One of the guys

I’ve spent a lot of today eating rubbish, drinking Coke and watching the game. How about them Vikings huh? Oh and did you see Brett Favre’s version of “Pants on the Ground” which was, I’ll admit was a lot cooler once I understood the reference.  Hay, I live in the UK – I’m allowed to be out of the American Idol loop, even though I have to admit a bit of a crush on Simon Cowell that calls my sanity into question. I went straight onto the Jets/Chargers match up without even a timeout.  After that, I was suffering from a massive testosterone overdose and I had to turn to a couple of hours of  Dress Heels Jewelry and “who are you wearing?” in the form of the Golden Globes Red Carpet show just to remind myself that I am, in fact, a chick. Previous years I’ve been all over the fashion and the glamour, even the gossip. Did you see Mariah Carrey’s dress not quite covering her tits enough to stop me mistaking her for someone who has sex for a living? Do you, like me, prefer Drew Barrymore with dark hair, love that Sandra Bullock came dressed in purple (actually I just love Sandra Bullock… yay for her win).  I’m totally made up that Helen Mirren and Meryl Streep were giving lessons in classy as I think I’ll add them to my role models list. And as for Heidi Klum…well that girl just owns sexy in a way that makes her destined to be envied but never equaled by us mere mortal women (God like powers is the only reasonable explanation, clearly!)…  but this year i have a confession…*whispers* I had more fun with the football. Crap… what happened to me!? 

While  I am not your pink fluffy kind of girly princess  (make it purple and sparkly and I’m so there) its true my reasons for choosing which side to root for this NFL filled Sunday were totally based on female logic. I don’t like Tony Romo and the Vikings wear purple. I liked the Jets when I was in NJ because my brother/dad loved the Giants and I’m contrary like that.   And yet, recently I’m becoming more and more disconcerted by the realization that, in a disturbing number of ways, stereotypically at least, I’m so the guy in this relationship.  You know, the one who refuses to cook, doesn’t know how to work a washing machine, almost kicks KM out of the room when its “baseball time”, can’t hear a thing when the football’s on TV and NEVER “has a headache”. I’m seriously in danger of letting out a belch or two without gagging. if I suddenly start scratching my groin in public SHOOT ME ! 

Before you start thinking… saying KM is my bitch out loud… he is in no way shape or form feminine. Seriously, he could be mistaken for a cave man. Dude speaks fluent grunt, laughs at his own farts and won’t wear pants if he thinks he can get away with it. Far be it from me to insult his manhood and I’d advise you not to do so either, but that’s enough about him.

When did I lose this sense of myself as a woman?  When I think about It, I laugh at the ridiculous notion that anyone could find me attractive and not see me as defunct, broken, useless, carrying too much weight with awful tits.

My body failed to develop any form of breasts. My mum took me to buy a bra more out of pity (everyone else had them) than actual need. She kept telling me reassuring stories about how all the women in my family got theirs after they had kids (fat lot of use that is to me now. Nature is withholding motherhood and apparently breasts too!?) Yeah it sucked, but most people get over it right? Not me. I can’t stand mine; I can’t cope with anyone drawing attention to them in any way. I get thrown off… shudder… and have to look the other way if God forbid KM should touch them even though I enjoy the sensation. It’s nuts and that’s why I will personally bitch slap anyone who says I’m planning a boob job for anyone other than me. Let’s face it I’m fighting a losing battle really, when the pair of us could be the reincarnation of Shrek and Fiona shaving side by side in the bathroom mirror each morning… no, I haven’t quite been reduced to that yet.

I seriously need to… what is the opposite of man up??

Ali xX

Good to be home

We’re hoooome! YAY.  Hello 2010. We survived… just. We’ll forget the fact that I’m freezing my a$$ off in a house that’s so cold I’m sat here writing in my new warm bright red winter coat (thanks Mum). I know, you’re giggling at my melodramatics, but it’s not just me. Honest. KM also has his winter hat on to cover his ears ‘cause they were too cold. Couple that with his über-sexy Incredible Hulk t-shirt and you realize that we’re really going for sexy in the Cyster Act household. That will teach us to go away and not have the heating turn on at all for the 4 days we were gone. I think we have now established that KM’s tolerance level is set at about two days when it comes to dealing with my mum. He hardly stopped to say goodbye to her as we were leaving today. The man saw the steps onto the bus and he was off. Home time! All in all, I’m still calling the trip a success because despite KM’s grumpy contrary attitude and my mother’s post midnight rants about my weight, my lack of discipline or self control, the fact that women are mostly better off without a man in their life… I held it together and did not dissolve into a gibbering crying wreck, ready to give up on everything. I’m not doing anything to make my mother proud. Apparently she’s holding onto hope that I’ll wake up and realize I’m too smart to get married and I really aught to go and train as a teacher. Along with this Epiphany will apparently come the knowledge that being unable to have kids is no big deal because they are not worth it and the world is far to cruel. It wouldn’t be fair to bring a baby into the place anyway. Can you tell she over indulged on the champagne a little? But I’m not going to rant and rave and crucify her for it because, well, lots of people do: it was New Years Eve after all. I held my ground. I know what I want to do with my life now and teaching is NOT it. Infertility is a BIG deal to me even if she was not that fussed on having kids. I had my heart set on it. I’m coming to realize that she won’t ever understand. It’s sad and I guess I find it hard to accept, but I love her anyway. Since I don’t appear to feel, I’m not angry about it anymore. The things she says just don’t seem to get under my skin like they used to and that’s a very good thing. I’ll just keep working on myself, my goals, my dreams, doing things that make me proud of myself regardless of her opinion.

Opinions aside, I could see the effort put in on both sides. KM was making some attempts to find mutual topics for conversation that would avoid confrontation. They actually seem to agree on a lot of things. It made me smile to learn a few things about both of the people I care about by listening to them attempting idle chit chat… that and both of them could talk about cooking or gardening for much longer than I have patience to endure.  Mum was making meals containing all his favorite foods from past visits and for three and half days it was all going much better than I ever could have imagined.

Until, that is, KM let things slip. I guess he was tired and fed up needing to go home but by this morning when we left his grumpiness had reached new heights and he was honestly quite rude to my mother. Here’s me stuck in the middle, stressing already, exhausted from all the underlying tension that had been present, even though we’d successfully avoided it bubbling up to the surface. You see how fast these things spiral. I took my mum’s side because, in my opinion, he was at fault. He’s all “you always follow your mother around like a toddler”… aherm… I am no toddler. Mum and I are struggling to move on from the teenage confrontation years, I grant you… BUT TODDLER?!?!  Now we’re on the coach travelling home barely talking… WOW three days. We managed 3 DAYS… but those last 3 hours and it all collapsed like a pack of cards. We had a four hour journey home to get over it. Normal relations have resumed.

Families… ai!

I’m exhausted… back to the grind (college) tomorrow. What a relief!

Ali xX

Ending on a high.

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind
Should auld acquaintaince be forgot
And auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet
For auld lang syne.”

Here we are at the end of the year: about to say goodbye to 2009, end a decade and welcome two thousand and ten or are you a twenty ten person? I’m undecided. It will be a miracle if I’m not still writing 2009 in the middle of February. This year has flown by. I still can’t quite believe it’s about to end. All in all I can say is that 2009 wasn’t that bad. I’m certainly grateful for a number of things.

2009 was the year I: Came out of depression; Stopped having panic attacks on a regular basis; Went back to college; Admitted that I want to pursue Midwifery as a career; Moved towards forgiveness and a better relationship with my mother. I’m feeling so much more hopeful this New Year’s Eve than I was a year ago. Feeling thankful that I still have some good friends out there; thankful that my health has been so much better this year. Grateful that KM and I have been together for the holidays and even thankful that Benji has joined our household to put a smile on my face.

I’m not a New Year’s Resolution kind of person. I have a handful of things I’d like to achieve next year but any time I’ve tried to make a resolution in the past its been history by about the 3rd of January, so this year I’m only going to say one thing and that is that in the first week of January I’m going to evaluate and rewrite my master plan. New Year seems like a good time for that task.

We’re away at my mothers for the New Year’s celebrations. It will be the first time that KM travels with me and stays overnight at my mother’s house and judging by his Facebook comments he’s not looking forward to it one bit: “Practicing his sullen face ready for when he has to spend New Year with the mother-in-law. I should have built up a good sense of churlish bad-temperedness by then.”

I’m a little sad myself. I’d gotten used to watching the Rose Bowl parade and the Winter Classic ice hockey game on New Year’s Day. Gadget Guy’s TiVo is not accessible from my mum’s, but I’m telling myself the New Year is a good time to make an effort to take another step towards a good relationship between us. Wherever you are and however you happen to be celebrating this New Year’s Eve, I hope 2010 brings you great things!

Happy New Year!!

Ali xX

Christmas.

I’m hoping you all had a good Christmas. It turned out lovely over here, starting with waking up on Christmas Eve to find that KM had cleaned the entire kitchen – every single dish. Yes, it looked like Snow White had been in to visit with all her animal friends. We made dinner together and even though it turned into one of those times where I spend so much time working on dinner by the time it’s actually ready to eat I’m just not hungry anymore, cooking was a lot of fun.

My Christmas Eve tradition is to watch Santa Claus The Movie, something I’ve done every year since I was small and watching a worn out old copy taped off the TV and I was still a believer.

I felt the need to go to church on Christmas day. It was oddly peaceful and comforting. The house of God is not a place I’ve visited in years but I’m actually glad I did. I like to say this was a new direction for me that I’ll be going every Sunday from now on. I doubt that’s the case. Being realistic, I’m lazy and getting out of bed on a Sunday morning is hard for me. That’s the sad truth of it. I also don’t believe I necessarily need a church to explore a relationship with god.

Santa was good to us. I found myself curling up with my new book on Christmas evening, feeling a little full of wonderful, if overindulgent food, thinking Christmas at home – just the two of us – turned out rather well.

Ali xX

The path that lies ahead..

I could live here !

I am amazed and actually quite chuffed that I came back from my mum’s feeling not only ok about the whole weekend but actually quite happy! I promise it had noting to do with the visit to IKEA as soon as I stepped off the bus. Man, I love that store but its rather hard to get to without a car and a tad pointless if you don’t  have a house in need of furniture. Still, the apple cake went down a treat hehe…

We got on well the whole time I was there. No fighting, no arguing, no yelling between my mother and I. This is “stop the press” front page news. Mum actually admits that I’m looking a lot better (as in happier) these days which just made me smile because I feel a lot better. Even the few little snide remarks kind of just roll off me much easier than they ever used to.

Even when the university visit didn’t go as planned, we somehow managed to not end up with my mother blaming me. I was amazed. I mean, we were both frustrated having driven all that way (about 4 and a half hours) and not being able to actually see the uni because of a mix up with open day dates. I was able to get an idea of what the town itself is like and I’m so excited that I may be living there next year if all goes to plan. I know it’s a REALLY BIG IF but still I’m excited thinking it might happen, which is ground breaking new optimism from me. Usually I’m a glass half empty kind of girl.

Sunday came – departure day   and here I was thinking I actually could happily stay another few days, feelings that were refreshing to say the least. Then something happened. Have you ever wound up in the middle of a really deep conversation unsure where it’s going or even how you got there? Suddenly I’m aware me mum and I are talking about dad: something we haven’t done in years, certainly not since her divorce came through.

It felt slightly like opening a really old closet and being taken aback as a flurry of moths and musty odor hit you in the face. But rather than slamming the doors shut in disgust and vowing never to open that thing again, we were able to have a calm discussion on the subject to sort of let the dust settle.  I have to admit I was surprised – shocked even – by what I saw when the air had cleared. I felt sorry for her. She seems to be living with some guilt over what happened. She has this sadness when she talks about it that really touched me. I just wanted to hug her. Whatever has happened in the past… this felt like a break through… even just a small one. We have a lot of things to get over, but perhaps because of the time that’s past or because I am getting stronger, I wasn’t feeling the weight of all this anger in the same way I have before. It has always been so raw almost like a suppressed rage. In truth, that Sunday morning I don’t recall feeling angry at all. Upset maybe and definitely so very sad.  I feel like I can see a pathway to forgiveness now and that’s amazing. The thing is, I’m not sure who forgiveness will help more: me or my mum. It definitely felt like a weight off my shoulders. I’m getting through this and for the first time. I actually believe I will get past it. Someday what happened won’t dominate my life.  I will beat it. I won’t let it tear me apart.  These are no longer the words of a desperate woman clinging to hope.  I know I can do it. It’s even better than that. I am doing it.

I know I have so much strength inside me. I survived. I’m here… and I keep fighting when I finally get to grips with all this. There will be no stopping me.

I almost feel like I should add and evil laugh after that spiel “Mwuahahahahaha”

Ali xX

Dumb.

“I’m sorry. I can’t translate it into dumb.”  KM told me as I complained that the redraft he had written of my supporting statement sounded too much like him and not enough like me.  It hurt me to hear him say that even though I know he was only joking. I’m over sensitive to these things particularly at the moment given how much STRESS I feel to get this statement perfect. After trying to explain why I was so upset he compounded the problem by telling me I aught to grow a sense of humor. I have a sense of humor – I just didn’t find it funny.

Is this just me?  Possibly. I know now that as a consequence of my past I have real trouble with people poking at me. I can laugh at myself, sure. The problem comes when you attack my intellect, my ability to understand something or my sense of self worth.  The simple way of explaining it is I don’t have to much confidence or self esteem left,  so I don’t appreciate anyone trying to take some of  what I have  from me even if they are joking.  But the real explanation is I can’t register sarcasm when you’re insulting me. I simply can’t tell if you’re joking and my default setting is to assume you mean what you say.  The nasty stuff is easier to believe – especially when those a young person trusts are reinforcing their judgment by yelling it in your face, driving it home with their fists or worse. If I’m not sure what you think of me, I’ll assume you think the worst.  It’s just the way I’ve been wired.

I’m not dumb. Just because I want MY statement to sound different than how you would write it does not mean I’m stupid.

It’s not that he doesn’t support me. He’s not some evil guy. He’d helped me redraft this darn thing three times already. Overall he’s nothing but encouraging of me at college. Potentially, he’s agreed to move anywhere in the country that will let me in to study midwifery next year. That’s a big deal.

Practically he’s doing everything I could ask and more.

It still doesn’t change that this one throw away remark really bothered me….

Ali xX

Happy ever after ?

30 years ago today… Gadget Guy and his girl were married.

**30 YEARS** What an achievement. No, seriously. That’s like longer than I’ve been alive! So today I find myself looking at another old photo of two smiling friends and wishing I had that time machine set to the 15 of September 1979 just so I could watch and see the people they were then, maybe so I could have a smug smile on my face because I would know this one’s a keeper. This topic has been on my mind a lot lately as me and KM contemplate the possibility of perhaps booking our wedding.  Marriage. The rest of your life.  That is a long time. How do you make these things work anyways? This is Gadget Guy we’re talking about here. He has to have the manual to successful marriage because  the pair of them sure seem to know something few people do these days. It turns out nope, no instruction book to be had :S  I personally reckon they should write one.. There are plenty of other self help books out there. I’m sure it could be a best seller.

KM, this morning after, of course, adding his congratulations turns to me with a sheeks 30 years… you reckon we will have had a good run and got over it by then?  While he was kidding, I know how the man feels.  30 years. I can’t even imagine. Ok maybe I don’t want to. I’m the girl who’s having a minor crisis about her 30th birthday coming up. I can’t see past 31 right now and I was only forced to plan ahead that far as that’s the age I hope to qualify as a midwife.

All I know is its clear to me from the short time I’ve known Mr. and Mrs. Gadget Guy is that there is hope. It can be done. What they have is working. It should be obvious to anyone who takes the time to quietly observe that these two fit together so well it’s scary. I don’t know if they would believe in soul mates but if not they are a pretty good imitation.  Now I could not comment as to what goes on behind the scenes,  but I do know this:  I have never herd either of them bitch about the other and in this day and age that’s refreshing. All I saw were giggles, shared in-jokes and a lifetime of great memories. Two people who clearly still enjoy each other and have fun as much as possible. They don’t seem to be touched by the bitterness that can sometimes be seen between two people who have been married a longtime.  Alongside the old picture,  I wish I could hold all this in a snapshot  the way they are together as I saw them 2 years ago. It’s priceless and should give all the would-be weds reason to stop and think. So that’s just what I did.  I spent the day with my other half foraging for blackberries and laughing myself silly at this grown man so frightened of spiders. He did the heebie-jeebies dance with arms and legs flailing. As he squealed like a girl i fell in love with him all over again. I don’t know if we’ll make 30 years, but I sure hope so. You have to figure some people are just worth the risk of getting hurt.

I’m a “Pretty Woman” girl. Noooo I’m not a hooker, but I certainly have a Cinderella complex. “I want the fairytale”. Today I was thinking about this too. Why is it that so few marriages are passing the 10, 25, 30, 50 year mark? What makes divorce rates these days so high?  Is it that people now feel they have the option where as in years gone by d-i-v-o-r-c-e was taboo and not the done thing? Is it that people these days are to quick to marry?  I have to say this argument is losing its credibility for me lately. The two long-time married couples I know did so in their 20′s and the couples I’ve watched marry certainly seem to have considered the commitment.

Perhaps it’s this last and all together more worrying theory: maybe popular culture is to blame. The fairytales we read, the chick flicks we watch,  the endless stories…  boy meets girl blah… blah… fireworks… champagne… rings… flowers… dresses… weddings… and a happily ever after. The end.  Happily ever after. It sounds so simple doesn’t it?   Prince Charming comes along sweeps you off your feet you get the most fantastic shoes (I told you Cinderella was my favorite ). You marry and everything is wonderful from then on. Your stepsisters have to work in the kitchen and you get on with your love’s parents famously! HA! What a joke, right?   The idea that all you have to do is find THE guy and everything will just take care of itself. Maybe that’s the problem.  Do we in this generation expect to much and compromise to little?

I’m certainly guilty of  fretting about the small stuff,  seeing all the ways in which me and KM differ and worrying that he’s not the perfect guy… that the grass could be greener…  that commitment is too permanent too much like… commitment. Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself that he’s only human.  He’s not Prince Charming . And anyways Prince Charming always seemed a little metrosexual to be my type    We need a new kind of fairytale… where the ending is not about never having any obstacles in your life  but about how couples work together to get through them.  We should spend less time looking for imperfections in our partners but rather trying to fix them in ourselves. Happily ever after shouldn’t be about castles, crowns and fancy dresses but about a girl and a boy living a mundane mid life together with their bunny somewhere outside Chicago and spending a day at the zoo on their pearl wedding anniversary.

It looks pretty good to me.

Ali xX

My little adventure.

When I was little, camping was such an adventure. I still remember fondly creeping outside with my provisions (a few cookies and a glass of juice) and sleeping under the orange and blue canvas of my father’s old scout cub tent. Oh I felt so brave like such a big independent girl but I always woke up with the sunlight and was back indoors so as not to miss my favorite cartoons on a Saturday morning! Camping is something my family has always done. Often when arriving in one town or another someplace in Europe, my mother would declare “you’ve been here before Ali. We were camping and you were in a buggy.” I’m sure she’s right, though oddly I don’t recall.  I’ve even seen proof that my mother was indeed heavily pregnant with my bother on one such occasion and I do not imagine that was much fun for her. Of course I could be wrong. My parents were friends with various couples they had met at one camp site or another in their newly married days, some of whom my mother is still in touch with to this day.

I’m accustomed to camping. In fact, I spent a whole summer in my teens living in a tent while my mother was between addresses. Yes that’s me, my brother, my mum… one tent, one car, one large dog… and a handful of different campsites around the country. This escapade lasted for three months. Maybe it was then that the sense of adventure wore off… or perhaps it’s just that as I’d gotten a bit older I was more used to my creature comforts: A nice warm comfortable bed and a bathroom that does not require a trek across a field in a sleepy daze, having dressed with my shoes on the wrong feet. Maybe you could call me spoiled but I don’t remember aching knees and elbows and a slowly worsening back pain being quite such a feature in those youthful camping adventures… more ouch = less fun that’s for sure.

One thing that I do recall was my fathers awful snoring that led to many many giggles/covering our heads with pillows and teasing… but I don’t remember suffering from lack of sleep. I ALWAYS fell asleep eventually. Ahh those were the days. My adult self sucks at sleep, so you can imagine my “joy” being stuck in a tent with a boy who in everyway is twice the man my father was. Unfortunately this includes the volume of his snoring. Seriously – how did cave women get any rest with this type of rasping, hacking, spluttering, going on? After a while I was worrying about him. It doesn’t half sound like breathing is hard work when he’s asleep and I’m really keen that he should keep doing that breathing thing after all.  On the bright side there was no need to be frightened of wild animals.  Nothing alive would dare approach the beast inside this tent!  I’m sure the fact that EVERYONE in the field with us packed up and left the next day had much more to do with the fact it was a Sunday and people with jobs have that to get home for… but maybe they were running scared. I dunno.

You have got to love the sound of rain on canvas though. All tucked up in my sleeping bag listening to the drum beat above my head is one of my favorite places to be. Except when the only night you have torrential rain your brain is going “we have to pack up the wet soggy tent tomorrow morning… and then somehow we have to get to the bus… and then 9 hours sitting on a bus soaked through… and then I have college and then…“ and then… suddenly that rain? Not so fun anymore.

KM is in love with the great outdoors and camping, cooking on a little gas stove and the two mile walk to the bus each morning, which while it WAS pretty and we did see many rabbits I could have done without. He even commented that he wants to take up hill walking – at which point I had to draw the line.  Walking up hills for fun he can do ON HIS OWN. You see I was more in love with the little village pub: a quiet traditional place that serves the best Jack Daniels BBBQ ribs I’ve ever eaten and proper farm house ice cream for after. Yep, I would have been much more in my element at their B&B actually getting some sleep…

Now that’s not to say the weekend was a disaster. I proved that I can camp – it’s not the worst thing in the world – and seen as it makes KM smile, I get major brownie points going along for the ride.  Yay me! And even I have to admit that lying in bed hearing two owls calling to each other before they go off on the hunt, that’s pretty frikkin’ cool.

So will we go again ……. maybe next summer after all a little adventure in a relationship could be a good thing.

Ali xX

Kayak Man mourns his wife.

This was meant to be the post the one where I explain how Kayak Man got his name and share with you pictures to prove it… but alas the best laid plans of mice and men…

Kayak Man is a schemer. He always has some crazy plan on the go – some out there, far fetched project.  It’s just the way he is. Sometimes they are successful and others… well… they lead to much frustration because the man also has kind of a short attention span, so he’ll spend time and effort and money on this one thing and then get bored a few months later and move on to something totally different. He finds it kind of hard to stick at things. So when he told me last summer that he was going to buy an inflatable Kayak… let’s just say I was not amused.

The boat arrived and throughout the summer became Kayak Man’s new favorite toy. He would inflate it so that it filled our front room and it would stay there for weeks. Yep, I was pulling my hair out about it. I almost died laughing when I came down to find him sat in there with a snack watching TV. Over time, we nick named it his new wife… something which I found highly amusing until one day I walked into his room and the kayak was folded up on one side of his king size bed. LOL. We really came to blows when he took a book shelf from one of our bookcases to make some form of seating arrangement. Yes, he didn’t have any wood around the house so rather than get some he used A BOOKSHELF. I have to tell you ladies: its a damn scary thing when you are woken up by the sound of a guy using power tools you didn’t even know he had inside your house! (I quickly learned the best thing to do when this happens is to stay upstairs and hide until he’s finished and has had a reasonable amount of time to clean up the damage).  He spent hours repairing the various punctures the boat was subject to in the HUGE trek we had to do to even get this thing into the water.

Let’s explain this trek a little more you. See, neither I nor Kayak Man can drive, so to get to a place where the water is reasonably calm and not going to kill a learner in a inflatable boat we drag all this stuff on public transport for over an hour. I say “we” because while the boat folds up neatly and does fit into a bag, he never considered all the other things that he would need. You know.. life vest, food for the day, dry clothes… so, he needs help carrying those things. Also I was actually the one out of both of us who had actually been in a kayak before. So, we go kayaking. According to KM it can be “one of those things we do together “. Uh huh… I wish he had consulted me before selecting an activity because I’m telling you kayaking was so far down my list of acceptable things it wasn’t on the radar. And for someone who has confidence issues, I’m not dealing all that well with the attention two over weight people get dragging all this gear ON THE BUS… especially when one of them *points at Kayak Man* is all suited up in his waders… anyways… I do it because I love water in any form so being on the river is actually fun for me even though the inflatable thing would not be my vehicle of choice and I grin and bear the rest because…  well… it makes the man so happy and I love his smile (sucker!). Oh and also I make him pay with mandatory Farm House Ice Cream. That’s MY guilty pleasure when we go.

I refuse to go over the winter, though, because it’s cold and rainy and the river we go to floods in winter and also my heart problem means that I get cold shock really fast if I fall in the water and I have no desire to experience the ice cold water that runs off the Welsh hills in winter up close, thank you very much.

All winter he’s been waiting to go again. He dragged the ‘yak out a couple of weeks ago and inflated it in the back yard to check and repair any damage from over the winter. Then, of course, as soon as he was ready we had awful weather for a whole weekend. Had a very pouty Kayak Man… until a couple of days ago. Sunshine and free time collided and ‘yak day was declared. Off we went.

Riverside… and the man is enthusiastically pumping up the love of his life, awaiting the reunion… when there was this almighty explosion of a pop and the loud noise of gushing air… and with that, his new wife died. Split right along the seam and totally beyond repair. She was laid to rest in a litter bin close by.  This is why I have no Kayak Man pictures for you, only this one of  ‘yak man waiting at the bus stop:

This of the river we go to :

oh ok  and this of the wife’s final resting place: 

He’s taking it pretty well, considering. I’m more sad than I’d thought I would be because even though he dragged me out looking like a total dork,  even though he made me feel uncomfortable, and even though I sacrificed a book shelf and a cell phone, and even though I’ve spent a fair amount of time giggling at Kayak Man’s enthusiasm. He loved that ‘yak. He put hours of effort into the hobby and it made him REALLY happy and now its over. Because of some sucky budget things, we have no idea when he will be able to afford a new boat, so it looks like Kayak man will be without his Kayak this summer.

Poor guy.

Ali xX

A little lost .

People change. People grow. They move on. Live their lives. Circumstances get in the way and friendships change, evolve.  People grow closer together and drift apart like the coming and going of a wave on the shore.  It happens. It’s part of human existence. I guess it can’t be helped, but you know whatever the reason: the loss of a close relationship is always sad and however bad the circumstances of the spilt usually, I find myself mourning for the closeness I once enjoyed or perceived existed between me and the other person and I find it so hard to let them go. Ok in some cases they have already all but left my life of their own accord and it takes a while for me to figure out what’s happening.

Things are changing a lot for me recently and even though I’m thrilled at the progress I have to admit at feeling melancholy for what’s been lost along the way. Twice recently I have found myself mulling over my relationships with someone who had held a special place in my heart and pondering what direction I need to take…

A close friend who I use to tell everything to, pretty much. We shared the ups and downs of life’s dramas and had many many laughs, giggles and hours of fun doing it. We would talk for hours. Our lives took different directions and I began to open my eyes and wonder if she really held me with the same high regard and care that I had for her. you know when the person starts making excuses to leave – or worse – walking away from an IM conversation saying she’ll brb and just not returning, you start to wonder. I used to wrack my brains about it and worry to the point of making myself sick that I was doing something wrong, that it was me. Somehow I was making her reject me. But you know I don’t actually think I said anything too terrible… although I have to admit to being honest about things that maybe where not my place to say. However IF you ask for my opinion/advice, you’re gonna get my honest thoughts. Respond to them as you wish. After a while I started to realize that the level of drama in my life was significantly reduced. There was so much tension between two of my friends that they could barely tolerate the mention of the others name. Mistreatment and aggravation between them left me walking on egg shells, wondering what the heck happened to the times we spend all together laughing ourselves silly till the wee hours of the morning. I cared about these two so much. They were both like family and for a while I was refusing to walk away from either one and very trapped in the middle, pulling my hair out and running round in circles trying to make everyone happy. You know that is NEVER possible… and still we try. I tried till my head hurt. My heart felt ripped in two and I was routinely throwing up  and shaking after time together… and I could do no more… and it still all fell apart around me. So there’s a lesson for ya.

After the crisis point i tried separating the two, trying hard not to get into discussion with one about the other… ech I suck at that. I would always say or do the wrong thing and suddenly it was my fault that the two of them couldn’t patch things up. If only I’d said this… done that… gah whatever!

This person has made some choices in life that baffle me. I don’t understand. I’m confused and to begin with, I was angry and upset with her. I couldn’t go on pretending everything was ok. Things got more and more strained when we were together. We both moved away from the thing we had in common in massively different directions. I guess once that happened we began to see that, other than this one thing we were no longer doing, we actually have very little in common in terms of interests, tastes, values even maybe. Sadly, now when we talk we hardly seem to know what to say… and conversation that once flowed freely dries up in a matter of minutes. I strongly suspect we both may be paying lip service to each other because of the bond that once existed between us. I feel maybe I should move on. But gawd I miss the laughs we once had. I’m left wondering if we were ever as close as I thought we were and I know for sure that even though I may walk away I gave her a piece of my heart and she will always have it. May she find happiness, love and security and may karma royally screw over the person that hurts her three times more than they deserve.

This rather abrupt parting of the ways – the fundamental differences… the reasons we are no longer in that place we once were… I get that. I don’t like it, but I do understand.

Sometimes change just happens so slowly, so subtly, so quietly, that you don’t really see it till your toes are hanging over the edge of the huge fucking crater that’s now between you. I understand what happened. It’s that I used to show this person most of my soul – all the pieces. I was mortified that someone might one day expose the things I had locked away from everyone. I freely gave this person access to and I still don’t really know why. Most of the cracks, flaws, insecurities, hopes, dreams… everything. Somehow I felt that our friendship really worked. But I’m guarded again now. The trust thing between us is all but gone.

I’m sad for what has been lost along the way for promises I no longer feel will be kept. There’s no anger or bitterness… just a sad shrug and a search for the way forward.

Ali xX