Half full or half full with a fly in it

Further to last nights entry, I was just now tapping away at the keyboard, and took a sip of my drink. With the water still swilling around my mouth, I looked down into the glass and a fly was on its back legs treading the air. Needless to say, i found the nearest receptacle to spit.....

I got a whole lot of photos printed out the other day, and I'm going to regularly get ones of my trip done. At the moment I'm concentrating on printing off as many of me looking as hot as possible to put in the boy's pocket before he leaves......so he doesn't forget me.

I didn't fall in love with Prague. I was walking down one of the main streets, site of the memorial to Jan Palach, the student who burnt himself to death in Wencelas Square in protest against Communism. And I might have innocently paused and said something to Sally. It couldn't have been anything more aggravating than that. And some big beefy guy, with thick glasses and vacant eyes, he boxed me in the shoulder and kept on walking. It was hard. And I was stunned, and then hopping mad. I contemplated chasing him down the road while screaming freedom at the top of my lungs with a thick scottish brogue. However, I think Sally convinced me that wasn't the most sensible course of action. Later, I would recall reading a fellow blogger's entry about thumb wrestling an unhinged individual into submission when the nutter punched him to the head while he was riding the tube. And that cheered me up considerably....
That wasn't the only reason I didn't love Prague. I found the city cold and grim-faced and haunted.

Shoo fly

I am wilting a little under the summer sun. Actually, there is sun, and then there is a downpour. Today I stood out in the rain in my pjs. It is still so warm.....and tonight i turned off my light and had a bath under the moon. But i am tired of the flies. There are flies swarming around my head when I am trying to eat my dinner. And in the bathroom when I am brushing my teeth. They are smart flies. They wait outside the door and swoop in when you go outside. And they have got stronger. They laugh at you when you spray them with fly spray. They swoop in to get a good big taste of it, slowly building up their resistance and becoming.........flies on steroids.

Like watching out the window from inside a speeding train

On Monday, I went back to that flat to see if I was allergic to the fluffy, snowy cat Vinnie that lives there. I decided that my puffed up eye from the afternoon before must have been a one off, and agreed to move in. There is a huge back lawn. I want to mow lawns and make a garden.

On Tuesday I drove 5 hours and went to prison and shook hands with a convicted paedophile. I'm so small and fresh and sweet looking I didn't even get checked by security. Had my boss cracking up when I called her from inside the visiting cell on my cellphone.

On Friday we won another sex-offence related case. The content has already become distressingly familiar. The juries all look the same. I correctly guessed the verdict by their demeanour when they came into court. They sought out our client across the room, perhaps asking themselves if they had come to the right conclusion? I am adopting a belief system, that I believe at some stage will prove incongruent with honour and integrity and compassion. But I know damn sure what I'll give up on first.

On Saturday I floated on a lilo in a heated mineral pool under a cloudless sky and pretended I knew what it felt like to be at peace. I felt my lungs inflate to full capacity and appreciated the treat. I let unfamiliar hands knead my knotted muscles and wished that I could give myself over to it completely.

Today I watched a film about a 23 year old with daughters aged six and four who lives in a trailer with her husband who is the only boy she has ever kissed. She finds out she has a tumour, a couple of months to live, and writes a list of everything she wants, must, do in that time. She finds a new wife for her husband, makes taped messages for her girls' birthdays until they turn 18, and makes a strange man fall in love with her. At the end of it, I wanted my own mother.

I also found my child-hood diary today. Well, extracts that had survived several vettings to weed out the most tortured. I found letters I wrote to my mother and father, and for my future husband and children. I was 12 or 13 at the time of writing. My achingly naive and idealistic 12 year old self wrote that the letters probably wouldn't be read until at least 2003. I was surprised to see how I apparently had very little in the way of career aspirations at that tender age. I thought I would grow up to be like my mum, who was pregnant with me when she was 21. As cheesy as they were, I was moved to tears. I believe they were written during the dismantling of my family unit as I knew it, and as an attempt to reconstruct some certainty, some security for myself.

I am reading about soul mates at the moment.

Time to move on

I'm considering leaving the 2 batchelors and going and living in the first random flat of my existence. It's reasonably priced, close to work and the girl who is looking for a flatmate works in a beauty salon, which I find quite promising considering the women who I have trusted my bikini line to in the past have always managed to make the experience pleasant.

I was planning on hanging around here a bit longer.....Still, it can't hurt to go and have a look at it.

Bugger.

Going back to work after 3 and a half weeks on holiday is a bugger. Your new car (who is rare as horse rocking shit and runs like a dream and who got raced up and down the country covering over 3,000 kms in our road trip) burning 2 and a half litres in that time, well, that's a bugger. Getting back to work and hearing that half our client's had got themselves locked up over Christmas, actually, i didn't really give a shit about that. The boy finally making good his threats and booking his one way ticket to London for just over a month away, that is, well, it''s shit.

I think 2007 is going to be a lot quieter than 2006. A rediscovering me time. Micro-objectives. I am looking forward to being a junior in my first murder trial next month. I have lots to do and look forward to and be challenged by at work.

Damn, how do you get the balance, the whole package.