A gap in space and time...

[annwfyn]

It's an odd gap between Christmas and New Year. The old year isn't quite over. The new year hasn't yet begun. A lot of people aren't in work, only some of the shops are over, and the world seems half asleep.

I had a lovely day yesterday. pierot, ksirafai and I drove into town. We parked in Chinatown (for lo! There was no congestion charge) and wandered down to Leicester Square, through all the smells and sounds of Chinatown. We had lunch at Bella Pasta, and then wandered on to Forbidden Planet where Ginnie and jez shopped for comics, and I found a small section in a corner called 'Fastastical Romance' which amused me no end. There are LOADS of fantasy novels written in the spirit of Mills & Boon.

We got out of Forbidden Planet, drove, picked up a bringeroflight at London Bridge and headed on up to Hatfield to go and see castorlion, for the trains were down and he could not come and see us. There was Chinese food in the evening, and then a trip to the cinema to see the Producers, which was exactly like the stage show, but with Uma Thurman, and much better close ups of the choreography.

And now I'm back at Queen of Denmark Court, feeling odd and nostalgic and pondersome. At this time of year I always get very introverted. By New Year, I'll be moping quietly, and will probably duck away for points of New Year's Eve and watch my odd head space ebb and flow. Christmas, I try and remember the good. New Year, maybe in balance, seems to be the time of year when I remember the bad, the sad, the things I'm missing. Today, I'm thinking about people that I miss. Not necessarily people that are dead, although they are there too, but just people who were once very important to me, and now I don't get to have in my life nearly as much. Some of them will come back into my life again - I'm quite chuffed at the fact that this year I have made contact with some of my old friends from school and started re-establishing the closeness we used to have - and some of them won't, and that will be life. I know life moves on. I know a lot of friendship is dependent on having things in common, and sometimes that just fades as lives move in different directions. I do think it is important to remember though.

Therefore, in this hole in the calender when nothing really seems to be there to fill in my brain, I'm going to list a series of good and positive memories relating to people I don't see that often, but still care about a lot. I'm not listing names, but I'm fairly sure folks will recognise some of the stories. And some of these people I hope I'll see soon. A couple I can't see anymore. Others I maybe will keep drifting from, but I think I'd like the memories to stay.

This isn't a complete list by any means. There are other people out there who I care about and don't see nearly often enough. This may be added to later, or may have a second episode. It just seemed appropriate today.

______________________________________________________________

I remember you pushing me up against a wall to stop me running away when I was in a complete state, and telling me that you loved me while I was pretty damn hysterical and tearful. I don't know if I ever got to say this, but you were one of the people that kept me functional, and possibly alive in that particularly messed up part of my life. You were an absolute rock, and you're a really decent person.


I remember lying in the sun in Holyrood Park, half dozing in the grass. The sun was shining, and everything just seemed so sleepy and perfect, and comfortable. You were always lovely to me. I don't think I've ever felt quite as safe and peaceful as I have with you.


I remember sitting in on a bus, having been there for over 24 hours, almost hysterical with laughter. I fear that the cause of the hilarity may have been...erm...idiosyncratic. I don't think anyone else I've tried to explain that story to has ever understood why it was so funny, but at that moment neither of us could stop laughing. It was such an odd, but such a very happy moment.


I remember you coming to pick me up when I'd been in hospital with tummy problems and had been going through a really bad emotional patch. You took me back to your place and put me on the sofa and covered me up with a duvet and let me pass out while the rest of the world kept going around me. You were an absolute rock, and I love you to pieces for it, still.


I remember an epic and many houred walk around Edinburgh (erm, mostly Leith Walk), after a nasty 'getting lost en route to the cash machine' incident. I also remember another walk, a couple of years later after we'd had a bust up, and made up and were learning to get along again. I think, over the years, I've come to the conclusion that you are someone I just find it very hard to stay emotionally neutral about. Either you make me smile, or you make me snarl. I think I've decided that this is a good thing, and all I need to do is keep focussed on the smiling.


I remember a very bizarre conversation featuring Garfield vibrators. This features two of you...and actually, I'm not sure that's a happy memory. The mental pictures brought up by this conversation are rising again. OK, it seemed funny at the time, but we'd spent three hours in Bar Kohl then. I don't have the softening vodka now. Argh! No! Stop it! My eyes...


I remember eating blackberry and apple crumble in a cafe down by the sea, and watching the rain beat against the window.


I remember dancing in the rain on the roof of a Nepalese house. You won't read this, and I've no idea where you are now, but you're still the only person I've ever danced in the rain with.


I remember sitting in Weaver's Walk with you for HOURS. And HOURS. And HOURS. Erm, I think we were meant to be in school some of those times, y'know.


I remember sitting by the side of the path through the Meadows waiting for you to wander by, as I knew that was your way to work. Erm. No. I wasn't stalking you. Well, only in a nice kind of way (I hope...)


I remember sitting up at the little ruined chapel, halfway up Arthur's Seat, watching the sun come up. I've done that with a couple of people. They've all been special. I never went up there with someone who didn't mean a fair bit to me.


I remember skiving off going to a mage game and sneaking off to sit in the pub and drink and gossip. I've only really had that one long drinking session with you, but it was totally worth it. You really are a very easy person to chat to.


I remember climbing into an old ruined church in St Andrews, after a long walk along the seafront, the first weekend we ever really spent getting to know each other. The wind was wild and alive and I remember tingling from head to foot with cold, but I had been smiling so much my face ached.

That's not a complete list of people I've lost touch with. There are also people who are on that list, although I'm still in touch with them - I just don't get to see them/speak to them nearly as much as I'd like - and there are other people who aren't on that list because I've talked to them over the last couple of days and so I'm not on a nostalgia fest about. I think I shall do another entry like this later as well, with more memories of the people I've loved who I don't have around as much as I'd like. So, consider this Part One, in an ongoing story...

Comments

[crocodilewings.livejournal.com]

Last year I got quite annoyed when, immediately after Christmas, everybody suddenly started going on about all the things they were going to change in the new year. There was a whole week between Christmas and New Year that they could be doing those things in, and wouldn't it be so much better to start the new year having already done something cool, rather than just intending to do it?

But it's like going to pay in your cheques on a bank holiday because you can finally get to the bank. Everywhere's half-open, or half-closed, and distinguishing between the two does become important. Everyone's sleeping off overindulgence, or cuddling up, or keeping warm. It's like a tiny week of hibernation whilst the social side of winter thaws out.

There should be a term for that. Like temporary autonomous zones, but with society and time, rather than government and space. And possibly fewer pirates.

[headinclouds.livejournal.com]

I remember a very bizarre conversation featuring Garfield vibrators.

You just made me splutter Bru all over Phil's keyboard, remembering that.
I think it's funnier (and slightly less terrifying)remembering how we scared gingerfifer and made him run out of Black Lion afterwards....

[taimatsu]

You are definitely someone I want to see much more of in 2006 :) Any ideas for making that happen? (er, only if the feeling is mutual, obviously. *digs frantically*)

[annwfyn.livejournal.com]

ps - above comment screened due to containing my mobile no and this being a public post, so reply to this one instead! ;)