Mistletoe and Wine

I dreamt last night that He made me go to a Cliff Richard concert. Bizarre. I seem to recall kicking and screaming and desperately trying to cover my ears...

Good weekend though, apart from that. Got horrifically drunk at Little Miss C and Walkabout's on Friday and didn't make it to bed til 4am, after Little Miss C and I decided that because we were drunk we needed a walk, and proceeded to walk around the block over and over again for an hour and a half because we got talking and didn't notice our fingers turning blue.

Suffered all day Saturday and lay in bed in pyjamas eating cheese straws and watching Friends. Sometimes it's nice to do nothing.

Sunday we woke up in a frighteningly good mood and decided, along with PianoMan, to go and buy a Christmas tree. Please don't ask me why. Got the tree home, and then of course He and PianoMan had to saw off the bottom and fit it in a stand. Honestly, you wouldn't believe how difficult two 21st century men can find it to use a saw to cut off a bit of tree... but anyway, they got there in the end (after almost losing several fingers and demolishing the garden furniture), and we celebrated with lots of red wine and twinkly lights.

I'd forgotten that Christmas trees are one of the few plus points of Christmas. Along with the aforementioned licence to drink too much and eat chocolate for breakfast.

Red Wine, Chocolate and Snow

These are a few of my favourite things! When the dog bites! When the bee stings! When I'm feeling sad... etc etc etc

Drank a lot of red wine last night, it snowed this morning, and I'm now eating Belgian chocolate and staring out of the office window at a very snowladen sky. Perfect.

Off to Little Miss C and Walkabout's tonight for some food and games and general coupley merriment (by which I do NOT mean anything involving car keys or similar). I'm contemplating making the most of the snow and bringing out my big furry snowboots and mini mini skirt combo for the first time this year. Hurrah!

Quiet weekend planned otherwise, before next weekend's Christmas shopping extravaganza.

Time is going very quickly at the moment and, as I'm looking forward to our anniversary and the Christmas time off, that's just fine by me!

The Meaning of Christmas

I’m not getting it. I mean, I get that Jesus was born yadda yadda yadda, but as we gear up for Christmas 2005, it seems remarkably meaningless.

I barely know anyone who celebrates Christmas in a Christian sense. And while kids obviously enjoy the whole present-giving greed orgy, I feel like Christmas involves more sacrifice than pleasure for most people these days.

Look at it this way: I am going to be spending almost all of my disposable income for the month on presents for people that I don’t necessarily actually want to buy presents for, because I have to in order to be socially acceptable. And if that wasn’t enough, I have to sacrifice my happiness and my precious time off work to spend three days with people I would never usually choose to spend more than a couple of hours with.

The pleasure I get out of Christmas is all derived from the fact that one is allowed to breakfast on chocolate coins and red wine, if one so desires, without anyone batting an eyelid. And really, that’s not much of a justification for a holiday which has lost its religious significance to the vast majority of people and therefore stands more as a monument to consumerism and greed than to any of the more virtuous attributes.

I suppose what I’m confused about is why we all celebrate Christmas when we aren’t actually Christians. I mean, you never hear someone say ‘I think I’ll join in with Ramadan this year – looks like fun!’ do you? And yet we all toddle off to Christmas dinners and family fights, and spend out a fortune on gifts we begrudge buying, and everyone gets drunk and even if you end up having a good time, why couldn’t you have that good time anyway without the excuse and expense of Christmas?

Oh, just ignore me. I’m in a selfish mood today. Bah humbug!

Cold Comfort

Well, the office is still freezing, but I'm in quite a good mood. Had a gorgeous, relaxing weekend and really didn't want to come back to work yesterday. Work is incredibly boring at the moment, but I suppose they pay me quite well and the people are nice, so it could be worse. Yep, that's me being positive. Don't faint with shock.

I am, even more shockingly, quite looking forward to the festive season now, but only because of being allowed to drink lots and eat chocolate for breakfast. And I get the time between Xmas Eve and 2nd January off work so it's a free holiday too. And I really need a holiday!

We get paid next Wednesday, although most of our cash goes towards bloody Christmas presents, but then we get paid again the day before Xmas Eve which, of course, is our 1st wedding anniversary. And, almost as momentously, the 1st anniversary of this blog. So we are going to go out for dinner to celebrate not only that (the wedding thing, not the blog thing, duh!) but also the fact that 23rd December also marks the date on which, if my calculations are right (and they always are because I used to work for an investment bank), we will finally be properly solvent again.

Yep, the credit cards will all be back within limit, the loans will be up to date, the bills will be sorted, and He and I will have some decent spending money for the first time in over a year.

Ironic, or perhaps symbolic, that it should happen on our anniversary. I think maybe someone's trying to tell us something.

R&R

This weekend I have no plans at all. Which will be bliss because it's been a mad few weeks.

I am planning to sleep a lot, to sort the messy house out a bit, to read some books and watch some films, and generally chill out.

Hurrah!

Oh, and things with Him are much better. I think. We'll just have to see what happens.

Brrrrrrrrr

It's fucking FREEZING!

In fact, it's colder in the office than it is outside, and the only time I get to have feeling in my feet or hands is when I'm at home in bed!

Why is it that so many people in this country act surprised when the weather turns cold. For god's sake, it's WINTER. We have it EVERY YEAR. So please, stop sounding so stunned that you've had to wear a coat/turn the heating on/take a complaint from an employee that she can't type because her fingers are BLUE!

I'm moving to somewhere where they understand the concept of hot and cold, and adapt their buildings accordingly. And I'm buying some thermal socks.

Quarter Life Crisis?!

I think I am having some kind of crisis. I've become completely obsessed with my inability to work out what I want from life. Surely by this point I should have a clear idea of what I want to do with my life, should be able to say for good or for ill what the true state of my marriage is, and be thinking seriously about Important Things like buying a house and learning to drive, and probably even be able to think about babies without wanting to chuck up.

As it is, I'm vacillating wildly about my career choice - should I go down the academic route (MA, PhD, lecturing), or should I stick with student services for a bit and start looking for a proper Student Adviser post with lots of helping stricken students and lots more money? Or, right out of left field, do I do my European Integration MA and go for a job in Brussells or similar? I honestly haven't a clue, but I know I'm bored out of my box here and working at a level considerably below what I'm capable of.

I don't want to buy a house, because I like renting and I don't have the faintest clue where I want to settle, if I want to settle at all. I can't start learning to drive again because it's too expensive, and I'm a lousy driver anyway. And I hate children 90% of the time, but because He doesn't I keep feeling honour-bound to say things like "When we have kids", even though it makes me sweaty and nauseous even thinking about being at the beck and call of a smelly pukey thing that will then grow into a stroppy angry ungrateful thing, and will hold my life hostage for at least 18 years.

As for my marriage... I love Him. That's the one thing I know for sure. But the thing they never tell you is that that isn't always enough. I'm terrified that the differences in our opinions and values that always seemed so exciting and interesting might actually start to grate and crush the brilliantness of our relationship. I'm scared it's already started. I'm just scared full stop.

I think I'm having one of those quarter-life crisis thingies.

Scrooged

Well, the Christmas debate seems to finally be resolved, if not much else.

My family on Christmas Eve, back home so we can spend Christmas Eve night and Christmas morning at our house, over to MIL's for the Christmas Dinner of Doom and the night, then over to Mars and Venus' on Boxing Day and the night, then home on 27th. Am I entirely happy? No. Do I wish I was going to be at Joni and TopGun's with all my family for lots of food and booze and laughter? Yes.

But hey, He has to come to my family Christmas next year. So that's fair... Well, in a year's time it will be anyway.

They Call It Madness

Things are getting stranger and stranger. I'm beginning to suspect that my life is a kind of Truman Show for God and his mates. I think they have interactive voting as to what they're going to inflict on me next, and then they watch and laugh/cry/yawn.

He says He sees our lives going in different directions in the future. My head is inclined to agree a little bit with that possibility. My heart feels like it's cracking slightly every time we have a discussion about the future. I don't want my best friend/lover/husband to break my heart. I don't think I could stand it.

On the other hand, He's happily talking about us moving house into a place where we can convert one room into a big studio for painting/music/writing/his 3D animation stuff, and talking about our holidays next year, and when we go travelling, and blah blah blah.

I have no fucking idea what's going on. And for the first time in my whole life, I'm too scared to ask a difficult question. Actually no, if I'm honest, it's the answer I'm scared of.

All The Leaves Are Brown And The Sky Is Grey

I hate this country in winter. Don't get me wrong, I love cold weather and adore a crisp breeze that cuts through your clothes and makes your skin sting, but the unremitting grey of the sky reflected in the grey of the buildings and pavements and the dull colours of people's clothing just makes me feel depressed. It's a colourless environment.

I do try hard to keep my indoor spaces full of light and colour, but it's difficult when there's barely any natural light, and I get home from work after dark. Thank god I manage to get a tiny bit of greyish dawn light on my walk to work or I would go entirely SAD crazy.

I need some sunshine dammit!

Right, I'm off to look for mail-order daylight simulating bulbs...

Can't Be Bothered to Think of a Witty Title...

... sorry.

I am quite happy at the moment. I feel light and giggly and generally fab. God knows why.

Which means I don't really have much to blog about right now, other than the fact that life is okay, and that feels nice.

Plans are afoot though. But shhh, don't tell anyone, I'll fill you in tomorrow.

Mourning Glory

Funeral yesterday. There is something profoundly wrong about sitting in a church for 45 minutes staring at the stained glass windows, and knowing that you are supposed to be feeling sad, but are actually feeling bored by the religious droning and have a numb arse.

It makes me wonder what the hell they are going to do with my body when I die, because I'm not having a bloody Christian service. What a screaming hypocrite that would make me.

But anyway, it was horrible and impersonal and generally nasty. I had to read what LotusMomma had written, and did so in my best chanelling-Rupert-Campbell-Black way with cut glass accent and a hint of arrogance. Everyone was staring in horror at my knee high boots and fashionable skirt, and even more so at my clean shiny hair. What can I say, sartorial elegance has not yet reached Wolverhampton...

But in a cloud/lining/silver kind of thing: once the will goes through probate etc etc etc I will be several thousand pounds better off, and able to start my MA through the OU, with any luck.

Now, I am aware this may all sound horribly insensitive. But we all have our own ways of dealing with things. And anyway, would you hate me any less if I lied and pretended the funeral was lovely and the money isn't important?

Note

For the way I'm feeling today, please see the politics page here: http://dramaqueenpolitics.blogspot.com/2005/11/partners-in-war-crime.html

I might post on here a bit later.

The Dangers of Having a Life

Now that I have a social life again, I'm remembering the negative side of it.

After Monday night's boozefest I had vowed to be sensible on schoolnights from now on. Unfortunately, last night a 'quick one' after work at 5pm with Little Miss C (one of His and my colleagues) and Walkabout (her boyfriend) turned into a slow several, and we didn't roll home til 9:30. So once again, I am suffering a bit this morning.

Ah, fuck it though. I'm having fun. Surely that's what matters?!

What Can I Say?

Quite pissy today. Not much else to report. Very very much want to get out of here at the moment, and am thinking of circulating my wonderful CV round a few universities and getting some feedback. I miss living by the sea, and having seen the lovely Hamble-ites (family who live in Hamble-le-Rice, near Southampton, for those of you not versed in UK geography) on Sunday, I miss sailing and wholesome beach walks and having friends with big dogs. (Not that I'm the wholesome type, or ever will be, but sometimes it's nice to experience it for a weekend).

So yes, that's about it. Feeling pissy and craving a move.

Mgrurrruahurrr...

... is the moany kind of noise that I want to lie on the sofa making all day while eating fried food and drinking lots and lots of water.

I am SO hungover.

Had the most fantastic evening last night though. Got to London at 4, met Mockley, proceeded straight to the Spitz without passing go or (sadly) collecting £200, necked a bottle of wine, got all nostalgic, and decided we needed company. Him and PianoMan turned up in quick succession, then Sweepy popped in for a glass of wine, followed by DrG who I haven't seen for aaaaaaaaaaages (DrG, Mockley, Queen of the Irish and I used to share a house).

Things degenerated fast as the wine flowed and we all gabbled nineteen to the dozen. Kept meaning to go and get food, but then kept putting it off. In the end, Mockley's brother turned up on his bike, and we finally dragged ourselves across the road to Pizza Express, where another four bottles of wine were demolished, pizza was eaten, and great fun was had by all.

The only bad bit was the end of the night when, at midnight, we wandered back to the station and had to say goodbye. Mockley and I just about held it together, but it was close. New York? Pah! Stay here with meeeeeeee!!!!!!!! No, not really. I'm so proud of her for going it's not even true. But I will miss her like crazy.

So, got home at 1:30, considered puking, decided against it, woke up at 7 feeling like death. And now I'm at work.

I don't care what anyone says, with four days to go til the weekend, Mondays will NEVER be the new Friday!