The Contingency Plan

lacking inspiration and i'm tired
i don't want to write blogs full of angst and frustration so i'll be back when i'm feeling clearer...
xx

Finish Him Off Boys

I'm a bandit for closure. Things gnaw at me. If not resolved I wake up at all times of the night with bits of my ear missing or my hair shorter. Fingernails fall off during meetings and it's all the small but important parts, never my thighs or bum.

While sitting here at my desk stressed with the cleaners buzzing around me, I felt my bottom lip fall loose and suddenly had the urge to call Jack. I didn't care who was right or wrong, I just wanted to make sure he was ok.

So he answered the telephone with his customary 'Hello ma'am' and we spoke for 15 minutes about books, work, Wolfie, how tired we both are and then of course I had to say that I was calling to see if he was alright following our last conversation.

And then it happened. It was one of those enlightening and restoring moments when you don't feel like you were possessed or mad, things are justified, your conscious is washed clean and you wipe that 'crazy bitch' mark from your forehead. You smile but your lips don't move.

I was honest. I said things had been left so ambiguously and I didn't want there to be a hint of negativity left between us. He understood. He agreed. He said he never realised how he felt about me until my last text message. I said I never knew how he felt or where I stood and he apologised. And although we both know it was never meant to work out romantically, we decided to have coffee to talk through the grey. I have a very strong feeling he's going to become a great friend.

The funny thing with Jack is that we've never agreed on a book. Throughout the seven or so we've both read, if he loves it, I'll be indifferent towards it, if I fall for every word, he won't get past the first 70 pages. I've realised we've never been on the same page. He's determined we'll one day find a text we both love but I'm happy even if we don't.

And so now my bottom lip doesn't feel so loose anymore. In fact, I'm smiling.

it's been a good week, but in true form, i'm the princess of procrastination today. i've been sitting with my 'to do' list on the couch for around three hours, watching mtv, reading blogs, emailing, napping and have done absolutely nothing planned. bad me. but i guess the day's not over. yet.

anyhow, despite my lethagy today, i've tried not to get caught up with sore backs, tiredness and/or indigestion and have been doing things to help me embrace being pregnant, feel sexy, inspired and still me. it's been working beautifully, but today's my rebellious and indulgent lazy day.

i've been thinking a lot about the book club today. i went on thursday night and it was a little bizarre. i don't know whether it's because many of us work long hours and are reaching mid-year tiredness, whether we have too many lawyers at the table, or because of underlying weirdness with jack, but something was off.

conversations have always been fascinating and alive, but we had a few moments of uncomfortable silence. the dynamics were different and we had our first pretentious conversation, which was a little off-putting. the subject was whether it's easier to write in the first, second or third person and reminded me of uni where people made comments just to spout the authors, articles and theories they'd read.

i know i've said it before, but i don't feel like i contribute to the group intellectually (and no, this isn't why i didn't like the nature of the last conversation). it bothers me. i read each book, i have opinions, sometimes i do my research on the author or subject matter, i can usually identify similar works, but all of this evaporates into a smile and what i'm wearing when i get there. and i unconsciously let it happen. perhaps it's the way i was introduced to the group. jack introduced me as the umbrella godess. isabella joked that jack and jeremy would be silently feuding over me and although i don't want to sound conceited, i could feel it each time i went. and now i'm being placed into a new paradym.

and i like my new paradym, even though jack and i didn't have a single conversation together that night. we ended up speaking before the book club and he reacted with a lot of shock (more than lucas) and almost as if i were dumping him. it was confusing and although things are amicable, i can't deny that they also feel sad so i'm not going to push it with him. i have no idea where his head was at, how he felt about me and what he wanted from me and although i still don't i'm happy to leave it that way.

anyhow, this month's book is 'skinny dipp' by carl hiaasen. everyone felt like a new genre, an easier going read so this should hopefully make our next catch up a little different from the last.

we do sound tired don't we.

i went to my first word slam tonight. yes, i know they've been around for years, BUT i not only went, but also judged. so there.

the event was held in an intimate inner city cafe called 'the lounge'. it use to hold funky dj nights and play arty movies on the walls, but now holds poetic word slams and lets artists paint the millieu.

being a virgin the scene i noticed it was like a small community. the poets were all very acquainted and each had their own support network sporting the same choppy haircuts, piercings, and carefully selected vintage, second hand clothing.

my neighbour, nathan, is one of the organisers of the national youth writing festival and has become close friends with me and particularly with lucas so i went along on my own to show support as he coordinated the event. lucas had to work, which was a shame as he would've loved it.

it felt good to place myself outside of comfort and go somewhere on my own where i didn't know anyone, where all the 'anyone's would know each other.

nevertheless within a few moments i had made some friends and as i thought, nathan was running around trying to fix broken heaters, dim overty strong lights and make sure everyone was happy.

and the show went on smoothly. the ambience was relaxed and friendly and the poets were very impressive. i later discovered many have been in the scene for years and you could tell. the performances were touching - hell, they made me laugh, they made me cry... judging was also fun and yes the guys i voted for won.

my older sister called me today. she's actually my half sister but oh well.
i found out about her when i was eleven. the dinner table was scattered with homework and drawings and mum and dad sat down together facing me and simply said i have an older sister who's coming to live with us soon. she was from mum's first marriage (when mum was 18) and when mum got divorced, chinese law stated all children were their father's custody. mum has missed her a lot. they've fought for years to regain custody.
i was ecstatic and made plans of what we could do together.
a few weeks later, my very affectionate family was shocked by an angry and rebellious teenager that wanted nothing to do with us. the following years were extremely rocky and rebecca left home when she was 18. she was married by the time she was 21 and at the age of 30, has three sons with her very strict italian husband. she doesn't even spend money without asking him first. he's head of the house and she respects that.
i see her perhaps once or twice a year. she called as she found out i'm pregnant. i felt bad as i forgot to tell her. she honestly slipped my mind, perhaps because she plays such a small part of my life now.
we have very little in common, we share different values. she still finds it hard to accept my relationship with lucas because we're together and not married. she's not flexible, i have no desire to be close to her and feel terribly guilty for it.

he described himself as the gay greek boy, and as we rode a faded taxi through sydney's inner city suburbs he explained he wasn't really in advertising, but in design. creative design. for an advertising agency. where he was a director.
i asked him if that definition made him feel better.
he laughed.
his manicured fingers gently combed through his carefully styled hair, he re-adjusted his burbury sunglasses and with excitment and lots of hand movements declared he was about to pick out a brand new bmw. but the only reason why, was because of his car allowance and his bonus, which will probably go on the new mortgage this year. there's no way he could normally afford it due to the holiday. oh you haven't heard about the holiday yet? yes, he treated his boyfriend on a trip to the essentials: new york, paris and toyko. it was divine.
that youth researcher today had no idea. i mean, who really likes those virgin ads? let's face it, warren is the biggest gay man trying to be a dorky straight man and as a gay man he finds that offensive. he adored the advertising in tokyo. it lacked pretention, unlike his older sister who obviously enrolled her son into sydney's most exclusive school just so she could use the name in general reference to him. i mean, their father's a cab driver and mum sews damn kangaroos on bags for the japanese!
anyway, as he mentioned, he's not in advertising. it's so pretentious. don't you hate all the wank? he does. anyhow darlings, thanks for the ride. god, i've talked so much. have a fabuloso day. smooch smooch.

i've had a soothing weekend. i saw my mother for the first time since discovering i'm pregnant, i hung out with my family, had brunch with close friends, and lucas and i've naturally enjoyed some time off together.

but it's sunday night and i'm wrestling with absolute dread. i'm fretting. i'm trying to motivate myself but to no avail. what keeps me going are deadlines and the fact that i have only two months of work left.

last week was stressfully exhausting. i worked my ass off and i achieved some amazing results, but feel this coming week will be no better. my managers have recently been determined to cut our ridiculous working hours and encourage a more balanced lifestlye, yet today i received two work-related calls and a host of emails about things that could've waited. and the the two people concerned were surprised when (on a sunday), i hadn't thought about work.

i'm watching frida. the women are peeling corn, talking and taking care of children and i'm envious. what does my corporate work achieve? i have a list of company names and campaigns but it will all blow away with the wind. i think i'm depressed. i miss smoking. no, not just the momentary high, but the routine, the surrender, it's watching the smoke twist, writhe and then disppear. and it makes me think that i want to surrender to something i love, which is why work feels so different now. it's no longer my love. and i can see the tiny vests and socks we have in bags for our baby and i know who i now surrender to.

but i'm tired yet can't sleep.