liverpool vs. chelsea

to be or not to be.

i liked today a whole lot.

went on a day trip to liverpool with the manager to go meet with ken nelson. we got there early to beat the game traffic...and have a sunday roast (y.u.m.) and watch the game. liverpool/everton. 2 - nil. WIN.

however, i'm still in the last stages of choosing my allegiance. choosing the british premier league team which shall have my hand and my heart forevermore.

liverpool? or chelsea?

london? or liverpool?

after watching the game in a pub whilst eating glorious food, we headed in the absolute freeeezing cold to parr street studios. sat down with pz and had a cuppa tea. which were actually cups, and individual tea pots and, of course, sugar cubes.

ken arrived, and i like him. i like him a whole lot. and now comes the sorting of details... *sigh* so i shall wait to let the cat out of the bag. but i'm very excited indeed.

played a yamaha piano. and we all just talked about music and how it moves you...

and about the first time i heard the parachutes album.

and how moments like that, when you realise you're doing something good, make you understand you're doing music for the right reasons.

we, then headed back to london, which took far longer than the trip up. we listened to awful music on radio 1. talked about political things... and i liked just listening to another perspective.

i am all cozy in the flat, and my favourite boys are gone. but messages have kept me company... and i'm very sleepy indeed.

i really want to read my book, but i'm not so sure sherlock holmes is a good thing before bed.

the mind reels.

tut tut. feels like home.

it's beginning to look a lot like christmas...

i was just walking down holloway road, and there were christmas lights in the trees. the sun had just gone down, and there was this sweet little glow over everything. and children everywhere were just bouncing along, singing or excitedly talking about christmas. and in the cold, it felt festive for the first time in a really long time.

last night, i laughed more than i've laughed in absolutely ages. my face hurt something fierce! clive, andy, lewis and i went out for a drink at a pub in camden. i was formally introduced to sailor jerry. oh sweet lord. from now on, brandy alexander is my main squeeze, and sailor jerry is my boy on the side. hahahaha. right. so, from there we headed to this funk/soul/jazz club night. and the first band, albeit good...were a bit rigid. lacking the soul factor, i think. but we danced anyway and all sorts of mischief making took place in the back of the club. their set was done, and this guy resembling Fat Joe, came on stage with his bass guitar in a G-unit top. andy and i quickly agreed that this was either about to be really really good, or really really bad. the drummer, this really young looking white boy sits down to the kit, and we just knew. sure enough, he was amazing. actually the whole band was amazing. i couldn't HELP but move. i found myself squealing in the same sort of way i do when i heard jamie cullum frontin' for the first time. or when i saw gabe dixon nashville.

amaaaaaazing. from there, we went to a bowling alley with a dancefloor and 50s & 60s music. glory be. such fun.

the evening ended on the couch, with cuddles and work stories, travel stories and shark stories making me laugh til i nearly pee'd my pants.

perfect.

black friday.

happy belated thanksgiving, loves!

i am thankful for my friends. because i have some beautiful ones.

and i am bursting with thanks for my family.

i had thanksgiving lunch with my grandma yesterday...and dinner was on a virgin atlantic flight.

on top of everything else, it seems i've made a clean sweep of all of those relationships with a "pending" status. and i am pretty sure they're all over. it was incredibly hard to do, but sometimes you just have to stand up for yourself. sometimes that's by quietly getting up and walking out and closing the door behind you. sometimes, that's by sitting down and clearly getting things off of your chest, and as lovingly as possible saying... this can't happen anymore.

nevertheless.

i'm calm. but a little achey.

i'm tired. a little sad.

but a little hopeful.

and still thankful.

this morning, i landed in london with a headache and bleary eyes. and got in the cab to head to clive's and found myself getting more and more nauseated by the second. so i quickly emptied my little urban outfitters free tote that came with a magazine just in case i had to get reacquainted with dinner. awful. thankfully, at that precise moment, the cab driver decided to open the window for a bit. and everything calmed down.

arrived at clive & matt's and have spent the morning thus far, drinking delicious pressed coffee, listening to nme radio and being all internety.

and now, it's time to go make some stories.

taking the cure so i can be quiet whenever i want...

the maccabees are my warm blanket.
radiohead is a lullabye singing my heart to sleep.

kasabian paints my face with gold...
and i'm dancin around like a brave little princess.

and the beatles make me feel like...
well, a bit more like myself.
a grand little mixture of all these things.

one day at a time.
one song at a time.

hope sang in the middle of the night.

I gave away my kisses
And a golden heart
No sooner than I gave it
He’d torn it apart
No reciprocity
No closure to be had
I never knew that I could
Ever feel so bad

When the walls come crashing down
Lifted from the ground
Their arms are all around
Hold tight we’ll soon be found

I lost the one I wanted
Again again again
Once the talks of love and laughter
Now, "lets just be friends"
I held him oh so close
And now it’s lost at sea
Try to escape tonight
and sing oh lonesome me

When the walls come crashing down
Lifted from the ground
Their arms are all around
Hold tight we’ll soon be found

We never saw it coming
There weren’t any signs
All of our hearts exploded
And she lost her mind
A thousand sorries will not heal
Our sinking ship
Sometimes you have to choose
To love when you don’t feel it

When the walls come crashing down
Lifted from the ground
Their arms are all around
Hold tight we’ll soon be found

I wonder if it ever stops hurting
I wonder is it ever enough
I wonder if I’ll really stop loving
I wonder if I can just give up
Black eyed but hopeful I wandered
Over continents and hundreds of lakes
But it always seems there’s somebody better
And I lose right when I’ve raised the stakes

But we hold on
Til the storm is over
And though it seems so long
It won’t last forever

I wonder if the moon is still reaching
Or if I’m building paper rockets and planes
I wonder if the music I’m hearing could
Swallow me up and rescue me from the pain
So I knocked on the door of the author
Of the story that I’m told I am in
I’m just wonderin if it really gets better
Or is there just another really bad end

And he said, hold on
Til the storm is over
And though it seems so long
It won’t last forever
Hold on
We are gonna get over
And it seems so wrong
But it’s getting better

one last little thing.

i'm sorry if this hurts.
(ok no i'm not, really.)
i'm sorry if this offends.
(yes, really.)

but stay the f*** away from my heart.

something good.

Out to play
In a tidal wave
The world came down
In just one day
Holding on to
A busted ship
We can get through all of this

Make something
Make something
Good of this
Tell me something
Tell me true
That it won’t stay like this

Took a bath
In the setting sun
They warned a hurricane
Was gonna come
And I screamed all night
At the blacked out stars
And I begged to know
Just who you are

Make something
Make something
Good of this
Tell me something
Tell me true
That it won’t stay like this

We just sat there
Wringing our hands
Looking at the ashes
Of all our plans
And I need that spirit
that makes it all new
and I’m doubting it all
but I still need you

Make something
Make something
Good of this
Tell me something
Tell me true
That it won’t stay like this

natalie portman.

good heavens. she is unbelievably gorgeous.

well i got something to say, my friends. i will never lay down without a fight.

i've been reading Donald Miller's "A million Miles in a Thousand Years". and i mostly feel like i'm looking in a mirror. or reading about myself. reading about my family...

"Robert McKee put down his coffee cup and leaned onto the podium. He put his hand on his forehead and wiped back his gray hair. He said, "You have to take your character to the place where he just can't take it anymore." He looked at us with a tenderness we hadn't seen in him before. "You've been there haven't you? You've been out on the ledge. The marriage is over now; the dream is over now; nothing good can come from this."
He got louder. "Writing a story isn't about making your peaceful fantasties come true. The whole point of the story is the character arc. You didn't think joy could change a person, did you? Joy is what you feel when the conflict is over. But it's conflict that changes a person."
His voice was like thunder now. "You put your characters through hell. You put them through hell. That's the only way we change."

a couple of pages later:

"...I wasn't numb anymore. I was allowed to feel the brunt of it. The bones penetrated my chest in a sudden rip, emptying a body of blood down my shirt and onto my lap. The blood pooled in the lap of my pants and seeped into the carpet in my hotel room. I clasped my hand over my heart and knelt between the bed and the television and rolled onto the floor and cried out to God a lamenting demand that he would come and save me from the sorrow that, for the immensity of it, I could only attribute to him in the first place. I didn't want to learn whatever it was he wanted to teach me. I cried out to him an angry petititon for rescue. I doubted him and needed him at the same time. God seemed to me, in that moment, a cruel father burning a scar into my skin with his cigarette. And yet I knew he was the only one with the power to make the pain go away."

i understand nothing in this moment.
my heart feels like it's in a coma.
and further, if there was any hope left for love in the romantic sense, i assure you it's dead.
my trust has been shot down within inches of obliteration.
so, good luck with that.
and i hate this year with a passion i can't even begin to express.
i'm tired of being strong.

all at sea.

my heart is broken and seized by icy oceans of fear.
i'm helpless to fix anything.
my well-meaning hands feel useless.

i may shut down now.

when are you coming back?

"i need an eraser."
fumbling around behind curtains i don't care to open.
wouldn't matter, because here comes the fever.
here comes the illness.
the weak sinking into the hollowed hole.
everything goes dark.
clouds of doubt looming to block out the stars.
turn the lights on, please?
or rock me to sleep.
these are my twisted words.
really, yours quite misused.
and yours are lullabies.
and i can't find it...
i can't forget it...
i can't leave it...
"now, hush anxious one," he said
"it fades slow.
it erases, i'm sure.
you'll remember, but soon forget.
it goes.
it surely dies.
now, hush."
and just above a whisper, sang to my constricted muscles...
sang to my heavy heart
sang to my weary lungs
sang to my swollen eyes
sang to the wounds and dressed them with every syllable.
"rest, my love.
rest, now.
sleep comes.
goodnight.
goodnight.
goodnight."

so what if i don't feel it?

what a wonderful weekend.
super busy. very productive.
and beautiful time spent with some of my best friends and favourite sweet hearts.

can i just say, i dont want to go back to feeling lonely.
and i'm real sick of distance getting in the way of almost every blasted good thing that blooms in my world.

cabin fever. [ode to madame fear.]

do you ever look madame fear in the eye and say, "oh no you don't!"
and then, the next thing you know, everything looks like it's about to start crashing in again?
and you think to yourself, " way to go genius! now, why the devil did i feel it necessary to look that wench in the eye and start something? because now, i've bitten off more than maybe i can chew, and i'll be proved wrong. fail!"

or maybe fear is just a genius at painting optical illusions...the ones that say you're going to fail and that all your dreams are never coming true and your hopes are just targets waiting to be dashed from your hands.

and i assure you being stuck in bed for days does nothing but help you to see these illusions more clearly.

because maybe the finances will be just fine after all.
and maybe i need to take my hand away. the one about to push the detinator on something that's really lovely. and maybe i need to just be patient and a little more thoughtful when it comes to these things.
and maybe fear just keeps you down on the floor and turns you into a dogged coward.
and maybe hope isn't held in my hands but written on my heart.
and just maybe i'm not sorry for standing up to these fears and saying,

"i'm scared as hell of you. but i'm not stopping. i am not alone. i will not stop moving."

left. right.

everyone is falling like autumn leaves.
falling in love, i mean.
it's beautiful, watching all of them from here...
flaming hearts setting the whole place ablaze.
and why can't we?

oh yes. i remember. but could we just forget?

if you're feeling what i'm feeling c'mon. all you soul searchin' people c'mon.

i keep telling myself to write something different here. to be a bit more ambiguous. to be a bit more lighthearted... but i can't help it. this is an invisible ear for telling secrets in my own muddled way... for singing secret songs for the first time that only i can hear...

this afternoon i went to see 'a christmas carol'. and cried. well, it IS one of my favourite stories of all time. i've memorized so much of the dialogue, it's just ridiculous, really. i used to sit with the remote in my little blue chair in this very room, when i was 2 years old and watch it. fast forwarding through the dumb commercials, stopping on the barbie and the rockers commercial, and rewinding it to start it all over again. anyway, it certainly isn't my favourite version of the story, but it moved me... and i was giddy in my 3-D glasses. so i'm not complaining.
afterward, dan and i went to kybecca, and started reminiscing childhood stories. school days. which led to highschool/post highschool stories...
and i found myself telling a story i realised i'd never told before.

i'm finding that these last couple of years have been full of these moments. deep hurts rising to the surface, because you thought you'd dealt with them. but no one can teach you how, especially if no one knows. because a lot of them are shrowded in this ridiculous sense of shame. and it isn't until you look back at something that happened 10 years ago, that you realise you've been blaming yourself and taking it out on yourself for 10 years... only because you just didn't know better. you didn't know it wasn't your fault.

yesterday i read something a friend wrote...
"I am ready to fail, and fail LOUDLY, paving my way into a wiser, stronger, humbler tomorrow."
speechless.
"there is no fear in love"

on my way home tonight i saw 7 deer just wandering around in a quiet neighborhood. i'm not sure why this makes me feel better, but it always does. it's just beautiful.

you got to go straight ahead.

"the opposite of love isn't hate... it's fear."

this has been slow dripping into my heart like some kind of IV.
something's healing.
something's changing.
something so good is happening...
and it's nothing to do with anyone.
and everything to do with love himself.
and so somehow it has to do with everything and everyone.

does that even make sense?
it's dangerous. it's not safe.
but it's so so so good.