The choice that wasn't

I just re-read a bit of one of my posts and had to correct a really stupid spelling mistake.  I had written, 'a line or too', when I of course meant, 'a line or two'.  There I was, feeling pleased that even if my content is boring, it's at least well written and a high standard of English, but no.

I am writing this on the eve of a trip on the cowboy's new motorbike to stay in his flat 'in the mountains' (or rather, in that tiny town near the mountains - believe me, if you live in the Czech Republic for a couple of years, you get sick to death of hearing the expression, "in the mountains") and celebrate his birthday.  I'm quite pleased with myself for the presents I've managed to get him, including one or two extra special surprises, so I hope he'll be pleased.  

He helped me by taking some boxes of things last night, in anticipation of the big move.  Having seen places that have only made my heart sink, and nothing else coming up that's a good fit for me and my bank balance, I think by default I've decided I have to move in with him.  Some could argue this is a choice, but I still feel the "choice" between spending money I don't have to move back to stay with family in a small town in the UK or spending money I also don't have to move in with family in the US versus staying here and spending no money isn't so much a "choice" as a realisation that this is what my budget will allow and that's that.

As A A Milne so delightfully put it, when it comes to my money in my bank account and my so-called 'choice' about where to live, "the more [she] looked, the more [it] wasn't there."

Thirty-five

A little hint of fun, the soft scent of sadness, 

A little quiet, some predictable madness.

A soft and small world, a kind of open prison

A tentative optimism, a certain careful decision.

Red roses already, ensures no disappointment,

A great self-reliance, no expected appointments.

A beautiful vase, a selection of accessories,

A surprise leather notebook, no further necessities.

First words in the morning from new partner's own lips

First text in the morning, from ex-partner's fingertips.

A top on its way - a new friend's gift

Something difficult to say - a new family rift.

A late night silence, a fresh kettle boiled

A new headphone appliance, a music-lover spoiled.

A Sesame Street book- an old birthday present,

An old Barry White hook, a sad birthday lessened.

A trick of the light or a fantasy blurred?

A Mexican night, but tummyache stirred.

A few margaritas, a sleepiness found,

An old señorita, to her ,,cama" bound....

The brunette strikes back

I tried to write on Monday, but got nowhere, as I ran out of time after my meetings and aerobics and other sources of duty or tedium.  Then I had Tuesday, a day with no meetings except for an appointment with the hairdresser, and then an appointment in the evening with a friend to go and watch a Czech film in the local art-house cinema.

I actually had a delightful morning and realised what a difference a day-off makes.  Anyway, by the afternoon, I had just enough time to stop for a spontaneous coffee in the downtown department store, known as 'My,' though it's pretty much a big Tesco-owned Debenhams-wannabe, and I wrote this:

09/08/11

Maybe it's fitting that I watched SATC The Film, dubbed into Czech yesterday, the day before dyeing my hair back to its natural colour.  It was also was my Mum's birthday and today I look more like her than I did before.  It's really rather strange.  A lot of 'coming full circle's going on.  In addition to this, I came back to writing music and now I'm back in the department store I used to come to quite a lot when I first moved here and still had enough money to buy things now and then to cheer myself up.

Except I'm here today to buy the architect a birthday present.  I've already got him a few things, but I need a 'crème de la crème' present to round everything else off with.  (Though secretly I'm hoping that the fact that I've had my hair cut and dyed a glossy dark brown will be its own 'crème de la crème' kind of present.)

Most of all, even though I'm hardly a huge success here, I feel I can permit myself to say, "you've done ok, kid".  I mean, I haven't earned pots of money (nobody ever got rich by helping people, I suppose) but I've made ends meet, I've embarked on a new relationship, despite the fact that it may only serve to save us both from despair in the short term, and I've managed to learn enough Czech to survive and even do well going to a local hairdresser's where they don't speak a word of English.  I had no photo with me, just a few vocab notes and I explained how I wanted my hair dyed and cut.  I defy anyone to manage as much, after losing both the relationship they were in for well over 10 years, and having to call it quits with a career path that came to an end at the same time the relationship did.  I may not be free of the pain of that loss, but I have at least progressed to new and different shores, and though my home may now be a landlocked country, I can still sing of the sea.

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So now I'm a proper brunette again, it was back to work as usual today.  (6am wake up call and knuckling down to work by 7.40) I am shattered as a result, seeing as I didn't finish till 8.45 this evening.  Ach jo.  To je život.  Můj život.  I have been hanging on for dear life and now it looks like the architect wants me to stay over at his brother's at the weekend.  Not much warning, but I guess it's good that I've got two Czech lessons this week as well as having extra practice on Tuesday evening.  (The film I saw with my friend was weird but the music was good, though wholly anachronistic.)  I just don't know if I'll feel free to just communicate as best I can, or whether I'll end up silencing myself, for fear of all the horrid case ending mistakes I'm unable to avoid making flooding out in a wave of horribly unbearable pigeon-sounding Czech.  

On the one hand, a foreigner (especially an English one) speaking any Czech at all here is some kind of revelation, but on the other, Czechs are therefore not exactly accustomed to hearing their language mangled by someone who not only gets case endings wrong but sometimes chooses imperfective verbs instead of the necessary perfective alternative.  And don't even get me started on the effort involved in trying to remember what's correct Czech, and what's 'Prague' Czech.  Worse still, the architect swears like a trouper at times, so the phrases I've learnt most readily are all the slang, Prague-colloquial, possibly really rather offensive, ones.

God help me.  I must be speaking the equivalent of something like, "That bloody cow was such a bitch!" instead of, "she was most unkind towards me", with the added problem that it has wrong endings all over the place.  Which I can't really come up with an equivalent of, because it doesn't exist in English, but maybe it sounds as bad as, "that cow, she not been liking me lately", or something equally awful.  I need nerves of steel to survive a weekend with 'family' surely?  Why has no-one given me adequate training for this?!

On the up side (and there really is one, "hurrah!", but it's totally unrelated) the flower that came with the chocolates I got from a meet-ee last Friday has nearly lasted a week!  Here's what it looked like upon first delivery:

And here's a more recent pic, after it had opened up to say hello to what fleeting sunshine we had a day or two later:

And with that, I must bid you goodnight and attempt to get at least some beauty sleep.  New hairstyle or not, I certainly need it.

Hairdressers, phones and shoes

So this is the first long absence from writing and I'm feeling suitably ashamed about that.  But it was my birthday (the first to get through since ex-partner got settled into his new life) and I knew I had to make an effort to socialise and not be a miserable old so and so.  

First necessity: sort out getting my hair dyed again.  Not an easy task in a foreign language.  In fact, I used to dread every feeble attempt I made at getting a decent set of highlights and cut for a reduced price, i.e. one I could actually afford, because most turned out less than desirable, though one had actually been the best ever and that was totally free!  But no such luck here.

I bravely explained what I wanted with photos and my pre-looked up vocabulary, but even then, hairdressers always end up doing what they're used to and it really wasn't a terribly successful result.  I had an insane hope for the best when 'West End Girls' came on the radio, but about 30 minutes later it was Erasure (I think) singing "run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away".  Not good.

Time to be ever so mature about things, as usual, and try not to burst into tears that I really don't have the confidence left to deal with another disappointment, but rather find another way to look at it.  So I decided to embrace the hispanic ghetto look and curled my hair and put on the ole' hoop earrings and dark lipstick.  Not terribly sophisticated, but on a salary like mine, maybe sophisticated is long gone and I should stop trying to cling to the champagne packaging that tried to help me feel otherwise.  (By god, I don't know what I'd do without the Faerie Godmother Trainee...) 

And one of my 'meet-ees' remarked that I looked 'beautiful'.  A linguistic error, but a rather nice compliment nonetheless.  And even though strange and unfathomable things befell me (mobile phone dropped on ground, switched off, naturally wants PIN number to reactivate, but PIN number is at home in a drawer, long trip home to get PIN number just to ring friend number 2 of the evening to find out where she is because her number was stored in my phone not in my brain...ach jo...) it turned out  kind of fun.

I ended up seeing in the beginnings of my birthday with Czech friends and Czech pop songs that I'd never heard before but could start singing along to almost immediately due to how catchy they were.  Then, home by 3am.  Then sleep.

There followed a box of chocolates, champagne and beautiful shoes!!!!  See below.

The evening of my birthday comprised a good Mexican meal with a glass and a half of red wine and some fine company.  For a birthday expected to be lonely and sad, I think I did pretty well actually.