I have just found a blog in Icelandic (I assume). I will write it here in case it has any interest but I'll put it backwards as any linking between us will probably not have much future. addib.blogspot. The 'most recently published' thing is becoming stupidly addictive especially as they are gone within a couple of minutes so have an exciting fickle hand of fate quality.

I give in........... I am sitting here bored and cross and not sure what to do about the future and not sure if I need to do anything about the future. I had a very realistic dream last night where I had just met someone who I felt really happy with. He had come to our house for dinner, just with me and the children and they were being wary with him but I didn't care because I liked him so much and he liked me and he made stupid jokes and we were relaxed and HAPPY. And when I woke up it felt strange as I have forgotten what that is like.

My husband is a very peculiar man and I am afraid of starting out on trying to explain my situation because it is so f@cking annoying when anyone doesn't accept exactly what I say, because what I say is the truth. This is not an interesting account. It isn't about big, cruel secret perverted things. It is one of those French films where nothing happens for five minutes and then someone turns away and lights a cigarette.

I will write a little bit and then some more later.

Although shy, I was pretty and wore amusing clothes and had an innate understanding of cool. Maybe because I read so much, not only books of every kind but also endless magazines and I liked experimental foreign films and foreign music and so was naturally accepted as the girlfriend of clever, good-looking alpha males who felt that they had a cutting-edge quality but also a poetic, pilosophical, searching druggily for the meaning of life side too. Because I lived in a university town there were plenty of these to go round and for some time I was part of whatever 'inner circle' was on offer. Some of these people have ended up quite famous. None of my closest friends though. When my age group moved to London I went too and for two or three years had a very interesting and wild time. The point was that at every stage I was behaving in a way that you could look back on later and think, 'Well, at least I didn't waste my youth away. There were the opportunities and I took them'. (This is obviously relative. I could have taken millions more opportunities if I'd been more confident).

Meanwhile, on a parallel path, my husband was a student at the same university but I had not met him yet. We were there together but he was drawn to the 'Brideshead Revisited' side of life and spent his time drinking port in pannelled rooms and driving to outlying estates wearing tweed knickerbockers to shoot pheasants. He was happiest when his life most approximated to that of a grand house in the 18th century and spent his summer vacations travelling around Europe looking at paintings or salmon fishing in remote parts of Scotland. He was not a great one for the ladies and had a rather dull girlfriend, who he met while they were at school, for years and then dumped her rather meanly and became the 'friend' who goes round with established couples. I am not implying that he was at all gay, he was just quite shy and was happy pottering with his art and fishing and especially wine and food. He was also really sweet and enthusiastic (well, about those things) and rather nerdy and perfect to accompany various couples so they didn't get too bored with each other on their country house weekends.
In fact his life continued exactly like that for years - until he finally met me.
- posted by Iris @ 1/19/2004 12:49:00 AM comment