Life: December 2007 Archives

'Sometimes I believe in fate, but the chances we create, always seem to ring more true.' - Katie Melua, If You Were a Sailboat

'Resolutely, she stared at the blank screen.

She had stared at it for a day previously, ignored it in favour of the clamour of MSN, ignored it in favour of the flirting on facebook.

Ignored it in favour of downloading music from 7-digital. Ignored it in favour of cleaning up her inbox. Ignored Katie Melua saying it was all in her head.

She talked to Christian in Cologne about African colonial history. She talked to David in London about her childhood.

Her resolve failed.'

It's December 31st people.

What does everyone do en masse on the 31st? They resolve!

They go to the gym, they eat organic, eat no sugar, eat less, cook from scratch; they read more, they watch less tv, they make lists, they go to museums; they try to be better people, they lose their tempers less, they drink less, stop smoking, stop shouting at their kids, make love to their husbands & wives more, stop looking at porn, do their hair every day, wear makeup more often, stop biting their nails, picking their noses and complaining.

Until about January 7th, then they fail and they feel terrible and think 'why the fuck couldn't I do a, b, c, d and e?'

I'll tell you a secret: I've never actually made a New Year resolution before.

In almost 34 years.  So half way through my 30s seems a good place to start.

And here it is, following Christine Kane's wonderful motivational writing:

My word for 2008 is:

CHANGE!

I'll change my life. No more swept away. I'm the one holding the broom.
I'll change my body. No more bulimia & anorexia & exercise addiction. Health & strength and awesome abs.
I'll change my house. Cluttered & overloaded is so last year.
I'll change my future. Directionless no more.

Just one little word and look what it'll do.

What's your word?

--------------------

In 2008 I will be blogging every day with Blog365. I had an overwhelming desire to add my voice to the tidal wave of other people's thoughts, bad writing and self-involvement that overwhelms the internet.

I have one day off, that's February 29th. So if anyone wants my company, that's your lucky day. Applications here please.

'Where I can run just as fast as I can, to the middle of nowhere' - Pink, Just Like a Pill

Reading Post Secret on Sundays always makes me feel a little uncomfortable.

I first discovered Post Secret a couple of years ago and then all the secrets were online, not just a selection like there is now.

I read through them, and like everyone else who ever read Post Secret I was all wow'wed by how many of the secrets felt like they were mine.

That's the secret of Post Secret.

Everyone can find their own secret on Post Secret.

I have secrets. Am I sharing any?

Let's see. A big one? No.

A little one? Maybe.

But not today.

'It's not having what you want, It's wanting what you've got.' - Sheryl Crow, Soak up the Sun

Bzzzz! Over here!

We went to see The Bee Movie today.

I enjoyed it, mostly because it was just fun listening to Jerry Seinfeld again.

The plot has enormous holes though. Enormous ones. You could fit elephants in them.

Be prepared to have lots of mental spackle/wallfiller/polyfiller/glue/whatever you want to call it to allow you to leap from one plot segue to the next.

Some of the moments are cool though. The Bee Larry King skit is pretty awesome.

Funny thing though, a tear slipped down my cheek and disappeared into my t-shirt when the montage of how everything was going to be ok again to the Sheryl Crow song (in the youtube clip up there) came on at the end of the movie.

I guess I'm a sucker for happy endings after all.

'So Eleanor put those boots back on
Put the boots back on and run
Come, come on over here' - Franz Ferdinand, Eleanor, Put your Boots On - watch the clip, fab artwork!

Yes, I know that's a lame title up there, but I just had to had to had to say it.

Forgive me. Please?

A few weeks ago I went to a party in Amsterdam.

The theme was 'nothing says christmas like sushi & wine'. Guess who was a sushi virgin?

Well, not any more! Loved it, really loved it.

Came home, told the man-at-home about it constantly for a few weeks, then bought all the stuff and today we made our own badly-executed maki rolls.

I didn't even know that there was a Asian supplies store just around the corner from my house until my sushi epiphany.

If you need anything Indonesian/Japanese/Korean and you live in Amstelveen then Toko Kaya is there just for you. They speak great English and if you want to make anything just ask them and they'll find the ingredients for you.

So what did we put in our maki rolls?

Too much wasabi!  And there was no sake to take off the edge, and no wine either...

We used avocado, spring onion, mango, yellow pepper, carrot and sweet omelette.

No fish, because the salmon we bought was deemed unsuitable by the cat.

Did the kids eat it? Yes, they did!

Say hurrah for some all-round sushi approval in our home tonight.

'Think of all the fun I've missed, think of all the fellows that I haven't kissed, next year I could be just as good, if you check off my christmas list.' - Pussy Cat Dolls, Santa Baby (I really like this version).

Me: An Ipod dock so I can never have to change a cd again, and then nonsensically Fiction Plane, Leaf and The Killers cds (favourite song on this cd is Glamourous Indie Rock and Rock). Tell me why I didn't download?

Him: Guitar Hero Legends of Rock III: So he can pretend to be a guitar god.

Littlest One: A Playdoh clown thing which mama (that's me!) won't know where to put when he's done with it.

Biggest One: A K'nex rollercoastery thing and ditto above.

Forget peace, love and charity. It's all about the gifts! Isn't it?

'We'll run till we drop, baby we'll never go back.' - Bruce Springsteen, Born to Run. Suzi Quattro video.

I was just reading Tom Venuto's blogpost about holiday fitness and this phrase really struck home.

'Your expectations will become your reality. What are you expecting?'

He's talking about what we expect from ourselves with regard to sports. If you say 'oh it's Christmas, everyone gains weight'  then sure, you'll gain!

It's true for life too, not just for sports. What are you expecting?

Positive thinking and ruthless honesty get you where you're going.

Me, I've just been in the gym and I'll be there again on Boxing Day. I'm expecting to come out of the holidays fitter and leaner than when I went in.

I don't expect any less.

'And so this is Christmas and what have you done?' - John Lennon & Yoko Ono, Happy Christmas (War is Over) - watch the clip!

...the beautiful ice outside, a killer training session with my favourite trainer (who pushes me harder than anyone else and seems to know exactly which way to push me to get that last ounce of determination out), drinks at Nina and Chris which was fun fun fun...

I never used to drink, more out of fear than anything else I suppose, but fear is something best left far behind, don't you think? I took them some japanese snacky things and a very festive bottle of wine.

The name got me. Who doesn't like something called Luna di Luna? Doesn't it sound and look faaaaabulous? Of course, Chris and Nina & Milla are fabulous, which is why they got the bottle. 

It probably tastes a bit crappy, so no doubt it's the wine you open after the other eight bottles are empty... but it looks so pretty. See the pink one? Valentine's Day anyone? Sometimes image is everything ...

Today I'm planning my menu for Christmas Day, baking some sugar cookies* with the kids, going swimming at the gym, trying the new treadmills again. The gym has Technogym equipment but the old treadmills were old and they new ones are new and they are so smooth and they have MTV and TMF! 

The tv channels were limited on the old ones and TMF got kicked in favour of news. So this is the best Christmas present ever. I'm so in love.

Oh, you want the cookie recipe? It's from Nigella, who taught me how to lick a spoon lasciviously and with feeling ... but really a sugar cookie recipe is just a sugar cookie recipe.

Nigella's Cut-Out Sugar Cookies
Makes 30. Double the recipe.

For the cookies

90g butter, (don't shoot me, but I prefer margarine)
100g sugar
1 large egg
1/2 tsp imitation vanilla extract (yes, I know, it should be real vanilla extract, but what can I say, I grew up cheap)
200g plain flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt

For the icing

150g icing sugar
food colouring

1. Preheat the oven to 180C.
2. Cream butter and sugar together in the food processor until pale and fluffy.
3. Beat in the egg and vanilla.
4. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and pulse.
5. You could add some lemon zest to the cookie mixture, yum. Or some koek-en-speculaas kruiden, or some gingerbread spice. Whatever you want really. What not add wasabi? ;)
6. Form the dough into a ball and then press into a disc and leave it in the fridge, wrapped in clingwrap for about an hour.
7. Sprinkle surface with flour.
8. Get stepladder and stools for children. Try not to fall over stepladders, stools and children.
   
9. Roll out dough to about 1/2 cm thick and then allow children loose with cutters.
10. Bake on lined baking sheets for about 10 -12 minutes.They should be gold on the edges and a little soft still in the centre.
11. Take them off the baking paper and cool them on a rack.
12. When they're cooled mix the icing by adding about half a teaspoon of water at a time to the icing sugar. Colour as desired. Have m&m's, sprinkles, nonpareils, and all kinds of other decorative things handy.
13. Avoid fingerprints in the icing.
14. Allow to set and then give them to your friends and neighbours on Christmas Eve.
15. Get many many brownie points for being such an organised mother. Heh.

So what are you doing between now and Christmas Day?

I have a free day tomorrow with the kids in the daycare so I plan to do something completely different.

A museum, a day trip, a drive... something different and fun.

'and television is just some weak anaesthetic to numb the senses til you’re out like a light' - David Ford, I'm Alright Now

Today is a beautiful beautiful beautiful day. Sun, blue sky, glittering white trees.

It's -7C outside and the ice is everywhere, like a souvenir.
 

'It started out with a kiss how did it end up like this?' - Mr Brightside, The Killers.

I have a little habit.

Ok, it's a big habit. I'm a gym addict.

I go almost every day and skip very rarely.

I have a personal trainer. Everyone knows who I am. I get my coffee served to me as I walk into the cafe. You know how it is.

But here's the kicker. The fitness (cardio and weights) section of the gym is closed for the next three days.

It's CLOSED people.

I am going to DIE.

I went tonight for my appointment with my trainer. Actually, I went twice today. Once this afternoon for 45 minutes of running and then this evening for the 'let's make you know that you have abs and glutes' workout.

Also known as the 'let's make Ash do so much heavy exercise that her pants fall down' (yes, really).

Tomorrow it's closed!

I could sauna, sure.

I could do a class, sure.

The thing is, I like the solitary, yet comradely thing of working out on a treadmill in a room full of other people punishing themselves equally as hard.

I don't like classes. I have little coordination and I'm always going right while everyone else goes left.

Plus, I like to listen to my own very loud music on my own shiny little ipod. (Yes, you can click the links in the lyrics at the top of each entry, they're meant to be your soundtrack.)

Expect me to be grumpy.

Very.

'I find it so romantic when you look into my beautiful eyes and lose control.' -  Who Let You Go, The Killers.

So just how do you sleep at night?

Is it ritual cups of tea, reading books, plumping pillows, having the blanket just so, having the blind down just right?

How many pages of Miranda July's new book do you read before you switch off the light? Do you have a glass of water next to your bed?

Is it Ambien, meditation, acupuncture, homeopathy, talk therapy, stress relief, no coffee after 12, running 5 km a day, lying staring at the ceiling, turning the pillow over and over to get to the other, fresher side? Is it lying awake not watching the clock while you panic that tomorrow you need to function, need to work, need to be awake?

Is it 12 pm and you know you can't sleep so you don't go to bed because you know you can't sleep and if you went to bed you'd just lie there not sleeping?

Is it a journal by the bed to write down the things that bug you and make you wake at 3 am, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing while you remember dreams you'd rather forget?

So tell me, just how do you sleep at night?

'My sweet indecision, do you think I'd wait around for you?' - David Ford, Go to Hell

Did you ever have one of those destructively compulsive yet ecstatic relationships with someone?

I had one. His name was Nick. He smelled of Blue Stratos.

When I smell that now I remember the taste of it on his skin. Baby soft, the alcohol of the cologne dried against his skin.

It was one of those relationships where you can't bear to be apart, where all you can think about is the next time and the next time.  And the next time.

I remember lying in the park on a blanket for hours, covered in autumn leaves, and while I was with him, already thinking of the next time I'd be with him. I remember booking into a hotel room with him. I remember lying outside, under him, on patio cushions watching the stars move closer.

Listening to the Smiths. Getting high and listening to Learning to Fly and weeping, my tears dripping into his mouth, salty wet, because Pink Floyd were singing just for us.

Lying in bed together smoking pot, while he told me about working in England, which seemed so far away and so exotic to a girl who had never left Africa.

Eventually, as these things do, we broke up.

I ran into him again when I was very pregnant with my daughter and my knees almost gave way. I had climbed to the top of eight flights of stairs in a department store to have tea on the top floor and I was breathless, heavily pregnant and all I could think was 'god, he can't see me this way!'

The last time he'd seen me before was when I left his bed early one afternoon and never went back.

I remember dialling, getting to the last digit of his number and hanging up. Standing by the phone waiting and hoping but never being the one to call.

There was no email, no sms, no internet back then. Just a phone with an intermittent connection.

Sometimes it would ring and  I'd pick up and there would be no-one there, and I would hope the no-one was him.

A few years later my then sister-in-law came by to tell me that he'd died in an air crash. My knees collapsed and I was sitting on the floor but I didn't cry.

The rivers of tears never came. They still haven't.

This song reminded me about how it was. The toxicity of the relationship that makes you keep going back for more. You know you're not suited but there's a chemical romance. You know that you don't work, won't work, but there's something about the touch and feel and smell and taste that makes you go back over and over.

So you do, and then it becomes untenable and you stop. It's hard to tell which is more difficult, the stopping or the carrying on.

Everyone's had one, I guess. Will you share yours with me?

You can read about David Ford, join his group on Facebook here, and if your Christmas spirit got a little twisted, download his song, Have Yourself a Bitter Little Christmas from itunes.

For more Christmas songs to get you in the mood visit Christmas Music Everyday.

'Driving home for christmas, With a thousand memories' - Chris Rea, Driving Home For Christmas

Christmas is late in our household this year.

Usually I decorate directly after Sinterklaas.

Usually our apartment is lit up for a whole month and the lights stay up until my birthday on 11 January.

Not this year.

On Wednesday the children asked, 'Where is the Christmas tree, mama?'

On Friday they asked 'Where is the Christmas music and where are the Christmas movies?'

Today they cried because I have presents from work and we have no tree up to put them under.

Yesterday we had Christmas breakfast at work, complete with silly hats, and finally I seem to have a little bit of the Christmas spirit.

I'll be decorating like a crazy person later today, and visiting some friends later this afternoon to have some grown up Christmas fun.

If you need some Christmas spirit too, go visit Francine.

Her photos will inspire you.

My bones ache, my skin feels cold, and I'm getting so tired and so old. - Snow Patrol, Open Your Eyes

Today, over coffee, we talked about how we would never go home again.

How the living, the living here, has changed us, made us into people we were not.

It has taken the people we were, uncomplicated and naive; and adding age, created tangles from previously unaddled stetches of being and process.

Talk of children, sex and life and Philip Larkin and his Importance of Elsewhere.

Lonely in Ireland, since it was not home,
Strangeness made sense. The salt rebuff of speech,
Insisting so on difference, made me welcome:
Once that was recognised, we were in touch

Their draughty streets, end-on to hills, the faint
Archaic smell of dockland, like a stable,
The herring-hawker's cry, dwindling, went
To prove me separate, not unworkable.

Living in England has no such excuse:
These are my customs and establishments
It would be much more serious to refuse.
Here no elsewhere underwrites my existence.

Where is your elsewhere?

'You can't sleep at night. You can't dream your dreams. Your fingerprints on file, left clumsily at the scene. Your own worst enemy has come to town ... ' - Bruce Springsteen, Your Own Worst Enemy

That didn't last long.

9 weeks to be exact.

I started on 22 October and on 31 December I'll be done. So what made it not work?

The combination of not being in charge of my own time anymore. Missing my former life. The salary after tax being much much less than I expected. The kids being restless. The work/home balance being insurmountable.

The hum of office life being more like a listless drone.

One way or another it wasn't my thing. I think I realised pretty quickly that I'm no longer cut out for 9 - 5 regardless of the prestige of the job.

Though it was pretty nice to have some kind of actual worth attached to one's day to day existence.

Being able to watch the response to 'yes, I work for xxx as xxx' was infinitely more rewarding than watching the response when to that loaded question of 'what exactly do you do?' you answer 'oh, I'm a mom and I look after my kids and I work out and I lunch and sometimes I work part time in a florist'.

The response to that is usually some weird combination of,  'wow, you're a spoiled brat' and a look that says 'why don't you get a real job?'.

Things I will miss:
 

• The sense of purpose.
• Of getting up and going somewhere and having a role. Thing is, I think I defined my role so clearly before I started working that it was difficult to redefine myself.
• Having a friend that you see every day and can chat to as you walk past.
  
• Parties!
• Weird things like having your own mug in the cupboard.
• Getting cake and singing on birthdays.

Things I will not miss.

• The two o'clock dip.
• Getting excessive amounts of coffee to ward off the two o'clock dip.
• Water-cooler gossip.
• Endless going to the toilet just to be somewhere else!
• The cattiness.
• Appearing busy because you have to sit in your chair for the 8 hours you're paid for.

So what's next?

I don't know really.

I think I'll write the novel.

Blog more, travel more. Inspect my navel for fluff. Wax my upper lip. Paint my apartment.

Dream some dreams. Live some life.

Visit Paris. Hello David!

Visit Germany. Hello Charlotte!

Visit LA. Hello Neil!