poetry, shopping and jobs

'I'll be there as soon as I can, but I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before' - Muse, Unintended

Margaret Atwood writes poetry. Why did I not know this before? Actually, I did know because I know this poem, but my goldfish attention span and incredibly poor memory let me down. What caused this memory loss? Prozac? Or was I a crack addict somewhere in my previous life?

Anyway, this is one of my new favourites:

Is/Not

Love is not a profession
genteel or otherwise

sex is not dentistry
the slick filling of aches and cavities

you are not my doctor
you are not my cure,

nobody has that
power, you are merely a fellow/traveller

Give up this medical concern,
buttoned, attentive,

permit yourself anger
and permit me mine

which needs neither
your approval nor your surprise

which does not need to be made legal
which is not against a disease

but against you,
which does not need to be understood

or washed or cauterized,
which needs instead

to be said and said.
Permit me the present tense.

--- Margaret Atwood, Is/Not

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Other, less ethereal activities than reading poetry yesterday included job interviews and playing dress-up..

I am moderately excited about one of the interviews, maybe even going so far as to say 'hopetimistic'! It's working as a PA for a director, one on one in a great environment. Pretty much everything I want in a job, except the hours, but everyone has to work, right?

The playing dress-up? The Biba boutique inside the V&D dept store has the best saleslady I think I've ever met. She's Bosnian and probably a little bit older than me. I first visited the store in December sometime and we got talking and had an immediate connection. She thought I was Eastern European at first. I don't look Dutch, just different really. Plus when I speak there's my accented Dutch. So we talked a whole lot about how we came to Holland etc, about how it feels to be a foreigner. There was a sale on then so I just stood in the change room and she brought armfuls of clothes for me to try on.

Yesterday I went in for a new coat, and tried pretty much the entire spring collection. Favourites were a white PVC-ish tight-waisted jacket with a tied waist, and layered underneath a sort of frilly orange printed blouse and a gorgeous gold-beige beaded blouse that falls from just under the breasts. Slinky! Alas, I need an income in line with my Biba addiction.

It was fun to try everything on, see what works, what doesn't. In comparison the Benetton top and shirts I tried were just... blah. I guess I really do like Biba.

I have to admit to really liking the saleslady though. Do you have a store that you go to just because you like the staff? Every single thing I do in terms of shopping is based on whether or not I like the staff in the shop. My car, flowers, bakery, butchery, clothing, hairdresser, gym, even the supermarket I go to is chosen because I like the staff.

In Amsterdam I popped into Cora Kemperman and Noon on the Leidsestraat. I found a new label in Noon that I really like, called Tiger, except I can't find it on the Internet? Anyone know it?

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Oh, I was happy, neutral, slightly sad (4%) and angry, according to Glad or Sad. Thanks for voting for my picture. Just wondering where the angry came from? I mean, I am, but jesus - it shows that much?

This week I am actually happy. Not too obsessive, not freaked out, not gnashing my teeth about my future. Even a little bit contented. Yes, really! That means I haven't written anything because when I'm not in a deep pit of despair I don't write.

In 'We Need to Talk About Kevin' Lionel Shriver said something about how we dig ourselves into a hole a teaspoon at a time. So maybe I've been digging myself out a teaspoon at a time.

And then I read that maybe all that Prozac really did nothing for me after all?

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Christine Kane is writing this week about the Law of Attraction and I finally get it. I get it I get it I get it.

Let's take an example. I am a good person to know because there is always a parking space free for me, (ok, so that's just one reason it's good to know me). But there is always a parking spot for me. Always.

So I'm all 'yeah, the universe loves me because it gives me a parking space right in front of where I need to be, every single time.' Then I congratulate myself on attracting good things (like parking spaces) but I sort of forgot that I'm also attracting bad shit (like when I broke the bumper on my car).

No more part time belief in the law of attraction for me.

I am the centre of my own universe.

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Going to Zandvoort later with S and her kids and will break the no-kids-pics-on-the-blog rule tomorrow. Just this once.