Everything is beautiful ...

We were sitting in  a dimly lit Chinese restaurant peering at the menu, sharing our reading glasses trying to get a focus on our options. Roz said she wouldn't take her reading glasses out of the house as they made her look old. I said I liked mine as I think they make me look smart. Jess said that she blames Botox for ruining her eyesight and insists that she had perfect vision up until the day she succumed to the beauty treatment of the Gods. I don't think that Botox damages your eyesight. I think you have Botox because you look old and that your eyesight starts to fail because you are actually old. Even if she is correct and there is a corrolation between the two its best to think of it like this. With Botox you look alot better and one of the postive side effects could be that so does everyone else.

Blue Sky Thinking

I had the best day in West London yesterday. We started out in a Chinese restaurant called Pearl Liang on Sheldon Square in Paddington and hung out all day after that.

Sometimes I think that the last people I want to see are my friends. I have a strange ambiguity where they are concerned. Why would any one want to hang out with people who stand by them through thin and thinner, indulge their passing fancies and tolerate their Francis Farmer mood swings.  If they were not as conflicted as I am they could be offended but it luckily they get it.

The last thing I said to you was don't leave me

The dog appeared this morning in a picture I took of Dr John Dee's skrying mirror at The British Museum.

Visions Of You

I had to venture into Mysteries of Covent Garden to buy some altar candles for my full moon ritual tonight. I have mixed feelings about that shop, they have a good selection of candles, incense and the odd decent book. Unfortunatley they also have 3 tons of 'angel cards', meditation cd's and vulgar new age tat to wade through before you get to it. They also have the most inefficient staff in town, ringing through items seems to take ages, they stare at the till like they are deciphering Coptic text and worse they offer readings...

I must confess at this juncture that I have actually been driven so insane by my own neurosis that I have had a reading at Mysteries. Years ago though, before I started to take responsibility for my feelings  and before I embarked on the path to emotional solvency. It was a terrible reading and a waste of money that I didn't really have since that was part of the problems I was somehow hoping that the reading would solve.

Yesterday there was this truly pathetic woman standing by the till waiting for her reading. Her energy was revolting actually, countenence spineless, confusion and self pity emanated from her emaciated frame. As I waited in line (for 20 fucking minutes) I considered saving her £35 and offering her the benefit of my experience seen and unseen. I would have said this.
1. You are a woman and a universe of life and death resides within you
2. He is not coming back
3. Eat something
4. Remember who you are
5. Find God
6. Rise the fuck up

Don't ring twice and it's alright

I thought I would up date you on some young peoples cultural codes. Tim tells me that when he and his friends are riding around on buses they spend the time checking out girls who get on the bus at the various stops. He told me that they listen out for the Oyster Card beep because (and who knew) the adult card beeps once and the child card beeps twice. He said when a cute girl of indescrimate age hops aboard they are all ears because they have an off limits policy on double beepers! How utterly responsible - it's hard to believe we are related at times.

Park Life

I walked home through Green Park from Knightsbridge. I had a little salt water in my eyes as I walked through one of Chillis favourite parks. I followed our usual path down to the dog fountain. A little Bluebird flew down to take a drink as I was standing there. A cute Squirrel stood and stared at me, it was very David Lynch.  It was beautiful, this park will out live us all. I was thinking about how grief opens the heart (to more pain ultimatley) but then the price of shutting out sadness is shutting out joy. The stakes are high. Even if we pay the price for love in tears, its still a bargain.

The seaside town that they forgot to close down

I woke up in Southend on Sunday morning. The problem with that is that it had involved leaving London and by the time I saw Canary Wharf disappearing behind me on the way out I was already having second thoughts. It seemed so grim when I was arriving, going through Basildon on the train didn't help me garner any enthusiasm and yet it all seemed quite pretty by the time I was on the way back home.  The two great things about London are leaving it and returning to it. I was texting Richard on the way - I told him I could see the sea, he asked me if if was like South Point, I told him it seemed more like No Point.   The English coast reminds me of being in rehab in Brighton about 19 years ago.  The Morrissey Song Every Day Is Like Sunday used to play on the radio all the time. I used to sing it around the house to annoy the staff.

I have not seen freedom before

I feel so different , last night Jo dedicated the serenity prayer at our meeting to Chilli. It was so sweet sometimes loss and sadness can feel isolating but I am lucky because I have so many friends that support me no matter what is going on. I do have a real sense of freedom today. I am learning that no matter what happens in life the best response is to accept what has happened, feel gratitude for the blessings of the situation, trust in God and move the fuck on.

Ain't no sunshine when shes gone

Just walked home from the benefit office via St James Park. Took a few deep breaths as I entered the park where we used to stand feeding the crows monkey nuts in the winter.  Every morning we used to go to the far corner nearest The Cabinet War Rooms and all the crows would sweep down from the trees and swoop screeching around our heads as I threw them nuts. Chilli would channel Keanu Reeves in Constantine.  It was beautiful – high gothic drama – like a scene from Armageddon.

My relationship with money is as on /off as ever. One minute I am laying on Miami Beach the next I am signing on. I have a real sense of the duality of the life force today. I can be happy and simultaneously sad, broken and stronger than ever before. I walk into my flat and say hello to the dog. A little sting of pain sounds in my chest but the music is beautiful. The good thing about having a broken heart is that it leaves you wide open. I worship a God that wants me on my feet.  

Faith, Hope & Courage

Ok I think I have completed a phase of grief now. I am wearing mascara and leaving the house.

Let me weep, let me sleep and dream of ....

God I thought I would die of grief yesterday. If I told you how many people I have lost in my life time you would think I was careless and the loss of a little dog was no less devastating.  Oceans of loss swept in and I really felt the pull of the cross currents dragging me down into the darker waters. As with everything acceptance is the key. I love my little dog and now she is gone from my home but will never leave my heart. I was talking to Jo about the Egyptian idea that when we died we went West with the sunset and then travelled through the underworld (they didn't know that we were a planet at the time) and were resurrected in the East with the sunrise. I will cry a rain cloud for her loss but I remember her best in laughter. She was an earth elemental,  a deeply grounded, funny, demanding spirit who knew nothing of compromise.

Better to have loved and lost ..

We put a little notice up in Pheonix Gardens this evening so her friends will know that she has gone. I feel desolate walking into an empty flat. I have no one to take to the park tomorrow.

The greatest love of all

I will never have another dog like you.

Chilli died this morning. She ate some chicken and rice and then began to have some sort of a seizure. I wrapped her in a blanket and we took a taxi to the vet. The vet said that the kindest thing was to let her go and I believed her. She gave her an injection as I held her in my arms and she was gone. I told her over and over that I loved her and I thanked her for everything she has given me.



I was given Chilli 13 years ago. I had been to New York and seen fantastic little fawn Chihuahua in Puppies & Kittens on Lexington. I wanted one so badly and when I got home my boyfriend at the time got one for me.

Chilli was an unusual creature, she was not a shakey little Chihuahua like some poor Paris Hilton pet. She was forthright, fierce and very fussy about who she wanted to befriend. She stalked the streets of Soho and Covent Garden liked she owned them because as far as she was concerned she did. Chilli drank hot milk in Bar Italia and ate Cakes in Maison Berteaux. She dominated Pheonix Gardens which was one of her daily haunts especially in Winter as Chilli did not really enjoy the rain. Her favourite walk was to St James Park and through to Green Park, all around Mayfair and back through Soho.

She was afraid of no-one, she would stand her ground against any dog no matter how large. She started fights that we were lucky to get out of alive. Chilli had so many friends, she made such a racket as she bounced down the street barking and hopping about. People often told us that they could hear us 5 minutes before we appeared.

Chilli like to travel on the tube and on the bus. She was an urban spirit and basically she just liked to come along. If I was going then she was coming that was her policy.

She started to get sick about a year ago, she had an airway condition common among her breed. She was slowly going into heart failure though of course a heart so strong could never truly fail. Our trips to the vet were more and more frequent. She had a cough that wouldn't go. I knew she was dying at the weekend, I thought she would go on Sunday but she stayed with me an extra day. We had a good day yesterday, I carried her to the park, she played with her friends. She had cuddles from some of her favourite people. She was happy enough but quiet.  I started to think that she might pull through afterall. I am so glad that she died in my arms after all the love she gave me I could not bear for her to die alone and afraid. She did not struggle, she did not take an extra breath she was ready to go and she died in peace.

The unbearable lightness of being

I had a macaroon for lunch and I still can't quite shake the feeling of restlessness and pointlessness that has pervaded my day. I keep thinking a huge slice of Red Velvet cake from Hummingbird would be the solution to my problems but if the macaroon didn't do it I doubt the cake will either. I will put that fine idea on the back burner until tomorrow and if it still feels like a solution it can be lunch.

The flowers of romance

Love for as long as it takes
Transfer
Repeat to fade

Breakfast

Avocado and cottage cheese; I love avocado and they are really nice at the moment. Some times the ones you can get from the supermarkets are awful either rock hard or rotten. It must be avocado season. The dog is still alive although she remains somewhat subdued probably due to all the drugs she had yesterday. I have a list of things to do, very few of which I want to do. I have to make appointments for various things, every line is jammed, everybody is spending Monday morning doing the same thing. One of my least favourite things is being told ' Your call has been placed in a .....' I hung up.

Clouds in my coffee

Listening to Carly Simon, You're So Vain. Decided to see if I could get 'clouds in my coffee'.

The heat is back on

Richard is about to get a new job, Thank God. I need to get one too but Richard covers the luxuries in my life and you know they say ' give me the luxuries and you will find I can manage quite well without the essentials'.

Breakfast

Melon, Granola and Frozen Yogurt. Really thought that the dog was going to die today. Took her out and she couldn't walk. Called the vet who told me to bring her in. Cried all the way to Victoria on the bus remembering that line in Carrie Fishers, Postcards From The Edge where she is talking about crying down the phone and refers to it as 'her least favourite version of herself'. My trousers are covered in slug like snot trails I think they cost £250 I can't remember. If I ever spend alot of money on myself I kind of disassociate and get very vague on the figure.
The vet shot the dog up with Morphine - she jerked when he put the syringe in and he slashed his hand with the needle. 'That should take the edge of your day' I laughed.
He didn't.

A prisoner of my own device

I had a really lucid dream the other night that I was a nun in a French Covent. I wore peasant clothes and had to do loads of cleaning and stuff, a bit like now except I have great clothes and don't clean much. I climbed out of a really high window and started to run through the grounds to escape. Every time I managed to get through one of the doors or gates I was really afraid and I would try and jam the lock open so that I would be able to get back in.

Dog grant me the serenity

The dog seemed pretty ill when I got home from the Goetic Evocation that I attended in the afternoon. It was a wonderful ritual and we had a really interesting talk beforehand about angels and demons and various different approaches to contacting them. The Christian church would say Just Don't. Previously they would have said Just Don't followed by Inquisition and death by burning. It's funny when you discuss burning at the stake people often say, well really its the smoke that kills you (so not to worry). Actually on the subject of The Inquisition (which ended in 1640 so we have the all clear), I went to see The Devils by Ken Russell at The Barbican last week which was pretty grim. Lots of naked nuns masturbating on Christ and then a hideous torture scene at the end which I didn't actually watch because I fled the auditorium. John said 'Well it's not for the faint hearted dear', then admitted to being severely traumatised for the rest of the week because he didn't have the sense to run when I did. 

So we were talking about having our heads in heaven and our feet in hell and the process of asimilating our light and dark aspects, almost similar to a theraputic process infact. Freud was able to make useful analogies between human neurosis and demonic personalities so its not as far fetched as it might sound. Anyway it was brilliant and then we had a demonstration which was interesting. There was this really camp bit when the enochian calls of the Magician were interspersed by Chakka Khan singing I'm Every Woman blasting up from some Gay barbeque downstairs.

This evening I took the dog over to Baker Street for a slice of Bob's low GI fruit pie. She couldn't walk so I carried her as we sat on the tube I remembered a woman coming up to us in an AA meeting. She played with the dog and said 'DOG is GOD spelt backwards that dog is looking after you'. I was crying into her little head on the train because it's really true. My dog was given to me 13 years ago by a man I lived with at the time. I have been through some pretty challenging periods since then and she has always been with me. She got me out of bed when I was too depressed to wash. She gave me love and structure and introduced me to so many nice people. This little tiny dog has loved me everyday no matter what, she has always been there for me she is always pleased to see me. Over the last few years my life has got really good, I am not sad anymore, I learnt how to look after myself eventually, I am strong now, I am happy.  I know she will go soon because I do not need her anymore.

On any given day

Chilli and I started the day in the damp church yard at St Giles. She is really slow these days, I don't think she will live much longer but this morning she was happy enough sniffing about. St Giles Church used to be absolutley overflowing with bodies. Richard gave me a book about London's dead and it explained how before the government granted licences to private cemetery companies around 1840 , that London church yards had to cope with burying all of the cities dead. The problem was that during in the first part of the 19th century Londons population doubled. Church Yards like St Giles used to bury people and then soon after dig them up and throw them into a lime pit that stood in the church grounds so they could sell the space to someone else. Grave robbing was a common  and poor burial practice left the city rife with desease. Apparently the area near Sardinia Street by LSE was awash with putrification. The dog and I went to have a check aound christmas time but its long been cleaned up now.

I met a friend later in Dean Street Townhouse for breakfast. We had the most irritating waiter ever. He didn't speak or understand enough English to take our order properly. Then when everything came he just wouldn't go away. He was constantly reaching over us rearranging things, removing stuff etc. Some one told me that correct etiquette with waiting staff is that when they bring things to your table you continue talking to the people you are with but thank the waiter / waitress as they leave. I do try to do this but this guy was forever in our way and it was really difficult not to dry up as he came back for yet one more thing. Anyway we had a good time talking about holidays, botox and things we hate but when we left the stupid bitch hostess ran up the street after us and asked us if we had paid! You would think that if you ran a restaurant that charged the cost of a weeks groceries for one meal that you might invest in training your staff.  

Laduree & Puppies

Just got back from Laduree  in Harrods I had one caramel macaroon, one blackcurrant and chocolate (ltd edition flavour) one lemon and  one cherry and almond. To drink I had hot chocolate that comes in a little silver jug with a side bowl of chantilly cream. Basically a days calories in a tea cup.

There is a new branch of Laduree opening opposite the Apple store in Covent Garden soon.  I can't wait. I don't eat at Laduree as often as I would like for many reasons including the expense and fitting into my own clothes but I am so happy that I will have a branch on my door step. It the nutrition version of 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'. We went up to the 4th floor to see the puppies in Pet Kingdom. They had mini sausage dogs and chihuahua's but boringly they were all asleep. One of my favourite things to do in London is get macaroons from Laduree and go and look at the puppies. A couple of years ago I had a job in Eaton Place and my friend Caren worked for Harvey Nicks nearby. A few times a week we would go to Laduree buy a couple of macs each and then go upstairs to look at the pups. It is my all time 2nd favourite date. The first would be a trip  to The Royal College Of Surgeons Museum on Lincolns Inn Field.

Good Morning

I am eating yogurt and Linzi's Low GI granola. I have just poured it into the Tesco plastic pot so its really not visually interesting enough to merit a photograph. I was going to go to the V & A today to see The Cult Of Beauty exhibition. I love the Pre Raphaelite period in art, it has in my opinion produced the best paintings and the best stories. My favourite is the terminal romance of Rossetti and Elizabeth Siddal, they were the Michael Hutchence and Paula Yates of their day. I would love to die for love but as St Augustine said Not Yet ,I have way too much to do.   I used to be a guide at Highgate Cemetery and Ms Siddal was buried there in a section called the meadows. I loved to tell the story of how when after a long struggle (not that she put up much of a fight) with Laudinum addiction and her tempestuous romance with Dante, she took her own life. He was so full of grief guilt that he buried a book of his poetry with her and 6 years later when his alcoholism robbed him of his talents he applied to the home office to have her body exhumated so he could get his poems back. The home office saw this as a perfectly reasonable request and so the light of the full moon shone once again on what remained of her face as his precious poems were retrieved. A true gothic romance.

Have your cake and eat it

I thought I would tell you about my pigeons. I live by Trafalgar Square so I am lucky enough to have lots of birds hanging around on my window sill. I love them and I feed them and nothing Boris Johnson says is going to stop me. The white one is my favourite since she is the most Dove like of them all. The Dove is a Christic symbol of the holy spirit and a pagan symbol of lust. Sex and God are very clearly connected in the old religions. The newer religious super powers have conspired to supress this knowledge by preaching that sex is sin (except on their terms) and propegating notions of God as some kind of heavenly judge that requires the sacrific of pleasure in this life in return for ever lasting love in the next world. 

How did I get to live near Trafalgar Square you may well ask. The answer is I wished it. One day I was sitting on the 24 bus outside this building and I saw that it was being redeveloped by a housing trust. I thought to myself how much I would like to live here. When I was little I used to stand staring at the bridge that runs across Villiers Street and pray that I would live there one day. Anyway I just looked out of the bus window and wanted with all my heart. 10 days later a letter came through my door asking me if I would like to transfer from the council flat I lived in to a housing association flat in the West End. I said Yes and they gave me the keys to flat I had been looking at.

I absolutely believe that we can all have exactly what we want if we simply want it enough and are willing to accept it.

Absolution

Even getting into a bath was an effort this morning. Such a grim rainy day outside. Managed to drag myself to St James with dog wonder which was nice. The rain keeps London green its one of the reasons that this city is so beautiful.
10 things I am grateful for today
Lunch with Charlie & Rachel at 2
Dog
Computer
Tan
Hair appointment at 4
God (inclusive of angels and demons)
My Vanessa Bruno jumper
Sense of humour (though its kind of flagging)
Prada later this evening
My friends

God dwells in me as me

I woke feeling at the mercy of my moods this morning, not a good thing at all. Anxiety, despair, emptiness and intolerance the horsewomen of my personal apocalypse all saddled up and ready for battle.  I awake already exhausted. In Miami where there was no structure I carved a gentle rhythm into my day. Here in London it feels like I am surrounded by chaos and uncertainty and organising my life around it feels overwhelming.

I need to find another job soon. I look at the employment websites and the jobs all sound absolutely hideous. I am hardly qualified to do any of them anyway. I wouldn’t want to if I was. I have never engaged with all that career stuff. I don’t much care about what I do or what you do, I am so much more interested in who we are. I need to earn a living though, I need to retain my independence somehow, so I feel forced to engage with the hostile environs of the situations vacant columns.

What I really want to do is finish the writing I started in Miami and sell it. I am not sure if it is even saleable but I do see so much rubbish published I don’t see why not. I find it so much harder to write in London but I am going to have to find the discipline. Spending an hour trawling through the Guardian Job Pages put me in such a bad mood yesterday. I am forced to draw on inner rather than outer resources. Jo was watching Eat Pray Love last night she sent me an email reminding me of the great line of the film ‘God dwells in me as me’    I’ll take that as a starting point then.

Dinner

I am really trying to fill my emptiness with food today. I hate that, it doesn't work and it will lead to weight gain. So for dinner I had mozzerella, tomato and pesto. So far today I ate fruit, granola and yogurt, 3 macaroons and this. It's not a lot but today it feels a lot. I was thinking about a time when I was staying with Richard in Hotel Bristol in Paris. It is a super expensive hotel very much like the one in Wes Anderson's short film Hotel Chevalier which is well worth a watch. Anyway Hotel Bristol was something like 650 Euro's a night and we ordered tons of room service since Richards company (who he hated) was picking up the bill. I had a mozzerella salad and it cost 30 Euro's. How insane is that? One tomato, one ball of cheese, drizzle of pesto 30 Euro's. The salad I just ate cost about £2, the cheese was about 90p, the tomato £1.04 and the pesto I already had in the fridge. It's quiet a mark up nes pas?

Lunch

Lunch today was three Pierre Herme macaroons from the concession in Selfridges. One Rose, one caramel, one chocolate, banana, ginger and passion fruit. Fabulous.

I have always loved you, you have taught me plenty

Taurus new moon today.

The taste of honey

Another perfect day in West London began at 12.30 with lunch in Holland Park Road. It was a little cooler than it looked but we sat under the trees that line the avenue. I'll buy you lunch if you help me clear out my wardrobe. I felt like I was exploiting her dreadfully as I ordered a tiny bit of Salmon for £17!

She ordered an Asparagus salad. I think only people who hate sex eat Asparagus to be honest, I didn't like to probe. However, if you are interested Sasha Grey (my favourite porn star though I do worry about whether or not she is in over her head) does this whole You Tube thing about swallowing spunk and she is says the single most important thing is not to eat asparagus, followed by not smoking. I feel clear that this must also apply to women because Asparagus makes your pee stink so it follows that all secretions would smell and taste equally hideous.

Anyway 3 hours and 4  gardening sacks later I realised that it was me that was being exploited and that I should have kept on ordering. It would be unkind to criticise a friends dress sense but I will say this, if you fancy yourself in a diaphanos bias cut crepe sequined numbers in colours chosen by (I kid you not) an 'aura reader' then get yourself down to the charity shop in Notting Hill Gate because your ship is about to come in.

Sunday morning brings the dawn in

I just had the best Sunday ever. I went over to a meeting in Notting Hill and heard a really powerful female speaker, strong US recovery, she was amazing it was like being back in Miami. In Miami I went to meetings every day with a note book because I knew I would hear the most amazing helpful things. Since I have been back in London although its been great to see my friends I really have not been thus inspired until today. The woman was amazing she was talking about the problems that occur when we attempt to dilute the programme for the sensitive, vulnerable or special member (ie any of us). It was truly inspiring, I feel extremely lucky to have heard her.

A few of us went to lunch at Otto Pizza, 6 Chepstow Road. They have the best salads and also do a gluten free pizza with all kinds of interesting toppings including fig and pancetta, corn and mushroom and marcasepone and pesto. I was being super virtuous and sticking to salad and then my frienemy ordered a massive pizza and made me eat loads of it.

We walked to her place in Holland Park and then all the way back to Covent Garden in an attempt to burn of some of the calories. It was delicious though. Definately go next time you are in Westbourne Grove.

We wandered back through Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park, it was lovely but we were absolutely maced by the falling pollen from the London Plane Tree's. 



Freedom Is A Double Edged Sword

I was thinking of Sebastian yesterday. He would have been alive this time last year. I was talking to Jo about some of the things he used to say about attraction,  love, sexuality and the suffocation of these energies that can often happen when we get into relationships. I wanted to say 'traditional relationships' but to be honest my experience is that even when you engage outside of these boundaries it is likely that you will experience similar issues. The advantage is of course that walking away is easier.