Salve Regina.

I want to give you the best of everything that I can offer because you're my Queen, because you do everything and feel it so much even if I think it's wrong, and because you thrust away any crown that comes your way, preferring to pull strings behind scenes. I want to give you things you would like; no jewels or coronets, my time, scrawlings with pens and pencils, and maybe a cake, or to clean for you. Nursery child offerings appreciated with effusive tones and with little point, a blackmailed gratitude because the gifts are useless, though what I want to show is my service and allegiance, not because I agree with what you think but because I agree with you. You looked happily tired tonight. Your cheeks got redder and redder, and you'd made an effort with purple polyester. You put a hand to my shoulder, when I was feeling shy and shyer, and somehow that made it alright. I need to perfect the art of silence around you, usually I can do it. I need to stop saying, "that is good" or making value statements about work I've done that demand verification or denial or talking too much, or doing a louder than it needs to be laugh, or flirting. I think that all these things must make me irritating. I don't want to be. I want to be like you and liked by you. I need your value statements because you're what I'm setting my stock by.

Paper Whims and what they mean.

I gave you a ten-pence broadsheet
Which had what you wanted inside
Though it didn't print the way I meant it
A marriage of your views and mine
Editor presiding, of course.
Not my title and half my style
Your words through me
Ardent and mild, I'm a convex lens
Reflecting you correct enough.
I could have said other stuff
But didn't. My offering lost out
To what's in store, someone else
Coming after can do it better.
Sorry. Grey page, black letter.

Things I wish I could make you think of me.

1. I'm lovely, beautiful, thin.

2. I am a person of integrity.

3. I'm clever.

4. I'm modest, or at the least confident without boasting.

5. I'm an effective person.

6. That I'm not an arse.

These seem self defeating. Modesty counterbalances the wanting her to think the rest of the things. I don't think she will think them. I am skewed to point one: not even beautiful, or lovely, but thin. If I was thin then the rest wouldn't matter, I'm sure. Why do I think that? I link thin with everything else. Thin is effective, not an arse, lovely, beautiful, clever, modest, integrity. I suppose being thin is making a statement without making one; it's saying, I'm barely there, but look, I am there, I'm thin. Look but don't look because you can barely see me. Effective because I am running so well off the food I eat. I consume just enough, not too much, I've got it exactly right, I can survive on whatever you give me, I can survive without even. I'm not an arse because there isn't enough of me here to be one.

Oh god.

I'm incredibly narcissistic and I drive myself mad.

Musing

You're no Helen Mirren.

I'm no Penelope Cruz.

We don't judge each other like that.

But nor am I a Mother Teresa

No earthly martyr. No pale saint

Though pale enough, no doubt.

So I do fall short to you.

And your short falling makes me adore you more.

It's hard.


Your life funiculates your face and I wouldn't rid you of a single year.

Anemochral tide swept me to you.

Solutions

Here is the problem:

I am thinking too much about the way others perceive me.

I am not thinking too much about others, but the way that it's about ME so what I need to do is think less about me and more about other people.

The solution is to get into other people more.

I should not try to pretend to be a martyr or a perfect person because noone is. I am not Sleeping Beauty.

I should look to others more than myself and worry whether they are happy not whether I am happy about what they think. There's a difference.

I don't want to be the narcissistic jealous person I am.

I'm not a brilliant person, and I badly want to be.

I wrote an article I was really proud of, and I've just found out someone else will do one that's a million times better. I hate that I feel jealous and not as proud of what I've done because it'll be blown out of the water by someone else now.

I'm resentful about being the eldest child.

I say stupid things that must mark me out as a loser.

A man tonight asked me for my email address and I gave it because I didn't know how not to. I'm going to have to see him again. He helps out at the House, so I can't tell the Lady of the House, because she... might think I'm silly, and would know something else I should have done? It was my fault for not handling it right. I don't want to tell Mum because she'll freak out about it and worry too much. I'll probably tell a friend.

I wish I could be quietly passionate, like the Lady of the House, I wish I had the way of saying just what I think and not anything else, I wish... but wishing doesn't make the world go round. I wish I was successful. I wish.

I've gone over the count today.

4 biscuits, 2 marylands 2 cookies- 280

an apple-40

a cappucino-100

420

1/2 a bacon sandwich and a smoothie-300

some rice-100

400

two slices of bread-250

sugar puffs-114

a mars ice cream-143

400

Oh. Not as bad as I thought, if quantities are right, and I did a bike ride and an audition.

I really want a callback for the audition but I don't think I'll get one. They didn't look at me that way.

The Lady of the House (I think this is what I'll call her)- I made a promise to her today, and I can't keep it, and I feel bad that I'll have to ring her tomorrow and tell her. I feel sad about it.

Ugh.

Here are the things I'm doing next week:

Monday- HAND IN JOB APPLICATION and netball
Tuesday- day out on the waterart front. Yoga?
Wednesday-PASdance
Thursday-Streetdance?
Friday
Saturday-party housewarming. Help at shop?

I should also:

check on the jobs I've applied for and go to the bar in town
Write letters back to people that have written to me
apply for more things

Sunday-