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November 2006


According to Keirsey Temperament Sorter II.

An idealist counsellor in love:

You typically appreciate the rewards that come from serious connections much more than those derived from casual dating or non-intimate socializing as a couple. In love, you're seeking your soulmate. You're apt to want the kind of partner who is willing to be, in Rilke's words, "a guardian of your solitude." Your own vision of life is clear and complex, and you assume that your mate is, or wants to be, similarly centered. That's not to suggest you're looking for a self-centered mate. Quite the opposite is true.


How art thou neglected by me! Although in online seminar the other day, I protected your honour, blog, by pretending not to hear when someone asked me for your url. Never, blog!
No nay never.

The last week or so has been crammed with:
teg (the nightmare continues)
The reindeer (has now pushed off at last)
Artist visits
Video-editing training
teg photoshoot
my friend's Dad's funeral (and now AM's Grandmother (at age of 104) has died.
talking to a property solicitor whose office was beside a tattoo parlour about houses, convenient if you want to tattoo your mortgage formula to your forehead
receiving my inheritance (before the demise of my father)
adjusting to such (excitement and a strange kind of disengagement. Why do I work?)
arranging a cake for my cousin's 40th birthday in London
minding nephew, Spike. (so sweet: he opened the drawer where a hundred variously grotty and ancient stuffed toys slumber and exclaimed: WOW! Now he says Hello, and Nenny, (which is any quadruped) and kisses pictures of animals in books and apparently, religious statues).
thinking about projects (class one for Digi hub and storyboard, and final project. Interviewing father in law at Christmas, and neighbours of JB)
having horrible inter-uterine war in my uterus, or that's what it felt like
eating sticky toffee pud my mother made
eating tiffin bars and drinking coffee which normally is a no-go area for me being interpreted by my body as pure cocaine
lying down not enough and sleeping not enough
and going to yoga in this new place called the Yoga Room I like
wearing knee high socks - technically these are over the knee on the normal folks
not going to life drawing (but will next time)
escaping from A Coogan's talk for tutorial
eating Avoca scones which Spike's mum gave me and parcelling them up to fit in the tiny freezer.
thinking about memory and mortality and children
and trying to work out Flash actionscript for which my mind was not designed
going to the ecoshop and buying bin bags
and getting my Ma a present for her birthday on November
and trying to think of something/anything my brother might like for his
and wondering why it is so many people I know were born in November
and being cut off by that friend who I wrote about before, and not really minding at all
and helping AM with her site and being glad it's nearly done
and writing everything I need to do on my file NB so I won't forget
and going to the Botanic Gardens with A and enjoying the warm steam in the jungle house.
and seeing L's pup, now called Taz, who is so small and yet so full of character and thinking when we have a garden..
and hoping the JB isn't worried about getting a permanent job
watching H and Away which is my vice - they are in the bush after helicopter crash. How long can they last out there?
reading The Ladder of Years, by Anne Tyler, good, but not much course work
wishing we could go and stay in a lovely hotel for a night, or four
and not house-keeping
and listening a lot to people lecturing me

and other stuff, which has inevitably burst out of my over-stuffed little mind like horsehair out of an old fashioned couch.
Other stuffing.

being married to the Pope

Did you sleep ok last night love?

I was awake a bit but grand now thanks. slept till 9! shocking and unprotestant. you are actually a better protestant than me

if being able to get up is anything to go by

might see you in dcu about 1?

will text you

Yes, the problem is I still know the hail mary, a dead give away

 'll be here, see you then xxx

and the blessing thing.

Mmmmm in the name of the father, and of the sun ... son, and of the holy ghost

and the standing at the window thing, saying People of Ireland! I love you!

I love you xxx

the alternative Holy Exclusive Roman Catholic Church (wherein priests can marry a Protestant)

The One True Holy Hogan and Apostolic Church

see you later Father Diddy, bless me

Yes, you can marry anyone, but you must recognise that we're the only ones who know the correct combination to get us into heaven


till later

double spaced

after whole day conference called: R*thinking the everyday: Mat*rial culture blah blah.
Or something. A bit might be missing there. It was pretty good. Ken Garland was there. His enthusiasm was infectious. He is a bit of a design guru. It must be strange to be in that position, where people already have a view of you before they ever meet you, and feel obliged to either suck up or be contentious, accordingly.
His photos of the rickshaws in Bangladesh were great. They are all decorated purely for the joy of it. It was great.
I've always called (to change the subject in a 180 degree turn) my old/ex? friend R (the Maria who I have mentioned before) on her birthday which is today. I have thought about it a bit over the last while and decided that no response at all was too cold and ringing too hypocritical so I sent her a email saying the simplest happy birthday. This was in the spirit of, well we've known each other for so long, it seems a shame not to leave that door open just that much, and no more - for old times sake so to speak. (I really must write more. The muscles of writing are weeeak). But at the same time, I acknowledge that we have grown apart and have differing expectations of each other. Whether she gets it or not, who knows. I know my heart is in the right place.

We are going to see a man next week about property. My father got an idea in his head and gave me my inheritance before he died. I felt funny about it, but I think I have to respect his wishes, graciously. Since it's what he wants. It's fun looking at houses. And stuff (really must do some serious editing on this anon. it's ropey). And what else? ideas, names and research thrown at us in college. Some sticks. Some falls off flaccidly.
Ah well. will take my befuddled brain off to do some slumping. This is what JB and I say to each other in the evening, when all the possibilites of the day seem exhausted: Let the slumping begin!