Observation for the day:
The most rational, sedate and mature people are prone to the most idocy.
:)

Would my life look completely different if I wasn't perpetually 10 minutes late?
Carrie asked this to herself a while ago, and someone asked me this morning (though to be fair, I kept him waiting rather longer than 10 minutes).
It got me thinking.
Here's a list of the top three things that would never happened had I been on time.

1. I met The Man because my evening cleared up, after I was an hour late for meeting a friend and decided split-second to go to a party I would otherwise have missed.
2. I kissed P. on a bench by a fjord in Norway, with the sunset blazing off the hills and shimmering on the water after I was ten minutes late for joining my parents back at the hotel and was running down a short-cut somewhere in Geiranger. I bumped into him on the street corner, and he said he was already ten minutes late meeting his boss for drinks. Parents and Boss both waited a while. Fate. That was the first time we really, really kissed. And I will remember it forever. (Are you reading this?)
3. I missed a flight to Stockholm and the person sitting to me on the next one lives in the same city as me and is a third or fourth cousin I'd never heard of before. We made instant friends.

Life has it's own clocks.
If I'm late, it's because fate ran away with me.
Don't be mad. I will always choose to run with it. No reflection on you.

Tiny things.

• When I woke up this morning, there was a cup of hot coffee by my side as soon as I squeaked, coffeeeee.
• On the computer, freshly downloaded Season 1 of the Secret Diary of a Call Girl. We watched Episode 1 curled up in blankets and crunching loudly on our toast, giggling and kissing.
• A packet of Oreos were folded up near my laptop to take with me so that I can munch on something during this odious, tedious, damned chapter.
• And a second cup of coffee was steaming on my dressing table to keep me company whilst I did my make up.

It's always the small things he does that shows me how he out-classes almost everyone else I know, myself included. There's thoughtfulness, finesse, care, of a quality and consistency that is only just about matched by one or two other people in my life. And on the edges, the roughness of his cheeks in the morning and the tightness of his hug at the door. Those are unmatched by anyone, past or present.

(Yes, of course you are excused if you have to go and vomit.)

Thank you, God, thank you thank you thank you.

Foreground:
Statistics in SPSS and a load of interview transcripts.

Background:
Harry Potter. Twilight. The Lord of the Rings. Narnia.

The real world. Other worlds. I like a healthy mix :)

I recommend....

... going to the movies alone.

I haven't really ever thought about making a point of doing things alone before, because I always assumed that I could without a problem whenever I needed to. Lunchtimes throughout my school career were, after all, spent alone under a rain tree eating my tiffin and staring into the middle distance, first with sullen frustration, then with resignation and in the last few years, with quite a bit of joy. I ultimately made a few friends (all of whom I have now lost, I am glad to say), but even though we ate together often, on the last day of school ever, ever, I made it a point to return to my old spot under the raintree and eat my lunch alone. I bought myself a Pepsi from the canteen that day, sat there and sipped it, and said to myself, thank god that's over!

After, in college and through university, I finally got over myself and found my real friends. But still, I sometimes in restaurants alone, I've taken myself out for drinks alone, I shop alone, and I travel alone more than I do in company. The movies was kind of the last frontier, for no good reason.
So just to tick off that box, I decided to cross it.

Yesterday, I spent the morning torturing myself over a draft for yet another chapter of the thesis. By 3 pm, I'd had enough. I got me a beautiful date for one. A ticket to watch Twilight, a super huge popcorn and a Pepsi, and an entire row all to myself.
The film itself was actually far better than the previous one. Ms. Bella Swan is finding her stride, Mr. Jacob Black has exactly the right mix of pectorals and collar bone and Mr. Cullen has got better lines this time around and his eyes went pitch black for about five minutes. Who knew that that would look disturbing?!

Super.
I might do it again tomorrow.

To practice:
Shrugging, and saying, Ok, this feels like this. Great. Now carry on. *shrug.

This is not something that I am good at doing. I plan to get very good at it.
Not because I want to turn into a cold hard bitch. Because I want to stay sane-ish through PhD submission, job hunting, making decisions about moving to India vs. staying here, moving with the man vs. moving without him.
The last one, especially. Makes me want to stop breathing.
That will not do.

Kama: Impure love, with expectation. The opposite of Bhakti. But playful, immersed in the bliss and the horror of everything, feeling it all, desiring peace, not desiring it to end, dancing on the edge of the precipice, wanting flight, but also wanting the freefall.

That is the word for it.

Where's German when you need it.

I need to find a word for:
Looking at a sunny day laced with fractal clouds in the softest blue sky and hearing the wind blow and feeling ecstasy and despair, both at once. Feeling immense and infinite possibilities and feeling the ultimate futility of any possible path. Open and closed. Dancing on the edge of something incredibly deep, but staying hypnotised by surfaces.
What's the word for this?
I don't know.

But I do know a great little device for stopping it all feeling so fraught:
Cigarettes.

Sigh.

I am scared (oh, like hell) of getting cancer.
Cigarettes are carcinogenic.
I am scared of cigarettes.
You'd think.


Two Marlboro Lights were hurt during the writing of this post.
May my cravings rest in peace.