Love..

Why is it that in a moment you can plunge from happiness to misery? I am not talking about the sort of life changing events that affect us all and would be the obvious answer to the above; I am talking about the seemingly inocuous and subtle events that can make a woman go from feeling happy, self assured and confident in to an insecure and self conscious girl?

M and I have been having trouble for a few months now. He likes a drink, and whilst I do too from time to time, I grew up with alcoholic parents and left home at a very young age as a result, so I am a bit sensitive about excessive consumption. Its amazing the transformative affect that alcohol has on some people. Take my mother for example, the affect alcohol has on her is that she loses all inhibitions and becomes, ahem, a little, well....promiscuous. (Believe me as difficult as it is to write that, it is even more uncomfortable when you have the unfortunate luck to bear witness to said behaviour!).

M on the other hand, who is shy by nature, becomes this overly gregarious and slightly wild boy. He works in the music industry and alcohol is a big part of the scene, but what is hardest I think, is the down time from alcohol. Those moments when he's not drunk but is utterly exhausted, distant and aloof as his mind and body tries to recover from the damage. Tonight, after he got in from work I greeted him with my usual enthusiasm, a huge hug and a big smile. After a nice meal and a chat, I lent and touched the side of his face; he responded with "must you do that?". That's it; the moment, right there. In those four words I plunge from happiness and light in to feeling hurt and insecure. I say nothing and a little while later I feel fine. Well, mostly fine.

It's funny. I've moved abroad on my own. I've lived in Paris, travelled the world and had the fortitude and luck to hold some really interesting and challenging jobs. I am confident in my ability to adapt in professional situations, have fantastic friends but when it comes to matters of the heart...I become stuck.

Phew. Time for a nice cup of chai me thinks.

cupcakes and immigration

It was a lovely day in London today. Clear skies, a warmish sun and just a slight chill in the air. I have such a love/hate relationship with this city. I've lived here for nearly 4 years and at times the thought of leaving fills me with dread, at others i'm a mouse click away from hopping on a plane out of here.

My love is here, a boy unlike all others. We met 2 years ago and it was amazing. Blinding, all consuming romance..

Since then things have changed a little. Blinding, all consumingarguments. It's hard to find the right words to adequately describe the current state of play here, so I think I'll just come back to it...

The current plague on my existance is the British Home Office. I emigrated under the Highly Skilled Migrant Program 18 months ago after being on a working holiday visa. Late last year, whilst I was in Australia for 2 weeks for family reasons, the laws changed in respect to my visa status, and, to cut a long story short, a two week trip to Australia turned in to 2 months while I wrangled with the powers that be.

This situation is yet to be resolved and I am unable to work in the UK currently whilst this matter is being sorted. Now, I have worked since I left home at 14, and not being able to do so is driving me mad. Luckily, I organise a legal advice service for a homeless charity so I do have a few things to keep me occupied, but, well, quite frankly this whole situation is a little tiresome.

Bake for distraction. Cupcake, anyone?