Safe From Harm

It's another dull, cloudy day and I feel like the weather is doing this on purpose, or ,,schválně", as they say here, just to dull my mind.  (As if the hormones and period pain were not doing that perfectly well already.)  No, I will not be sedated.  I will push through the threateningly tedious work that awaits me, still the anxiety that is bubbling within due to the date and fact that ex-partner decided today was a good day to get in touch, and listen to more Liz Phair if that's what it takes to get me through the day.  

I want to scream a pain-derived and gut-wrenching "f*** you!" to the forces that keep pushing me, through physical and emotional pain time and time again to the brink of my own demise and the edge of what is tolerable.  I don't understand why everything always has to be this much of a struggle.  But I'm so used to it, I almost forget that it isn't necessarily normal.  

I must try and remember the sentiment from L-Star, reminding me that in Finland this is a day for friendship.  ,,Přátelství", as we say here.  And I am grateful to those who are still out there, though distant and sometimes unavailable.  Thank you to the Faerie Godmother trainee for such delicious-looking chocolates (I haven't eaten one yet, but I know they'll be excellent) and to those who've remembered me lately.  I don't know where Madame C has got to, but I'm thinking of her.  And so too, the tea and cake friend who sent me such a lovely birthday card.  I'm missing all of them so much now.

But more mind-numbing slavery awaits today and I will have to brace myself.  Perhaps armed with a few songs to get me through.  The best one for today, in the state that I'm in, would probably have to be an old Massive Attack classic.  Just as I'm battling and thinking to myself, 'whatever happened to 'fun?', Massive Attack can sing to me, 'what happened to the niceties of my childhood days? Well I can't do nothing about that, no, no.  But if you hurt what's mine...I'll sure as hell retaliate."

God bless those people.  That was a damned good song.

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. 

10 Things To Get Me Through The Worst Week In January

It's already been a really teeth-pullingly tough week and it's only set to get harder.  A kind of 'searing earache and simultaneous bitterly-cold-blizzard' kind of harder.  So, to prepare myself, I thought I should make a list of things that have been and may continue to help me through:

1) The remaining chocolates from Christmas.

2) Sumptuous lavender bubble bath, shower gel and moisturiser.

3) The thought of Paris with the Faerie Godmother Trainee.

4) My 'bilingual' copy of 'The Michelin Man' by Gerald Durrell in Czech as well as the original English, which, ironically reminds me of trips to a little village in France called 'Herly'.

5) A rediscovered copy of 'When You Love You Must Depart' by Alina Reyes.

6) My Ab Fab DVDs.

7) My Anna Gavalda short stories book 'Je Voudrais Que Quelqu'un M'Attende Quelque Part' because the title and picture on the front express my current longing perfectly:

8) My naughty, budget-negating (or rather, failed 'Second-World-War-type-rationing-attempt', more like...) copy of American Elle magazine, because it's got such damned good writing in it.

9) This light tea that not only cheers me up with its Ceylon-style taste, but has a reassuringly elitist, 'intelligentsia' design and picture on the box:

10) Emails from kind people who are keeping in touch even though I no longer live in the same country as them.  It still seems strange that I can't meet up for tea and cake with these compassionate souls anymore, when once I could call up and plot to be at the corner of Westbourne Grove and Hereford Road for coffee at 6pm on a Wednesday.  (If anyone's free on Wednesday at 6pm near Václavské Náměstí though, I'm available for tea, coffee and any kind of cake, especially in one of those bookshop cafes...)