"We don't reach the light through endless analysis of the dark." Everyday Miracles Affirmations--Marianne Williamson.
A thoughtful update from a friend on Facebook. It had an accompanying link You could press the back button and get more and more inspired depending on how much time you had and how many miracles you needed. If you had no pressing schedule, you could fill up your part-time status with full-time lies. But she was busy today with the F section. Fassbinder to Fellini. She had done all the E's in an hour, but the F's took longer.
"The key to a successful career is realizing that it's not separate from the rest of your life, but is rather an extension of your most basic self. And your most basic self is love." -- Marianne Williamson
She liked it. It was more inspiring than the job page in the Guardian or the Women Like Us e-mails. "Like Us" Like who? You mean women who are raising a child and in the process, the career has....Where did the career go? Oh yes, it's uhm...under that pile of nappies. In the toy bin. I have glued several arms onto several action figures. Where does that go on my CV? Nursing? Model building?
Women like Us. You mean the women who, once they give birth to the child, they actually look after it themselves? Yeah. Those women.
Vanita practiced the affirmations mantra style while her nails dried. She meditated in the lotus position with her eyes closed to the distractions of the living room. The cactus needed watering. Road tax needed paying. That was about it really. Her Lego had been put away long ago. She lead a tidy life now apart from her jaunts to Hackney. That bit was quite unkempt.
Vanita had been employed to tidy up Film Guy's dvd collection; archive his flat of floor to ceiling films. A to Z. Fellini before Hitchcock. Last Tango in Paris. Last Man Standing. The L section. Shuffle, reshuffle. He had every film and every analysis of every film that was ever made in his living room. Somehow, he managed to live there too. He would probably have a much better conversation with Isabella than I. And when I saw his flat, I was inspired to do some kind of Ikea magic on my own home or where ever he got those shelves from. Awed by his tidy life enshrouded in film.
A red globe lit up. "Eric Jacobs has sent you a gift on Mafia Wars." She hadn't seen Eric Jacobs since high school, but he was very generous with his gifts and always invited her to join him in fights. It was his sister she was friends with. Lisa was in Ohio now. He was a lawyer now, probably a successful one as he had a lot of time to play Mafia Wars. He probably played it from his oak or cherry desk. He probably played in between clients while his secretary did the follow up paperwork. She used to play it in between tidying up Lego and toys. It was something she could win at. She had more hotels than Donald Trump. She knew she was losing otherwise, or so it felt some days.
She became rather dedicated to Mafia Wars. It was frustrating. Her friends...really, her real friends on Facebook; most of them had real lives and therefore, not enough time to take down an incoming shipment of cocaine off the Bay of Naples or furnish pistols for a duel in Cuba. She needed more helicopters. Despite her arsenal, she was losing fights as her mafia was too small. It was time for tactics. "Add 500 mafia members now". She thought of it, but hated to litter her facebook page with hundreds of strangers for the sake of winning a few wars. She valued her privacy.
And so, for the sake of her privacy, Fiona Tyne was born. Fiona was a lovely name. A lot of twenty year olds smoking outside the nearby art school were called Fiona. It was shrek's girlfriend's name too. She googled "beautful woman...sexy woman" and came up with the perfect profile pic, then changed it for an photo of herself which her boyfriend had taken in his black and white phase.
Fiona was a man magnet. If she needed a private jet to get to the next stage of the game or fifty helicopters to boost her fire power, Fiona could get them for her right away. Fiona was popular worldwide. Many men wrote to her wanting to be more closely acquainted. She kept it brief. She only wanted to play the video game. She was a model who sometimes lived in New York or London. She could always be away on a shoot in case they ever dropped into town. She had to be somewhere as she didn't exist.
A thoughtful update from a friend on Facebook. It had an accompanying link You could press the back button and get more and more inspired depending on how much time you had and how many miracles you needed. If you had no pressing schedule, you could fill up your part-time status with full-time lies. But she was busy today with the F section. Fassbinder to Fellini. She had done all the E's in an hour, but the F's took longer.
"The key to a successful career is realizing that it's not separate from the rest of your life, but is rather an extension of your most basic self. And your most basic self is love." -- Marianne Williamson
She liked it. It was more inspiring than the job page in the Guardian or the Women Like Us e-mails. "Like Us" Like who? You mean women who are raising a child and in the process, the career has....Where did the career go? Oh yes, it's uhm...under that pile of nappies. In the toy bin. I have glued several arms onto several action figures. Where does that go on my CV? Nursing? Model building?
Women like Us. You mean the women who, once they give birth to the child, they actually look after it themselves? Yeah. Those women.
Vanita practiced the affirmations mantra style while her nails dried. She meditated in the lotus position with her eyes closed to the distractions of the living room. The cactus needed watering. Road tax needed paying. That was about it really. Her Lego had been put away long ago. She lead a tidy life now apart from her jaunts to Hackney. That bit was quite unkempt.
Vanita had been employed to tidy up Film Guy's dvd collection; archive his flat of floor to ceiling films. A to Z. Fellini before Hitchcock. Last Tango in Paris. Last Man Standing. The L section. Shuffle, reshuffle. He had every film and every analysis of every film that was ever made in his living room. Somehow, he managed to live there too. He would probably have a much better conversation with Isabella than I. And when I saw his flat, I was inspired to do some kind of Ikea magic on my own home or where ever he got those shelves from. Awed by his tidy life enshrouded in film.
A red globe lit up. "Eric Jacobs has sent you a gift on Mafia Wars." She hadn't seen Eric Jacobs since high school, but he was very generous with his gifts and always invited her to join him in fights. It was his sister she was friends with. Lisa was in Ohio now. He was a lawyer now, probably a successful one as he had a lot of time to play Mafia Wars. He probably played it from his oak or cherry desk. He probably played in between clients while his secretary did the follow up paperwork. She used to play it in between tidying up Lego and toys. It was something she could win at. She had more hotels than Donald Trump. She knew she was losing otherwise, or so it felt some days.
She became rather dedicated to Mafia Wars. It was frustrating. Her friends...really, her real friends on Facebook; most of them had real lives and therefore, not enough time to take down an incoming shipment of cocaine off the Bay of Naples or furnish pistols for a duel in Cuba. She needed more helicopters. Despite her arsenal, she was losing fights as her mafia was too small. It was time for tactics. "Add 500 mafia members now". She thought of it, but hated to litter her facebook page with hundreds of strangers for the sake of winning a few wars. She valued her privacy.
And so, for the sake of her privacy, Fiona Tyne was born. Fiona was a lovely name. A lot of twenty year olds smoking outside the nearby art school were called Fiona. It was shrek's girlfriend's name too. She googled "beautful woman...sexy woman" and came up with the perfect profile pic, then changed it for an photo of herself which her boyfriend had taken in his black and white phase.
Fiona was a man magnet. If she needed a private jet to get to the next stage of the game or fifty helicopters to boost her fire power, Fiona could get them for her right away. Fiona was popular worldwide. Many men wrote to her wanting to be more closely acquainted. She kept it brief. She only wanted to play the video game. She was a model who sometimes lived in New York or London. She could always be away on a shoot in case they ever dropped into town. She had to be somewhere as she didn't exist.
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