Here I am again,4.40am and awake once more because of over-indulgence, this time wine and bread (linseed and soy toast spread thick with butter) as I was on the red and 2/3rds into the bottle, I couldn't be bothered to cook. In fact I had earmarked a main course salad but that was not appealing once I had started boozing and so I think I had about four-rounds, and fairly late at night....
I have eaten bread as far back as I can remember, the fresher, the better and I love it, but along with wine it is becoming a dangerous and increasing indigestible combo. I do crave carbs though when drinking - the two substances seem to go hand in hand but as I type, I feel pretty horrible again and why..... they both have to go.
REMEMBER THIS FEELING
Monday, 24 December 2012
Sunday, 23 December 2012
Let's talk about ...
... I can't complete that song title as someone typing in that 3-letter word would no doubt be extremely disappointed by the search result should they be tempted to click on this page, particularly as I plan to unburden myself about my feelings earlier today and I wouldn't want to burst any young person's bubble, either if they are in the first flushes of lust with a partner or worst still, yearning for an adult life they expect will be theirs at some point (surely) based on the evidence of their immediate surroundings but mostly because of the brainwashing by society - the media. I particularly loved music growing up, I also love to sing and so was especially attracted to female singers from Suzi Q, the gals in a very famous Swedish outfit to music in the films my mum loved to watch - Doris and certainly, like your average sponge I was searching for clues and picked up a heap of mixed messages in my formative years - mostly 1940's, 50's & 60's American mix of aspiration and social engineering from the telly and British post-Victorian peasant values from my modern nuclear family.
However I think the musical touchstones in my 'yearning days' were of their (my) time, Amoureuse by Kiki (74) and Seventeen by Janis (75) as I was fast approaching puberty. I wonder if I would have the same attitude to this subject if I hadn't been so profoundly effected by these songs at such a tender age? I remember the first time I heard Amoureuse, we lived in a small block of flats and I heard it coming from an open window in the block opposite, the net curtain was blowing in the breeze and it was played a few times in a row and loud enough for me to make out the words. I wondered if the girl has just broken up with her boyfriend or just - yearniing - I know for the first time I was. A strong memory, within a year, was on a hot summer's day when my family were at the beach and they were driving my crazy (as usual) and I wanted to be alone. I managed to get permission to go home alone, it wasn't far, because I wanted to play my new record and fantasize about being older and in control of my life - I played Summer Love Sensation over and over again and wondered when I would get to be a bleach blond surf bum's girl, like the ones I saw frolicing (without their parents) at every beach we went to. The members of the band singing were almost the exact physical opposites but at the time I didn't see the irony or care - it held great promise that song and I couldn't wait!!!
In fact that word has always struck me as extremely powerful, so small a container for such huge and mixed emotions. Out of interest I typed it into Google images to see what might come up, surprise surprise it is mainly represented by illustrations of naked women, realistic and abstract - a reward for any stray reader who was expecting a little flesh! The definition is equally strong but mixed:
Have an intense feeling of loss or lack and longing for something. A persistent, often wistful or melancholy desire; a longing. Be filled with compassion or warm feeling. Is yearning the same as passion (I dare not type that word into Google images!!!)
Everyone talks about passion in terms of what drives them, I have noted mostly in connexion with food related businesses. I can't honestly say I feel it towards anything - I feel as though my life has a low libido. I feel another definition coming on, just to be sure: the psychic energy or instinctual drive associated with sexual desire, pleasure, or creativity.; (in psychoanalysis) the instinctual drives of the id; and lustful desire or striving. Yeah - I was pretty much right!
When looking at the Y word images, I came across Maslow's famous diagram, but when I clicked on the picture to remind myself of the actual words, it was part of a site called Work the System and his post was titled 'The Yearning', this is the crux for me:
Everyone yearns for something better yet very few follow a focused plan to get there. Truth is, the majority of people just ride along and take what comes, hoping for the best. They forgo methodical efforts to create a better life and instead, fritter away their inner passion with immediate-gratification diversions.
Of course I already know that this frustration is the root cause of my lack of self-esteem, over indulging and so not being the best that I can be. I heard something else profound fairly recently when went along the lines of - gain satisfaction from what you do or achieve and not merely from what you put in your mouth. I paraphrase but it is the same as the other guy's rap. I keep getting sent such messages, an esoteric acquaintance of mine would say it was the Universe sending me help. Perhaps she is right.
Of course the above conluding message had to be in pink!!! This is not the missive I set out to write but then they rarely are. To bed as - to quote Scarlet "... tomorrow is another day!"
However I think the musical touchstones in my 'yearning days' were of their (my) time, Amoureuse by Kiki (74) and Seventeen by Janis (75) as I was fast approaching puberty. I wonder if I would have the same attitude to this subject if I hadn't been so profoundly effected by these songs at such a tender age? I remember the first time I heard Amoureuse, we lived in a small block of flats and I heard it coming from an open window in the block opposite, the net curtain was blowing in the breeze and it was played a few times in a row and loud enough for me to make out the words. I wondered if the girl has just broken up with her boyfriend or just - yearniing - I know for the first time I was. A strong memory, within a year, was on a hot summer's day when my family were at the beach and they were driving my crazy (as usual) and I wanted to be alone. I managed to get permission to go home alone, it wasn't far, because I wanted to play my new record and fantasize about being older and in control of my life - I played Summer Love Sensation over and over again and wondered when I would get to be a bleach blond surf bum's girl, like the ones I saw frolicing (without their parents) at every beach we went to. The members of the band singing were almost the exact physical opposites but at the time I didn't see the irony or care - it held great promise that song and I couldn't wait!!!
In fact that word has always struck me as extremely powerful, so small a container for such huge and mixed emotions. Out of interest I typed it into Google images to see what might come up, surprise surprise it is mainly represented by illustrations of naked women, realistic and abstract - a reward for any stray reader who was expecting a little flesh! The definition is equally strong but mixed:Have an intense feeling of loss or lack and longing for something. A persistent, often wistful or melancholy desire; a longing. Be filled with compassion or warm feeling. Is yearning the same as passion (I dare not type that word into Google images!!!)
Everyone talks about passion in terms of what drives them, I have noted mostly in connexion with food related businesses. I can't honestly say I feel it towards anything - I feel as though my life has a low libido. I feel another definition coming on, just to be sure: the psychic energy or instinctual drive associated with sexual desire, pleasure, or creativity.; (in psychoanalysis) the instinctual drives of the id; and lustful desire or striving. Yeah - I was pretty much right!
When looking at the Y word images, I came across Maslow's famous diagram, but when I clicked on the picture to remind myself of the actual words, it was part of a site called Work the System and his post was titled 'The Yearning', this is the crux for me:
Everyone yearns for something better yet very few follow a focused plan to get there. Truth is, the majority of people just ride along and take what comes, hoping for the best. They forgo methodical efforts to create a better life and instead, fritter away their inner passion with immediate-gratification diversions.
Of course I already know that this frustration is the root cause of my lack of self-esteem, over indulging and so not being the best that I can be. I heard something else profound fairly recently when went along the lines of - gain satisfaction from what you do or achieve and not merely from what you put in your mouth. I paraphrase but it is the same as the other guy's rap. I keep getting sent such messages, an esoteric acquaintance of mine would say it was the Universe sending me help. Perhaps she is right.
Of course the above conluding message had to be in pink!!! This is not the missive I set out to write but then they rarely are. To bed as - to quote Scarlet "... tomorrow is another day!"
Friday, 21 December 2012
Farewell fries and garlic mayo!
Oh now, as usual I was trying to think of a title to sum up how I feel and so begin my post (at 4.17am on a Saturday morning wide awake again) and by calling it garlic mayo and not aioli, I am immediately taken back to my old stomping ground of the mid-late 1990's, coming out of a suburban nightclub with friends, staggering to the kebab shop up the road - all in various states of intoxication and myself and a great fellow non-meat eating mate, getting not a donor or burger but chips and garlic sauce...... then we would all slowly make our way up a fairly steep hill to our shared house - which sober would have taken 15 minutes but in this state, sometimes the best part of an hour. In the process we all no doubt got up to all manner of 3am shenanigans (not least dropping half said chips) - our regular arrival time may have indeed been 4.17am! I am sure the hangovers must have been fairly epic on occasion but I have fond memories of that nightclub, the kebab shop (that hideous neon light that made people who had looked great in the dim club lighting only ten minutes earlier transformed into discombobulated zombies - not least the gals with their grey faces, make-up sliding due south...) I don't often eat chips and garlic sauce anymore - indeed not even garlic mayo as where I live now it is a sophisticated food obsessed city and one only consumes Aioli which it transpires, is Spanish and not of French origin and is traditionally an accompaniment to seafood - much like the British Tartare which it turns out is French and was developed to be one of the piquant (great word) sauces to accompany Steak Tartare when it was first fashionable in 19th century France but then further research shows that it was a Roman dish and a recipe appears in an Elizabethan cookbook - "Sauce for hens or Pullets to prepare them to roast...Then for the sauce take the yolks of six hard eggs minced small, put to them white-wine, or wine vinegar, butter, and the gravy the of the hen, juice of orange, pepper, salt, and if you please add thereto mustard." - Accomplist Cook, Robert May [1685] although that was actually published in the last year of Charles' II reign.
Blimey - how did I get here in my musings! Frankly when I woke up after a few hours fitful sleep around 4am, I still felt like I was digesting and reflected on my diet today and how it made me feel:
Breakfast 8.45am - roll oats porridge, made with water, almond milk and salt - I felt full and fairly uncomfortable until at least noon
2.45pm - another black coffee followed by a couple of litres of water.
So the triology of delights - red wine, chips with aioli and pizza Margarita. Food of the Gods - what is it about these substances....... what a loaded question - when I was fifteen this would have been my choice of meal every night if I had earned any money - except the red wine would have been swapped for chocolate milkshake!
However when I extracted myself from the party, got on a train and went home (relatively sober). All I could smell was aioli it must have repulsed the guy in the seat next to me - oh well I have sat next to worse I suppose - but when I got home I didn't carry on drinking or eating I just had pints of soda water and lime cordial over ice as I had terrific indigestion looming. I managed to get to sleep but now here I am at almost 6am and still digesting. I am not sure I can say goodbye to pizza forever - as it is just such a classic and I am hoping to visit Italy next year..... but I really do think that I have overdosed on garlic mayo aka aioli and fries for a good long while. BURP....
Sunday, 16 December 2012
Your Ego is writing cheques your body cannot cash!
I read this quote on Saturday whilst browsing through the movie guide of a weekend 'lifestyle' section. Apparently it is a quote from Top Gun.... I have seen the movie a few times over the years (but not for a dogs age) and I remember it being quintessentially 80's - like shoulder pads, Filofax diaries, Perrier water and Thatcher, the very popular theme tune by Berlin (where are they now) even makes me cringe a little. Here is a little taste of Top Gun, not Perrier!
I love the way my mind works when I see or hear something that resonates and then that coupled with not sleeping or having a particularly vexing day, I am compelled to spin my next missive here to relieve the pressure of the endless internal dialogue.
From 4.45am musings and anxieties now to memories of Top Gun, 1986 (blimey I was 22) and a one night stand at a party, circa 1992, with a Tom Cruise looky-likely. Didn't fancy a second night stand (probably because he lived in the back end of beyond, dullsville place - I think it was Northampton and although I like some of his films, I have never found Tommy C sexy - but that bloke's features I can recall vividly and he probably got off with a lot of gals on the strength of his boatrace, sadly though in the mists of time, his name has not been retained. In a nutshell, it was an OK encounter at a friend of a friends mediocre party when nothing better was on offer, but he failed to - wait for it - TAKE MY BREATH AWAY. l expect the guy probably had a motorbike and pair of Ray Ban Aviators though, no doubt influenced by aforesaid movie and a Honda 125cc and pair of replica sunnies would have been easier to acquire than a fighter jet to complete his image and satisfy the ladies of Northampton's TC fantasies. Come to think of it, I recall liking Kelly's image in the movie and although not directly inspired by her look, my hair would have been very similar in those days - although without the truckload of volumizing mousse! I do however recall seeing or reading the behind the scenes making of Top Gun, it struck me as much more interesting than then actual film and again, typified the 80's.
As usual I digress, the point is I am becoming much more self-aware - as the evidence is forever mounting and so even I must accept - that my ego is and has been, no doubt for quite some time (perhaps since birth), issuing more than a few duds. So what to do. Just looked at a Top Gun 'then and now' image file and for all his issues, out of that line up, he looks by far in the best nick. Poor, once beautiful, Val is bloated (and by all accounts very dull during interviews), Meg went on to feel very insecure in middle-age and had a famous face lift - although I can understand the pressure she must have been under and after her performance in When Harry Met Sally we forgive her everything. Kelly and Tim look authentic. But then I should give them all a break - I looked a hell of a lot better in 1986 - wow I have just done the math, it was made 26 years ago and I have squeezed in one hell of a lot of living between then and now myself and we all get the face (and body) we deserve. So despite all of TC's subsequent highs and lows, he still works and looks damned fine for his age but I suspect he really works at it and with his pile can afford a little help here and there but still.... . Is that the secret, should I channel TC, but without the Scientology, errr, input!
I love the way my mind works when I see or hear something that resonates and then that coupled with not sleeping or having a particularly vexing day, I am compelled to spin my next missive here to relieve the pressure of the endless internal dialogue.
From 4.45am musings and anxieties now to memories of Top Gun, 1986 (blimey I was 22) and a one night stand at a party, circa 1992, with a Tom Cruise looky-likely. Didn't fancy a second night stand (probably because he lived in the back end of beyond, dullsville place - I think it was Northampton and although I like some of his films, I have never found Tommy C sexy - but that bloke's features I can recall vividly and he probably got off with a lot of gals on the strength of his boatrace, sadly though in the mists of time, his name has not been retained. In a nutshell, it was an OK encounter at a friend of a friends mediocre party when nothing better was on offer, but he failed to - wait for it - TAKE MY BREATH AWAY. l expect the guy probably had a motorbike and pair of Ray Ban Aviators though, no doubt influenced by aforesaid movie and a Honda 125cc and pair of replica sunnies would have been easier to acquire than a fighter jet to complete his image and satisfy the ladies of Northampton's TC fantasies. Come to think of it, I recall liking Kelly's image in the movie and although not directly inspired by her look, my hair would have been very similar in those days - although without the truckload of volumizing mousse! I do however recall seeing or reading the behind the scenes making of Top Gun, it struck me as much more interesting than then actual film and again, typified the 80's.
As usual I digress, the point is I am becoming much more self-aware - as the evidence is forever mounting and so even I must accept - that my ego is and has been, no doubt for quite some time (perhaps since birth), issuing more than a few duds. So what to do. Just looked at a Top Gun 'then and now' image file and for all his issues, out of that line up, he looks by far in the best nick. Poor, once beautiful, Val is bloated (and by all accounts very dull during interviews), Meg went on to feel very insecure in middle-age and had a famous face lift - although I can understand the pressure she must have been under and after her performance in When Harry Met Sally we forgive her everything. Kelly and Tim look authentic. But then I should give them all a break - I looked a hell of a lot better in 1986 - wow I have just done the math, it was made 26 years ago and I have squeezed in one hell of a lot of living between then and now myself and we all get the face (and body) we deserve. So despite all of TC's subsequent highs and lows, he still works and looks damned fine for his age but I suspect he really works at it and with his pile can afford a little help here and there but still.... . Is that the secret, should I channel TC, but without the Scientology, errr, input!
Monday, 12 November 2012
Health health health sweetie
Here I am again
...... trying to undo the harm I have done to myself yet again. Burning the candle at both ends and now I feel the need to atone. The tangible hangover has gone but the guilt and self-loathing lingers on.
So I believe it is now time to work a little harder at abstinence as it might just conceivably be easier than moderation, which is just not possible. So I am going to try to actually go through the pain and depression of dealing with this addiction to over-(self)-indulgence and see if I actually feel better about life in general if the mist lifts. Hopefully I will be a bit smarter, fitter, thinner and not as dreadfully dull as I actually suspect I am without the social lubricant that is booze. I have to face up to the fact that this is my essential problem but it is not an addiction to alcohol rather an addiction to feeling sorry for myself. It has been a life long constant companion - this is the demon I must tackle as my over-indulgence in all of its forms is just self-soothing. I can't perform the spectacular tantrums that I used to do until around the age of 6-7 any longer. I don't remember when they actually stopped but I suspect I just stopped being cute and so no longer had any credit in the bank and it must have been a supreme shock to me going to school and realising I was not the centre of the Universe (imagine!) So from the age of 7 or 8 I must have begun to realise that they just weren't working for me any longer and so since that time I have driven the tantrums underground - the old passive, aggressive routine. I know what behaviours and attitudes I need to strive for in order to appear assertive and negotiate like an adult but knowing it and doing it are very different beasts. A bit like what I know I must do be to slim and fit but like the ladies above - there is no off position on the master control switch!
The only reason I stopped smoking was because of the pain in my chest - that was a very touch emotional few weeks and I think I just have to go through that again and JUST SAY NO!
I really wish I could be like good old Madonna - but I am just not made that way, I really do care far too much about what people think about me. I had trouble at work last week too but after going through the usual rainbow of emotions it all came down to me taking myself too seriously, not being able to take ANY criticism and of course the usual lack of quality communication. Out of 100 though - and trying to be completely honest with myself, it was 25% ill considered, passive aggressive management and 75% 'how very dare you' i.e. tantrum on my part. This is not getting me anywhere though, except that I then give myself permission to reward myself with things that stress out not only my mind but also my body. I know there are other individuals much worse than me but so what?! I can only ultimately do something about myself, take control of my own emotions. Try to bloody well grow up - whatever that means. Perhaps it really is time to go through the pain of it and document the experiment (hopefully transition) for myself and for future reference/amusement.
I have felt pretty low for getting close to a week (decades) now and the binge drinking on the weekend just makes it all worse (except for those few self-indulgent hours with your mates) but then I don't really know what they think about me and my issues. They probably just humour me to the same extent that I usually humour them - particularly when booze is in the equation. It is just all too easy to put the dummy in my mouth.
So it is Monday - the day most weak people begin a new regime - let's go
...... trying to undo the harm I have done to myself yet again. Burning the candle at both ends and now I feel the need to atone. The tangible hangover has gone but the guilt and self-loathing lingers on.
So I believe it is now time to work a little harder at abstinence as it might just conceivably be easier than moderation, which is just not possible. So I am going to try to actually go through the pain and depression of dealing with this addiction to over-(self)-indulgence and see if I actually feel better about life in general if the mist lifts. Hopefully I will be a bit smarter, fitter, thinner and not as dreadfully dull as I actually suspect I am without the social lubricant that is booze. I have to face up to the fact that this is my essential problem but it is not an addiction to alcohol rather an addiction to feeling sorry for myself. It has been a life long constant companion - this is the demon I must tackle as my over-indulgence in all of its forms is just self-soothing. I can't perform the spectacular tantrums that I used to do until around the age of 6-7 any longer. I don't remember when they actually stopped but I suspect I just stopped being cute and so no longer had any credit in the bank and it must have been a supreme shock to me going to school and realising I was not the centre of the Universe (imagine!) So from the age of 7 or 8 I must have begun to realise that they just weren't working for me any longer and so since that time I have driven the tantrums underground - the old passive, aggressive routine. I know what behaviours and attitudes I need to strive for in order to appear assertive and negotiate like an adult but knowing it and doing it are very different beasts. A bit like what I know I must do be to slim and fit but like the ladies above - there is no off position on the master control switch!
The only reason I stopped smoking was because of the pain in my chest - that was a very touch emotional few weeks and I think I just have to go through that again and JUST SAY NO!
I have felt pretty low for getting close to a week (decades) now and the binge drinking on the weekend just makes it all worse (except for those few self-indulgent hours with your mates) but then I don't really know what they think about me and my issues. They probably just humour me to the same extent that I usually humour them - particularly when booze is in the equation. It is just all too easy to put the dummy in my mouth.
So it is Monday - the day most weak people begin a new regime - let's go
Thursday, 27 September 2012
It could be you....
Had a day off work today, the sun was shining, I did a few chores and went for a walk to the local shops to get some vegetables and saw a sign for the lottery. Tonight there is potentially a huge jackpot. Now I did buy a ticket last week too and didn't get a single number, so why do I do it? Why, because from the moment you take possession of the ticket to the time you check the winning numbers - you can actually allow yourself to dream large as you are IN IT TO WIN IT - you can fantasise about having enough money to lead a different life, help out your loved ones and not have to do tedious work any more.
So if I win I might get what I actually think I want. The business, the lap pool, the dogs. Potential true freedom.
Come on Universe, give a girl a chance! But then every ticket holder is chanting the same thing, but you never know.... despite the fact that the house always wins and the odds are completely stacked against me, I could just conceivably be me! Wouldn't it be lovely. And that is how it sucks you in. Sucker being the operative word - but I am still just a little bit excited...!
Vindication?
Had a walk with my parents on Sunday, the weather was pleasant, their dog was happy playing with a ball and sniffing butts. We met a lot of great dogs and said hello to their owners and other park users and STOP PRESS we didn't argue about anything. On the contrary, we agreed about a fair amount of stuff. But the difference probably was that they wanted have a little bitch session and I was presumed to be an ally. They were right - up to a point.
This is yet again another complicated on-going saga of relationships in my life that have altered (usually turning sour) when the dynamic is changed. After relocating, at whatever age, you need to build a new life and hopefully forge new friendships, mates make life by turns fun when times are good and support you when the sh*t hits the many and various fans. If they are good mates who turn into actual 'friends' they even start to understand you and genuinely accept you with all your flaws and boorish opinions - and you accept them despite theirs. In the words of the wise ......
You have different mates for different occasions and types of extra curricular activity and even at times, joy of joys, you can introduce your mates to each other and authentic friendly networks of fun and support spring forth. However this ideal isn't aways reached. So my first mate turned out to be good company and we had a fair amount in common - particularly our shared love of vin rouge and going to the movies - and we were both getting to grips with starting again in a new city. But my brother was also keen to socialise more as his marriage was a bit of a sham and they were only going through the motions, not least to protect his daughter from any separation or divorce fall out. It was great to see more of him and to see him having fun. However, eventually it was becoming fairly obvious (the body language was becoming a give away) that there was something going on between them and the excuses of my mate when I tried to organise certain outings, were just not adding up. It then all came out and it transpired they had been seeing each other for six months. Initially I was pleased that she had a boyfriend and that he had found someone to be happy with. Then the dynamics changed and assumptions were made that it would all be instant happy families. Well mum and dad were thrilled that the old daughter-in-law would soon be out of the picture and frankly (and pretty much as usual) viewed the change through its effect on them. My brother also wasn't good at observing the usual social etiquette and although not deliberate, was insensitive about the changing relationships and is all went from bad to worse fairly quickly. For whatever reason I just didn't really want to be around them during their 'honeymoon' period and so the friendship ran its course.
Fast forward a few years and the odd attempt at just getting on with it at family occasions, my brother blithely pretending nothing was wrong and my parents not understanding what the problem was 'well you used to be friends!' There really wasn't (still isn't) much subtlety or understanding, just black and white thinking highlighting that I really did thinking differently from them. So for quite some time I just tried not to think too much about it but that is easier said than done and there is nothing pleasant or enriching about a feud!
At this stage there is now an uneasy kind of truce shaping up between me and the old drinking bud. My parents though, never keep their observations to themselves and so have bulldozed in and managed to upset the lovebirds by criticising their decorating choices in their new (first jointly owned) place. Potentially a pretty significant moment for them as a couple but as my parents have no finesse, and tact and diplomacy are in short supply, feelings are a bit hurt. So they seemed to relish the retelling of this story to me - it sounded a bit different when I heard it from my brothers POV. I think my Dad identified a way to bond with me over a shared dislike of the new girlfriend but it just reminds me of his less than admirable trait, carelessness of others feelings. Frankly a cruel streak in him that was probably ingrained since his babyhood - the youngest of four then usurped but two more kids coming along when he was in his mid-teens. But then his mother had a cruel streak too and he is just a chip off the block. A little pop psychology but what worries me is that I know I am like them in so many ways - cruelty however is not one of my (myriad) faults, I find it abhorrent. However there was a part of me that revelled for a moment in the fact that they might now start to realise that the feud (for want of a more accurate word) was not entirely of my making and they should have given me tiniest benefit of the doubt?
This is yet again another complicated on-going saga of relationships in my life that have altered (usually turning sour) when the dynamic is changed. After relocating, at whatever age, you need to build a new life and hopefully forge new friendships, mates make life by turns fun when times are good and support you when the sh*t hits the many and various fans. If they are good mates who turn into actual 'friends' they even start to understand you and genuinely accept you with all your flaws and boorish opinions - and you accept them despite theirs. In the words of the wise ......
You have different mates for different occasions and types of extra curricular activity and even at times, joy of joys, you can introduce your mates to each other and authentic friendly networks of fun and support spring forth. However this ideal isn't aways reached. So my first mate turned out to be good company and we had a fair amount in common - particularly our shared love of vin rouge and going to the movies - and we were both getting to grips with starting again in a new city. But my brother was also keen to socialise more as his marriage was a bit of a sham and they were only going through the motions, not least to protect his daughter from any separation or divorce fall out. It was great to see more of him and to see him having fun. However, eventually it was becoming fairly obvious (the body language was becoming a give away) that there was something going on between them and the excuses of my mate when I tried to organise certain outings, were just not adding up. It then all came out and it transpired they had been seeing each other for six months. Initially I was pleased that she had a boyfriend and that he had found someone to be happy with. Then the dynamics changed and assumptions were made that it would all be instant happy families. Well mum and dad were thrilled that the old daughter-in-law would soon be out of the picture and frankly (and pretty much as usual) viewed the change through its effect on them. My brother also wasn't good at observing the usual social etiquette and although not deliberate, was insensitive about the changing relationships and is all went from bad to worse fairly quickly. For whatever reason I just didn't really want to be around them during their 'honeymoon' period and so the friendship ran its course.
Fast forward a few years and the odd attempt at just getting on with it at family occasions, my brother blithely pretending nothing was wrong and my parents not understanding what the problem was 'well you used to be friends!' There really wasn't (still isn't) much subtlety or understanding, just black and white thinking highlighting that I really did thinking differently from them. So for quite some time I just tried not to think too much about it but that is easier said than done and there is nothing pleasant or enriching about a feud!
At this stage there is now an uneasy kind of truce shaping up between me and the old drinking bud. My parents though, never keep their observations to themselves and so have bulldozed in and managed to upset the lovebirds by criticising their decorating choices in their new (first jointly owned) place. Potentially a pretty significant moment for them as a couple but as my parents have no finesse, and tact and diplomacy are in short supply, feelings are a bit hurt. So they seemed to relish the retelling of this story to me - it sounded a bit different when I heard it from my brothers POV. I think my Dad identified a way to bond with me over a shared dislike of the new girlfriend but it just reminds me of his less than admirable trait, carelessness of others feelings. Frankly a cruel streak in him that was probably ingrained since his babyhood - the youngest of four then usurped but two more kids coming along when he was in his mid-teens. But then his mother had a cruel streak too and he is just a chip off the block. A little pop psychology but what worries me is that I know I am like them in so many ways - cruelty however is not one of my (myriad) faults, I find it abhorrent. However there was a part of me that revelled for a moment in the fact that they might now start to realise that the feud (for want of a more accurate word) was not entirely of my making and they should have given me tiniest benefit of the doubt?
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