally walk through to the other side and stop pressing, your arms float upward, as if of their own accord.

which leaves only the matter of my leaving “do”. tradition dictates that i invite all my colleagues to an either an afternoon lunch or evening drinks, that there be a present and a goodbye speech. needless to say, i’m not one to be bound by tradition. my pathological boss has been pressuring me about this – she has a compulsion to put on a “good show”, despite the fact that almost everyone knows the reason i’m leaving is because of her insanity… and i suspect she knows this as well. but nevermind.

so i told her i didn’t want to have a lunch or drinks thing – that i didn’t want a lot of attention or fuss, and that since it was *my* last day, i shouldn’t have to be uncomfortable if i don’t want to. i told her that what i was going to do instead was bring in a bunch of cakes and sweets and biscuits for my colleagues and friends to enjoy as my way of saying goodbye. that suits my personality – low key and sugary

so what does she do instead??! sends an email to half of the entire adult services department, inviting them to *bring a dish* and come say goodbye at lunchtime on my last day!! she has completely co-opted my last day to suit *her* needs, and (in her smarmy way) acting as though she’s giving me a big sendoff as well!! instead of my nice low key fairy cakes and chocolate treats afternoon tea, i’m now being forced to host a potluck luncheon.

it just completely underscores everything i’ve ever hated about working under her – that even on what should be a jubilant day of freedom, she would find a way to hold me hostage to her agenda and trap me into something i don’t want.

sigh. 10 days and counting…

bad religion – honest goodbye

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one of the great joys of life is that no matter how old you get, you’re constantly changing and learning.

except… not so fucking joyful when you change from a previously *non-hayfever sufferer* to a massive hayfever sufferer. and not so joyful when you learn that hayfever feels like someone has stuffed your sinus cavities full of big wads of that pink fiberglass insulation.

oh my god, i’ve never known such misery existed. itchy, painful, congested, drippy, puffy, pressure.

that is all.

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there’s a little coffee shop around the corner from us. actually, there are two.

one is a more posh looking “starbucks” style shop, with minimalist modern furnishings and frosted glass windows, advertising free wi-fi. it’s been open since we’ve moved to this area. i’ve never been in there – mostly because, for a coffee shop, they bizarrely don’t seem to open before 10:00 am.

the other is just across the street from the posh place, and it opened about 6 months after we moved here. it was previously a greasy spoon cafe, which was gutted and re-opened as a mom-and-pop coffee and tea shop. i walked past it every day as it was undergoing the endless renovations, and every day i would see this little old genteel-looking gentleman wearing a fedora and a suitjacket in the shop, sitting having a cup of coffee, going over bluepints. and when it finally opened, it had refashioned itself as an intimate little coffee nook, with a old-fashioned curio cabinet full of pastries and glass stands displaying fresh cakes. it looked cute and cozy – and as always, the little old man with the fedora was there every day, reading the paper, sipping an espresso, or smoking his slim, brown cigarettes.

it looked like the kind of warm, inviting neighbourhood place that you feel good about patronising. and i kept meaning to go in, i really did….yet somehow, i never quite made it.

but i kept walking past it every day. and at first there seemed to be a reasonable trickle of patrons sitting at the little scattered tables, enjoying their lattes and muffins on mismatched china. but after several months, it looked as though the trickle had started to dry up. seeing a customer inside slowly became the exception rather than the rule. a few months later, there was a sandwichboard propped outside the storefront which advertised their homemade soups and made-to-order sandwiches. it didn’t appear to have the desired effect. a few months after that, there was a puzzling new sign for biryanis, chips and curries. they started opening earlier and staying open later.

and yet, the shop stayed empty. except for the little old man in the hat. he was there early. he was there late. he was always there.

and then, a few weeks ago, they installed several computers at one wall. they attached a little paper sign to the sandwichboard advertising their internet cafe services.

upon seeing this, my heart sank. there is more than a hint of desperation to this recent development. the street is already full of grotty internet cafes, kebab shops and curry houses.

and my heart sank because somewhere, deep down, i know that what i am watching is the long, slow, downward spiral of that little old man’s long-cherished dream. that little man, with his careful dress, and his old-fashioned hat, is slowly haemorrhaging to death from a thousand tiny disappointments. for every person that walks past without stopping, his humble goal gets further and further away. it makes my chest ache just to think about it.

and in some strange way, i also feel responsible. as if, because i did not do my part to try to contribute to the success of his homespun business, i am somehow complicit in its failure. i did nothing to support it, therefore by omission, i helped bring it down. i get a twinge of guilt in my gut every time i walk past and see the empty tables accusing me.

empty except, of course, for the little old man and his fedora. it’s probably just my imagination projecting, but his brow seems heavier, his shoulders more stooped. he stands in the door, waiting with anticipation for customers that never arrive.

i’ve still never been in for a cup of coffee.

i doubt i ever will.

death cab for cutie – a movie script ending

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i’m almost afraid to type this… but i think jonno may have quit smoking again.

i’m afraid to write it, because i don’t want to jinx it. it’s funny – he does it without any fanfare or attention. without even mentioning it, in fact. which means i only noticed yesterday evening that i hadn’t seen him smoke in more than a day. which would make this day 3.

the last time he quit, he stayed quit for 9 months. it was the longest he’d been quit since he started smoking at 12 or 13 years old. he swore he didn’t have any cravings or inclinations. i’d allowed myself to relax and stop being on guard against disappointment. and then i came back from a holiday, and he’d started again. i was gutted, absolutely gutted.

i love him to pieces, and i want so much for him to be healthy. so i’ve got my fingers, toes, and nosehairs crossed that it will stick this time.

after all, it only has to stick once.

nick drake – been smoking too long

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such a bittersweet feeling. part of me is thrilled the democratic nomination process is over, and my candidate of choice won.

the other part of me is genuinely sad that there won’t be a female president this time around. i’ve often said i thought there would be a black president before there was a female president… but boy, would i have loved to be proven wrong.

there’s a lot of analysis about what happened, and i tend to agree with those that say she had an opportunity to be a fresh-faced historic first… and she blew it because she insisted on painting herself as the experienced, hardened old guard instead. when stacked up against a campaign emphasising hope and idealism, anything else can only look depressing and cynical.

but what i don’t understand is this massive animosity towards her. or the idea that her female supporters won’t vote for obama unless she’s his vice presidential nominee. it implies a level of crab-in-the-pot syndrome and blind, bitter loyalty that’s downright nasty. it’s been said there are some Hillary supporters who would vote for *any* woman. and sure, there are some women who would vote for Hillary as a preferred qualified candidate, all other things being equal, because she’s a woman. that’s called affirmative action. but to suggest that people would vote for her without any regard for her ability to *do the job* is just insulting to women voters. and the idea that those same supporters are so rabidly hysterical that they would cut off their nose to spite their face by voting against obama, is just ludicrous. when it comes down to it, being a sore loser doesn’t help anyone’s cause – and definitely not the cause of women’s rights. you only have to have a quick look at mccain’s voting record to realise that.

has she been strategising and scheming and spinning? of course. but she’s behaved no worse than hundreds of other *male* candidates who came before her – and probably better than many. yet when people discuss her candidacy, they do so with a kind of venom i’ve never heard before.

the invisible undercurrent to this entire primary season has been a sotto voce “bitch“ . i think our national reaction to her campaign says much more about us, than it does about Hillary Clinton as a person and a woman politician. and frankly, it’s really disgusted me. you don’t have to be a Hillary supporter to feel outraged at the treatment she’s received. you don’t have to be a woman to be outraged at the treatment she’s received.

win or lose, she deserved so much better. she may not have broken through that glass ceiling completely, but she managed to put a big ol’ crack in it.

so here’s to you, Hillary. i may not have always agreed with your politics, but i damn sure admired you as a fearless groundbreaker, a fierce competitor who could stand toe-to-toe with any of the “old boys club”… and as a woman i would have been proud to call my commander-in-chief.

because of you, a few more little girls today believe they can grow up to be some of the most powerful and important leaders of the world.

and i have no doubt that one of them will most definitely be a future president of the united states of america.

kate bush – this woman’s work

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