Impulses

I thought it might be interesting to follow up on my previous blog. Yes, indeed something was burning!! It was a Chinese Market/Store that started just before I started smelling it and continued well into the next day causing chaos with trams and people alike. Thankfully no one died.

That aside, I felt like writing. Actually the oddity is that I was just randomly poking around on the NaNo forum walls for the region and well, they were kinda quiet. And then I was thinking about NaNo in general and realised I was quite looking forward to November again. I have no idea what I'll write about this year, but strangely so that does not bother me. I think I like the challenge of it. I think I like how it's not something I have a huge amount of control over. I like the chase, I like how I get a thrill from seeing the word count go up and up.

Erin has finally arrived in the UK which is great news. In fact it was so easy for her to get through customs that she was out and in the arrivals hall before I even arrived at the airport! In saying that, her flight was early and we worked out if it had arrived on time, I'd have been there. But such a drastic difference to January! Thus now we're trying to adjust to being an 'Us' again. It is quite strange really. No, not strange. Just odd. Different. I know I spent so much time thinking about and remembering that life we had back when we had it . . . it's much harder to slip back into than I thought it would be. And after 15 months apart, that's not actually all that surprising.

In addition to that, I think a part of me is shifting too. I can't really explain it. I won't even attempt to. There's just that thought or feeling that something is to come. Who knows, maybe I'll get a really awesome job!! Or win the lotto!! Or maybe I shall get a really cool camera soon!!

Alas, break is almost over. To work I go . . .

Night Burning

Its well into July and I realised that it has been some time since I last blogged. Years ago it would have been writing in journal, and while that still happens, technology has moved on. That's not to say that I still don't use the conventional pen and paper -because I do. I believe I always will. But it is much easier to type, I can get out much more much quicker. I've had this discussion multiple times before.

I guess what always strikes me is how much can happen in such a small amount of time and how intense the emotions can be which are attached to them. You would think that with so much going on in life that writing would be the logical way to sort things out. And usually that is the case. But more and more I am finding that the thoughts, the words, the expressions just want to stay in my mind. I'm yet to figure why that's the case because as some of you know, it's the easiest thing in the world for me to do. Or it used to be. There's a huge block there now days, almost like an inner censorship which will not allow things to leave the confines of that silly grey matter aloft up there.

This evening my windows are open. Like most really. However, the scent of what I can only associate to a campfire has come wafting in. Some person out there has quite randomly decided to burn something not realised just how far away it can send me. As I sit here in my boxed up flat, I find myself not looking at the cardboard, not aware of the couch or the carpet, of the time of day. Rather all I can think of in my mind, all I can feel around me, are the moments in time I've found myself at Minda Killara. There are some quite pivotal moments had there, as a girl, a teenager and as a young adult. I find myself missing the place. I guess I'd not given it much thought until right now. How I yearn to sit in what was once the chapel, a clearing on the side of a hill looking out over the gum trees in the morning light, listening to the Kookaburra's calling to each other.

Its a big week. This weekend I make the move to South Croydon, I'm looking forward to it, but dreading it all at the same time. Moving is stressful. Though its nothing compared to moving half way across the world, this still somehow seems challenging. Within mere days of that, Erin shall arrive. To be honest I'm dreading the return to Gatwick airport. While I know that the visa has been approved, and I know nothing should go wrong, and while I anticipate a long wait, my gut just isn't happy. Like I am expecting something else to go wrong. Its a rather negative outlook to have, I know, but I guess I'm waiting for the next bump on the road. It could be somewhat nieve to think that from this point on, things should start going in our direction, life will return to normal domestic bliss. A part of me wonders if that will ever happen again. Almost like I have forgotten what that feels like.

Amazingly, its been almost two years since the move to the UK was decided on, some nineteen months since it was executed and a long sixteen months of ups and downs here in Old London Town. What is it like to be normal again? To a degree it's been partly normal, I've got a job and a routine and had a place to live. And yet . . . its been abnormal too.

Understandably there's a lot of uncertainty. That's to be expected. However I'm tired of that being my excuse. I've used it so much in recent times!! I'm tired of it being expected, I want it all to settle down again!!

Hmmm, how's that for a side track. I write because I can smell and remember a comforting place. Though when I say it like that its less random and more significant. I have just realised, this is the longest I have ever been gone from Australia. Wholly crap. Yep, I've been gone 19 months!

Working, is it?

Something which has astounded me this past week is just how out of touch I have been with things. The past few months have been tough, which is both known and understandable. But the scary part is how self aware I was. The answer, not very. Communication via many means has been at an all time low. Days blurred into weeks simply by sleeping, eating and working. Sleeping too little, eating too much and working away at a job which has consumed my soul. That's about the best way I can put it.

Lets get one thing clear. I am grateful for a wage, its been better than nothing, though the reality is that I live month to month. Barely. But I live. I'm also incredibly lucky to have worked with the dwindling team that I have. I certainly have no gripes about them. Nothing beyond normal. In fact, should they know it or not, in some ways each of them has played a role in supporting me. And it's this which I've realised has become a problem. My key issue is that I am far too loyal. I don't mean to say that big headedly (is that even a word?). In fact some of you have openly told me that its a flaw of mine. And I'm starting to see why.

Right now I'm caught between being the loyal person I am, and being selfish and careless enough to want to walk away. Bottom line is I won't because I'm not that stupid to put myself in a situation not to have a wage. For those of you who know me and know me well, I can be a passionate person. I've always been a hard worker and I've always been lucky enough to work with and for, people who value that.

I've become aware of how far away from that person I have become. I've come to realise that my current employment situation has not only worn down my working spirit and ethic, but my expectations as well. Frankly, I don't want to do anything. And why should I? That seems to have become my attitude and I HATE that. I've never been against a lot of hard work for little in return. But the difference has always been that it's been worth it. My current job, is not.

Yesterday afternoon I sat on the North End here in Croydon. And can I say, there are far too many pubs in Croydon, make of that what you will. As the sun lowered in the sky, I watched people walk by. I started to think about how life is going to get so much better and that the promise of the life I want is much stronger now. How the blockage has gone. Which is ironic really, because we talk about blockages at work, though we actually use a different term. The irony is that work itself has become a blockage. I need to get out, I need to save whatever remains of my former working self before it too is gone. But on the flip side, I don't want to let anyone down.

I guess in some ways I should have seen this coming. Stupidly I turned down a job just before Christmas. It really didn't pay too much more than I was earning. At the time there were great discussions with the powers that be about how things were going to get better. Its now six months later and I actually believe things are a damn sight worse. All I could think about yesterday was that how maybe I'd missed my chance at Christmas, my chance to escape and move on. Now I feel stuck between a rock and a hard place.

When talking to Erin about how brilliant it is that she's finally going to be able to get here (and it totally is, in case you've not gotten that yet!!) she said that it didn't solve all my problems. I laughingly said it didn't matter, it would make them better able to be handled. In part I was right, but in part so was she. In fact I think having one part of my life go right and free up some of the consciousness, it's made me more aware of other areas that are lacking and wrong.

Yes, I am a believer in things happening for a reason. However if I reflect over the past 12 months, I can't quite figure out the benefits of taking on this job. Aside from saving me from more months of unemployment. If we are to learn something from all things, all happenings in life, what the hell have I learned from this? And how has it been to my advantage?

The Wait is Over!

I've been crying. Yes indeed, I will admit it to the world, I sobbed and sobbed! Not tears of sadness, but joy, and more over, release. I hadn't quite realised how much I had been trying not to think about how I felt. And when you consider the level to which I was aware, the fact I'm aware of even more only begins to describe how things have been.

I'll be honest, this past week or so I'd all but convinced myself that life was going to drastically change for the worse. I'd been thinking about single life, about where to live and what to do. I had a third anxiety attack. It was all over and done with because I couldn't handle the waiting. It sounds silly really, but it's been a long 15 months apart with a brief, yet stressful, four days together. And yet today, June 17th, the news finally arrives that Erin's visa has been approved!

The love and support I have been given these past few but long months, has been amazing. Family, friends and my Phile Family have in both large and small ways continued to remind me that no matter what the outcome, people love me and will be there for me in any way that they can. To those who wrote letters of support for the Visa application. I thank you in more ways that I ever could. There were some beautiful words said, and know that they are treasured. To those who listened to me moan, complain, cry and yell, indeed all the spectrum of human emotion there are -I will in debt to you. It's not been easy putting up with me. But you have and you are still here. That means the world to me. I am sure I could keep listing. To everyone else, you know who you are and what you have done.

Indeed, there is still lots to do. Plan and move and save and sign. But we know. We have our answer. The plans we made and put on hold can again start to move forward. No longer will life be on hold. It took time, and far more patients and emotions than I knew I was capable of. However I can surely say it has been worth it. Much needs to happen now, but by comparison, to me it seems easy as now the wait is over.

Now, I can sleep.

That's Twisted

No big news yet! Let's just get that out now. Still, there are a couple of days left of the week so I shouldn't rule it out yet. However, another curious thing has happened this week which I hadn't expected and isn't entirely a bad thing. I've started to write again. I'm not even sure what set it off to be honest, but it was almost like I woke up, and it was there. The urge. That idea. Can I tell you how great it felt yesterday (one of the many instances I've had) to pick up a pen and just write, to have the words flow out and fill half a page in no time. I didn't even know what I was writing about, I just wrote it. And it's not half bad for a mostly unconscious effort!

I've a couple of small choices to make this week, nothing hugely dramatic, but I think I have them sorted out. And peacefully so. Which I'm glad of. And one I am a bit excited about. No, I'm not going away anywhere, unfortunately! Though I really would like to.

Guides this week and next week sees me at the steering wheel. We're going to do the Australian Challenge which I've got to be honest, isn't really all that Australian. I mean bits of it are, and in occar form. Anyway, I'm looking forward to it. I'm enjoying being with an active unit again, though the timing is bad because summer is not far off starting and there will be a huge break! Just as I was starting to get the hang of some of the kids names! The end of term will be a Decades Night, for the Centenary, and each patrol is taking a decade and running an activity. Some are going all out and dressing up big time!! Others not so much.

Yesterday I ventured into the Croydon Library and signed up for a Library card. Only took me a year. Ha ha ha, no point rushing into these things. Initially I was excited by all the wonderful books I could borrow, but I have to admit to leaving feeling somewhat dismal and disheartened by the collection they have there. Seriously, it leaves a lot to be desired for. Unless that's a reflection of the community which is both unsurprising and surprising considering it is a student town.

Great Expectations

There is something in the air today. I'm not really sure what it is. Sure, probably the usual mix of pollution, garbage and onions which by chance seems to be the vegetable fragrance of choice around here of late. I'm not sure why that is. However, there is also something else. A sense of knowing I think. No. A sense of expectation, like big things are going to happen.

True, this could come in any great shape or form. I dare not hold my breath in the hope of news of the visa coming through. I think that might be expecting just a tad too much. But it's something else. It's something big. Seriously, I have this sense of awe and excitement much like I had getting on the plant to fly to Pax Lodge a couple of years ago. Minus the fear of course. Heck, I had no idea what I'd let myself in for then!

Quite simply, I can't shake it. As a result I've been in an unusually good mood today. No, scrub that. Not a good mood, a positive mood. Nothing has bummed me out. Not my laundry, not my dishes, not even cleaning the hair from the shower drain. Oh come on, hair falls out when you shower! And seriously, I don't scoop it all out after every single wash. You don't either, so don't judge me! However, we're not talking about my cleaning habits. We were talking about great expectations.

Thus I put it to fate now, this week better be a promising one! I expect it to be! I expect a big piece of good news, got that?! I'm just not sure what it is. Actually I feel for certain it's not the visa. I think it's job related, be it my current employment of maybe the prospect of future employment? Yes, it's job driven. Or related. Ohh maybe someone I work with has good news. Ohh maybe there's a baby on the way! Or someone is getting married. Or a raise Or . . .hmmm that one I can't announce to the world as it's not mine to announce. But that's a thought . . .

Oh wow, now I am excited!! I even think I am looking forward to going t work tomorrow!

Blah Blah Blah

It's a month until my 26th Birthday! I'm entirely sure why I have an ! at the end of that line. Admittedly I'm not all that excited about it. I've been far too concerned thinking about how quickly (in some ways) time has been moving along and how quickly I will be 30 soon. I think I'm having a midlife crisis. Or mid twenties crisis.

I'm in a weird mood. I actually feel like company this evening. Which is odd because usually at the end of a day at work with so many people coming and going, the last thing I want to have to deal with is entertaining guests. Eh. It'll pass no doubt. Lately my emotions are like the seasons. Too many in a day!

The day started with me looking at people and hearing nothing but that noise the adults make in the Charlie Brown cartoons. Seriously! And the brain has been so slow to process things today, I feel like the computer at work. Always slow to process. As the day went on, I was excited and mused by a few different things. Then I went to Mothercare which opened a whole can or worms I'd rather not go into at the moment. And now, well, I just am. Right here in this moment. A lull. Something exciting needs to happen people!!

The Waiting Game

I've always considered myself to be a patient person. Depending on the circumstance, some would say I have the patience of a saint. I on the other hand know there are times when quite frankly my patience fails me and all I feel like doing is slamming someones head into a wall. Oh come on, this should not come as any shock, I am a redhead after all!! Besides, you can't tell me you've not had one of those moments. Ever. Circumstances, I know, I know.

My patience right now is pushing the limit, though much different to anything I've experienced before. We've now entered into week five of waiting for news on Erin's Visa. I know the reality is that I need to pace myself, there still could be a few weeks of this to go, but somehow it's managed to creep up on me without my knowing it. I spent most of Monday unable to focus on anything. The coin finally dropped this evening as I was walking home as to what is causing all this unrest, this fidgeting, this lack of attention. Indeed, what has caused the onset of my anxiety attacks to return.

Yes thats right. For those of you who didn't know, I suffered from them upon my return to Australia a few years ago. With thanks to a supportive friend, a great therapist and eventually some medication, I got them under control and eventually they were gone. I should have seen the signs really. I had a small one a week back. But at the time I'd just put it down to being tired. Indeed stressing out about things. It was the one which crept up on me walking home this evening that made me understand that somehow, some way, everything that I am feeling (or not at times) is because I am waiting.

It sounds stupid I know, and the easiest thing in the world to say that I should just get on with it and wait and see what happens and sort of plan some damage control for either outcome. Have a back up plan. Have something ready. And indeed I did do that. Have done that. But there are factors and outcomes involved in all this which not everyone is aware of and may never be unless they need to. Which is fine, that's my right. I remain, as always, a private person in certain matters. Its just that, I have moments where I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a river and the water is rushing by all around me. I watch people come and go and plan and laugh and all the things which come together when living life. I'm just there. Waiting. Waiting for the bus that never seems to come when you've got some place to be.

For what it's worth, I've probably been ignorant enough until recent months to this feeling. The reality is for Erin that's something she's been dealing with for some time having put an education on hold in the hopes of having her personal life sorted. And to a degree, maybe I knew that and maybe I was aware that I myself was doing that too. I just didn't expect it to all come shouting at me all at once. I find myself wanting to check e-mail every 5 minutes. Check my phone. Check anything which might indicate to me what is going to happen today. Tomorrow. Next week or god forbid, next month.

I wish I were like people who lost weight when under pressure. Clearly I am not. I unfortunately was blessed with the curse of eating my emotions. Or drinking. Or smoking, though that one not so much any more. I constantly feel like an addict must feel waiting for that next hit. I'm jittery. I can't seem to focus too much. I seem to have this energy which needs to get out but somehow manifests not into the desire to take a walk (or laughably so, a run) rather I've realised it holds me prisoner. In a room. In a building. In a mindset which can think of nothing else and it's driving me mad! Gah!

A-hem. I'll calm myself. Its times like this I wish it were November and I could bury myself into the need to finish NaNo. And trust me, I've tried to fool myself into thinking it's the perfect time to write, to explore and expand the world of past, present and new characters. But when it comes to sitting down, hands poised over the key board all I get is that stupid blinking cursor sitting on the word document before me. And then I lose focus.

Thus it becomes a vicious circle. Dearest Immigration Visa Person, where ever you are, please, please, PLEASE hurry up and make your mind up. On the flip side, knowing also scares me. I can't win either way.

The Road to Plymouth

I'm not actually going to take the metaphorical approach to that one! Basically, I need a break, albeit a cheap but effective one. I've been asked a few times now why I chose Plymouth. Pretty much I looked at my UK map, chose somewhere in Britain I'd not been to yet, was far away and cheap enough to get to. And here I am!

The idea of a 5h 20m coach journey might seem like a nightmare. True, I ended up with a stranger next to me who stunk to high heaven of airplane (you know that stale air smell, and admittedly she did get on at Heathrow and admittedly she said she'd been on a plane all night . . .). True the bloke behind me never once got off his phone. True, for a multitude of reasons the journey became close to 7 hours. But frankly, it didn't matter. As strange as it sounds, the further we drove from London, I could almost feel myself relax. Put everything out of my mind and just enjoy the scenery, the brilliant tunes on my iPod and consider that the only thing which would improve the trip was if I was actually driving. And somehow I don't think Dave would be okay with that. Mind you, by the time we got here he may have been willing!

When I chose a weekend to take off, it didn't occur to me to check for a Bank Holiday. And then when I chose Plymouth, it didn't occur to me to check for the annual Plymouth Mini Marathon . . .but oh wells!! Point being, the traffic today was chaos. Combined with road work (which there seem to be a hell of a lot of!) we were all ready behind in time before we got to Bristol. By the time we got to Sedgecombe, we were so far behind that we had to stop because Dave the driver had to take his mandatory 45 minute break. Frankly I didn't care. I was enjoying the trip! The scenery was stunning and it was a glorious day! Sunshine and blue skies.

The coach's final destination was Penzance, and the irony was not lost on me when Captain Jack Sparrow boarded. I'm serious!! Though I was disappointed when he alighted here in Plymouth. Speaking of which, there's a WalkAbout here! I've found my entertainment for tomorrow night! Anyways, along the road I spotted deer, a hawk and a dinosaur. Driving through Bristol I saw a group of guys in women's bathing suits. Armed with cans of beer. No doubt they'll have had an interesting evening!

Plymouth was lovely when I got here. Seaside!! It has been a stunning evening and I've just sort of relaxed and enjoyed a TV! I found my way from the bus station to West Hoe with little or no direction or help, just the memory of a birds eye view map of the area! I came to the Guest House/B&B I'm staying at where I was greeted by the husband of the couple who own the place. He's Spanish and introduced himself with his Spanish name and seeing my concern at being able to pronounce it properly, he declared that I could just call him Justin! I'm staying on the second floor in room number 7. Its my own room, has a shower and sink it in and the toilet is out on the landing. I quite like it. And the bed is comfy and I have a TV, lol. So it really is a holiday!! For those of you who don't get that, I don't have a TV at home and haven't for over 12 months now.

Anyways, I unpacked everything and then went out for a walk to a local store and purchased a few bits and pieces in terms of food and snack type stuff for the next few days. I then stopped at a fish and chip shop and got my dinner, then went and sat on the seaside and ate it. Literally, it's like a 2 minute walk from here, if that. We actually have a roof top garden here and the view is very cool! I am thinking I may go sit out there at some stage over the next few days and do a little reading. Maybe Sunday evening.

Still Waters

Oh my goodness, was that Summer who dropped by today?! At long last it seems some full on sunshine and heat has arrived. And a descent temperature showed up as well, clouds vanished and the streets were empty. Everyone was too busy stripping off and laying in the park!! I can only assume this mind you as I didn't wander very far from my flat today, but that seems to be the trend here. A little sunshine equals a lot of skin. I'm not going to get into that argument because my point always seems to be lost! I must learn to argue it better. Perhaps one day I will. That day though, is not today.

Today was better than yesterday. Simply because I was left up to my own devices which is always an added bonus. In saying that it was filled with domestic duties. Thus it frees up tomorrow for a much more impending task at hand, and one that has been continuing since the middle of Feb. Though that in itself seems to be an echo of words I muttered this time last year. Its fate puking itself up again no doubt, trying to teach me a lesson I missed the first time. Well newsflash: I missed it again because I'm in almost the exact same position!! Almost. At least this year I have a job. Which doesn't say a lot really, and not that I am ungrateful or anything, I just know next time I ought to think things through a little bit. There are so many aspects of that problem I could have done without, I promise you.

Right now things feel a bit like a calm lake, right before the monster comes out and grabs you. I'm tempted to just jump in and cause a splash and make rippled. But its also scary too. I actually hate this feeling because I don't know what's next. I should have seen it all coming really, jamming myself in between a rock and a hard place.

I'm not really sure I'm saying anything at all, just writing words for the hell of it. I've not made any sense of anything, though perhaps if you've made sense of it, you're one up on me!! Its getting on in the evening. I was awake into the early hours of this morning, and kind of dozed a little earlier this evening which I should have guessed would have been a bad mistake. Will make sleeping this evening and interesting task to say the least.

Along the Edge

Its been incredibly hard of late to put into words what it is I've been feeling and will continue to feel for some time yet. Late this afternoon I took a nanna nap. Yes, laugh, but that's not where I was wanting to take this!! During this nap, I dreamed a vivid dream unlike any I've had for a very long time. Scope wise, it felt like I was watching a movie at IMAX, on a massive screen in 3D motion.

I found myself walking along a high clifftop, right along the edge, arms spread either side of me to help me hold my balance. To my right spread the ground with trees and grass and roads and buildings. An elaborate canvas of colour and life, with birds and cows. Long grass, short grass. An abundance of stability and foundation, in a representation of all that is routine and solid. A person could run and laugh, dance and sing. The sun shone. It was perfect. Yes, solid is the right word.

When I looked to my left there was nothing. A vast expanse of space as the ground gave way to what could only be described as a canyon. The feeling as I looked out was much like the one I had standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, only bigger. I couldn't see the bottom. There were thin clouds and moisture. A great opening of soundless air and chills waiting to swallow me whole. If I fell I would fall slowly, arms waving frantically and my face filled with fear.

And yet the duration of this dream I walked that fine line in between. Right along the edge. Constantly looking from left to right and right to left. The edge continued in front of me for as far as the eye could see. When I woke, I realised that is what I felt. Its what I feel. Like everything right now is a delicate balance and until my footing fails me and I fall either way, I must continue straight ahead being taunted and teased by each possibility but never knowing which way will end up being my fate.

Life has become heavy. I feel that for the first time in my life that if I had a remote control, I would not fast forward nor pause, rather I would rewind. Now, let me say this firmly and with certainty: I am not wanting to move back to Australia and I am not regretting the move. But what I crave is a life which at one point felt complicated but in hindsight I know really wasn't. Not truly. To pause life as it is right now is to be stuck in a void of nothingness, nothing beyond simply existing. Fast Forward would mean knowing what fate had planned out for me, it would have the answer I am terrified to have, yet crave like a drug addiction. Thus my only option for grounding is rewind. To go back to a time where by comparison I felt happy. I felt secure. I did not feel scared. As a person who is constantly told how strong I am, how mature I am, how much I am admired for having guts and daring -I really am not that person. For what feels like the first time in my life I am terrified of so many, many things.

Mindless Stuff

I wonder why it is you cannot cut your own hair? I mean, you clearly can. Just pick up a pair of scissors and snip away. Chances are the outcome won't be ideal, but you could do it. Its just that I'm in dire need of a cut. Its bad. And so I was thinking this morning as I was brushing my teeth, about how I could cut it myself and keep it somewhat presentable. Yes, I'm stingy and cheap I know, but I'm on a budget!! So my little mathematical brain was trying to think about angle and cut and well, it just didn't work out for me. Tips anyone?

Then on the way to work this morning I started to think about sunglasses. You see, its been bright enough of late that I've needed a pair because the daylight is hurting my eyes. I mean, bright sunlight. Yes, we do indeed get some here! Point being that on Saturday on my way home I went and got a pair (yes on a budget, tis my middle name!) and well, I'm happy with them. Which is good. And rare. So I wore them home which is fine. But I also had them on this morning as it was bright and sunny out. And it struck me that I was the only person I could see who was wearing them. I felt a little bit odd. Actually if I am honest, I felt really daft!! I was just suddenly aware that I was like the people who wear sunglasses in shopping centres. Anyways, I began to wonder if I was the only person who was like that. Are my eyes really that sensitive?

You might wonder about the significance of these to rather mundane and pointless pondering. Its simple. For me its a sign my brain is starting to function again. There are times that it becomes so stagnant that there are no thoughts in there at all. Its empty. Hollow. Like a giant hall you can make footsteps echo in. Yet when I start to have these thoughts, for me its a sign that the cogs are beginning to turn again. Usually this doesn't happen until October, right before I am gearing up for NaNoWriMo. Right before I'm trying to think of something to write about, like my body is expecting that to happen. So I'm curious, what might this mean now?

Sunshine Days

There is something brilliant about the colour which surrounds you in spring. Flowers start to bloom. Trees once more look healthy, grass is green and much more blue sky appears. When you add sunshine into the equation, what emerges is this canvas of bright and vibrant colour. Greens and pinks and blues and all sorts. Its really quite a glorious thing to see. Somehow it always manages to lift your spirits.

Goodness knows I need it. Genuine smiles these days are few and far between. All things considered, its a wonder I smile at all. But I do. That's one of the worst things about my job. No matter how I feel inside, you just have to keep smiling. Keep making people believe all is well and good. I sometimes wonder if thats why I find myself being so tired. Goodness knows my sleep patterns have been all over the place, but maybe its the sheer energy it takes to wear that face all day . . .true, some days I just can't quite do it.

A lot is going to happen. Six weeks from now life could be a very different thing. There is a fork in the road ahead and I'm driving about 100 miles an hour to get there. And I won't know I've hit it until I literally do. That's the scary part. I can plan and anticipate either outcome, but until it arrives no amount of prediction is going to help me deal with the reality of it. Sounds all rather dramatic I know, however the truth of the matter it really is. For me. For the people involved. What scares me is the distinct lack of support I have here. Emotionally. I really don't feel I have anyone to go to, not without it being weird or awkward. Likely on my part, but that's me!

Which brings me to a very special group of people I want to talk about. My Aussie X-Phile Family. Corny, yes. Very geek like, yes. The past month, maybe two, I'm not really sure because I've lost complete sense of time passing. Point being that for some period of time now they've been a source of love and support in a very distant way and when I least expected it. Truth be that we're from all over the place and I've only actually met four of them in person. Yet many more have been a part of some mass postage campaign of love whereby I come home at the end of the day and find a random postcard waiting from me. Even from people I have never met. More often than not, it makes me both cry and smile all at the same time!!

Just over two years ago now I joined a very small Facebook group of fans. Seriously guys, it was small. Over that time it's grown and they've become a group and a family I'd never expected to have and one I'm not sure many people will really understand. I've learnt a lot from them, and together we've each been rocks in time of a storm, a ray of sunshine on a dull day, a burst of laughter from the most serious of moments. I guess I just wanted to say, somehow, that I appreciate everything I've gained from them. I'm so far away from all that once seemed familiar during a period of turbulence unlike anything I've prepared for. And yet there, on the sidelines they wait, ready to swoop forward and hug me. Of sorts.

However, it also points out to me the lack of human contact I have. Lack of everything I have right now. And I mean everything. It scares me a lot.

I did indeed find a Guide Unit to join which I have to admit is very exciting. I've only been along once to see them, but I look forward to a bright future with them. A huge group of 30 kids all roughly the same age which will be a new challenge I'm sure. But it's an exciting one. I walked away that night and found that a small part of me had been revived. Bring it on!!

Let me point out. At this very point in time I'm not sad or depressed. Indeed I'm not overly joyous either, I just am. I'm thinking about things. I've been applying for jobs. Trying to figure out what I'm going to make for dinner. Listening to music, contemplating reading, tossing up the pros and cons of going for a walk and risk being rained on. My mind is going around in circles and I know that sometimes its good to word it out. And thats what I am doing.

Well see what started it was looking out my kitchen window and the now filled trees again. The thoughts just sort of flowed from there. As they tend to do.

You see . . .

There's not a lot I have to say really. No I guess I should re-word that. There's not a lot I can say. That's part of the problem with a blog, unlike a personal, physical journal, it's something the world has access to. Mind you, past experiences show me that this too can happen with a real journal -you know who you are.

Point being I feel like talking. Not really to anyone in particular mind you, just talking. Trying to give method to the madness that rolls around in my mind every once in a while. Its like suddenly I've tuned into three different radio stations at the same time, one is playing loud banging music, one is static and one is a bunch of adverts. All different pitches, but all just pounding out at me. Makes it sound like I've little people in my head, banging on the inside of my skull. Which then makes me sound like I have multiple personalities. I do not.

Its just that sometimes talking something out makes more sense. Makes things seem real and plausable and practical. Not that there is any one thing bothing me, rather a few different things that sometimes I need someone else to talk to about to get their point of view. To make sure I"m not mad, or being dramatic or jumping the gun. I suppose I'm not really making all that much sense. In the grand scheme of things I am fine, rest assured its sunny outside and I feel happy. Which I have to add is nice, the past three days have been wonderful sunny, spring days and we're supposed to have a few more. This is the kind of weather I have missed. I rather enjoy it.

I've been reading much more lately. Laid off the writing part and decided to indulge in the work of others. Usually it creates this response, because I will have read something which has made me think about something in a different way. Then I'll have a conversation which then turns around what it is I've read. Like I don't have enough on my mind!! What I was driving to (man I miss that) was that in the choice to read much more (and varied at that) I have to be prepared to want to talk more. To think more. To verbally trace those very patterns. Only I wasn't quite prepared this time.

I've also realised I've used a whole bunch of words to really say nothing at all. What a bore I am.

During the week I placed my passport and Aussie drivers licence in an envelope and posted it away. That's right, I'm getting a UK drivers license. Which really I should have made a much more memorable moment. That was the last time I was to touch my first, full driving licence!! Such memories!! However in light that its shortly to expire and the notion that this summer I want to do a little driving, its time to let go of the old and welcome the new!! All I pray is that my passport comes back in one piece. Such a tight bond I have with that little book.

The other thing which happened during the week was the oh so close, but not quite, light at the end of the tunnel. I was offered a job! However, it was only a temp job and not a position I'd initially applied for. The idea is to take on a job that will provide me with a better income, not a lesser one! At the time I'd used the term 'job stability' but in light of recent times, I'm not even sure thats applicable any more. But yes, for a moment there I was very excited! Alas, nothing changes though. On and on I shall go until the next glimmer shows itself. At least I have a job, right? For that, if nothing else, I should be thankful. Well that and a few other things which again I need not go into where all the world can see.

Hmmm I think I am getting hungry. Tonight I am cooking Mexican.

Essence

Every once in a while I need to be reminded why it is, of all the cities in all the world, that I've chosen to call London home. True the legalities of living in some cities are so complicated that it would take years to get right. Most would assume that London is the chosen one simply because of the convenience of having a Right of Abode. Indeed, it makes the process somewhat simpler. However, it's not the full weight of the decision. Personal life will indeed have its advantages living here, but there again it's not the full weight of the decision. No one thing is. In saying that, one factor does indeed sway me much more significantly then others. Belonging.

In talking to people about this, it always leads to one inevitable question: Did you not feel like you belonged in Melbourne? The simple answer is: no. The complicated answer is: I never had. Now don't get me wrong, Melbourne is a fine city, it's has a vibration of life unique to any other, it has beach and mountains and bush and snow all within a reasonable distance. People are friendly, the lifestyle relaxed and visually it really can be stunning. But a sense of belonging goes much deeper than that. Much in the same way you can make the distinction between a House and a Home.

When I was preparing to go overseas at 17, I somehow knew it was going to be an important trip. The clincher -I just didn't realise how important. Upon my return some three weeks later I was a changed person, both obviously and not so much. In that time I fell in love with Vancouver in the way that most people fall in love with places they go on holiday to. What the subtle, yet significant difference is, is a sense of belonging. I felt I belonged somewhere. For the longest time it confused me. I questioned myself over and over and over again as to how I could feel such a way when in reality I spent a little over a week in Vancouver before moving on elsewhere. As confused as I was about this, it clarified one thing: a simple sense of knowing that I would not live out my days in the fair city I was born in. I'd known for some time that this would be the case, that feeling, that hunch or even that hope that there was something more out there for me. What the trip did was made me realise there is a vast world out there, much bigger and complicated and cultured than Melbourne could ever give me.

The following year I ventured to the UK. In all honesty I hated London. It was this crowded, cramped and chaotic city which for three very long days I trotted around in. I really had no intentions to return. But as fate would have it, I did. At a time when I'd lost hope in a lot of different things a few years later, I made a selfish choice to take advantage of an opportunity that presented itself, I would go to London for five month, a city I did not have fond memories of. Indeed fate would step in again just a few months later, extending that stay from five to fourteen months and create a love affair unlike anything I had expected.

What I always find so challenging about London is showing it to people. I've done it a fair few times now, both in my volunteer life and that as a resident. Its a city that has so much to offer in so many varied fields, interests and even histories. When I ask what people want to see, they'll often say to me that I should show them what I think they need to see. And its here I always end up at a loss, not because there is nothing to show nor nothing to see, indeed far from, rather because we'd look at things from two very different viewpoints.

In my time in this magnificent city during those 14 months as a volunteer it was my viewpoint which changed and what bought about the love and affection I now hold. I stopped looking at London as a tourist and started to see it the way the people who live here see it. Most Londoners will avoid tourist traps with great skill and care. In a city of over a million people, the last thing you want to do is be in the thick of it all. And as time passed, I began to see past the crowd pullers and begin a rather delightful dance with the hidden corners and back streets. I found the life and pulse and vibe which had been calling me for some years. I suddenly felt I belonged. I'd found my people. I'd found a place where pretty much anything goes and where expectation can be as much or as little as you choose it to be.

Upon my return to Melbourne, I was lost. Not only had I changed as a person, but I had seen a bigger picture. I felt grander things and shared experiences that altered who I was and what I wanted. I realised that I'd distinguished that subtle difference -Melbourne was my House, yet somehow London had become my Home. As my life story continues, I followed that feeling and came home.

Like life everywhere, it can be trying. And like I said earlier, every once in a while I need reminding as to why it is I am here. Why I chose to come here. Again, personal life aside. What drove me here was not a legal right to remain, nor the ability to make my lifestyle choices more freely, rather its that sense of belonging. Of feeling like you fit in somewhere in this huge jigsaw of pieces which are completely different to each other. Most of the time I'm aware of when I need that reminder. But every once in a while it catches me off guard and it's not until I'm in the midst of that life or vibe or culture that I realise that yes, this is it. This is the essence of what it is I was searching for. This city feeds my imagination, allows for creativity and expression. Escapism as well as the ability to firmly ground you in what is going on in reality.

And what prompted this confession? Why it's simple. I simply got off the bus much earlier than I'd planned to. You see, I was up in Central London yesterday and homeward bound I was taking the 24 to Victoria to get my train. It was mid-late afternoon. The sun was out, there were a lot of people around and I was on the lower level of the bus, zoned out in my thoughts created by the music flowing from my iPod. The bus pulled up at the intersection of Shaftsbury Avenue and Charing Cross Road and I promptly got off. I'll be honest, I have no idea why! The bus pulled away and as I turned around, I noticed a large crowd had gathered out the front of the Palace Theatre (currently home to the West End version of Priscilla Queen of the Desert) and a rather loud band. Now in this city its normal to find a busker with an instrument. Perhaps a chair, an amp and a microphone. At the most. But as I crossed the road I came to realise not only were there amps and mics, but two electric guitars and a drum kit. I was looking at a complete band.

I stood there for close to 20 minutes listening to a group I'm going to dub the 'Jammers of the Desert' simply because even they admit they weren't a band as such, just some friends who liked to jam together. That said, they were awesome. Had I been the sort of person who knew someone who knew someone, I'd have been in there getting them a gig somewhere. They were really that good. And so I stood, amongst at least 100 people in the growing shadow of a giant stiletto, soaking up all of the things I love most about this city. Its life. It's pulse. Its rhythm. Its promise. Its spontaneity. Chances are they'd have been in a bit of trouble for busking where they were, but I'd also imagine the crowd would have booed a heck of a lot should anyone try stop them playing! Its was just so brilliantly alive.

Afterwards, I walked along with a spring in my step. Its so very hard to show someone that feeling. Its hard to show them atmosphere in places they don't expect to see. I stand firm by the notion that London is a city you have to live in to appreciate it for what it's truly about. Indeed I was not presented with an answer as to what I can show people, because that's the beauty of this place. There is something for everyone, no matter what it is they want to see or experience. Sure, I can lead you to Big Ben, through Trafalgar Square, take you to the theatre, see Buckingham Palace, ride the Tube . . . but I cannot show you My London, because thats the point. It's My London, its what makes London home for me, something that only I can appreciate. Its that feeling of belonging.

In saying that, if you're in the neighbourhood, do drop me a line, I'll be happy to show you around, but be prepared to tell me what you want to see otherwise we could end up anywhere :-)

Croydonia

The weather at times has become mild enough to have my windows open once again. After pretty much three months of not being open (okay on occasion I did because the stuff air was getting to me and those of you who know me, it doesn't take much . . .) it's made a rather nice change. I've taken to opening the window when I get up in the morning and having it open of an evening when I get home for a bit too.

This morning I was sitting having my breakfast of Rice Crispies (Rice Bubbles damn it!) and cup of coffee and listening to the silence that is Croydon on a Saturday morning. By comparison to a weekday, it can sometimes be startlingly quite. Anyways, in the distance I heard the clocktower strike 8am. And it was like suddenly the world woke up. I could hear car horns, trains and police sirens start up. As if 8am marked the wake up call, and then the world was noisy. I came to realise that it's one of the small, yet remarkable things about the routine of daily life.

Like the Scary Scary Man. Each evening as I make my dinner or wash my dishes or whatever I might be doing in the kitchen when the time comes, he arrives home. At first I thought it was a once off and didn't notice it for a bit. But anticipating his return each evening, I've started to make note of it a little more. This evening the scene played out like it has been. Now I know it sounds odd and no I don't sit by the window and stalk people (cue Rear Window here). But I do notice things. He seems to be an older man. At first I noticed his OCD actions. He closes the drivers door twice. Locks and pulls on the handle three times. He then walks around to the passenger door, opens that, takes out his bag, closes the door, locks it and pulls on the handle six times. All the while muttering away to himself. In recent evenings of seeing this behaviour, I've been able to make out his words. And the whole time all he says is 'Its a scary fucking world, scary, scary, scary' and on occasion there are variations to it, but that's pretty much said a number of times.

And so I wonder what his story is. I wonder if he has a mental disability. Then I've also wondered if maybe its a front. He is kinda worried about his safety, and as a precautionary measure he puts on the mad man front in case any one decides to jump him. All things considered and remembering the stories I heard about Croydon just prior to, and shortly after moving here, its not entirely a bad course of action to take.

Then I wondered about the woman I see most nights walking home. She's got to be about 70 odd and has a very hunched back and wears a bright orange reflector vest. And yet, every time I see her, she's jogging. The woman has probably been doing it for years. So I wonder what her story is. Much like the (I can only assume) homeless who sleep outside Alders. They never bother you, don't ask for money in fact barely even notice you walk past. They're just there. Sometimes sleeping, sometimes sitting against the doors and even on nicer evenings sitting out on the metal seats. Like the other two I've mentioned, I wonder about their story.

Croydon really isn't made up of mad people, elderly runners or homeless. I mean come on, I live here! What I was trying to get to was that like most places, it has its characters. These people have always been there, yet it's only recently I've really started to notice them and I'm not entirely sure why that is. I notice the Reggae Man much more walking along the High Street. The man who walked his mini Schnauzer. During the lunchtime there's the woman in the bonnet preaching about God and the Bible. And the apparently Native American Indian who plays traditional music, sells traditional items and dresses rather traditionally. Or so you can only assume. Though I suppose most people in Croydon wouldn't know or care if it was traditional or not.

Its kind of reassuring to see those people. I'm sure you all know what I am talking about. You'll be able to name at least one person you see on a regular basis. You may not know them, their name, nor their story, but somehow they feature in yours, even if only in passing. In my quest of looking for a new job, people have asked if I would move away from Croydon. While practically speaking its an easy commute to London and Brighton, the reality of it is that Croydon has grown on me. As yet I'm to find the scary things which people talked about. True, I know of places that I'd not dare walk around in after dark, but again that can apply to most places. People are friendly, occasionally insane, but even then are still friendly and even sometimes polite. There seems to be all walks of life here. A variety of ways to dress and walk and talk and be. I like Croydon. I'm looking forward to a full summer here. I look forward to all the things which go on and believe me, it's a happening place at times!

Drive

And that pretty much sums it up really. That's what I want to do. Drive. I just have this crazily overwhelming urge to get into my little car, toss in a good CD and head out for a grand old Sunday drive, out across the Westgate, watching the sun dance on the surface of Port Phillip Bay. Seeing the glass bouce sunlight off windows, try not to run over a cyclist heading through Brighton. Or maybe I'd head West, out into no where. Or maybe a little North, out through Whittlesea, the hills and mountains leading out to Flowerdale and beyond. The problem? That's not my life anymore!

Homesick? Not sure. Maybe a little. But not in the way most assume I would be by this point. I honestly cannot tell you the physical ache I have not to be able to just climb into my car and go. We have so many memories together! And so many miles together! I guess it's just the weather today, it reminds me of a good day to drive. Maybe it's because I just don't have that release any more. I often found the best way to sort out my thoughts was to just get out of the house and go. I remember once I went out to get some yoghurt and came back six hours later, no yoghurt. Its strange, I don't really miss my former life. I mean I miss parts of it, don't get me wrong, and I miss people too. But not enough that it holds me back. I just, I guess I have moments that seem like an out of body experience where I can imagine and feel what it was to be in a certain place.

I feel a little bit in limbo at the moment. Like I'm stuck between what was and what is to become. Which is indeed a new feeling. Makes a nice change from everything feeling just hopeless and horrible and just the routine of life. It feels like standing on the egde of the Grand Canyon. That's it, thats the feeling I have. Just like there is big expanse of open air in front of me, this gaping hole so beautiful, yet so scary. Good grief what was in my cereal this morning?!

Time to Think

Around the world this weekend there are a lot of celebrations going on. Yes, it's that time of year again, it's Thinking Day. To all the non Guide people out there it really means nothing, but for those of us involved, not only is it like any other Thinking Day, it's thinking day 100 years on. Big, right? I have to admit to being somewhat disheartened that on this be celebratory weekend I'm curled up on the couch/bed with piles of snotty tissues (ah such a glamourous image!) feeling incredibly sorry for myself. I really hate the sick season!

In saying that however, I have caught myself at various times today thinking a lot. I think the whole disheartened thing was a large theme running through a lot of it. Thus far 2010 has been pretty sucky, with some news all unofficial like, which makes it crappier still.

I had to go through some photos today. Well, it was a three fold project really, two I've been meaning to do for some time now, one came to me today. I guess what I found in the photos was a lot of promise. A lot of happiness. A whole bunch of snap shots from a period of about 5 years of my life when I can honestly say there was a lot going on all for good reason. Now, not so much.

See, its nearing on 12 months since my arrival in the UK. And I really don't feel like I have achieved a whole lot. Don't get me wrong, I'm not ready to pack my bags and return to Australia, rather far from. And I also want to note that I never expected that 12 months on life would be perfect and peachy keen. Because in reality I knew that was never going to happen. I know a process like this takes time. Hell, I'm sure that 12 months from now there is a possibility I could still feel the same way. I guess, I dunno, I guess I've gone back to losing sight of what I wanted.

Even then that's really a lie. I've never been a person who has my life mapped out. Like most kids, I wanted to be a such and such when I grew up. But nothing ever really stuck. Going into high school I didn't really know then either what I wanted to do. I started to have a panic attack in my VCE years because the co-ordinators were piling on the pressure to make choices about a future I wasn't even sure of yet. So I finished high school and went into the work force, still not knowing what I wanted to do when I was a grown up, despite having all ready entered that world. Still, to this day, I really don't know what I want to be. I suppose that's consistency for you! I guess I worry a bit that I'll just let the years pass me by never having achieved anything.

And again, that's a lie. Because I know in my heart of hearts I've all ready done far more than most people ever will. But I've gone back to feeling like I don't have a purpose, like something is missing. In August of last year I had a faith crisis. And a few times since then it's raised its head again. So maybe what I am feeling is once again another faith crisis, I don't know. But what struck me today as I was thinking and looking at photos, is that I really have, in some ways, become quite idle. And I'll be honest, I hate that.

People dream of the right job. For me, I've not a clue what that would be. Surely I can't be the only person out there who feels this way? And not that I am having an age crisis or anything, because I am not as I know so much can happen and change in a short period of time. But in just over four years, I'll be 30. I used to know people who had their life to 25 planned, they knew where they wanted to be. Frankly, that scared the crap out of me. Why must I limit myself to what I only think should happen? That totally rules out anything that could happen. However, I'm now over half way in my 25th year, past that age where the plans stopped. And yet, I'm still just bopping along. Drifting.

Its funny. That was the title of my NaNoWriMo entry last year. A part of it came from this feeling I was having at the time. However, as with most writers minds, my imagination took over and it became much larger than a feeling and far more dramatic. I am telling you, somehow I missed my calling for Hollywood. But the bare fact remains that I very much had that theme in common with my main character. That feeling of simply drifting. Driving along an endless road until eventually you run out of road to drive on.

So, I hear you ask, what about Erin? Its funny, my relationship with her was something completely out of the blue. When I initially left for Pax in June of 05 just shy of my 21st birthday, people swore blind I was going to find myself a 'Lovely English Chap' and come home married. Or close enough. Imagine the surprise when a) that hadn't happened and b) actually I've met a woman. . . in saying that, I wouldn't change a thing. Erin has been the one constant feeling (despite the bumpy road it's been) that has kept me sane. That in many ways has kept me alive and helped me to become who I am today. In saying that though, I look at her sometimes and envy her. And in fact, many people in her life. Because they all went and did what they wanted to do. Or are working on it.

I guess what I need right now is some assurance that I'm not the only person in the world who feels this way. So please, if its you, or you know someone, get them to drop me a line!! To a degree I do have a little faith, I have faith in the belief that one day yes, I will wake up and know exactly what I am going to do with the rest of my life. But until then, I can't help but feel like I've missed something.

So anyways, Happy Thinking day everyone!!

Wide Open

The final words of my last blog, the round up of 2009, seem to haunt me in the echos of my quiet flat. Indeed the start of 2010 came along and blew the doors of life wide open, far wider than I thought was still possible. Life is curious in that way. Just when you think the worst is over and that you've almost reached the goal, the aim, the end of it all, a curve ball appears from left field and you're sort of left standing there stunned. Wordless. As if woken from a dream that was both vivid and distant all at the same time.

Every once in a while, other words haunt me. Some which I have said, some which others have said. Combined, it does make me worry somewhat just how much more is going to be pushed and thrown not only at me, but my loved ones as well. I mean, surely there must be an emotional endurance level when once hit, that's it. You get an easy ride. Okay I can hear some of you now practically yelling at me that it doesn't really work that way. Logically I know this. But you can't blame a person for hoping now, can you?

A month and a half into 2010 and I find myself standing out on a limb. Stripped bare. Metaphorically speaking I feel naked, standing in the middle of Trafalgar Square on a hot summers day, the world looking at me as though they can feel and hear and be privy to everything I am thinking, feeling and experiencing. You know me, I am a somewhat private person which is somewhat laughable when you consider I write those very words in an online blog and spend way too much time on Facebook. I guess I mean more by way of emotions. I'll gladly tell people that I am fine when in reality it's likely I am not. Its a rare few that can actually get past that and find what is making me sad or angry or any number of other emotions I seem to go through on an hourly, daily or weekly basis.

Sarah, the wisest of my therapists (why yes, shock horror I've had not only one, but three) once said that while writing a journal is a great tool for personal benefit, it can also be a harmful measure for a person who remains a great deal closed off from those who care most about them. The idea behind a journal is to write the continuance of thoughts which a person feels they cannot verbally say. But when thoughts aren't even started to be spoken of in the first place, therein lies the problem. I guess that was partly the reason why I started my blog in the first place. It was a step towards leaving the journal pages less filled. True, I still have the option of choosing what it is I reveal to the world, however it's progress.

So, the point of this? In the 46 days that has been 2010 so far I've experienced an array of emotions at a far greater level of intensity than I ever have before. I've struggled. Some of you I have talked to about this, others I have not. Those who know me best know not to take it personally if I haven't, because it really isn't intended that way. Old habits die hard and I spent so long not telling anyone anything, that every once in a while I slip back into that routine.

There are a wide variety of issues for me at the moment. The most prominent, and most obvious, was Erin's arrival and very sudden and unexpected departure in January through no fault of her own. In the 10 hours I paced the arrivals hall of Gatwick Airport I was faced with a very real possibility that I might not even get to see her. In fact I was so convinced they were going to deport her immediately that when I was eventually told they were going to grant her temporary entrance into the country, I was somewhat shocked and a bit unsure of what to do with myself.

However, what stays with me most from those hours was the sheer physical pain as to what I was feeling. It hurt. I really felt like I was dying inside, like a part of me had been violently ripped away and I was never going to get it back. Now, I'm not a person to take things for granted. I've learnt to appreciate and hold onto the simple things in life. But what I discovered was that I was taking for granted that everything was going to be okay. That my Happily Ever After was about to happen and nothing could get in the way of that. I took for granted that I love Erin. And I do, don't get me wrong, but it was almost like that entire experience made me realise just how much I actually do love her. How much I rely on her company and care and love and warmth. To be suddenly faced with having that taken away, it took the wind out of me. It crippled my spirit. It rendered me alone and isolated like a lighthouse on the coast.

Many, many people have asked me how I am doing. What I am feeling and how I am coping. For the most part I've shrugged this off and said I am fine. There are several close friends I've not even discussed how I feel with and to be honest, I don't know why. I guess I just didn't want to feel those things any more. Despite the crowds coming and going in the arrivals hall, I dealt with what felt like the most traumatic emotions of my life thus far, alone. Part of me really doesn't want to feel that again. But a part of me knows that it's important to feel them and to release them and to let others feel some of it too.

So while I won't declare to the world here every thought and fear and emotion I have or feel, I can at least make a start and perhaps make sure that some of you don't allow me to get away with simply saying I'm fine. Because the fact of that matter is, no one really pushes. They just take the fine at face value. Ultimately if I don't want to talk about something, I can come right out and say so. But until I do, I often just need a little nudge in the right direction.

In saying that, I don't expect to be interrogated the next time I see or speak to you!! I guess I was more just wanting to say sorry to anyone who may feel a bit hurt by my not being open and sharing. I am feeling a great deal of things and being the control freak I am (come on people, lets be honest here!) I don't know how to cope and as a result of that, I don't want to lose control of the front which most people see as me coping. I think to a degree we all feel like that at times.

Thus, to answer the ever asked question: I'm good, all things considered :-)

Now, I do believe the kettle is whistling to me and two wonderful men by the name of Ben & Jerry are calling to me. Time to curl up on the couch and do some DVD viewing before facing yet another week in the world.

Good Night All.