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unav
 
serial killer van

a canoe that used to belong to Ray Mears

adventure hat and a banana
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 I was eating black beans and writing tongue-in-cheek nonsense emails.  Except the thing I wrote was true, and I recognized it, and I didn't like it.  Now I've been feeling existential all afternoon, and I still have a load of deadlines to watch zoom by (again).

Poor brain.
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maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea


e.e. cummings 

I love the feeling of this poem.  It's that special beach aloneness that looking out to sea at the end of the world gives you.
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  • working in an office
SO BORED NOW.  It seems to me that five and a bit weeks is too short a time to have tired of something so entirely.
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Especially "Paul", the new Pegg and Frost film.  Also, going to the cinema with a gang of lads, having coffee with friends, and dancing about in red shoes.  And Skype. And free muffins.  Brilliant.

Awesomeness everywhere (plus SIMON PEGG, I *HEART* HIM).
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  • fresh flowers
  • bright days
  • a cup of coffee made just for you
  • the smell of wood
  • smiling
  • noticing the fleeting moment when everything is right in your small corner of the world
     

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On Friday, I drank drinks and ate Indian food with some of the eircom kids.  We all got old! Some people got married! Some more people will get married soon!  We are all still lovely.

On Saturday, I had my hair cut, ate a tasty brunch with Laura,  and went family visiting with my mother.  I topped that off with a delicious meal prepared by my dad and sister, followed by a party where a man told me that I am "the happiest looking person [he had] ever seen".  Mind you, I was at a party, it was about 3am, and I can get very gleeful.

On Sunday, I got up early (again) to see my mother off to France, discussed kitchen cabinets with my father, and then toddled off to what appeared to be THE baby event of the city, the Arlo's birthday party.  I neglected to bring a baby, but kristamm  kindly came to my aid and let me borrow Toast for a while, thus averting the shame of being under accessorized.  At this point, I was in a room full of small children, having had a grand total of about 6 hours sleep since Friday.  Mind you, all the other adults there had probably been working that schedule for at least the last year (bar the folks with the TINY TWINS.  SO SMALL.)  Luckily, all the children present were remarkably charming, but I felt the need to put a certain amount of coffee into myself.

I followed that coffee with, eh, more coffee, and then some cascara at 3FE.  So that's 10 hours sleep since Friday, and plans to go out again tonight.  Today has been a bit more challenging than it really should have.  Coffee is probably the answer, right?  There's knitting in 3FE this evening...

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Seriously.  When I am living right, everything just flows.  I'm incredibly lucky.

I decided before Christmas that I would like a job doing web project management, in the city centre, in an office with big windows and wooden floors.  I saw an ad on a Sunday, applied on Monday, interviewed on Tuesday, interviewed again on Friday, and was offered the job the next week.  The work is interesting, the people are lovely, and I go home at a reasonable hour ever evening.  The floors are parquet.

On Saturday night I realised that I would like to dance again.  Yesterday my old dance teacher asked me whether I'd do a show during the summer.  That gives me six months to get back on form, which is entirely achievable. 

All sorts of things line up, appear, happen serendipitously.  Opportunities present themselves like gifts from the universe. 

When I contrast how I feel and live right now with how I felt a year ago, the difference is amazing.  I should probably write about the journey, but I am not sure that I know how to.  The language that I have feels insufficient, too trite and hippyish and small for what what this feels like.  I wish that I could wrap the feeling up and give it to you all as presents, because it is the best thing that I have.
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The internet is my day-to-day environment again.  I use it, look at it, think about it, make it.  It is amazing.  Yet, I am uneasy with my relationship with the internet, what I bring to it, and what I take from it. I can't quite put my finger on the cause of this discomfort, but I think it is centred around the fact that my personal use of the internet is almost wholely an act of consumption.

I love the internet, and it is an amazing medium and platform.  I just have to find a way to be on it that is more like me.
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