A good day

Today has been a good work day. One where I actually feel like a curator. There's some new stuff in the pipeline, which will really stretch me, and deepen my involvement in my department. I don't want to jinx it, so for now I'm just crossing all of my fingers and all of my toes.

And today, as with most days, I am struck by how awesome The Boy is. On our way back from the tube, we had a good discussion about feminism, and the difference between one's personal beliefs and law. I am so proud of his outlook, and so so proud that he is mine.

Weekend and Friday pic

It's been a wonderful end to a nigglesome week.

Today I met Michael, friend and former colleague (he's one of the amazing curators behind this exhibition), for coffee at Loafing by Victoria Park. As we drank our (very tasty) flat whites, he used his gingerbread man to tell me about Francois Ravaillac, the fanatic who assassinated Henri IV of France. The picture you see above is of the torture he experienced before his execution (quartering, with the sugar cubes doubling as hot coals). It was hilarious, seeing such a mild mannered chap breaking up his gingerbread man with glee. The looks we got from other customers as they overheard snippets of the conversation!

On the subject of Henri IV, I recommended one of my favourite films, La Reine Margot. Have you seen it? It's indescribably beautiful, and Isabelle Adjani, who plays Margot, is stunning.

And so to the weekend! What are your plans? I'm helping my friend Heaths shop for furniture tomorrow, and there will be some more anniversary celebrations with The Boy at some point - probably Malaysian food at Makan by Portobello Market, unpretentious, cheap and seriously tasty (it's one of my favourite secret spots for food!)

Have a great weekend, all!

One year

One year ago today, I was counting down the minutes to drinks with a boy. We'd met at a party a couple of months before, and then again outside the museum, where we'd agreed to go for a drink in the near future.

I was at that horrible 'outwardly fine but really not at all over one very long relationship and a couple of flirtations' stage, and truth be told, I wasn't even sure it was a date. But I liked him, and he interested me, so off we went. Drinks turned into dinner and amazing hugs goodbye, followed some days later by cake, cricket watching and first kisses at Earls Court tube.

And still I dragged my feet, didn't take it seriously. I didn't want to be the girl who rushed headlong from one major relationship to the next. I spent months being unbelievably happy when I was with him, and plagued by doubt as soon as I was alone.

Unusually for me, I talked to him about these feelings. How he handled those conversations made me look at him again. So incredibly grounded, and honest, and... sane. Some of it can't have been easy to hear, and at no point would I have blamed him if he'd said "OK, enough of you, crazy wench. Shoo". But he didn't. More than once, he said "you are not going to screw this up, because I won't let you".

Finally, at some point in mid-January, I realised I was taking my relationship with him seriously. First of all, I was in relationship with him. I wasn't giddy, but I had a quiet certainty about him. He was what I wanted. I wasn't "in love", at least not how I always experienced it before, with anxiety and wanting to be perfect for him so that he'd never leave (yeah, I've got me some issues...). I just loved him, and how he made me feel about myself.

I'm not quite sure what happened after that. Within a fortnight, we'd said "I love you", I'd been taken home to meet his folks, and we were really quite serious about each other. Four months after that, I'd moved me, my cat and my books to his house.

Tonight, he'll cycle back from work to our home, and we'll have dinner together. Bangers and mash with wine, my favourite meal, and the first he ever cooked for me. And I'll tell him just how glad I am that those drinks were a date.

The people I love are the wonders of my world

free 'group' hugs
Originally uploaded by kalandrakas

I am so lucky to have the friends I do.

One of those wonderful people goes by the name 'Lovely Jo'. We met when we were doing our A-Levels, and she has been a constant source of delight since.

Some things you should know about Lovely Jo:
- When she was 16, she cooked a fish pie in the microwave for so long, that when she dropped it on taking it out, it bounced.
- She came down to London for my 21st birthday party, just to help me make brownies. And only told me that she is allergic to nuts after she'd stirred them into the mix, because it was "your cake".
- One afternoon, when she was having a rubbish time, she got the train down from Birmingham, and we walked round and round Leicester Square in the rain, scoring massive amounts of free chocolate from the teams promoting the second Bridget Jones film.

Today I learned that Lovely Jo marries her very own Boy next summer, the first of my secular friends to do so. Lovely Jo, I'm so very very happy for you.

*Swoon*

"I love my life with you in it"

The Boy last night, right after we decided to make dinner with the contents of the freezer, billing it a "Bird's Eye Special". (Bloody lovely it was too)