It ain't over till it's over...
Posted Aug 12, 2002
My ex has decided to sell the house we shared and move to Ireland. This is 100% good news for him, and if the truth be told it is also good news for me. But it still leaves me feeling a little unsettled. We keep in touch a lot, and though we are much happier apart than we were for the last years we were together, I will still miss him when he goes. It feels much more final to know he won't even be in the same country.
I am not sure how I feel. In part I feel sore that he is in a happy relationship, and I am not. I guess I feel that he is doing better at this divorce thing than I am.
It will be better when the house is sold and he has gone.
Posted Aug 2, 2002
Off on my hols at last - spending a week doing yoga and meditation in Spain.
Who am I kidding? I will sleep through the lot!
Having a life again
Posted Jul 28, 2002
I only have three days to go on this contract. It has been a good one, full of learning curves and I have done very well on it. But it almost exhausted me.
Next stop is a week in Spain doing yoga and meditating. Then a fortnights sleep, which will be bliss.
No news of my next contract, but I will start hustling towards the end of August and see where the wind blows me next.
It is a good life, but it takes its toll.
Running on Empty
Posted Jul 8, 2002
The problem is that I am scarily good at pacing myself. This means that I can give 120%, 130% even 150%, so long as I know how long I have to do it for. As a result I am a fabulous person to have on a project (any project: moving house, implementing a new website, prtting on a play).
But the moment that someone says I have to do it for longer - even if the pressure drops back to 90%, then the mechanism has to readjust.
I was due to finish my contract after scary-hard work at the end of last month. About a week into last month, we were told we could ease back on the pressure, because had until the end of July. Which sounds nice. But changing gear and pace that late on is hard.
So now we have been working at 80% or 90% for 4 weeks, and I only have another 3 to go, but I am running on empty.
So, so you think you can tell
Posted Jun 9, 2002
I have wanted to see Pink Floyd live since the mid 90s when I missed the Division Bell tour in 1994. The itch was partially scratched when I saw David Gilmour in the grounds of The Alexandra Palace on a hot day in June 1996.
In fact I saw two living gods in one day.
I had gone to the Ally Pally to hear the Dalai Lama speak, which was in itself a formative experience. And in the afternoon there was a Free Tibet festival. It was small - only about 1000 people, and very Engish. Like a village fete. In London. With Tibetans.
We ambled around buying things and eating icecream and enjoying the heat and the sunshine, and settled down in front of the stage.
And half way through the afternoon David Gilmour came on stage and did a 20 minute set, including Wish You Were Here.
Jane said 'What would Mr Ben say if he knew he was missing seeing David Gilmour?'
'"You b*****d"' I said. 'He would just say it over and over again'.
And sure enough, when I went home and the former Mr Ben asked me what sort of day I had had, he stood in the hall and said 'You b*****d! You b*****d! You b*****d!'. Tee hee.
But that was the nearest I had ever come to seeing or hearing Pink Floyd live.
So when I saw that Roger Waters was touring this year, I rang around my friends and rustled up one who wanted to see them, and another who was happy to try it out. And in February I got three tickets for the Birmingham date at the end of June.
So far so happy. So far, so wonderful in fact.
I was moving, so I very carefully did not put my ticket on the kitchen noticeboarad. I put it in my pile of 'paperwork to do'.
This is already a long story, and to cut it short, it turned out that I cannot go to the concert at the end of June, but that I could go to the one in Munich at the beginning of June. So I cast about my friends for people who would like to use the ticket, and eventually offloaded two of them.
All well and good. I get the ticket back from the person who was going because it would be a new experience, and check out my 'to do' folder to get mine.
It isn't there.
It isn't in the filing file either.
Or the house-move file.
Or the accountant's file.
In fact, it isn't in the flat at all. I have turned the flat over looking for it, and I know exactly what is with it. There is a photo of Rob, John and Eric in an Irish Bar in Stockholm, and the printouts of my poems. I know this, because these are the only things I cannot find in the flat. I have everything else, some of it in triplicate.
In the meantime, a colleague of mine in Munich says he would like to go to the Munich gig too. So I suggest he buys tickets. He is not a Nike boy, and by the time a month has passed the Munich gig has sold out.
I don't worry about this too much. I have no problem with going there on the night and buying a ticket from touts.
Herr Colleague eventually manages to get some tickets as a late release, so it finally looks as if I will be going to the Munich gig early in June.
Meanwhile I still can't find the Birmingham ticket.
So I phone the NEC box office, and ask for their help. They agree to send a letter to the person who is using my ticket, and tell me I have to send one to them too, authorising them to pick up a duplicate at the box office on the night. A palava, but doable. So even though I have lost my ticket, my friends can still go.
So there I am, late afternoon, early June, ready to rock and roll, (well ready to rock, anyway), and Herr Colleague says that he cannot go to the gig that night because he has too much work on.
To be perfectly honest, this does not trouble me. Herr Colleague is, well, a colleague, and in some ways I prefer going to concerts by myself, I don't have to ask 'how was it for you?' afterwards for a start.
So I put away my laptop, and clear the crap out of my handbag, putting my diary, and cheque books and flight tickets into the cupboard and lock it, and off we go to the Olympiahalle.
We get there, and I don't have my ticket.
It is locked in the cupboard at work with my flight tickets.
So I take a taxi back to work, say 'Walten Sie, bitte, swei minuten?' and dash into the office, which is full of my laughing colleagues and collect the tickets, and back we drive 'Schnelster Weg, bitte' to the Olympia Halle.
I do have to say that it was worth it, and the only thing I regret is that the Olympiahalle gig is now in my past, while the NEC gig is still in my friends' future.
Have a good evening guys.