The National Lottie

We need a change. A change of leadership, attititide and the law. If you don’t feel strongly enough to get out an vote and try to make a difference on 5th June, watch this video and then decide. If you don’t know about the candidates in your area, find out.

It’s time for a change.

(more…)

…go see this play.

SU and PERB!

Full review.

I’ve lost another shoe.

In a 900sq foot apartment.

I could shoe an army of one legged soldiers at this stage and I’m beginning to wonder if my house guests are just screwing with me.

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear

The aftermath.

And more.

I’m not the only one getting a makeover.

I get far too much satisfaction out of this.

And something new too.

I watch people sometimes, strangers in groups, friends as we gather and I wonder. I wonder what their stories are or knowing that little bit more, I wonder how they can walk around with the weight of what they know pressing down on them.

On that particular night, I took the seat in the corner, expertly positioned with a view of the bar, the door and both tables. I sat taciturn, speaking only to my drink and considered how long I could remain here before it would be considered rude. The bodies began to arrive and the nine yards of my vision became crowded and loud and it wasn’t long before for the shots began. And boy did they begin.

It’s a mistake we make, thinking its words that tell us everything. I read somewhere that glances are the heavy artillery of the flirt and it’s so very true. So much can be conveyed in the flicker of an eye-lid, a turn of the head and yet nothing is committed to record. Everything can be denied. There’s no ghost of data floating around in the ether or the cables and chords. It’s all off the record. Glances are born, die and laid to rest all in an instant and yet they tear through the silence screaming “I have a weakness for you”.

And though we can sit and watch and try interpret – everything is more complicated than we think. We can never ever trace it to its source and risk reproach if we let our imaginations fill in the gaps. Saying that, it’s still fun to sit and watch and wonder.

I made my way onto the DART, nose stuck in the book, bumped into the man standing at the door and then tripped over some feckers bag strap. Don’t leave your bag on the floor woman!

Swearing inwardly I found myself an empty four seater and went back to the final chapters.

“Now there were two men running from the direction of the fire. Both wore yellow slickers and jeans, slickers standing out even in the smoke…”

A tap on my shoulder, “both carried what looked like shot guns” and I reluctantly pulled away. It was the man I had so clumsily knocked out of his standing upon my boarding. I smiled and prepared myself for a scolding on how one should look where they are going when it occurred to me.

A recognition, a spark. The same wild shock of blond floppy hair, check. The same green eyes, check, albeit they were home now to dark shadows underneath. An unfamiliar frown line creased his forehead but it was unmistakable. The man standing before me was my very first boyfriend, now grown and stubbly and smelling slightly of stale whiskey.

Within fifteen minutes we had caught up on 10 years. Discussed work, life, love, holidays, family, the weather and the economy until finally we sat uncomfortably making small talk, waiting for our stations to arrive. We exchanged email addresses and promised to keep in touch.

We shuck hands then hugged awkwardly and as he departed he turned to me and said “That was the longest break-up ever but I’m glad we finally have closure“.

Technically we have been on a “break” since 1997.

25/09/2008

(In the notebook since September last year and neither one of us have “kept in touch”)

I haven’t posted a links post in quite a while so…

The Boy is back and he’s dreaming.

A story where every word begins with W.

Impractical but wonderful.

Sinful, Origami, Paper - After all 3 is the magic number.

Grannies are great for blog fodder.

Mum’s the Word.

This has been sitting in my drafts for ages.

Only in the US -Topic 357 – Tax Information for Parents of Kidnapped Children

You may claim a kidnapped child as your dependent if the following requirements are met:

1. The child must be presumed by law enforcement to have been kidnapped by someone who is not a member of your family or a member of the child’s family, and
2. The child had, for the taxable year in which the kidnapping occurred, the same principal place of abode as the taxpayer for more than one-half of the portion of such year before the date of kidnapping.

If both of these requirements are met, the child may meet the requirements for purposes of determining:

* The dependency exemption
* The child tax credit, and
* Head of household or qualifying widow(er) with dependent child filing status.

This tax treatment will cease to apply as of your first tax year beginning after the calendar year in which either there is a determination that the child is dead or the child would have reached age 18, whichever occurs first.

Other places I have been frequenting this week:

The Demure Lemur

Laughy Kate

Camera Obsessa

And finally, some shameless self promotion.

Amongst the long list of the things I don’t deserve are my wonderful boyfriend and the beautiful leather bound copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray he traipsed across the city in the rain to surprise me with today.

It’s beautiful, soft and smells like sweet burnt cedar oil. The book, not the boy. The boy smells of bergamot and  cononut and writes things inside that make me cry on trains.

And here is the review from last nights show.