Day 574: Shove it up your Arse

The weirdest thing - a telephone interview this morning. It all happened in a flurry last night. I'm not looking for a job - I do so many lovely things which I enjoy very much - and this job seems to combine a whole stash of them in one regular bit of employment. It's not an either or kind of situation, though. Let's see what happens next.

The woman I spoke to was fabulous and she didn't seem to mind me describing the very strange place I found myself in (a white, strip-lit room with rows of pvc-seated white chairs - it was like being in A Clockwork Orange). And then there was the butterfly. I think it was a Red Admiral. Whatever it was, it was in the weirdy sixties room, just fluttering about. Good lord, that's all I can say. I sent her a photo of it. No justice to it was done by that, but it felt like the right thing to do before taking it outside in a cup and setting it free. 

And then I got to play. I love Neil and Bindu and I love that they love working together and I love that I get to do this for my actual job. We got the giggles really, really badly in our scene. Thank GOD it was Neil (who owns the company) or I'd have felt really bad about that. It was funny, though. Our rapport-building turned into images of a grown man chasing a feeder ball around the floor at work, scrabbling for cat-biscuits. 

I had a smooth and safe journey back. I smiled with a stranger (always a boost) and chatted to another in glee when I found out that the reason I couldn't find my posh gloves was that I'd left them on the back of my bike when I locked the bike up almost two days earlier, and they were still there.




AAAAANNNNDD then I went to clown course and I was shit again, especially shit right at the end, and the teacher said 'we don't like her, do we, let's be honest' and I decided to let that cloud me all the way home. I laughed at myself (somewhere around Canonbury) when I noticed the shape of the thought spiral I'd entered into, all victimy, so I had a game of 'poor me' out loud on my bike... poor me, I'm not very funny, poor me, I never have been and I never will be, poor me nobody likes me (etc.. and SO much worse and more habitual). I did it and outdid it until I couldn't take myself seriously at all. 

Then a man demanding a sandwich got the tiniest bit arsey when I offered him a banana instead and off I went again, but for less time this time. It's a shoddy habit, doing victim-head. It doesn't help anyone, least of all me. So shove your (my) banana up your arse, sandwich-demander. And shove my (your) banana up my arse, me, for needing that man to appreciate my offer. Let's just collectively shove a load of things up our arses, metaphorically, metaphyisically or just literally... I'll leave that bit up to you. 

Oooh, that's better.

Day 573: Shaving the Bacon

Bacon beard

I've just been to a horrible little hotel room - really, really nasty. It was a shed, actually, at the back of a pub, just outside where the smokers go out. When the (absolutely lovely) guy behind the bar led me there, I thought he was about to push me down into the cellar. It kind of felt like he had. It smelt so damp and wrong that I went and bought air freshener (which, as we all know, is the Devil's coughy lung-up). The bed was so narrow that if I'd so much as had an extra thought in the night, I'd have fallen out. Double yellow lines couldn't have slept in it. 

Bacony legs. By Francis Bacon

I sat down to use the internet (don't knock it, I thought. End up in a Jurys Inn and there's no such thing as internet access unless you're prepared to pay £14 a day for the privilege) and I was cold. I turned on the heater. Half an hour later and still in my coat, I was still cold. And then the brass band started up. I'm not shitting you. I went and had a look. There were about 25 of them rehearsing in the room that backs onto where I was. Not the point - they would have finished early and, had the bed been big enough to get into and the temperature warm enough to remove clothes, even for a second, to change into others, then I could have done both.

Then I thought 'I'm in luck... I don't have to do this' so I went and asked nicely to change rooms - not TO SOMETHING FIT FOR A HUMAN, as my shouty self might have led with - but just so. Clear, firm, friendly. I have no doubt I would have got my wish, and I'm pretty sure I'd have paid the same rate, only there weren't any other rooms. The hotel/inn/shed complex was fully booked. As was pretty much every hotel in Newbury, affordable or not. Except one. It was nearly twice the price and I'm paying personally (which never happens normally) but here we are... 

The Bacon Arms! Never stay there!

And at almost twice the price, it is at least five times as good. The bathroom is genuinely bigger than the first room (and it's not THAT big). The staff were as lovely as the other guy, so that's on a par. One got really excited about my room and my view, though, which was nice. Evidently, it being really dark, I had no idea I even had a view. The room is four times the size of the one I'm living in. I've ignored the telly. The bed was lovely and despite being a very old building, it's warm enough. And they gave me a tenner to spend in the bar, which was nice of them (oh, the days when that would have resulted in a bad head and a crappy day's work the next day - not any more). 

So, I'm off to do a cartwheel before I go to work, and I'm feeling very grateful about my decision, and the capacity to do this. Oh, and thank you, Lynden, for the tip about paying for expenses on a credit card. That's ace, that is.

Day 572: Slurp

It's a shame I'm not asleep yet. I need to be. There are things that need to be said first.

What a fine and fantastic meeting with John-Paul today. I am excited, revitalised and inspired. It was followed by a lovely final call with the women I've been working with over the past few months. It ended a little bit abruptly, but I suspect that was a blessing. I've learnt SUCH a lot and I'm very grateful indeed. 

A fabulous outdoor rehearsal with Simon Veal, including a fairly moving scene with a monster, a large amount of laughing and lots of silent scenes. And then a trip up to confirm the flat, meet the lovely German landlordandlady and to see my new sharepeople again. The dog spent most of my visit licking my hands as if it was his actual job. Good stuff, tiny dogface. Greg was a pleasure too. I'm excited about this. 

Day 571: Rrrrrufff!

Thank goodness for the blossom, showing off its pretty beauty and lifting up the early spring greyness just by being. I’ve seen whites and pinks and even gaudy yellows (though I wonder if I dreamed that – I’ve only seen it once, though I’ve been past the same spot many times).

Thank goodness for time. Two years ago, a little less, my already ex-boyfriend and I took a walk in Richmond Park. Big things were said, and though we were both kind, I think, it was sad and some crying happened, certainly on my part. What he said on that day has finally started to make sense to me, thanks to a friend who seems to find it hard to accept the good I see in him. What I said, apparently, was along the lines of ‘this is hard now, but one day we’ll both look back on this and smile’.

Yesterday, I had the pleasure, honour, blessing of having that smiling moment. We walked, through Hackney this time, but still with an element of park. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him since he’s been back, but it’s the first time we’ve spent a bit of time just us. We talked and laughed. We had a cup of tea. And then I gave him a clingy turquoise dress to wear in his act. I can’t wait to see it! I will have to wait, because I’m not around on the day that he’s next doing it, but I’m looking forward to seeing this man making the most of my sequins and making people laugh. Thank you. I have no words.

 

Thank you, universe and spareroom.com, for providing me with a place to live that I’m really looking forward to. Sitting on a hill in Highgate, equipped with a lovely man and his lovely dog in all its regal tininess, with views coming out of its ears and a vegetably garden to enjoy too… And thank you for the Best Tenancy Agreement Ever, which includes a clause instructing cuddles of said tiny, regal dog. That’s the contract for me. It’s a big fat YES (much bigger than tiny Aristotle).

 

Thank you for an auberginey dinner and lots of talking with strangely-connected Aly, a great find in the street next to my current place, after a long six months of not seeing each other.

Amazing chat with beautiful Emily Wilkinson, who was out walking her dog (resulting, not THAT surprisingly, in my barking at full pelt down the phone. In a busy café. Not on purpose).  

Day 570: Tiny Woof

I am grateful for this: 

I will explain... tomorrow.

Day 569: The Face of Integrity

the face of integrity

I acted with integrity today. I'm pleased about that. For now, that is all. 

Day 568: Lighter

Already, the depths have passed, in passing. Today consisted of a lovely job with some delicious people to play with and to 'work' with. Great conversation, curly sandwiches and meaty trying things out. We did a lot of laughing in my small group. It was great fun. It was a luxury to have such a small group, and so engaged.

Other things to be grateful for: Easy texts, a lightness that wasn't there yesterday, Fiona Sweny, Jessica Loudon, the fact that it's Lilley Harvey's birthday and Lilley Harvey loves her birthday; a good old play with the Betties; the fact that I'm not dead, despite nearly catching it in a classic 'left turn from right lane' lorry moment which, luckily, I spotted, and whizzed onto the pavement. 

I am grateful for the fact that I wasn't on facebook today. Fuck, that does a person good! And for my bed, which is both firm and soft, and into which I am about to melt.

Day 567: It's All About the Love

So long, no practice. I'm feeling the pinch of drinking life in bitter little sips, ignoring the oceans of goodness that are always, always there. 

Beautiful people fed me beautiful food and spread their warm and lovely energies all around last night. I'm grateful for that. 

I'm experiencing a whole load of emotion at the moment. This groundlessness and lovelessness. It's all about the love and here's this fear of risking it and this carefulness and holding. Nobody will let go of that for me. Nobody will come and strip it away (will they?). And nobody will rip off the blinkers to all the love available in the world, all these fine friends and potential communities. It's up to me. Nobody said it was easy. Nobody said it wasn't. It just is

I know this will pass. I know I can't afford to just wait it out and I know that on some of its levels, it's all I can do. And I know that other things go on all around, and there are such good times in every day. For this, and for all of it, of course, I am grateful.

Day 566: Nun dog

This, but with no tail

Love is the thing, see. It just is. As soon as all that tension went... a home arrived. Lovely place: found. Short term, long term, who knows, but somewhere to go on Friday with bags, and Sunday after my weekend away. I'm not saying that the cosmos delivered the place as a reward... I'm saying that once I was open and breathing again, counting my blessings instead of my navel notches, I was open to see what a gift this place, and this person, is. Thank you. Deep like mine shafts of thank you. When it's the place, it's instant. I'd said yes before I'd left the living room, pretty much. Not where I expected or in the situation I expected, but just right for just now, and I'm giddy with it. Nicole, I owe you big time... you are a gentle and lovely creature and I'm flowing gratitude out of my pores. 

I'm just saying, there are options

Now I need to remember this. I have been so tense about other things too. Remember that idea that pain is information... that jealousy is a useful steer... that tension is just like a baby trying to tell you something's up... it might not be able to articulate what yet, but the message is clear. So having tension all about loving relationships... that's all information. Breathe into it. Feel it. Let it be, rather than shouting it down. That's a lot more likely to lead me where I want to be, rather than running in circles, chasing an imaginary tail and barking at my own arse.

I think that's enough for today. Here's to the future, and a different kind of woof.

Day 565: A Victim of String

Thank you. I've just (over the last 24 hours) understood that I've been operating in victim mode about a situation and believing myself, believing that the intensity of my discomfort was to do with the situation. That's just not true. The intensity of my discomfort has been my own doing. Weirdly, this isn't taking the form of a big stick for self-pummelling... it's a total gift. 

The situation itself is difficult for everyone involved, and in fact it just is. It can't really be helped - this is what the situation is. We struck a balance - possibly a misguided one - which seemed fair but in fact (although I can only hypothesise about the other person's perception at the moment) has probably been less than helpful for both of us. I can't regret it as such. We both did what we felt was right at the time, and it's only in the doing that the consequences show. I must remember that the next time I feel crippled by indecision. It's an old truism but it's, you know, true.

My commitment to being the victim of the situation made it so bad that I lost sleep, fretted constantly and threw myself into one of those over-quoted 'dark nights of the soul' - though of course if you'd asked me yesterday, I'd have told you I'd been thrown, and it definitely wasn't my fault. Ha! It's so funny looking at it from where I am right now and so not funny when I'm wrapped up in it like tangled string. The situation hasn't changed. The approach has.

Lovely singing man (whose name I don't seem to be able to retain even though I know him) flipped me out of it inadvertently, and a couple of other little realisations... like the fact that things not being exactly as I would like them to be (in any context) has nothing to do with right or wrong, good or bad, self-worth or the lack of it. And that old chestnut - that non-violent communication starts inside my head. If I speak to myself like as enemy I've invented, I have robbed myself of a foundation from which to be compassionate to other people. 

Thank you, various people, for the gifts you've given me. Rob, as so often, with acceptance and wisdom; Ruth, with laughter, proscuitto muffins and more; Nicole, so generous; lovely singing man; people whose naming feels weird and possibly misinterpretable, so I won't, but I am grateful. Phooo. That's better.