The other day Z and I had a brief conversation about possibly officially living together from next year and what that would be like.
N: (misty eyed dreaminess) Do you think we’d be happy if we lived together?
Z: Well, I don’t know. I mean what is happiness? And how can we know anything at all of the future? But if we add up all the variables that we currently have at our disposal than we may see that it seems that we are happy so far and for practical purposes, if you’re thinking about it we’re already living together now. I mean in the beginning we were seeing each other three or four times a week, but now it’s rare that there is a day off.
By which I mean to say that I am enjoying very much spending all this time with you my love. Er.
Awwwww. He’s learning and trying hard, bless him. It's so cute.
My selection of favourite things which hailed in the New Year:
1) a text which moved me and an email which made me laugh
Many things happened, and I was worse but now I'm better because I whinged to my Nice Therapist (thus distinguished from the Irritating NHS one) and went and had my hair cut and dyed, therefore quite possibly winning the Hair Wars at verlaine's party.
Ah, Hair Wars. That glorious time of highlit supremacy.
I still haven't quite recovered from my vacation because the last few days I ended up having a mini-breakdown.
I feel restless in my skin:
Spiked and melancholy and off-center;
As though inside I am not woven of blood and bone but of tundra and wolf howls. Of sleek panthers and lions and leopards pacing, pacing.
It's Orthodox Easter! Or in the Words of Chris:
"Christ is Risen! [at least in the orthodox nations, i don't know what happens to the heretic northern european dogs, they will probably burn in hell anyway]."
Today has started out as a pretty dreadful day.
A while back I was cleaning the house, and organising my papers and photographs when I came across my unfinished sketches for paintings and the little case of guache and suddenly painting seemed much more important than cleaning, so I covered the floor with newspapers and my face and hands with streaks of blue and made:
Happy Birthday to that cutie and icon-wizard dubaiyan!
Alas my holiday is no more and I've returned to work which has celebrated my arrival with people getting killed or married all over the place and I feel like I've spent so much time on the phone to Social Services that my lover ought to suspect that I'm having an affair.
Argh, I have been muchly silent and absent my dears seeing how I've been landed with one woe after another the past two weeks.
I am now engaged to my boyfriend in spirit since last night when I was poorly he came bearing DVDs, pizza and toilet paper and thus having proved himself to be an adequate provider for all my needs I proclaimed him in my heart to be my life partner. If he’d chucked in some tacky jewellery with that pizza or even better some tacky religious memorabilia we would have been looking for a priest right then.