Till February

What I have learned these past three weeks is that it is always possible to be more in love than you were before.

I didn’t trust myself to drive home after seeing Alec off. For the second time this year, I sat in bus number 36 staring blankly into the distance, speeding towards one home and away from another.

Bet you thought this was going to be a sappy weepy post about the pain of long-distance love, but no! I’m actually going to write about Monster Movie’s Last Night Something Happened, my iPod album of choice on the way home.

You know those bits of trance dance tracks which are so euphoric that even without drugs you still find yourself with your head thrown back and your hands reaching for the sweeping laser lights, and you’re so caught up in the moment you don’t even realize you look daft? Monster Movie made a whole album’s worth of music like those bits, except slow and with guitars and pulsing organic harmonies.

You know those bits in films where a song kicks in during a particular scene and suddenly you’re plunged headlong into a world so intensely beautiful you’re almost drunk on it, and you realize that there will never be another song more perfect for these images than this one? Monster Movie made a whole album’s worth of songs like that.

You know how when you’re in the grip of pretty strong emotions but are trying not to show anything on the outside, with the result that you feel as if your heart is literally swelling in your chest, and you close your eyes and mouth tight so that nothing will leak out if it bursts?

I guess that last one didn’t actually have anything to do with my listening to Last Night Something Happened, but the album is pretty perfect for moments like that too.

At least this will be the last time. And February isn’t that far away.

The Longest Five Months Of My Life

Alec arrives today for 20 days.
Alec arrives today for 20 days.
Alec arrives today for 20 days.

Blog updates may possibly be infrequent, and unbearably sappy when they do appear. Consider yourself warned.

My Funny Valentine

There are worse ways to spend Valentine’s Day than waking up to lilies delivered by Alec, going out later that evening to meet Terry for dinner and cocktails on the NUSS terrace balcony, then being presented with even more lilies, going home to videoconference with Alec, and finally arranging my big combined lily bunch in a vase before going to sleep. There really are.

[In case it looks like I’m two-timing someone somewhere, rest assured that I’m not. I’m merely lucky enough to have a great guy friend in Terry who knows how to treat girls but doesn’t have any designs on me, a secure boyfriend in Alec who knows how much he is loved and therefore has no problems with my multitudes of close male friends, and the very pleasant coincidence between Alec and Terry of good taste in flowers.]

And that’s not all. Those of you who’ve been reading this site for a while may remember Bellagio, the inflatable, anatomically correct sheep Alec presented to me one night in Italy. When I had to leave for Singapore, we decided Bellagio would stay with Alec, since I didn’t think my mother would be particularly receptive to her charms, and she’d have lots of sheep friends in Ireland anyway. (There was, of course, the mild possibility that the other sheep could ostracize her due to her inflatable nature, but we hoped showing them her orifice would be proof enough of her essential sheepness.)

So as a charming epilogue to this tale of Valentine’s bliss, Alec, ever romantic, decided to show me just how much he appreciated the planter full of spring flowers I’d sent him. The best way of doing this, he thought, was by sending me a photo of Bellagio, posing shyly next to the planter, with a trowel in her fanny.

Two Years

When Alec was in South Africa recently, he sent me a postcard.

I quote:

“I’m afraid that, in characteristic fashion, I’ve managed to make an ass of things. When I first saw this stamp I thought it was a particularly ugly bird.”

The rare South African soreconihr bird

Today marks two years with Mr Ass. I still don’t understand how he continues to make me laugh, or endear me so much, or love me warts and all. I still don’t understand how I ever got so lucky.

A Bellagio By Any Other Name

Although the main purpose of the Italy trip was a Radiohead gig in Bergamo to fulfil my dream of seeing them live before I leave, we also spent two days in the Italian Lakes. We based ourselves in Bellagio, a little village on Lake Como. If you imagine Lake Como (see this map for best guidance) as a lithe, sinuous dancing girl in mid-step, you will come to realize the exceptionally pleasing location of Bellagio.

On the first night, Alec presented me with an inflatable sheep. I have received many bizarre love tokens from this man, including purple punk whore boots and a cigarette with “I love you” written on it, but an inflatable sheep complete with mascara’d eyes, coquette-red lips, beauty spots and, er, orifice, did rather push the boundaries. He said he could explain. He said he’d been thinking about how annoyed I get when bad weather on holidays makes for lousy photographs, but remembered how much I like sheep, and so he decided to get me a sheep so that I’d be happy even if we ran into bad weather. I think I’ll name her Bellagio.