Monday, 29 March 2010

Happy

I have spent the afternoon at an Underground Farmers Market. Sample conversation before setting off:

"You aren't a farmer"

"Indeed, well spotted".

"What, actually underground? In the tube station?"

"No. Underground as in subversive"

"And why are you selling biscuits? You are a lawyer".

"Can we not go into that now? I don't have a satisfactory answer. Or even an answer".

"Is there cannabis in your biscuits?"

"No. But I am beginning to wish there was".


It was fun. I have never seen so much cake in a confined space and now I feel quite, quite sick. I sort of wanted to eat it all and my stomach sort of wanted me to lie in a darkened room with a small glass of Badoit.


This is only a tiny post, since I have to get up in about 4 hours and get the first, cruellest train back to Belgiana. A train so early that only the most hardened and fanatical Euromentals take it. I am a little afraid. They will probably thrust Directives under my nose like Jehova's Witnesses brandishing copies of The Watchtower, and ask me intensely if I have heard the good news about Customs harmonisation and whether I truly believe that Herman Von Rompuy is our saviour. I will be cultivating a hatchet-faced expression of euroscepticism. I probably won't wash either, just to be really safe.


But before I go and sleep just long enough to be properly disorientated when I am wrenched awake shortly, I wanted to show you a picture. It is a terrible, fuzzy picture. But when I saw it, I felt strangely reassured.



That's me on Thursday night. And I look very very happy.


(I am laughing hopelessly at this:



The very very funny man on the left reading bits of Kiss & Ride. In a dour, deadpan Belgian accent. He was so brilliant that on several occasions I just couldn't read my bits for laughing. There were lots of other bits of Tall Tales that also made me make this face. They were all very very brilliant).

That's all. I look happy. I was happy. I am happy, a great deal of the time. Maybe I don't mention that enough. Lots of people write to me, very thoughtfully, very touchingly. They tell me they worry about me from far away, that they want things to be ok for me, often that they too have been through hard things and survived, or that they are going through hard things and get something positive out of reading about my hard things. Those kinds of messages are one of the best things about writing this blog. They are an unsolicited gift, a kindness of strangers and a really cherish them. So look, kind, wonderful strangers. I can do happy. And actually, that's partly down to you. So thank you.

21 comments:

Anonymous said...

yay! Way to go.

zmkc said...

Is that funny man attached? Are you attached? I've only just started reading your blog so don't know your details (but love your blog). If neither of you are, could you be to each other? A funny man is the best kind, don't you think?

Anonymous said...

You have the joy (because it is this blog it should be delivered in the same accent as you have the clap/blues/eczema. EmmaWaffle=joy .

the polish chick said...

it's a lovely picture. keep it. frame it. put it on your fridge.

and i told you - you started sounding way happier (even during the bad bits) after you moved out on your own. rock on!


WV: ungst - the opposite of angst

Veronica Wald said...

Not only do you look like you're having loads of fun - enough to make me laugh even before read your explanation - but you are also wearing très stylish shoes. Brava!

Jan said...

Oh good. I've been quietly lurking and also worrying about your mental state, but will worry no more. Back to lurking...

redfox said...

Hooray! I thought it might be the case, but it is nice to see you saying so for certain. I am so glad.

expateek said...

Holy cats, I didn't know you could do "happy"!

Well done, then. Convincing, and now we're all done worrying. Good on you! Best... xx

WrathofDawn said...

Da nada. That's what we're here for.

Well, that and the capybara therapy.

http://reluctantmemsahib.wordpress.com said...

But before I go and sleep just long enough to be properly disorientated when I am wrenched awake shortly ... what a perfect description of too-few hours. Perfect.

Jessica said...

YES. :)

(my validation word is "terse." nice.)

AliX said...

That's BRILLIANT to see you really letting it rip with laughter.

An excellent fuzzy picture. I agree, get this for the front of your fridge to reassure you that thinks ARE ok ;-)

Hope the Tourettes bix went down a storm.

Alison Cross xxxx

Eireann said...

:)

StroopWaffle said...

Why is it that Badoit is the only fizzy mineral water that can adequately deal with indigestion due to over consumption? I can scarcely lay my hands on it here in Amsterdam....mores the pity
Hope your euro-hatchet face protected you from the worst excesses of mondayishness - delurking to say I am delighted to see you smiling and laughing

Laura Jane said...

Hey!!! Happy and blurry - your favourite combination!!!!!

A career in performance poetry awaits!

Lovely to see you in this state, Em

Iheartfashion said...

What a great photo! Sounded like you were a resounding success. Brava!

Jaywalker said...

ZMCK - If my life were a Richard Curtis film, that would totally happen. It's more of a Todd Solonz. But I totally agree about funny men.

WoD - Where the fuck IS that capybara.

StroopWaffel - It's because the bubbles are very small and gentle. Mmmm Badoit.

Lisa-Marie said...

I am glad you are happy. You make us all Laugh(with you, might I add) so I'm glad something has you laughing too.

MsMarmitelover said...

I so wish I had come to this but was too bogged down with preparations...they have some good comedy nights on there.
Do let me know when you perform again...

zmkc said...

But you are both pretty and funny - what could go wrong? Oh life, I forgot. Sorry.

'NEEN at 9 BEAN ROW said...

I really love this post. It makes me happy just to read it, even though I have never met or heard of you, or worried about your mental state ;)

Found you through Ms ML's blog. The cussing biscuits are fantastic.