This may be the last opportunity I have for a while to write and post to my blog, as I'm going on holiday. Or at least, that's the idea. It's down to the architect that I can go anywhere at all, but I fear my idea of a holiday really does differ with his so much, and, more importantly, his sensitivity and insecurity about that fact is so acute, that I wonder if we'll both emerge at the end of the week still together. On the one hand, we need each other really, so it would take a lot to push us apart, but on the other hand, we've both been through hell in our own ways and need some of our 'default comforts' to get us through.
My default comforts can take the form of any of the following:
1) Reading magazines, newspapers and books that have intriguing things to say, or artistic and creative views on life.
2) Dressing up (which I don't have the time to do as eccentrically as I'd like to most of the time) including wearing stupidly high heels (I WANT to wear my $9 shoes from Delancey in Manhattan, goddammit!) or ridiculous colours of nail polish or provocative lipstick (or just bright pink lipstick when I'm wearing all black, just to scare people off) and strange belts, bags or jackets. Most of which I won't be able to indulge in on this kind of holiday. (We're supposed to be climbing up mountains for god's sake...)
3) Singing or playing the piano (well, not so much piano, as keyboard these days of course. Days since I last played a real piano: 303) and that's certainly not possible on this kind of holiday. Unless I start singing 'this torturous existence, examine my persistence...' while walking up a mountain.
4) Watching silly comedy programmes, or comedy or action films, or better still, those films that combine the two, such as 'Bad Company'. (But I'm quite partial to thrillers and the occasional hard-hitting drama too.)
5) Going out for a good but simple meal with a glass of red wine (or two) to wash it down with. Or even staying in and eating the same in front of the above mentioned kind of home entertainment.
6) Staying in bed till late and having croissants for breakfast and a newspaper by my side.
It strikes me that some of these things are rather anti-social, so I will simply have to try and fit them in to my time when I return and have to slowly ease myself back into proper work again. So I will do my usual trick of probably annoying the architect by dressing up too much (but I feel certain he secretly likes it, it's just it makes him uncomfortable that I look like I belong at an artists and musicians' dinner party, not in a mountain town in the south of the Czech Republic.) But I keep reminding him, "No, I don't belong ANYWHERE. That's the point." I never have, and I think I'm old enough to know now, I never will.
Oh, and I am saddened to read that Peter Falk has died. Watching re-runs of Columbo was another 'default comfort' of mine when I was back in Blighty. I even read his book, a sort of memoir with his own illustrations. Fascinating man. It's just so horrid that he got struck down with the evil Alzheimer's. He just seemed to be one of those incredibly sweet, avuncular types who is not only kind, but very intelligent.
So anyway, I must gather my things into some bags and head off into the day hoping the architect and I can find some reasonable compromise for both of us about what to do with our time. I'm running out of time now and I really want to be a little more organised today than I was yesterday. Yesterday seems too complicated and stressful to even go into now.
A brief summary would be:
Repulsive meet-ee continues to be arrogant to the point of hilarity, other meet-ees all later attest to my being the best at the job they'd ever had. Then printer ink runs out, traipse across town for replacement cartridge, come back with only possible available ink cartridges, only to find that despite filing the damned thing down, convinced that would foil the scam of overpriced replacement cartridges, even when it physically fits, the printer says, "no". 30 quid down the drain. Then end of evening round-up and appraisal of work with boss at institution I've now left. Managed to be convincing enough, despite gaps in quality of work at times, which I feel were in accordance with lack of adequate appreciation and indeed, salary. All conducted under absolutely necessary influence of small glass of wine and garlic-tastic salad. (I did try to lean back away from her as I talked...) Culminating in accounting skills of admin girl inadvertently giving me a small pay rise. Decided not to alert her to that fact. End of evening splendid chat with the Faerie godmother trainee (who, incidentally is responsible for the fact that I can now post photos again) and subsequent chat with a very ill sounding architect, who revealed we would indeed be staying in a hotel tonight.
Right, that's it. I'm off. Onwards and upwards....
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