I thought I’d tell you an incoherent story. Back in November things started going seriously wrong for me. It was a combination of difficult situations topped with my sense of not belonging here. I cannot tell you how many times I thought I had lost it completely.

I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to eat. Or, I only wanted to sleep. I only wanted to eat.

I wanted to be alone. When I was alone, I was angry for feeling so lonely. When I was with people I had nothing to say to them. Every day was a mountain of chores and the despair was increasing. And gradually, I stopped writing here, which has always been an immense pleasure to me. I think I also became unreasonable. Increasing helplessness makes you unreasonable.

When you feel desperate and helpless other people notice. And you see the reflection of your despair in their eyes. So you don’t want to meet them anymore.

Someone said I was depressed. I thought, I am not just depressed; I am absolutely submerged in this unhappiness. So, no, I was not depressed.

A day came when I seriously doubted my ability to live. Sometimes, in the night, everything seems easy. It’s easy to just stop, or so it seems. In the morning, there was always a new flicker of hope, but the nights were becoming more and more difficult.

I talked to my sister, I talked to M, I talked to Blondie. I told some of it to some of you. But for a while, nothing happened. Then, things started to change a bit, after my birthday in March (which I didn’t celebrate). And then I went to those trips. The first one was good, the second was better. Considering, of course.

When I was in Britain, I had lots of time for myself. I thought I had to create a new basis for my life. One that would include other people of course, but that wouldn’t depend on them being here, all the time, forever and ever.

I don’t know how many miles I walked, just thinking. It made me feel so powerful and in control. I know I don’t want to be here in Athens. There is no inspiration and even M who loves it here remarked one day as we were lying in the park in Richmond, that I looked like an animal in its habitat.

Also, I want to have more friends. I want to go out with friends and do things. And I don’t just want best friends. I have best friends. I want good people around me. At the same time I want to be more independent and push myself more.

Does it make any sense to you?

So that’s it. I wanted you to know why I made myself scarce. And to say thanks again, because you stayed right here during all the craziness.

Blackcrag has given me some homework, things he wants me to write. I have a week packed with posts to meet my deadline. Blackcrag is so strict.

It’s the most wonderful day. Nothing extraordinary happened, but it just is (or am I on one of my highs? Hope not). It’s wonderful to live. I wanted to let you know.

"It is Wonderful to live. My sword rusts In the pleasant rain. "

Kenneth Patchen from "Gautama in the Deer Park of Benares"

This is not my nephew, but being a relatively new arrival, he doesn’t like being photographed.

A new hope has come into the world: My beautiful nephew. He was born last night. Likes: Eating his hand (as opposed to just sucking his thumb). Dislikes: Everything else.

It must be something I ate

Here is the restaurant I went to last night for my friend’s birthday

I haven’t come down from my high yet, in case you were wondering. It must have been something I ate. And it went on while I went out to pay bills and had to walk in the -excruciating- heat. So it must have been something pretty potent. My brain produces a natural drug I am addicted to. Finally, can I say, my friend Steve is going away on a big adventure this weekend, and I wish him all the luck in the world. I am sure he won’t need it, because he is so well prepared, but just in case. Good luck Steve, may the force be with you. And the farce too.

The nice lady next door made coffee buns and brought me some this morning

I am too happy today to write something coherent. It’s a bright day, my friends and family are healthy, it’s Anna’s (my friend since we were 10) birthday, we are going out to celebrate, my sister is coming back from Morocco, it’s a new month, the weekend is near, I made huge progress with your care packages, erm, can’t think of anything else, except that it’s one of these days. See you when I come down from this natural high. In a few hours probably.

Funniest Song: Feng Shui by Gnarls Barkley

Isn’t breakfast the best meal of the day? Because you can eat all you want without remorse. And it’s not fussy and you can gulp it down while reading the papers or your friends’ blogs, or Real Simple (this magazine is one of my latest obsessions. I went out last night during a blizzard in order to buy it).
My favourite breakfast is the one a good lady used to make for me while I was staying in a bed and breakfast in Edinburgh and was flat hunting. Because I was outside all day, going from door to door and begging for a flat, that was my only proper meal. This good lady would also look in the ads section for me (I stayed in that B&B for a month) and she would always make a double portion of scrambled eggs for me. And the TV was on and I loved watching the morning news there. Because it was all about the weather. I think weather discussions make for good breakfast material. Somehow it is very comforting to me to think “oh that’s what’s important today, the weather, nothing bad has happened yet”.
I have been searching for breakfast recipes online and found lots and lots and it seems that people all over the world like eggs for breakfast, or pancakes, although pancakes go by a hundred different names.
So here’s my recipe for a good breakfast:
-Bach for breakfast, especially the violin concertos. Louis Armstrong is great too.
-Extensive weather reports but the calm reports variety (in Greece the news is a drama of epic proportions)
-No bad news before 11 o’ clock
-That’s strictly a personal oddity but I have found others who share it with me: No conversations, no telephone calls, before 11 o’ clock (okay, that depends on what time you normally get up. I get up at 8 and I need about 3 hours to get into a sociable mood).
-Very good, strong coffee
-If I can have breakfast in a sunny room (especially one with a decent view) it really wakes me up.
Continuing the Nick Cave tribute, this is one of my favourite morning songs. Good day.

“Thank you for giving
This bright new morning
So steeped seemed the evening
In darkness and blood
There’ll be no sadness
There’ll be no sorrow
There’ll be no road too narrow
There’ll be a new day
And it’s today
For us”
New Morning – Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

Benaki Museum, a building I love

This has been Cultural Week for me. I went to another exhibition. This was by a famous –in Greece- set decorator and costume designer, Dionysis Fotopoulos, who has more or less worked in most of the theatrical productions that mattered in Greece. One part of the exhibition presents his collections of art objects and the other part is his costumes and set designs of more than 35 years. It was exquisite.

Then there was the Kiss Anniversary yesterday. Because I have known M. for more than I can remember as an on-off friend first, boyfriend later, father of our child much later, and husband much later, there are many anniversaries, but this is the one that matters most to me, because that was the day he was set apart from the world in my head. So we went out to dinner and exchanged gifts and cards (I got him dolls again. Well, not exactly dolls, just the dolls from Tim Burton’s movies. They rest on the mantelpiece now and they look cute from far away, but once you come closer, they are really creepy).

My son and I went to Starbucks yesterday. He saw an imitation of an ancient statue that portrays a bare-breasted woman. “Why are her breasts showing?” he asked me while touching them as if to make his point more valid. “Well, it’s no big deal, statues are often nude” I answer. And he frowns and points his little finger and tells me “But why is Truman’s fully dressed?”

P.S Yes, we do have Truman’s statue in Athens.