Beautiful Amnesia

I can’t believe 2009 is coming to an end. I think I say this at the end of every year but anyway…

In many ways, this has been an enormous year of growth for me … though that is a little bit of a moot point. No one ever really stops growing, unless you make a very conscious decision to close your mind.

Career

The year started in yet another new job but instead of shorter term contracts I am gainfully and ‘permanently’ employed till I am not. It was a new environment that was riddled with a lack of structure and resources. I won’t lie and say that it has been an easy year career wise. I have been highly stressed at key points in the cycle and woefully acknowledge that I am underpaid for doing work that is way beyond my job description.

However, complaining never gets one anywhere – especially when you are at the workplace. So I’ve really just put my head down and got things done as much as possible. There is no time for whining at work. Might be a different story at home but professionalism bodes well in office. Having to do so much in such little time means a huge learning curve and in that way I have been lucky. Having no assistance meant you needed to be your own manager, as well as defacto manager to other staff. This required the utilisation of some intelligence to get through and around things. Having no experienced staff in the team meant that you needed to flex your muscles of persuasion to change some old and dare I say stuck-in-the-mud ways. At the same time, it was important be humble enough to admit when you make mistakes … inevitably when you are overworked and understaffed there are mistakes. This year has also brought me closer to the midst of office politics than ever before. I have for most of my working life, managed to stay away from politics and despite a few close calls this year I have chosen to stay on the sidelines – it is just not my style and yes, it looks even uglier than ever close up. Pointless and poisonous.

So this year has been an amazing year for gaining independence with my work. Keeping one’s ego aside means staying out of trouble. Staying out of trouble means you have more time to get your work done. Getting your work done whilst the rest of the workplace is in chaos means that eventually it is appreciated. I didn’t have to do a lot of things that I did this year, or swallow all that frustration for what they are paying me. But riding out the bad waves now means that I can look forward to some sort of a promotion next year. They are fighting hard to make promote me beyond a level, but whether that actually happens or not due to rigid bureaucracy remains to be seen.

At the end of the day, I am thankful to have a secure and permanent job that more than feeds and clothes me. Especially in a year where the worldwide economy is uncertain and there are many others in financial distress who haven’t been as fortunate.

Home

This brings me to the next big phase in my life, a phase I had both dreaded and dreamt of for a long time. Owning my own place. It started as a nagging piece of advice from the folks at the end of last year to becoming a reality this year. My 30th year and a house. Wow. Not sure why being 30 has to have anything to do with it but it almost feels like I should get over myself and move forward – there are more exciting things in life like … interior decoration. Or something like that.

Anyway, most of my weekends this year were spent at housing opens or attending auctions. The process has been all over the place, with plans changing from week to week. Budgeting, negotiating … being disheartened, being hopeful. From being a single home owner to being a co-home owner. From borrowing more to borrowing less. From deciding to live in one suburb to the next. Oily real estate agents and money grabbing banks. Screaming arguments were common especially whilst getting lost driving around unfamiliar streets. All this has only served to make me more familiar with Melbourne than I have managed to in most of time here. Wow, it has been almost 11 years in total. Can you believe that? I can’t. And now there is a house.

I dreaded growing up. I dreaded being a boring mortgage person. I dreaded taking my folks’ advice … and I have always dreaded the fact that they might actually be right. But maybe they are with this one. And maybe I don’t have to be a boring mortgage person. There is life to be had outside of a mortgage – did I say interior decoration amongst other things? I mustn’t have because that would be totally lame.

Yes I dreaded being lame. But you know what, in reality I am actually enjoying it. It feels like once I have something to call my own, the next phase has begun and I sure as hell am looking forward to it.

Whilst this may seem boring to some … I’ve realised that what’s important is that I am not bored. And that’s all it really boils down to anyway.

Writing the word ‘boil’ brings me to the next section of my reflection.

Love and other emotions

I have had many people say this about me and this year has been no exception – that I seem unflappable, cold and distant. Sometimes in others’ fits of anger I’ve been accused to be “not human”. In the rather neutral gear that I am in now, this all seems kind of funny.

In all honesty, a lot of the times when I am ‘disconnected’ with the outside world, it is because I am extremely connected with my internal world. Attention is an important thing I have taught myself in the last few years. And the meaning of attention itself is literal. It can only be in one place at a time.

This has also been a difficult year for me emotionally. When has it never been for you, some people may ask. True that there have been situations in the year that involved total emotional anarchy but there is another place for all that and it’s not here. However, I think I am at this stage where I am not afraid to admit that this is an area with which I struggle with most. Hence why I am learning by necessity to pay some attention to my own feelings and what they may be trying to tell me. I may not be doing this in quite the right way but as with everything, it is a journey and I know I need to walk by myself before I can walk with others. The roads are never straight but they do meander and there are always cross junctions along the way. A wise person said to me this year but not in so many words – that the difficulties that awakens within you, it is a calling of your soul, to say hey … here I am. Here I am indeed.

I am grateful to be surrounded by people who love me though it breaks my heart that I can’t be with some of them most of the time, especially my immediate family. I miss them more than I can say but you cannot have everything in life. Choices are inevitable and sometimes selfish yet not one choice is ever better than the other I suppose. I love you as much as I love myself.

I have indeed come another mile in another year. Suffering is an unavoidable human condition, how we embrace it is … well now that is a lifestyle.

2010

Just yesterday I made a decision to take up a certificate in Holistic Counselling in 2010. Re-entering education has been something I had been turned over in my mind quite a few times in 2009. I know I have been studying most of my life … but never quite the right thing. Perhaps I’m just meant to be a dabbler, dabbling a little here and a little there. Who knows what the purpose of this certificate is, all I know is that I am interested and have been interested most of my life and just not had a chance to make it happen. Perhaps this may lead to a real career change a whole lot later, perhaps not. Whatever it is, this seems like the right time and the right course. I had thought about holistic counselling for a while since it was a natural infusion of my interest in spirituality, self-development, healing and psychology. I had thought that I wasn’t going to start anything with a new mortgage but yesterday this e-mail arrived in my inbox and something pulled at me really hard. I made up my mind in less than 10 minutes and now I couldn’t be more excited.

So 2010 seems like it is shaping up to be a very interesting year. A new house, more study but for the soul this time and I am going to try and save really hard to travel overseas at the end of 2010. I haven’t been anywhere but Singapore this year and my wanderlust has crept slowly and surely upon me again. Foreign landscapes and enticing cultures beckon and I hope I can return their greeting.

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So happy end of 2009 guys! I am flying back to Singapore (yes again) next week to spend Christmas, my birthday and new years with family and friends. I don’t know when I’ll write a lengthy blog entry again but I hope it’ll be sooner than later.

And my gem discovery for the year to end this post on a lighter note: It is much easier to go to the toilet when you are wearing a dress.

I woke up this morning from an insightful but stressful dream that carried along well into my waking hours. It injected a huge dose of self-doubt and confusion into most of my morning. In fact, I am still recovering from the murky depth of the whole event that seemed to have transitioned so seamlessly from subconscious into consciousness. I was going to write about it here and then realised that it was much too personal so I’ve written about it somewhere else at great length and in detail. I do understand that it takes from any content this post was going to have, but when I said in my previous post that I was hoping to have more thoughtful posts, I definitely got way more than I bargained for.

For now I am satisfied that as I am writing this, I am actually yes, sane. I can’t testify to this same statement a couple of hours ago. Still a little confused but definitely sane. Although I can see why if you are reading this, you may think that none of this actually makes sense and would rather disagree with my sanity.

Therefore, to make life seem a lot more simple, here are some pictures taken yesterday at St Kilda. I took Jeff who was here for one little day for some Grill’d Burgers and a stroll by the beach. St Kilda is always magical at sunset – at least to me. It has been home to my solitude many a times, and my reminder that humanity is not all there is – yes some of my favourite insights have been born there. The little penguins seem to think so too!

All photos were taken with my iphone, which was all I had on me yesterday unfortunately. Taking pictures keep me anchored, and I am especially grateful to its role in my life especially after this morning. Taking a picture, also justifies for me, quite a lot of everything.

I’ve been whining about being homesick for Singapore the past couple of weeks but it was a day like yesterday that really reminded me why I have clung on to Melbourne.

When the weather is makes a long anticipated turn from an extended winter into a subtle spring … moving quickly into summer – the skies get a deeper shade of blue. Everything feels fresh … yes this is why. And I love the wide open spaces, just minutes from the city. The ability to get into your car and just drive for a short time or forever. Or jump on to a push bike and pedal along to get almost anywhere you want, on the road or along train tracks, rivers or streams if you like.

The unpredictability of the weather is also amusing – turning quickly from a warm and dry 33 degrees to a cool and windy 24 degrees in the space of an hour. The spontaneous beach jaunt didn’t last very long but it was worth it just for the first few minutes we were there.

The clouds came in quickly in the evening, the lightning spreading across the sky in quick white sheets as if someone was continually peeling a label off our planet earth. What a show it was from inside a divine Turkish restaurant in Brunswick East (Babas if you must know) whilst having wine and slow cooked lamb amongst other interesting samples and fabulous company. The rain started pouring suddenly and intensely before it lost its furor and the night turned balmy and just slightly chilly.

It was perfect for when we finally adjourned to Kim and Bo’s roof terrace where more wine and stunning views of Melbourne city followed. Yes, I still do love you Melbourne.

The Yarra Valley Open Studios was an amazing event. It is a wonderful concept for artists in the Yarra Valley region that may not get as much exposure as artists in the city. The idea is basically a group of artists opening their homes / studios to the public for a weekend showcase – I think there were 44 artists altogether who participated in this year’s Open Studios.

We mainly went up there to visit Rachel’s friend Dianna Tarr who is an artist participating in the event. I first met Di three or so years ago when we visited Healsville and it was lovely to see how her work has evolved. Her work is inspired by nature, consciousness and meditations. It is very earthy and spiritual and her art is something that I feel very connected to. I remember loving some of the paintings she did but since then she has matured so much. I am buying my first piece of painting ever from her.

It is not yet complete, and she had literally just started working on it last week. I told her that I’d be happy for it to evolve as she continues work on it and she’s happy with that. I’m really excited because I think it will be amazing when it is finished and part of the lure is that I don’t know what it will actually look like. Whatever it is, I think I’ve started getting in the habit of pledging significant sums money to things that are not yet complete. First the house, now the painting. Call it blind faith. Maybe works-in-progress entice because of their organic and ever-changing nature.

I also got the catch up with Di’s three children who have grown so much in the three years that I’ve seen them. All of them beautiful kids with little seven-year-old Mannah a budding artist herself. Here’s a picture of her when we hung out three years. She was a great little curator for her mum and dragged out her own little pieces for our private viewing pleasure – until she decided it was too much trouble and displayed them together with mum’s work for the rest of the day. We also bought one of little Mannah’s paintings and we’ve found a great little spot for it on the wall of the current apartment. It was really funny negotiating the price with Mannah who suddenly turned shy and couldn’t ask for what she wanted. But she did get what she wanted, and we got a priceless little piece in exchange.

Di’s abode had a great garden with various sculptures in it – it was a really lovely day just hanging out there with some great people and Joey the dog who pulled so hard on his lead his poor owner fell over backwards in her chair. Priceless.

We only managed to visit two other studios in our short time in Healsville – Young Ceramist Julia Franz and Glassblowers Tim Bassett and Tali Dalton. Tim and Tali had the whole kiln and fire and high temperature thing happening when we got there. It is such an amazing process to watch. Bought a little glass paperweight / ornament and I think I’m starting to develop a serious addiction to glass art. Probably what I will start collecting next!

I really hope that Yarra Valley Open Studios runs again next year because I will definitely make a whole weekend out of it. It was a different and certainly up-close-and-personal alternative to a gallery experience with the opportunity for conversation with each individual artists in their personal work space. The region itself is relaxed and picturisque with great food and wineries, not quite sure what else you could want.

The foto biennale in Ballarat was a disappointment for me. The most exciting thing about the trip was the drive up to Ballarat on Friday night when gale force winds hit Victoria. My little Toyota Yaris ain’t got the bulk to put up with this crazy sort of a wind whilst travelling at 110KM/H per hour. I gave up driving within the first half hour of hitting the highway and whimpered in the passenger’s seat like a scared puppy whilst the car changed lanes involuntarily from time to time.

Anyway, here’s a collection of photos I took over the weekend. They were taken mainly with my iphone as I discovered I have acquired laziness and would rather not handle a large heavy SLR even though I carried it with me everywhere. Oh no wait, I lie. I left it in the car most of the time.

I didn’t particularly enjoy the foto biennale being spread out over a bigger area in Ballarat – it just made it difficult to get to the various exhibitions and there was no sense of festival ’solidarity’ – if there’s such a thing. Whilst there were a couple of quality exhibits, I wasn’t impressed by most. It was much better in Daylesford two years ago when most features were within walking distance, and the town itself held a whole lot more charm than Ballarat. Unfortunately, Ballarat is a bit of a nothing place. It does have Sovereign Hill which I had visited years ago but wasn’t willing to pay $40 to get in again this time round. So I took a photo of the view instead.

We went to the camera market on Sunday morning after a quick spin around the Ballarat Trash and Treasure market, which they should have made easier for the locals by simply calling it the Trash market. Ain’t no treasures in there that’s for sure. On the other hand, I was blinded by the vintage cameras that were on sale at the camera market. I would have but I could not – I knew it was simply lust and not ever-lasting love. But oh they were beautiful those Leicas and Mamiyas … mmm. Took off for Daylesford to meet some friends for lunch at the Convent Gallery (probably one of my favourite galleries). It was unfortunate that I was served the worst pasta I ever had in my life (exception would be maybe some pasta dishes I’ve cooked myself).

Daylesford made for a nice day with a stroll along the main street with its unique collection of creative stores. We did more wandering around the Mill Markets with antiques galore before driving back to Melbourne to satisfy my craving for Laksa at Chomps Chomps.

A friend of mine who has claimed Melbourne as home and loves it dearly has slipped it into conversation that he was seriously considering moving back to Singapore. Another friend of mine was also talking about the many reasons he didn’t want to stay in Melbourne after he finished his course. Yet another dear friend of mine has also committed to returning home after her postgrad course finishes at the end of the year despite her Australian citizenship.

All this makes me wonder … what am I doing here in Melbourne? This question comes up for me time and time again. Sometimes it leaves me alone for a while, but always … it comes back …

“I miss the simple life back home” my friend sighed the other night. And I know exactly what he meant.

When I close my eyes I can embrace that simplicity. I remember well for it brings with it a strong sense of comfort and nostalgia. By simple, I don’t mean that it was boring. It was simple because it was easy – there was always friends to be with, someone to call, somewhere to go even if it was to do nothing. Hanging out together and doing nothing was in itself one of my favourite things. It really was that simple. I miss simple things like late night suppers after a rocking good night at Wala Wala – ordering teh tareks and roti pratas from an uncle! or and auntie! Suddenly it feels like road side coffee shops in Singapore are a whole better than any snazzy club I’ve been to. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss the warm humid nights and their mild breezes. I miss being able to slip out in at nights in a t-shirt, shorts and flip flops and feel right at home.

I suppose I’m just in a sooky mood. I’m about to buy my own home and suddenly I miss my real home. I am bored here in Melbourne and I can’t help but wonder if I really should be somewhere else instead of planting even firmer roots here … Despite being a city with so much to see and do, it’s hard to feel inspired when so many people you want to be around, aren’t.

One of my friends said something about the difference in values here … and how that has made life more awkward to live by default. Somehow that hit a nail on the head for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love Melbourne and I have had a great time being in Australia. But at the end of the day, I’m not Australian and will never be. Wish it could be simple.

I was watching a podcast with Eckhart Tolle yesterday whilst driving home from work. It’s really not that dangerous and mostly I did have my eyes on the road.

He was saying something about how everyone had their cross to bear. It’s really weird because before yesterday this commonly used statement “my cross to bear” never quite struck a chord with me. I thought I had issues, like most other people out there. Personal dramas, little psychosisis, situations that annoy me, yet I always had absolute faith that the worst of it would go away in time. Which is why I fight so hard against things that bother me, resist them or totally hate them. It’s always been such a violent struggle for myself.

After all these years at the grand old age of 30, I realised that maybe some things aren’t meant to go away. Maybe something things are simply just that … your cross to bear. Eckhart calls it “background unhappiness” – it’s simply the way your ego is structured. So no matter how hard you try and change things, they simply will not go away. No amount of alcohol, drugs or therapy will be able to take away your cross. For this cross is your religion, your life and part of the elements that make you.

I don’t know if this is true for everyone for I can only speak for myself. Perhaps this is why for me, there is always that soundtrack running in the background – the low drone that shadows everything that I feel even on the brightest of days. All too often this eternal song breaks into a chorus and it’s impossible to ignore. Damn that chorus is one catchy tune *breaks out into melodramatic song*

Perhaps I’m just one moody person as someone close to me said recently. That statement actually didn’t hurt as much as most truths will. I guess I’ve just accepted my endless brooding as part of what makes me. Too bad if you, you or you don’t like it. Regardless, being a moody person is very exhausting and I’m tired of fighting my battles. Then this gradual realisation that resistance is the cause of the war in the first place is very sobering.

Eckhart said that what that you hate most, what bugs you most and the thing that makes you feel the worst can and will be your greatest teacher when used correctly. It can be the choice catalyst for change. It’s a very wise teaching that I’ve heard many times before but that I had promptly forgotten after each time. I think some people just need to be constantly reminded – in fact I believe it is human nature to need to be constantly reminded. A lot of lessons in life do not carry much innovation – nothing really new is out there. Teachings just need to be remembered. You do not need a larger brain to be a wise person … you just need to remind yourself of what you already know. True knowledge should not be acquired as in a massive library too large for your to manouver, but constantly revisted as you would a well-loved book.

So back to the point of background unhappiness – most of us have some sort of background unhappiness. I already know what mine is – I have after much avoidance over the years, finally discovered the soundtracks (they typically stem from the same genre and spit out the similarly boring chords) that ruins my life – I say this with wry humour. So what do I do? My background unhappiness is always going to be there – I’ll never be happy. Oh my god my life is over. *Gah*

I don’t know really – Eckhart’s advice is to let yourself be the space for your own background unhappiness. To give your unhappiness the space to be. Interesting way of putting it – give your unhappiness space to be. I suppose it’s just like anything or anyone else, smother or feed into their drama simply serves to perpetuate and enhance. Therefore by allowing whatever it is to rest within you with no resistance by giving it its space, it may eventually change to something else, perhaps something better or if not, just something neutral that is not fuelled by your own fires. That makes complete sense to me.

I realise that I will always be an introspective, prone to pessimism, over analytical faulty person. And that’s ok as long as I remember to give myself space and be my own temple – know that all that comes through these doors are just looking for shelter.

“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things that I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

I had a dream last night where I was on a balcony with some people. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, the scene in front of me transformed to that of Disneyland’s familiar dream castle lit up by soft pink lights like I’ve seen in many photos. I heard hushed whispers and people said “the fireworks are about to begin!”. I started to stress because I didn’t have my camera on me. I started counting down the minutes and weighing out what I might miss out on if I ran indoors to grab my camera. What if it were only a very short display? I would not have the time to change the settings on my camera …

With great anxiety, I ran indoors and grabbed my little Canon G9 and the fireworks started just as I got back out onto the balcony. It was magnificent but try as I might, the little camera just wouldn’t do the job of capturing the moment. It didn’t show the scene as it was – grand, magnificent and utterly splendid. I was frustrated as I fiddled with the buttons and then I thought “I have my dSLR indoors … I’ll go get that!”

As I thought this, I was vividly aware of how I might be running out of time with the fireworks display. This made me stress out even more as I dropped the little camera and ran indoors to retrieve my SLR. I ran outside again and to my surprise, the fireworks were still going strong. I tried to take the picture but I realised I didn’t have a tripod.

This won’t do! I cannot take pictures of fireworks without a tripod! I wanted to make the pictures come out with fancy schmancy effects of focus blurs and light streaks and blobs just as I had when I photographed at Moomba. Even more frustrated, I ran back inside to retrieve my tripod and took some time to set my camera on it whilst the skies exploded in a kaleidescope of colours in front of me.

I played with the settings on the camera and looked through the viewfinder to find myself framing the scene. I tried taking the pictures but still they wouldn’t turn out right. I was despairing but at the same time growing increasingly aware that I had missed most of the fireworks.

What I had been doing was trying to pigeonhole something vast and boundless into a small square frame a few inches wide. I was trying to manipulate what was happening right in front of me into a story that was grander than what already is grand. I was trying to skew perspective, dodge reality and not accept what is.

Following that insight, I took a step back, embraced the kaleidoscope and let the light rain upon me and there was no more insecurity and no more anxiety. I wish I could have stood there forever.

It’s funny that perhaps a dreamer is so much more the wiser than the awake. Or perhaps the awake is only awake within the labyrinth of a massive conspiracy theory of a dream. Yes that must be so.

It has been intense.

I could cry about it, which I did. I could laugh about it, which I did. I could curl up into a ball and wish I would disappear and I did that too – but I didn’t disappear. I try and tire myself out before I go to bed, hoping that that exhaustion would take away the dreams. It hurts to wake up in the mornings that usually begin with a sharp breath of panic whilst my brain tries to sort through layers and layers of assumed realities. Then I wake up and realise that I’ve been living in packs of lies and that really, the house of cards has already fallen down. The kings and queens, the broken hearts, the once glittering diamonds and yes those ruthless spades – they all lie flat on the ground and I’m somehow stomping on them whilst trying to avoid them. Only the joker stands laughing in a solitary corner, watching me in his jester hat and ringing his bell of warnings.

I take it one day at a time and I try and open my heart but ever day it’s such a battle. There seems to be a huge magnetic door and as much as I push against it, it manages to draw itself shut eventually. I pray and pray to the cosmos for the forgiveness that comes with grace and the trust that comes with love, but only sometimes is there is a semblance of respite. It never stays long enough. I am afraid, and that takes a lot to admit.

I will always have to remember to try and forget and I wish it wasn’t so. I just wish it didn’t hurt so goddamn much.

I should have written but then again I should have done a lot of things.

It’s a Friday afternoon at work, one of the first few days where I’ve actually had time to do something else other than work. Life has been amazingly stressful.

I am looking at buying a home within the year and most of my spare time has been spent searching for places online, driving to places, looking at places, driving from one place to another and freaking out about finances. It is all extremly boring and exciting at the same time. I never thought I would be put in this position, where all I talk about is houses, mortgages and interest rates. Even I am over me at the moment.

That is why I haven’t blogged – because I am almost ashamed of having turned into what I’ve always been afraid of turning into. At least I’m not looking for a place with a white picket fence. Actually, maybe I am … I’m only saying I’m not because I can’t actually afford a place with a white picket fence.

I would like to live in a place with some land, I would like to live in a swanky apartment, I would like a townhouse, I would like to be close to the city, I would like some country air. I would like somewhere close to transport, I would like not to be next to a train station because it’s too noisy. I would like to be in the north, but I’m used to the south and I like it too. People say, “what about the east and the west?” It’s too expensive, it’s too cheap. It’s too small, it’s too big. I have splitting headaches more often than not, and then I wonder why.

It shouldn’t be this hard.

I have also been worked to the bone over the last few weeks. I have barely had time to breathe and I have forgotten what it is like to be on turbo mode with an extra generator to boot. I feel extremely run down, exhausted and not surprisingly, highly strung.

Relatives have been landing in this city left right and centre. I have had to entertain, I have had to deal with fights, whether they be hot or cold wars, long or short. I find myself talking in circles and I wonder where all the calm I had managed to accumulate up until this point has gone. I don’t even have the energy to read anymore much less write.There have been many tears and reminders to self to breathe because really, I think sometimes I literally forget. I find myself sitting somewhere and holding my breath – not intentionally. My nerves are all zinged, I feel like someone’s run an electric current through me and I am still buzzing. I feel it in my arms and my legs and across my chest mostly. My head feels light on most days and a lot of time I feel like I might just pass out.

Overall, I am ok. I’m just … stressed.

I’m looking forward to my bottom right wisdom tooth not playing up and giving me a pounding headache and a sore throat anymore. Afterall, the dentist said 10 years ago I didn’t need to have it out and I’ve just been putting up with the pain on and off for a hell of a long time. Mostly it’s ok but sometimes, like now, it is not.

I haven’t photographed in ages and I’m hoping to be able to catch the fireworks at Moomba this weekend. I haven’t even LOOKED at photographs in what seems like a long time, unless they are of real estate and that is doing something hugely negative to my sense of well-being. However, tomorrow brings yet another full day’s worth of house hunting and then dinner with a friend I haven’t seen in a while. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll make it to the fireworks before driving the long drive to the airport at midnight to pick my brother up. Sunday morning will see me getting up at six in the morning doing the same drive back to the airport to send him off. Sometime between now and tomorrow I have to find time to clean the house before he gets here.

And then there’s that dinner tonight that I scheduled a while ago that I have to and want to go to. That’s a lot of “to” I’m doing.

Sometimes I just want to scream. But really, I’m ok. I’m just hugely annoyed that I’ve become one of THOSE people. But you know what, once I am settled with all this … all this … grown up bullshit, things will be good again.

I have faith that it will happen.

And despite how crazily overworked I have been, it’s nice to be acknowledged often that I am doing a good job. And in happier news, I saw Kaki King play live and I do have a photograph of her and myself displaying on every single web application that requires a profile photo. And no, I did not really send her a myspace message.

I will survive.