enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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I'll have to beg your forgiveness, before you even read this. :)

I am not very intelligent tonight AT ALL and so I really shouldn't be posting. I suppose it is late-ish back home. (I'm in gruesome, rainy Vancouver.)

I have to say that the hostel is quite satisfactory and nice, but the weather is HORRIFIC.

I mean, it is 7 degrees C and raining. How horrific is that for June???

I was wearing my cute-tastic green dress on the plane and I've had to change into jeans, a brown t-shirt, a sweater and a coat! Actually - funny story - the bus driver this morning in the big zero actually thanked me for wearing that pretty dress. And this security person at the O airport chatted me up over it. Seems that everyone is feeling...green..these days.

Oh, and I'm wearing a daffodil scarf. It totally clashes but whatever. I like it.

So the senior economist was such a pain in the ass today. He spent the whole day when we were not in the air calling his wife and saying over and over and over and over again, "Je t'aime mon amour. Je t'aime....blah blah blah I kiss you I love you I hug you."

I mean, I don't know about you, but I don't really need to call my imaginary boyfriend from 1) Tim H0rton;s; 2) the waiting area; 3) the tarmac; 4) the tarmac again; 5) the baggage area; 6) the bus ticket kiosk; 7) the bus; 8) the bus; 9) the hotel.

I know that he emails back and forth a lot with his wife at work, and now I'm guessing that it is a WHOLE lot.

What a wanker. So he's co-dependent or something. And seriously, I wish he'd shut the hell up about MY life.

Frankly, I think he must just somehow envy my life and want to try to convince himself that his is better. Or to convince me that his is better, so that I feel badly or something??? (Honestly, I only feel badly that there is some woman out there who feels so badly about herself that she has chosen to be married to such a wanker.)

Well, his might be better...if he weren't such a WANKER.

OK. I don't want to talk about that guy anymore. It's annoying. He's annoying.

He's pissed at me at the moment. Instead of taking a cab from the airport I suggested that we take the shuttle. And it turned out by accident that the shuttle dropped me off first and then him off last. (I didn't know, seriously!) So as I got off the bus I heard his trailing voice telling me something about how high his hourly wage is and how much of his time is being wasted. To which I answered, "You haven't done a stitch of work today - you're not on the clock."

Wink. Smile.

Seriously, I did say that. And it's true. And since he's staying at a hotel that will cost the government more than 6 times what it will cost them for my food and accommodation together...I don't feel badly about him being stuck on the shuttle for another 30 minutes. (Next time I'll see him goofing around at the office I'll have to remind him of how high is his hourly wage. ;-))

Anyhow...I had written such a nice entry on the plane and now I think I should transcribe it before going out for sushi!!!! (Sorry about the rant!)

So I'm now on the plane from Toronto to Vancouver. Not that that is the material point - I'm not very interested in this flight, this trip. I ought to be - life is now :) - but somehow it's not where I want to be at the moment. BUt where is it that I would rather be?

Maybe setting up my drawing course, starting some activity that I prefer. Why does it take so long to execute even when you know what it is in fact that you want?

I'd also prefer to be in Italy, of course, getting to know M. slowly and delightfully. After this fall, i.e. next year I'll go back. But that will be at least six months after the September trip, and for how long, really? :(

Do you know, it occurs to me as I write this entry that I will fill this book up (the journal that I bought on my second-to-last day in Florence). I will fill up a journal for the first time in my life - a printed one, that is.

When I went to Florence this last time, did I have in my mind an image already of what I would find there? Was it all decided by my stubborn will? You guys would probably be able to say, to guess, better than I could.

I'm starting to understand more and more the importance of will. I can will almost anything to be. Well, sort of. :) I realized a few moments ago that I used to believe that you had to wait, and that if you got lucky in your waiting then some magical person would come along and just...fit you.

And it is not that I don't believe that anyone ever comes along who is an incredible fit - maybe the best conceivable fit for someone - but I do believe that the *most important part* is on one's own end - it's the desire to be in, to have, to hold onto such a person. I could will myself to live a life with someone quite marvelous, actually. If I'm perfectly honest, the path is paved - or at least occasionally studded :) - with marvelous people.

But none of these people have yet or will yet belong in my life, because I'm accepting now, as I've never done before, that my *real* life hasn't yet taken shape! I could be the person with the *right* job and the pension and the clear path ahead of me here. And in being and accepting that person as enough, I could settle in and be with someone, build a home and a family here. I used to tell myself that I haven't been able to do this because I'm afraid - or maybe even incapable - of opening myself up to someone.

I thought that there was something wrong with me.

But I think now that that is not actually true! Amazingly, that is not true. I have laid myself bare so many times in my life - no pun intended - it is ridiculous! I'm all about the depth. Everyone I've known and loved has seen it all. I've been completely there and completely accepting of what they can give and what they need from me. It's why my relationship with C. is so strong, and why I know that we'll be friends forever. And I have dozens of other friends who have wanted the same from me, but then time and circumstances have eventually limited those relationships to less. There is complete honesty and vulnerability with C and I, and that is good.

I think I'm writing all of this because I've reached a new acceptance regarding my relationship with my mother.

My mother has been completely erratic lately, and I hardly want to write about her here. What I do want to write is that, yet again, she has ordered me to stay at this job, live a life that I dislike, and "enjoy my leisure time to make up for what I you must do during the day."

Yet again, she has told me not to live, and while I understand the note of caution, the last thing on earth that I want is to live her hollow life. I do not have to stay in this job, this career that I loathe. I do not have to do it. I WILL get out. And I will never, never, never, in any words, ask for her approval again.

So on to more positive things! I'm on the plane, as I'd mentioned... :)

But before I go on, I must remark that in stating what I did just now, in the way that I stated it now, it feels like such a challenge - a challenge to me - to make it become more than hollow words. It's defiance against all of the misery I've ever felt.

So... :) I have the post card here that the English Australian guy whom I met in Florence gave to me for my birthday. It's a card from the Uff!zi - the Primav3ra, of course. :)

Here it is:

"I think now that I have three Isles of Inn!sfree - Florence being one of them. Thank you for your honest friendship, and for making an "old man" smile. :)

Have a Wonderful Birthday
love and best wishes ___

When I look back on Florence, ___, I will think of the man with the poster tube, and the "left breast" story (ed: it was the right breast, but who's analysing ;)) will make me smile.

The Isle of Innisfr33 - WB Y3ats.

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfr33.,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean rows will there I grow, a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee-land glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the wheels of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavement grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core."

Not sure if that is a faithful transcription. (Now THAT's another entry, isn't it?)

Yeah. I don't know why I wanted to write that. Maybe because, philosophically, in my deep heart's core, I am seeking my own Innisfr33.

I think that my Innisfr33 will be a way of being and of seeing - that one kind of knowing and living that I have always wanted and the desire for which I have never permitted myself to accept.

So where was I? I just went to the loo - I'm sure that you all wanted to know that - and it occurred to me therein that I could take a leave for a year from my job!

Yes, in a year or two's time, I could take a leave.

It is too bad that they will only give women paid leave if they go to have a baby. I mean, how unfair is that? If I want to go to birth myself I get...nothing!

OK. That's it for my whinging. I'm guessing that I should call it quits here, go and seek out some sushi here. Sushi is the one delight of which I can clearly partake when in this fine, rainy mess of a city. I wish I could see the woods. I am nowhere near the woods. And I must be out on the peninsula for the conference at 8 tomorrow.

Cheerio and sweet dreams, my friends!

7:44 p.m. - 2008-06-05

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