You Want Some Advice?

No one else can advise you on what you have to do as a depressed person, to recover from the funk you are in beit passing or constant. You have to find that balance or focus or whatever it is, yourself. You are not alone though. People will help you. Other people do understand you. You must talk to them and sometimes let them talk to you.

For me, a realisation dawned last night that made me feel much better than I have in a long time. I did not beat myself up or think horrible things about myself. The words "useless" and "abandoned" didn't enter my mind at all until thinking of writing this blog. It's not because I somehow realised they weren't true. Of course they aren't. That's the depression pushing the painful thoughts to the front and burying the positive ones in a black sticky ooze at the back of my brain.

This realisation was that I have to stop thinking I am selfish and actually be selfish. Most of my day is spent trying to work out how the hell I can make everyone else feel better about having to put up with me. How taxing I am on all those around me. How it is a matter of time before they all leave me and I am abandoned and alone.

Screw it. If it happens, it happens. If they leave, I make new friends. If there are no more people in the world left to be my friends, I'll get a damn dog. If the dog leaves, I'll get a fish. If the fish jumps on to the carpet and commits ritual suicide rather than be with me then I'll start Internet dating.

See! There is always some kind of alternative when fit hits the shan. People come and people go. They call me all sorts of stuff and most of the time they are right, at least with the information they have. I can't think of them at the moment. When I'm strong and able to stand alone without rocking then I'll start prioritising others. For now, it's work and me. Work so that I can afford the time to look after me.

Me. Me. Me.

For once in my life, I'm going to stop joking about only thinking of me and do it.

See you all on the other side of this "getting better crap". Or, see none of you. Whatev...

I will not die an unlived life

"I will not die an unlived life.
I will not live in fear
of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
more accessible;
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance,
to live so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom,
and that which came to me as blossom,
goes on as fruit."

--Dawna Markova

Smile

Smile though your heart is aching;
Smile even though it's breaking.
When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by.
If you smile through your fear and sorrow,
Smile and maybe tomorrow,
You'll see the sun come shining through for you.

Light up your face with gladness,
Hide every trace of sadness.
Although a tear may be ever so near,
That's the time you must keep on trying,
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile,
If you just smile.

That's the time you must keep on trying,
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile.

Tonight I told my mother

People don't actually understand what it's like to be mentally sick. They don't understand that it's not as easy as it seems. Some days I try so hard to be normal that I have to go home and sleep for 4 hours just to recover. Other days I sit on the floor and cry. Some days I explode and kick at the world. Push everyone away. Fall apart. Those days are fewer and far between and I recover faster. All I can do is survive and live every day until the days are easy to live :)

responsibility

I accept responsibility for everything that has gone wrong in my life.

Afraid

I'm going to be honest with you. If you get no other consistency from me, you will always have my honesty.

Last night was a good night and an awful night. It started well with arrangements to see almost all my favourite people in Sydney. It ended badly when I lost it with four of my best friends and told them I could not be friends with them anymore.

I'm a drama queen on my calmest of days and with only a little provocation. Late last night, I was a bloody diva on steroids.

What triggered it all was finding out that these four people had regularly seen my ex at outings and never ever said a word to me about it. They had all decided that it was best to not tell me because it would just upset me. Damn right it upsets me but not because they hang with my ex. It upset me because it showed that none of them thought me strong enough for them to be honest with me.

I am a honest person. I love that all those people out there are protecting me from myself and acknowledging fragility on my part but the truth is that I am doing ok.

So I hate that my ex husband went and joined my old workplace of two years and now jetsets around the world drinking and working with people who I introduced him to. It upsets me that he comes across to the world as the reasonable one and I am the wild crazy bitch.

We were together for over a decade. We were married. When he told me he was leaving me, he stayed six more weeks before he moved out. In that time, he systematically broke me down so that I would not have any self worth by the time he left. My family and close friends at the time saw this. They picked me up and stayed with me when I was not allowed to be on my own at all. When I was a danger to myself.

So yes, I do not like that man but to be honest he simply does not matter anymore. There is no scenario in the world where I would welcome him back in to my life as even a friend. He knows that. I know that.

So I cut off four of my best mates. Along with Rob's silence and their absence, I am all alone again. I'm tough though. I've got my family still. There is this online place that has people I can't see. I will continue to blog for them.

What happens next? I do what Mum taught me: Pick yourself up, brush yourself off and move on.

Earthquakes and Lightning

It's been almost a week since I moved in to my new place on Cat Alley in Surry Hills. It is called that because it is a no through road heaven for it's 14+ feline inhabitants and two dogs. There is a woman who yells at bike riders, fast drivers and kids on scooters to not run over the animals. It's a short cut for runners trying to stay off the main roads. People wander up and down looking at the award winning gardens that make the place look like a small lane in an English hamlet.

At 34 years old, this is the first place I have ever lived on my own. I chose it. I am in the process of furnishing it. It is all mine. There is not one thing in this place that holds the scent or memory of my past life. There is no sign of Giles or Rob or any of those things that are what I call "then". It is only now and the future and that is refreshing, freeing and terrifying, all at the same time.

The other day, I opened the door in a very Cameron Diaz Spiderman underwear in Charlies Angel scene to a smiling plumber who apologised for waking me but thanked me for making his day. It is fun to be able to dance around the house or use only candles for light or watch movies until 3am and not annoy anyone else. I don't have to excuse myself or ask permission or worry about lying normally in a bed. It is finally my life in my place and I can do any damn thing I want. That's very liberating. It's also a little funny.

There are some things that are odd, in that they don't feel quite right. If I hear a sound then I worry that I'm here on my own and only know three kinds of martial arts. See that warning potential stalker jerk. Sometimes I want to tell someone something that has just happened and made me giggle until gingerbeer came out my nose. At least I have Twitter for that. There are no cats. They will be coming down in a few weeks. Oh, I so miss my kittehs.

Last year, I had different friends; different men; different furniture; different priorities; and many different issues. Now that is pretty much cleared up, I can start moving in to the rediscovery of my career and work out how the hell this living alone thing works.

I will let you know how I go. Just know that I'm very happy at the moment. There are those episodes of grumpiness or too much self-analysis but all in all, life is good. No, it's damn good.

Thanks, Universe. Muwah!

HTFU Princess

"HTFU Princess" is the abbreviated way of saying "Harden The Fuck Up Princess" when someone is whinging about something.

Yesterday, it was the cool thing to say "R U OK?" because that was theme for the day. As you can tell, I feel a little bit of contempt for some of these depression awareness days. Of course, it is for people without depression to remind themselves not to be complete thoughtless shits to those around them suffering depression.

Trust me, not all depressed people are as vocal and bloody ranty as me. There is at least one person around you who regularly suffers from it. While you are sitting there discussing work issues at a meeting or over a coffee with friends, they will be fighting off the idea that they could end all this misery if they took a cab ride to The Gap (suicide point) and just walked off the edge.

Those are the ones who feel destructive inwardly, like me. There are others who think only of hurting the world around them in anyway they can. They are men and women. They are young and old. They are alone in their heads, taunted by their brain chemistry.

So you guys have your one day a year when you ask if your mates are ok and then you go on to pink ribbon day or feed the starving kids day. It eases your middle class guilt. It lets the liberals believe they are so empathic and in touch with the real lives of those less fortunate.

I know this because I was like that. I was you. I thought I understood and empathised and cared and showed support. Damn, I was wrong.

If you give a shit about people around you then ask "are you ok?" every single time you see them and listen to the answer. It won't always be "yes, darling I'm brilliant". One day, that silent miserable soul will tell you the truth AND it won't be on International Give A Shit Day.

Walk more than one day in their shoes. They have to. I'd not wish it upon a single one of you to go through what I have experienced in the last year and a bit. Not even on my worst enemy or my ex-husband.

Next time you tell me to HTFU Princess, I'll laugh hysterically at you. I'm much stronger than you EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Protocols

Ummm, excuse me.

My friend Megan (aka @Gabfran) described me as a people observer. It wasn't until that moment that I thought of it that way. Having grown up a maths geek and transforming in to a fluttering computing geek, I have spent most of my life not really understanding what other people think.

There is a disconnect between me and the next person. Thanks to my mother's repeated teachings to myself and my siblings about putting yourself in other people's shoes, I have a good amount of empathy and an addiction to shoes. Having an understanding of people was not something that was innate for me, like it was for my younger sister. Most days, most people were mostly unfathomable to me.

Because of this lack of understanding and like a good little conceptualist, I took it upon myself to look at what was happening and attempt to see the patterns of behaviour. Over time and by about the time I hit my late teens, I had a fairly good model of human behaviour. That does by no means say that I understood or even now understand people. I doubt I ever truly will. What I do know though is how to listen and absorb what is being communicated and understand the meaning and motivation behind the message.

It may sound mechanical, constructed or even insincere but it isn't. People are just a hobby of mine. I often refer to my portfolio of friends and the idea that you can tell more about someone from the people they surround themselves with than from the person themselves. We all wear masks but our treatment of others will often betray us.

“Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter what fork you use.” -- Emily Post

One thing that bothers me on each visit to my home in Darwin, is the way that people are willing to treat each other. Of course, these people I speak of are the exception and not the rule but they are more common than pandas.

Having worked in my sister's jewellery shop regularly, I have experienced moments where I spoke to someone who entered the shop and got not even eye contact in acknowledgement. At first I thought I'd done something to offend them or had been too forward but on reflection a simple "hello" is hardly toe stomping.

It seems that people with little to no social skills do actually exist. They walk this earth and look just like everybody else. They pay taxes. They breed. They own property and to my peril, they like fashion jewellery too on occasion.

I often used to take this behaviour and other more subtle inhabitations of this as some reflection on my manners or presence. Then it came to pass that no matter how much more considerate, respectful or thoughtful I was, these people never changed. Words like "please", "thank you" and "excuse me" did not exist to them. Other people were and are a disturbance in their life and there is not protocol demanding they be civil so they are not.

“Good manners sometimes means simply putting up with other people's bad manners.” -- H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Not all is lost though. In my life, as in my work and all interactions, I believe that the most powerful way to change the world is to set a good example yourself. Lead the way through demonstration and consistency. If someone is rude, don't be rude back. Rather be who you are, consistent in your behaviour and respect for others.

I may not know a lot about people but I do know that kindness is like a spark that lights a fire. The way you treat others will bring the same back on you. Kill the bad manners with good manners. You won't save all people but saving people is over-rated. Save yourself. Be someone you can live with. Please.

Thank you.

The way it ends

"What makes a man a man? A friend of mine once wondered. Is it his origins? The way he comes to life? I don't think so. It's the choices he makes. Not how he starts things, but how he decides to end them" -- John Myers in Hellboy

The Tim Show

Tim was the best man at my wedding and the most relaxed

There was this guy a knew when I lived in Canberra, called Tim. He was a pretty easy going kind of guy and not much seemed to phase him. When I was affronted by the smallest snub, he would smile and tell me not to take it personally. My rejoinder was often a quick snap back of "it's happening to me so how do I not take it personally?"

Tim and I didn't really understand each other. We were both a friend of a friend and that node was enough to bring us together regularly. In any other situation, Tim would have driven me insane with his overly-relaxed view of all that occurred around him.

One day over many beers, I asked him to explain to me how he saw the world. Why didn't he seem pissed at anything or anyone, ever? Why was stress never knocking at his door yelling "Police, we have a battering ram!"

He told me in a very matter-of-fact way that was because he was the star of the Tim show. On the Tim show everything was about him. When people interacted with him, they came on to the Tim show to do a cameo. When the characters told him something, he took it at face value. If he went for a job and they said he was over-qualified then he simply took that as fact. When someone rocked the boat in the Tim show, it didn't sink. That was because any negative stuff was more learning of morals on the Tim show.

The way he saw it, each other person in the world has their own show that they star in. Sometimes there are spin-offs and guest appearances. They didn't always remember that other people were on their shows because it was all about them. If a decision seemed mean or affected Tim badly, that was either because they had a lesson for him or they were too consumed in their own show to realise the consequences. People were not bad. They were just thoughtless at times.

I have passed on this tale of the Tim show to many people in my time, when they needed to know that it is all about you, except when it is all about someone else. The world isn't made up of good and bad; right or wrong; or even black and white. It's just a bunch of sometimes mismatched TV shows with egocentric stars who are teaching and learning from each others lessons.

If you have a day when you feel a little or a lot stressed by those around you. Treat it like the Tim show or the Damana show. Don't stress too much. Tomorrow's episode is going to be better.

Scratch That

Last night, I asked the oracle (AKA: Twitter) if copper saucepans were the best kind out there. There were many responses, from which I learned that the base should be copper but the food should never be exposed to it. Copper is an excellent conductor but must be coated or sandwiched between alloys that are not so reactive. Stainless steel will probably be my choice.

Then a Darwin friend Jewel, asked the following question... "Saucepan shopping is fun. Is it sad that I think that?"


My response was not at all. I understand that sentiment very well. At the moment, it is more than saucepans with copper bases that cause that inner tingle. It's the whole nine yards.

You see, I'm starting from scratch. After 2009 (The Worst Year of my Life), I decided to sell every single thing I had and start again. I kept my books, DVDs, clothes, shoes, computers and kittehs. Everything else is garage sale history.

I have never lived on my own. Every decision I have ever made had to be run by another person. It had to be OK'd and negotiated and agreed upon. Nothing was mine. Everything was ours.

Now things are much changed. Everything is mine to choose. Mine to select. Mine to take responsibility or blame for. What a freeing feeling. What an exciting and magical time for me.

Those of you who are not serial killers or kleptomaniacs are invited over to see what becomes of the Mad Den (yes, a play on my last name). It might not be as exciting for you as me but just nod and pretend you understand :o)

Real Eyes Ation

One of the sweetest realisations of my life was discovering that being alone does not mean being lonely.

I crave. I love. I've waited long enough.

Am I not pretty enough?
Is my heart too broken?
Do I cry too much?
Am I too outspoken?
Don’t I make you laugh?
Should I try it harder?
Why do you see right through me?

I live, I breathe, I let it rain on me,
I sleep, I wake, I try hard not to break,
I crave, I love, I’ve waited long enough,
I try as hard as I can.

Am I not pretty enough?
Is my heart too broken?
Do I cry too much?
Am I too outspoken?
Don’t I make you laugh?
Should I try it harder?
Why do you see right through me?

I laugh, I feel, I make believe it’s real,
I fall, I freeze, I pray down on my knees,
I hope, I stand, I take it like a man,
I try as hard as I can.

Am I not pretty enough?
Is my heart too broken?
Do I cry too much?
Am I too outspoken?
Don’t I make you laugh?
Should I try it harder?
Why do you see right through me?

Why do you see, why do you see, why do you see right through me?

Manic Pain

I wish I could find the strength to explain the pain at the aftermath of a hypomanic episode to you.

Mine are usually fueled by drinking for a few days in a row but can come upon me without any help, if they choose. This the opposite to the low of depression. It is not like being fully bi-polar. That usually involves mania and full loss of control.

This instead is like being so drunk or drugged that you have zero inhibitions. The thing is, you don't have to be drinking or drunk or drugged at the time for this to occur. It's just the result or precursor to a depressive low.

You feel invincible, mighty, incredible and bulletproof.

In the same way that a depressive state can drive you to self-destruct, so can a hypomanic state.

Usually, I don't have any idea of how much damage I've done. Usually, to friendships.

The worst thing is the shame you feel after it. The loss at destroying another friendship. The fear of what you've done or said. Although mine are few and far between, they are there.

I'm sorry if you have suffered at my hand when this is the case. I will not blame anyone else for it as it is me. I am it. There is no excuse good enough for the person it happens to.

I am sorry.

Confusion for One

AF: What happened? I thought he loved you.
DM: I thought so too.
AF: I guess everyone but he knows.
DM: I guess.

Surry Hills' Secret Life

The personality of the suburb of Surry Hills is very much a reflection of the people who live in it. Let me explain.

Overwhelmed with excitement at the return of AC from an overseas trip, I was up nice and early (two hours too early in fact) and decided a nice early morning stroll was in order. It's a fresh crisp Spring Sunday morning in Sydney. Most of the streets have road blocks on them for the 2010 Sydney Marathon. Police are loitering at corners ensuring cars don't go where they need to go. Pedestrians are allowed to wander around, and I was.

On the second street I turned on to, I had first the displeasure and then acceptance that my path would be painted with vomit.

You see, by day Surry Hills is a funky little suburb sprayed with cafes, boutiques, neat terraced houses, pubs pretending to slum it and the wide variety of people who frequent those places.

There are the little old ladies who yell at the skeg sk8er boys going clunk clunk clunk passed the late-in-life mothers pushing thousand dollar prams around the 19 year old homeless guy who is calling out names at the gay couple who didn't drop him change. And don't forget the hipsters with their deliberately mismatched aged designer label outfits, who smirk at the try hard bogans as they complain about the over-priced beer.

It's eclectic, to state the obvious.

In the evening on the weekend, she transforms. This funky suburb goes home after a late afternoon lunch with machiatto and puts on her coolest threads, then goes drinking; eating; dancing; prancing; and afterward, vomiting.

As some of us wake early and shower then take in the fresh cold morning during a walk, others are not finished partying. They stagger alone or in rowdy unsteady gangs up the streets. They discuss such topics as "how good was that thing?" and "are you sure this is the right direction?"

Sophisticated Surry Hills had a bit too much to drink last night and she's a little precious. I sure hope those over achieving marathon runners keep it down as they stomp passed her.

At My Best

"I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." — Marilyn Monroe

Which came first - the freak or the egg?

Surry Hills is an interesting place. I've spent 3+ years living here, which is the entirety of my time in Sydney. I've ventured out to stay in North Bondi (NoBo) and Manly lately and this has given me an entirely different take on Sydney.

Just now, I returned home (to a friend's place I'm cat sitting at) after breakfast and a visit to the local grocer. There was a girl power walking with weights, up and down the small street. She was wearing some kind of shiny black plastic tracksuit. I was chatting to the neighbours as she went by over and over again. Finally, I asked what kind of material it is. I only asked. She jumped away from our group and screamed "don't touch me!"

For the record, I had no intention of touching her. I was standing behind two 70+ year old ladies. We all stood there and stared as she swore a few times and walked down the street.

There are these moments in Surry Hills when I wonder if people act like freaks because they are scared of freaks or because they are freaks.

It maybe one of those chicken and egg things. They are all freaks.

Ideals

A lot of what you read here is the product of conversations that I had with friends and family in real life. We talked about something and it sparked a chain of thoughts that finally came out here, in electrons on a blog on a server in a Google cloud somewhere.

That doesn't mean that I repeat what someone said to me or expose or negate their point of view. Not at all. Instead, I take the final dump of what has developed as an over-think in my mind and place it here. Maybe you can read it and snuff out the spark with a brilliant and enlightened comment or take it with you and think on. Either way, the idea goes on.

A friend asked me recently if I am an idealist. The question is like a bit like the uncertainty principle. Asking me makes me change the way I would answer the question because it sounds a little like a bad accusation. A closed question with only one sane and reasonable answer.

Once you get passed 25 years old, you should be more cynical and less idealistic. Ideals are for university students and tree huggers who don't use deodorant. Not for hipsters that frequent trendy bars and discuss the lives of the middle class, as if they were concepts from a Steinbeck novel.

That's not how the question was asked though. This person was just asking, in order to approach a possible explanation for why I no longer believe in love.

The theory was that an idealist young woman grows up believing that her prince will come. He will be a knight in shining armour and take her away in to a sunset filled happily-ever-after.

A realist probably thinks that it is going to happen more like Shrek crossed with Reservoir Dogs.

As for who is right, I think it isn't so much a case of right and wrong but of how you look at things. Yes, yes, that's the typical Damana with her "perspective changes perception" outlook on life. I've even been told that I am delusional for believing that there is a silver lining to every cloud and it's probably 925 sterling.

Whether it is delusion or not, I do believe perspective builds perception and perception is reality. Does this mean I was shattered by my marriage because my prince was a complete tosser? No, I still think marriage vows mean something to me that they did not mean to him. If I get a chance again, I would still strongly believe in commitment and love.

Do broken friendships and abandoned promises make me think that people are junk yard dogs, waiting to go for my jugular? Nope. I think the majority of people are good. They have different priorities to me so they may not choose a path that satisfies my life needs but it is their path.

Will I ever fall in love again? Not easily. Maybe never. Does that make me feel incomplete and less idealistic? Again, no way. I think there is a prince out there for every princess. I don't want the dude to save me. I'm a self-rescuing princess. I don't need anyone saving me. That doesn't mean there isn't salvation to be found with a partner. Someone you can share your life with and who completes you.

It's quite possible that all my possibilities have passed but I will remain idealistic. Instead of uncertainty, the friend who asked has reinforced my resolve to continue to be idealistic. To believe that the world is mine to form with my perspective as the building blocks to giving me my preferred perception.

Who knows? Maybe some day, my prince will come.

Lost

There is an odd kind of lost that a person can be, even when they know exactly where they are. It is the kind of feeling that leaves you wondering your purpose, whilst the whole time seeking it.

When I think of being lost, there are flashbacks to childhood. Wandering off in a supermarket while my parents were doing grocery shopping. Wondering if I would ever find them again. The gaining panic as each aisle revealed they still were not there. Going to the last place they were and not having the relief of finding them. There is that panic that comes with being lost and thinking you may never be found. It is not the most rational feeling but it feels real. Of course, you will escape this currently black hole. You'll climb out from the bottomless pit with dirty fingernails and all the wiser. You will be found again.

The trick is hanging on to the knowledge that it won't outlast you. That you are stronger than the darkness. That you aren't trying to find the light and that's because you are the light.

Hold on.

My Emily

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

by Emily Dickinson

Gentleness

“Nothing is so strong as gentleness, nothing so gentle as real strength” -- St. Francis de Sales

Analytics Fail

For those who are using blogger and change their theme: Don't be a n00b like me and forget to re-add the google analytics tags for your blog. I forgot and lost at least a week of data. That's not the end of the world on my personal blog but it could be if you are out there and care.

The Carriage

This is pure awesome. xkcd mashed with my favourite angsty girl poet. Love it!

Are you anyone outside of the Holodeck?

Everyone knows what Twitter is. My sister described using it as similar to watching TV - a form of entertainment. She isn't on Twitter. I doubt she ever will be. She likes to live in the real world and although she understands others do use it, it simply isn't her thing. My sister is highly educated, articulate, extremely driven and a very secure individual. There are many days when I turn to her for advice, support and sometimes a good slap of sense. Social networking simply isn't her thing. That's good with me. I'm not quite sure whose thing it is.

After this conversation with my sister, I started wondering if there is a type of person who embraces this online world. The mostly intangible, often unreal, sometimes ephemeral locked-down self-controlled utopia that is an online life.

There are many people willing to discuss this idea online. I got many reactions to questions about what drives us and makes us live partly at least, an existence made up of electrons and the perception of only two degrees of separation. People I asked on Twitter sat in two camps - those who didn't see themselves as living that life; and those who were quite defensive about me analysing it. I myself, have frequently fallen in to the latter.

My whole life, being a geek has been a bad thing. To want to spend more time with a machine than a person is often looked upon as lacking social skills or not valuing human interaction. Of course, that is complete bull. Me wanting to write code all night or spend hours reading about niche areas of interest does not a freak make. In fact, it should be clearly delineated that being a geek is not a term interchangeable with freak, misanthrope or anti-social. Often these are labels thrust upon other members of society that do not portray a normal expected exterior.

An author of a book I read when I was 22 years old, which changed the way I saw people said it best: "Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal." -- Albert Camus

Geekdom has changed of late. Maybe it was the dotcom boom connecting geekiness with brains making money. Lots of money. Money is good. If you make it then you are good. Simple logic. We are simple creatures. Money makes a lot of behaviour acceptable. Paris Hilton is the poster girl for this argument. In fact, Paris Hilton has so much money that what she does is not just acceptable but a cool thing to emulate.

So being a geek became more acceptable. Then, social media came along and every Steve, Bill and Ada who could use a computer to create a Facebook, Twitter and tumblr account started to identify as a geek. As a geek this became quite confusing as I did not identify with this new crowd. They spoke lots of buzz words and made that good stuff - money - off of talking about web stuff but they thought a left fold referred to to something to do with their dry cleaning.

At first I screamed and accused them of masquerading as geeks. I wanted my gang name back. They should wear their own colours. Slowly, I realised that the meaning of geek had changed and the gang was bigger. Thing is, it's not really a exclusive group you can identify with when everyone is allowed in. Maybe Groucho Marx was right when he said "I don't care to belong to a club that accepts people like me as members."

It may feel like a tangent but there is a point here. It wasn't geeks that I was looking at when I entered a room of Twitterati. Yes, this is a real term. Online definitions define it as people who use Twitter but it's more than that. The Twitterati is the upper echelon of those who frequent that social networking site. In each town, city, country and even the world, there are people who tweet as celebrities. Without the use of bots or follower gathering tools, these individuals have amassed a pipers worth of loyal followers. These followers listen to what they say and agree or disagree publicly depending on the emotive response required from their leader. Followers follow and he or she leads. They copy and retransmit what this powerful person says over and over again so that other followers will see and join the fold. This is called Retweeting. In fact on Twitter, the power of your retweeted voice defines the span of your influence.

Notice how I did not say depth? I used span because I believe this is a shallow and fleeting power when it is removed from it's context. Next time you think of retweeting someone, instead stop someone in your office and say "blah blah said this" and see what the reaction is. Is that power? Is that deep and lasting influence? I'm not sure. Not saying it isn't but it would be interesting to explore the idea.

I'm a geek and in most situations there exists a Star Trek episode or analogy that will help explain any complex idea. If that fails then Hitchhiker's Guide of the Galaxy has everything. In this case, the best comparison to Twitter and it's power that I can find is that of the Holodeck on the Enterprise-D, in Star Trek: TNG. The holodeck uses replicator technology to create things that a real person can touch, feel and interact with. Those things can be mere everyday objects to complex life forms like human beings. Anything that can be replicated is fair game on the holodeck. With enough data giving a simple description, an item to an entire mapping and generation of a planet can be created. Real people enter the holodeck and interact with other real people or fictional characters. They can take on any persona and interact with the environment in any way they choose - be that actively as a participant changing the environment; passively as a watcher; or either at different times.

The thing is that the tangible things, creatures, objects and people created on the holodeck only exist there. Real people can come and go but once the hologram attempts to leave the holodeck, it will cease to exist outside of the range of holo-emitters (those things that create the hologram).

Twitter and social networking can be like this. This is not to say that real friendships, business and other real life rippling effects can't come of it. In fact, there is plenty real that happens in real life (IRL) that is created in the intangible and unreal world of online social networking.

What I think is fleeting and not as solid without it's holo-emitters is how powerful a Twitter person is in the real world, outside of Twitter. People get upset when I say it but unless you really have thousands of people following your every move when you walk down the street like a quasi-Michael Jackson (RIP) then you aren't "all that" outside of your tweet stream.

There have been many occasions when I've met people who are shocked when myself and others have not heard of them on Twitter. Several men have told me how many followers they have and waited for me to ooh and ahh with glee. To be honest, most of the people I follow on Twitter are either people I know IRL, people I want to know or those who amuse me. Sometimes, they are all of these things.

It means little or nothing to me if you are big on the holodeck. I don't have a Twitter status to brag about so that might be thrown at me. That's fine. What I do want to know is if you guys see it as important and real.

Does your Twitter status and ranking follow you in to the real world? Is the line between the two blurred or non-existent? Is who you are online, part of who you really are?

I'm interested.

Quote Me Tweet Me Kiss Me Beat Me

"After all, all he did was string together a lot of old well-known quotations."
-- H.L. Mencken on Shakespeare

One Liners

It is easy enough to be twitty. Yes, that is witty on Twitter. People think there is such limitation to being forced to sum it up in 140 characters but they are wrong. You actually have 120 characters so that you can be retweeted (your tweet copied in to someone else's tweet) and it isn't actually that hard.

Say it. Don't explain it. Own it.

What is actually difficult is writing an entire blog post with a beginning , middle and end. Holding the readers attention is much harder when it involves scrolling. I used to be thrilled when I saw a random tweet retweeted over and over again by a hundred people but now I feel very meh. It often takes no effort and there is little reward in praise for an off the cuff remark. Not saying that a speedy retort isn't brilliant but it's passing. Lost in the stream. Giggleworthy but not noteworthy.


Twitter killed the video star

For a while there, there was nothing to blog about because everything was half exclaimed on twitter. It was a lot like standing on a wooden box and calling out the headlines for the local rag. You get the idea that something is going on and you think that you should read more about it but that doesn't always happen. Just like a low cut top, the promise is all there is for most people.

I'm not going to let Twitter silence me with all my own noise.

Summarise in 140 characters or less

Must blog more and give substance. That means tweeting less.

Recover

Imagine if everything you ever did in your life amounted to nothing because for 6 months of your time on Earth negated it all.

At the beginning of last year, I was the sickest I have ever been in my life. If I'm granted no other wish while I live, may I have this one. The wish that I will never see as dark a time and feel as much pain in my soul as I did then.

Through it all, I tried to hang on to my work. Ines told me to work through it and that would help me focus and deal. Lindsay said that anti-depressants would take the edge off and I would then be able to cope. In the end, it was my mother who was right. She gave me a place to go and rest where my existence was peaceful and my soul had the time it needed to heal.

Coming back to Sydney has taken a strength that I never truly thought that I possessed. For all the years since I learned to read, I have lived in books with magical tales of amazing people who faced struggles that none of us would surely survive and they damn well survived them. My path to 2009 was quite a tranquil one. Life went as planned by my parents and then my ruling husband and I plodded along it sublimely happy.

Then reality struck. The hardships that I only read of came to visit. They stayed as unwelcome visitors and would not leave me. In the end, I packed up all my belongings and went away to the one home I knew I would always have. Over the last 9 months in Darwin, I have tried and failed and tried and succeeded and then tried and failed again. There was a point I reached when I realised that it was time to go and try again but in Sydney. Oh Sydney, the place where I did not only fail but watched the life I had wash down a vomit filled Surry Hills drain. There was no way in hell that I was going to let the past defeat me... to scare me away from the life I want and the way I wish to be. Who I am, I guess.

Today marks one week back in my old stomping grounds. In this manic city, it feels like a life time has passed in only 7 days. I've succeeded, celebrated, rejoiced, cried, been picked up, loved, hated, ignored, kicked and finally failed.

The option of running back to Darwin has entered my mind. Will I ever get a job and a chance to work again in this town? Will people forgive me for the horror that was my last six months living in Sydney, last year? Will anyone ever understand how hard it is to try again when you know you stuffed up big time?

If your life has fallen apart, really really fallen apart at one stage in your existence then you will understand what I am saying. All I want is a chance. A chance to stand on over a decade of proving I am a great engineer and a good person. A chance to make up for the time when I could hardly find the strength to get out of bed.

The problem with this world is that we are all pretending that we are ok. A lot of people aren't. I am one of the few lucky people to say that I have had the chance to truly get to know myself and like who I am. I'm not pretending to be ok because the truth is, I'm pretty damn well. Life will kick and trip me but I will persist. One day, I will be back at my best. That day is not far away.

The people - be they friends; employers; strangers; or whoever I meet - who give me a chance now will benefit from the even more amazing person I will be when I fully hit my stride again.

Those who choose not to take a chance and turn away are going to miss out. Life is there for the taking but it belongs to those of us who risk appearing ok and actually strive to be better than that.

On the cusp of this difficult week of adjustment and the good week that lies ahead, I will keep going on in a positive direction. Upward and onwards.

Stick around.

Starting Sydney

When you return to the place where it all went wrong, there is a very good chance that you can fall back in to old habits and watch it all go wrong again. The thing is that life is not something for me to watch happening to myself, like rubbernecking a multi-car pile up.

Last night, I celebrated my 34th birthday with a bunch of Sydney friends. It was a typical crazy night that leaves us with plenty of stories and much to deny. There were glamourous shoes on beautiful people, who were saying intelligent things in sophisticated accents. The French champagne flowed freely like the shouts of laughter in retort to someone's witty comment. The extroverts took their positions, claiming their audience and executing tried and true enchantments to hold the watchers captive.

When this is the world you are used to living in, it is very easy to collapse back in to your usual role. The one that people know and almost expect. The closest thing I can compare it to is getting dumped by a big wave, in to the hard sandy bottom of a beach. You can struggle and fight and push up and refuse to swallow the water but the wave is king and it is going to take you down with it. Slamming in to soft sand still hurts. Being winded is never nice. The wave takes you where it always takes you.

My friend Cathie McGinn said to me this morning... "I think you can live a new life in a familiar city." She does have a way with words. One of those people who you can blabber on and on to for five sentences with all the wrong punctuation and brain dump disorganisation of a forming thought and she will summarise succinctly in response. You know she isn't just listening to you but also hearing you.

My life is blessed with these sage like people who for some unknown reason are willing to spend time with me... this jagged little pill. I've always said that you can best judge a person by the company they keep. Your pedigree is the sum of the quality of your friends and the depth of your friendships with them.

To escape the wave and avoid getting sucked in and body slammed, this chapter of my life must be approached in a different way. No more talk of things "happening to me" but instead more talk of "making decisions". Less thinking of regrets and more living life in a way that leaves me respecting who I am.

These are 3 things that I vow to do to make life different:

1. Take life slowly. Absorb each moment and take from it only what is worthwhile and positive. Mistakes will be made. There will be failures but that is a normal part of the journey. Being mindful of each step will allow for better decisions and more favourable life outcomes.
   
   
2. Respect yourself and others. Give the same consideration to yourself as you do to others. Be aware of boundaries and limits with each different person. Actively show that people are important and valuable. Do not take anyone for granted. Set boundaries and limits for yourself and honour them.
   
   
3. Improve your mind. Spend more time reading, learning and listening. This life is short and there is so much to do and know. Chose carefully what you will spend your time absorbing and focus on goals that will bring you closer to a beautiful mind.

Wish me luck and remind me of this if I start surfing that wave again.

Grrrrrrr

Of late, I have started many conversations and left my friends pondering "What is this thing Beauty?" There have been answers; suggestions; theories; disapproval; disagreement; confusion; and much silence on the topic.

The first definition you get when you google it is...

Beauty: the qualities that give pleasure to the senses.

I like that definition but it leaves so much open to interpretation. That is the point though. Beauty is open to interpretation. What I find beautiful is not necessarily what you will find it to be. Instead of searching for a definition or an equation, I should have been trying to work out what you do when you find it.

Have you ever seen three Pomeranians chase a kitten? They run and bark. The kitten runs for it's life. The pom poms spread out and circle it. The kitten stands still and puffs up it fur to look as scary as possible. The doggies move in. They have done it, caught the kitten. Then they look at each other and think "what do we do now?" The oldest and wisest dog and pack leader decides that the best plan is the lick the kitten. He licks it. The kitten holds still. The pack of dogs happily grooms the kitteh. The cat learns that you don't have to fear the dogs. They just want to play and then lick you.

What the hell is Damana talking about?

Well, beauty is the kitten. She's often a little unaware of what the pursuers want and feels a little insecure. They come at you in groups. They approach alone. They pursue. Beauty isn't sure why they are and tries to accept and deal with it. When beauty is finally caught, she stands there wondering what will happen next. An experienced pursuer knows that this is the time that you show her that you like her, so she knows it is going to be ok.

I know so many beautiful women who are actually stunning on the outside and lovely on the inside but they have no idea. They stand there wondering what you all really want from her, if anything. We often look at beautiful people with brilliant minds and assume they know they are amazing and that we love them. The lesson the alpha Pomeranian teaches us is that it's best to tell her why. Tell her it's ok. It's not necessary to lick anyone. Thought I should head that one off early.

If you know someone who you consider stunning, beautiful, hot or amazing then you should tell her so. Odds are she isn't as aware of it as you think.

Be your inner alpha Pomeranian.

Going Tidal

There are rolling moments.
There are vastly significant occasions.
There are those waves of unspeakable sadness.

Three things happened in the last two months that changed the tide of my life. Maybe you can take something from this if you are looking at changing direction.

10 Days in Surry Hills
Around a month ago, I spent ten days in Surry Hills. It used to be my neighborhood. Luckily, I am gifted with a good friend who lives there at the moment and is willing to tolerate me stealing her couch for periods of time. There is only one rule - Don't leave things in the way of the path to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Oops, I broke that rule this time. Sorry A.

During my time there, I got to see my closest friends multiple times. It was also my chance to meet a lot more new people and walk away with a new friend or two. There were a few people who I clicked with and quite a few who either bored the hell out of me or ended up being not what they promised to be. Oddly enough, being the kind of person that is "what you see is what you get" means that I often expect that of everyone else. Of course, this is not as naive as it sounds. I guess, I expect the best of people and like to respect that they are who they say they are.

Those ten days changed the way I saw the world, people in it and most importantly... myself...

If you go out and meet a whole lot of people and walk away with one friend then you've done brilliantly.


Selling the Lawn
The second world rocking thang was the lawn sale that Mum and I put on. It took three days to set up and 5 hours for the neighbors and crazy lawn-sale-aholics to clean us out. It was not the selling that changed me. I mean, getting rid of all that stuff I'd accumulated over the last decade was freeing but it wasn't quite that. It was the Friday night before the sale that did it. Unpacking the Christmas decorations that I'd collected and been given as presents over the years was bloody difficult. There were tears... gasps... and finally a self-inflicted bitch slap. That is when I learned another thing about life...

It's just stuff. It can be replaced. It doesn't make you who you are.



Sporting Analogies Aside
The third was a moment. It came and went before I even realised it had happened. After coming back from a night of indoor beach volleyball, feeling awesome from the exercise, socialising and endorphin rush, Mum pointed something out. She said "You always liked sport. You were always good at it."

That is when I realised that I had surrounded myself with people who didn't like sport (individual or team) and it became too anti-social for me to continue with it. Now that person is not around, I can go back to enjoying having an active and social outlet that suits me.

The realisation here was...

Remember what made you happy when you were younger and go back to doing that. We are more honest with ourselves as children than we ever will be as adults.


That is it. Those three things helped me find direction. Now I haz it.

Presents Presence

People have been asking what I want for my birthday. I'd prefer your company at one of the Festival of Damana events. If you feel you must get me a present then something virtual is the best bet. I've just ridded myself of all my possessions and minimised my life. No more "stuff" is needed.

iTunes vouchers are the best option, if you must.

My 34th Birthday Cake

Maria of Made by Maria, baked me a 3D Tetris cake and I love it! It was a huge hit. It tasted delicious and looked fabulous. Made my night.

Do talk to Maria if you need a cake. She has great prices and is an artist.

When you simply need me

My good friend David K sent me this picture of a printer at his work. Awse!

Unhelpful Thinking

We all go through a whole lot of bad situations in our lives. There are the really horrid ones that you doubt that you will even survive and then... shock horror... you do. Unless you go and jump off a 42 metre high building (yes, that's the minimum certain fatality height) then you should be ok. Ruling out accidents, freaks of nature and bad company, you are left as the one thing that can hurt you.

We have all seen it. The friend who is so expectant of the Universe ganging up against them, along with Gaia, the Grim Reaper and the most evil of all - the ATO. Every single little thing that happens is awful and was bound to happen to them. They focus so hard on it that when it happens, they are almost happy.

Do you remember that song by Garbage that starts with the line: "I'm only happy when it rains"? That is what it is to watch these people in action. The funniest thing about this is that I watched one person do this so often that the only thing that could change her mindset was going to cognitive therapy and finding out that "the universe being out to get you" is a form of negative thinking. There are ten main types of negative thought. It took one look at the list to make that girl aware of the fact that the first thought to enter your mind is not always the right one.

That silly girl was me. She is much nicer to herself now. Very positive and kind. She has her moments but on the whole, that thinking has stopped.

Here is an excerpt from the Happiness Institute's "Unhelpful Thinking" publication.

1. Overgeneralisation: Coming to a general conclusion based on a single event or one piece of evidence. If something bad happens once, you expect it to happen again and again. Such thoughts often include the words “always” and “never”.
   E.g.
   I forgot to finish that project on time. I never do things right.
   He didn’t want to go out with me. I’ll always be lonely.
   
2. Filtering (Selective Abstraction): Concentrating on the negatives while ignoring the positives. Ignoring important information that contradicts your (negative) view of the situation.
   E.g.
   I know he [my boss] said most of my submission was great but he also said there were a number of mistakes that had to be corrected...he must think I’m really hopeless.
   
3. All or Nothing Thinking (Dichotomous Reasoning): Thinking in black and white terms (e.g., things are right or wrong, good or bad). A tendency to view things at the extremes with no middle ground.
   E.g.
   I made so many mistakes. If I can’t do it perfectly I might as well not bother.
   I won’t be able to get all of this done, so I may as well not start it.
   This job is so bad...there’s nothing good about it at all.
   
4. Personalising: Taking responsibility for something that’s not your fault. Thinking that what people say or do is some kind of reaction to you, or is in some way related to you.
   E.g.
   John’s in a terrible mood. It must have been something I did.
   It’s obvious she doesn’t like me, otherwise she would’ve said hello.
   
5. Catastrophising: Overestimating the chances of disaster. Expecting something unbearable or intolerable to happen.
   E.g.
   I’m going to make a fool of myself and people will laugh at me.
   What if I haven’t turned the iron off and the house burns down.
   If I don’t perform well, I’ll get the sack.
   
6. Emotional Reasoning: Mistaking feelings for facts. Negative things you feel about yourself are held to be true because they feel true.
   E.g.
   I feel like a failure, therefore I am a failure.
   I feel ugly, therefore I must be ugly.
   I feel hopeless, therefore my situation must be hopeless.
   
7. Mind Reading: Making assumptions about other people’s thoughts, feelings and behaviours without checking the evidence.
   E.g.
   John’s talking to Molly so he must like her more than me.
   I could tell he thought I was stupid in the interview.
   
8. Fortune Telling Error: Anticipating an outcome and assuming your prediction is an established fact. These negative expectations can be self-fulfilling: predicting what we would do on the basis of past behaviour may prevent the possibility of change.
   E.g.
   I’ve always been like this; I’ll never be able to change.
   It’s not going to work out so there’s not much point even trying.
   This relationship is sure to fail.
   
9. Should Statements: Using “should”, “ought”, or “must” statements can set up unrealistic expectations of yourself and others. It involves operating by rigid rules and not allowing for flexibility.
   E.g.
   I shouldn’t get angry.
   People should be nice to me all the time.
   
10. Magnification/Minimisation: A tendency to exaggerate the importance of negative information or experiences, while trivialising or reducing the significance of positive information or experiences.
    E.g.
    He noticed I spilled something on my shirt. I know he said he will go out with me again, but I bet he doesn’t call.
    Supporting my friend when her mother died still doesn’t make up for that time I got angry at her last year.

Do you think like this? I did and still do sometimes. You have to identify that these are negative thoughts and learn to negate them by using techniques like evidence gathering and safe checking.

My suggestion is that if these thoughts dominate your thinking then you might benefit from similar cognitive therapy to what I had. It's hard work to change how you think. When you start, it's tiring to even try but try you must.

Actually, Yoda said it best: "Do or do not. There is no try". I always liked him better than Garbage anyway.

Love the way you lie

Although this song rips at my heart, I can't stop listening to it. It's too much like my marriage. It will pass.

Love the way you lie by Rihanna and Eminem
Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that's alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that's alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

I can't tell you what it really is
I can only tell you what it feels like
And right now there's a steel knife
In my windpipe
I can't breathe
But I still fight
While I can fight
As long as the wrong feels right
It's like I'm in flight
High of a love
Drunk from the hate
It's like I'm huffing paint
And I love it the more that I suffer
I sufficate
And right before im about to drown
She resuscitates me
She fucking hates me
And I love it
Wait
Where you going
I'm leaving you
No you ain't
Come back
We're running right back
Here we go again
It's so insane
Cause when it's going good
It's going great
I'm Superman
With the wind in his bag
She's Lois Lane
But when it's bad
It's awful
I feel so ashamed
I snap
Who's that dude
I don't even know his name
I laid hands on her
I'll never stoop so low again
I guess I don't know my own strength

Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that's alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that's alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

You ever love somebody so much
You can barely breathe
When you're with them
You meet
And neither one of you
Even know what hit 'em
Got that warm fuzzy feeling
Yeah them chills
Used to get 'em
Now you're getting fucking sick
Of looking at 'em
You swore you've never hit 'em
Never do nothing to hurt 'em
Now you're in each other's face
Spewing venom
And these words
When you spit 'em
You push
Pull each other's hair
Scratch, claw, bit 'em
Throw 'em down
Pin 'em
So lost in the moments
When you're in 'em
It's the rage that took over
It controls you both
So they say it's best
To go your separate ways
Guess that they don't know ya
Cause today
That was yesterday
Yesterday is over
It's a different day
Sound like broken records
Playin' over
But you promised her
Next time you'll show restraint
You don't get another chance
Life is no Nintendo game
But you lied again
Now you get to watch her leave
Out the window
Guess that's why they call it window pane

Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that's alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that's alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

Now I know we said things
Did things
That we didn't mean
And we fall back
Into the same patterns
Same routine
But your temper's just as bad
As mine is
You're the same as me
But when it comes to love
You're just as blinded
Baby please come back
It wasn't you
Baby it was me
Maybe our relationship
Isn't as crazy as it seems
Maybe that's what happens
When a tornado meets a volcano
All I know is
I love you too much
To walk away though
Come inside
Pick up your bags off the sidewalk
Don't you hear sincerity
In my voice when I talk
Told you this is my fault
Look me in the eyeball
Next time I'm pissed
I'll aim my fist
At the dry wall
Next time
There will be no next time
I apologize
Even though I know it's lies
I'm tired of the games
I just want her back
I know I'm a liar
If she ever tries to fucking leave again
I'mma tie her to the bed
And set the house on fire

Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that's alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that's alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

Alone

Don't be afraid of being alone. It is just hanging out with yourself.

My most reteweeted Tweet recently

"Never believe a man who tells you that you are enchanting, unless you live in a fairy tale and he is the narrator. #lifelessons"

-- Damana Madden

Momentus Moments

When I arrived in Darwin, I unpacked all my computer gear first. Laptops, hard drives, routers, hubs, routers, modems, gaming consoles, hand-held games devices and everything else collected over years of geekiness. With that came the rats nest of cables for networks, power and machine to machine connectivity.

With all the spare time that I had ahead of me, I decided to sort stuff out and re-establish that level of order that only someone with OCD can truly understand. Before life went to poo, I was very ordered and organised. There was a place or everything and a moment for it all to exist in. Then

and... well, read all my previous posts if you missed it.

On Friday the 30th of July, I went upstairs, dug out and dusted off my Apple Time Capsule. For those who don't know, it's purpose is to act as a drive to backup my Mac every few hour or so. That way, if any of my devices fail then I have an easy to restore backup. In the past, it has saved my electronic soul on a few occasions. Setting up new machines has been a breezy dreamy chocolate-coated easy occasion.

Who cares? I do. There was this huge mental block there. Something that started when I arrived at my Mum's house and continued for a long seven months. I just didn't have the get up and go to get up and go and set the damn Time Capsule up. It seemed so hard and impossible at the best of times. Of course, I knew it would take me plugging in the power and an Ethernet cable and that was it. Oh yeah, and turning on the Time Machine software on my laptop. How hard is that?

With my past state of mind, it seemed heavier than a train to lift; tougher than a mountain to move; and harder than water to breathe.

I did it though.

Damn, that's a huge achievement. I celebrate all the good things that happen these days. This is one of those moments when it hits you

that you've changed... recovered... healed to the point of usefulness again. It has been a long time coming.


Take that depression! Take that ex-husband! Take that world!

Holy shit!

Life's journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting "...holy shit...what a ride!!!

-- courtesy of Dave Cameron

Bubbles

"I only drink Champagne when I'm happy, and when I'm sad. sometimes I drink it when I'm alone. when I have company, I consider it obligatory. I trifle with it if I am not hungry and drink it when I am. otherwise I never touch it - unless I'm thirsty" -- Lily Bollinger

Dear Friend

Dear friend,

I hope this letter finds you well. I write it on the upward swing of my current mood tide. The last week or so has been particularly difficult, especially in that we are not able to speak. Since things shall continue this way, I decided that a letter to the air is in order. If you never read it, that is ok. Having written it will help with my turmoil.

We always spoke about all kids of crap, from time machines to the perfect breakfast. It helped me more than I ever knew. It distracted me from the ache of living. Kept me laughing when breathing was not so easy.

You never miss anyone. It is what will always make you autonomous. As you know, I miss everyone and that will always make me seek out people. I keep looking but have not yet found the conversation we had, with someone else. Hopefully, it will pop up somewhere soon.

I miss you.

Love, Mana