On a Wing(er) and a prayer.

I read Debra Winger's book 'Undiscovered' today. Front to back, just let the words penetrate my mind, become what I tried so hard to say.
I didn't like Debra before and now she is so unrecognisable as the person I thought she was that I feel guilty, embarrassed by my ignorance of her. I almost let snap judgements rob me of a chance to understand all that she is. I will be forever grateful that I didn't.


'Disappointment is a misplaced hope. But bitterness will kill you.'


I could hardly breathe as I read the words. I felt each and every one stab my skin, tattooing themselves on my very being.
Bitterness will kill you. Its all I could do not to tear the page out and physically eat the paper.

Bitterness will kill you.
Words to live by. Perhaps something to consider today.

Needs job, wants direction

My only two moods.

Now

Baby Kenwood

I've been trying to write today. I've been unsuccessful. Everytime I go to type I get distracted and end up sitting in front of the telly with a bag of liquorice watching the last scene of 'The way we were' over and over and over, tears in my eyes, lips moving in time to the words that are now forever etched in my mind. ('You're girl is lovely Hubbell.' She sure is Katie, but she'll never be you.)

As much as I love that film, and believe me, I do love that film, I can't help but think that my time could be better spent. Its Sunday, I had no plans. I should be writing towards my future. My Dad's words from my childhood-'You're letting nobody down but yourself'-are swirling around my head. And I know they're right. Even my new espadrilles can't distract me from the gaping hole of unfulfilment that is slowly taking over the inside of my body. I swear soon I'll just be a voice without a body.

'Think of all I could have done' I'll be shouting to myself or at least to the empty area where myself used to be.

I read a quote in O Magazine yesterday. It was from an interview with 90s Rock/Pop Queen Sheryl Crow and she was talking about the adoption of her son.

'...When I let go of what I thought my life was supposed to look like, Wyatt found his way in.'

Whilst I'm happy that Sheryl had such a grand epiphany and her life is now everything she subconsciously knew it could be, I can't not wish that it was that easy for me. That I too could sit in my plush, eco-friendly house on the beach, paid for with 'All I wanna do is have some fun' money, rooting through Susan Jeffers and Dr Phil self help books and suddenly realising that once I let go of all my unrealistic expectations of my future, a child, who may or may not have a name that sounds suspiciously like an electrical appliance, will drop into my living room and we'll live happily ever after.
Of course in my case, baby Kenwood Food Processor would be a career in writing or film-making and not an actual baby (I dont know much about my future but I know a screaming baby does not feature.)

So please Katie/Hubbell/Oprah/Sheryl/Kenwood-send me a sign, let me know that the expectations (that I have now officially let go of!) are not merely dillusions.

Let there be light.

Things that make me feel safe.

I like to know that you know me.

I'm comforted by that fact.
It keeps me warm.

I can remember what you said.

I hope you feel better.
I feel fucking lousy.
My hair wont go right and I bet you're laughing right now
or drinking a coffee and thinking about how much
better.
you.
feel.

I think you should get fucking lost.

All the things I see, all the things I hope for.

I never knew what it felt like to want every moment between us to move faster than they do,
to want each now to be a now we experience together,
to feel that time apart is wasted time.

Moments without you make me wish I was even one step closer to where you are.

.....I never knew until you.

All I really wanted.

'If I fuck you I'll have to stay' he said whilst buttoning up the final button on his jeans and reaching for his jacket.
'And if I stay I may never leave.'
He zipped up his jacket and took a gulp from a glass of water on a cabinet next to a stack of old magazines.
'And if this cycle starts up again I may never get to see Paris.'

'I'm not ready to be a victim.'

Stay because you'd die without me.

'Why dont you want me to go?' you said.
I stumbled for words, trying hard to find what it was I needed to say.
'I dont want you to go because I want you to stay' I said.
I was embarrassed by my lack of eloquence and I felt my cheeks flush.
I hoped you'd look passed my inability to explain what I felt and understand what it was I wanted you to hear.
You did your shoelaces up and sat back on the sofa. I signed a cheque for the bank and took a bite of my sandwich.
Life seemed uncertain then.