alien in Brabant

some people i know {virtually, mainly} describe their existence as if they've been accidentally plonked here on earth by aliens. that's how at odds they feel with the people around them, people they've grown up with, family members even...
i regularly feel this way about my life - aliens left me here, with no instructions manual - "go figure it out by yourself, mate..."

last night i spent an evening with one of my dad's cousins, a lovely, bubbly, unmistakable member of the Heijkoop clan, with their strong-willed women and kindly, compliant men... i was asked to come along with my mum, and so we drove off in her car after i'd finished work. i drove cos my mum is scared of getting lost. of the dark. of driving and getting lost in the dark. once inside her house, my dad's cousin made us feel very welcome, as if we'd only dropped by a few weeks before, only we hadn't seen the house yet. as she showed us around, i was struck by how similar it was to my place - slightly chaotic, filled with too much memorabilia from Life and people once in it. and as we got talking, the social confidence of the cousin felt like a breath of fresh air... she has no qualms about who she's talking to, will happily talk to anyone, doesn't care what others think of her, and finds things in common, to make you feel like you're okay... she felt more familiar than my own mum, who was engaging in pretty narrow-minded rants with the cousin's husband, and as i sat there, i thought: who is that woman?! how was i raised by this person?! how are my brother and  she related to me?!

it's true that {although i've felt at odds with society as long as i can remember} my family only really started to feel alien to me once i moved to England, and got to know the people who became important to me there. once i got to know ex, and his family. once i learnt how to be strong-willed myself, and to feel confident socially, and about being me, and that the things i was interested in, intrigued by, really liked, were unfamiliar to the rest of my family... this freaked them out. understandably... it freaked me out a little as well, but it also felt like it had to happen. and i'm happy that my dad kind of got me again, eventually...

the problem is: my mum has an issue with strong-willed women who are not under her spell... she needs people to be under her spell for her to feel she has 'power'. cos that's how she's learnt to feel okay enough. enough people think she's awesome, and in many ways she's a pretty amazing person, to have dealt with what life has thrown on her path. and i'm happy for her that she does have quite a few people in her life that feel she's great, and tell her so. i just wished she'd think of herself the way those other people rate her... but she doesn't, and unfortunately, she'll feel thrown off balance by those who don't get her that way... unfortunately, i'm one of those people...

it makes me feel sad, to know this. and it makes me feel a bit insecure when i'm around her. i don't know how to be her daughter... i wish i knew how to make her feel good about herself, but the merest thing will throw her off course and it annoys me to see her berate herself, to see her so negative, and scared and freaked out, and narrow-minded... it annoys me that i have to dodge her comments, aimed at people and things she despises {in which i can often recognise myself}... i know it's her innate fear coming out, but still...

there's probably something i'm having to learn from this...

summer things

the kids and i went on a week's holiday in the Eifel area of Germany,

and loved it there to bits...

♥

 

yardsticks

i love my job.
i get to sell stuff i believe in, talk to funny, sweet, inspiring, like-minded people {as well as some annoying ones, but knowing they'll leave again after a bit is great}, and never is one day the same as another. some things i have to do are routine, but there's never knowing when i get to do them... the people i work with are lovely as well, so i feel pretty grateful...

sometimes something happens to make me feel even more grateful... even though it may not seem so at first...

a few of the customers know about my EV hug {most have never heard of the guy, i've noticed...} because they've read this blog, or my FB post, and fewer still have referred to it. yesterday i got talking to someone i've known from the shop for a few years, and as a Reiki practitioner i've had a few personal chats with and some treatment from. she asked if i felt excited still. i answered yes. i then said that i also feel a bit silly about it. about what, she asked. about this adoring a bloke when i know that adoring others is silly. says who, she asked. says most people i read spiritual stuff from. and my ex. your ex? yes, but not just him... do you feel it's a childish thing? yup... so what? so everything... i was feeling a bit daft, talking to her by the dairy fridge, attempting to order yogurts and tofu. do you feel ashamed of feeling like this? she asked, kind of matter of fact... i felt i was a split second away from bawling my eyes out...

yes,
i feel ashamed.
i feel childish.
i feel pathetic for swooning over this guy, or other guys, for deep down still being the 19 year old who immersed herself into a world that only i was a part of, where no one judged me. where no one laughed at me, or thought i was an idiot or childish. where the likes of Eddie Vedder had time for me. for fuck's sake - i'm a 47 year old woman, mother of 4, with a marriage behind me. i have a job, i pay rent, and i own a car... i've lost my dad, which still feels awful, and i feel shit-scared of ever entering another relationship... and i swoon over a guy who's photo's of him as a 27 year old with long hair and shorts and DM's adorn my screensaver. a guy who hugged me, two weeks ago. a guy who made me feel amazing for a few days...

so yeah, i feel shame, for not being very mature. as defined by people like my ex. people i still seem to use as yardstick for my personal development. and i don't really know how to move on from that...

but at least i know what that feeling is now!

released

somewhere i have a bucketlist. on there are the things i'd ideally one day love to have done or learnt, or been to... most are fairly achievable, some only if i gain a lot of money, somehow, and others are just flights of fancy, only achievable by a Stroke Of Crazy Luck... some aren't even on the list, cos in my mind they are so un-achievable that i never even considered putting them on any list...

one of those has actually happened to me the other day...

i met Eddie Vedder...
i talked to Eddie Vedder...
i had a hug and a handshake and a smile from Eddie Vedder.....
i was in the presence of the man i've been adoring and slightly idolising {even though i know he hates this} for more than 25 years.....

EDDIE FUCKING VEDDER?!??!!!

three weeks ago i saw him play in Amsterdam, which was the last of 3 shows he did there, and although i loved it, loved hearing his voice sing songs and chat away about stuff and seeing him in the distance, i left slightly underwhelmed, a little bit disappointed... i had no idea why... i felt more like i'd been to the cinema. i didn't feel a connection, a thrill, and it had felt like he was not as with it as he could've been, and how he seemed to have been on the nights previous. i just put it down to bad luck, to my too high hopes and pathetic need for him to be the Messiah i seem to be looking for... i had the poster, and the memories of the sing-alongs and thought that was that...

then i decided to try and get a ticket for his show in Antwerp, last Monday. it was tricky, cos many others were trying too, and on the FB page designated to this tour, many were writing about the Holy Grail that had become a ticket for Antwerp. i had put my name down on a site where tickets can be sold-on {at face value} and on the fanclub site, and kind of forgot about it.

something made me check my mails before i went off to bed, one evening after having spent a few hours on Youtube, which i don't usually do. there was one saying that a ticket had become available, did i want it? um... i thought... yes!!! said my heart... yeah, but what if a better ticket comes available....? said my head. like fuck it might... said my heart... you can always sell it on, the demand is big enough...

so i got the ticket...
and i had a week to wait...

last Monday i drove out to Antwerp, feeling apprehensive {Amsterdam had been a let-down, and i didn't want a repeat of that}, but Antwerp has a touch of magic for me. it always does. though it's 100x more chaotic and un-organised than anywhere in Holland, there also seems to be space for the Unplanned... i met up with someone i had gotten to know via FB, chatted and laughed and relaxed already...

the show was incredible... i was sat at a spot where i had a great view of the stage, close enough to have a connection, though not very close. i saw things happen i never knew about in the other show... the energy was unbelievable... Eddie Vedder was on amazing form, being deep and silly and touching and irreverent. his voice was great, his song choice was perfect. i laughed and sobbed my eyes out {he played Black, a song from 1991, which has been my favourite since i knew it, accompanied by the Red Limo String Quartet, a Dutch group that has been added to his entourage from the first show, and it became the most beautiful thing i've ever heard...} and sang along like my life depended on it... it was wonderful - in every way the show that Amsterdam 3 wasn't.

i was so thrilled that i decided to get the poster for this show anyway {hadn't planned to}, and my new friend and i decided to wait with some others for the chance that EV might make an appearance. this took another 90 minutes. it felt like i was in a surreal parallel universe, where i was the kind of person that was happily chatting away with total strangers, waiting outside the arena... it was nearly 2am by the time we spotted him coming out of the door, bottle of beer in his hand, and a security guy came to tell us what was expected of us {no photos, no autographs, no stupid shit, or Mr Vedder would be outta here}. the realisation hit me that the guy that was sauntering up to where we were - that was Eddie Vedder out there!?!! what the fuck?!!

he leisurely did his thing, talking to some, hugging others, being engaged, very generous with his attention and friendliness. i was admiring this, as he inched closer to where i was. he seemed such a lovely bloke. easy-going, sweet, funny, short... {this struck me like a brick: he's so short!! and fit... and fucking good-looking... jeez...}

and then i was up... he looked at me with those beautiful eyes, and stuck out his hand {!!!} and i took it, mumbling thanks for his music, and the he said 'oh come here', and hugged me... and time stood still... it felt like a week, he hugged me... his body touched mine... he smelled of cigarettes, like i imagined he might... and then he moved on to the sweet, really nervous woman next to me, and i witnessed his engaging into her story, and his smile {those teeth!!}, and then on to the last three guys and he was bundled into a van and off he was...

i'm still trying to process what happened on Monday night... i cried buckets, as if something has been released, and i hope i've been freed of some crap notions, mainly the one where i was convinced that i was unworthy of Amazing Shit happening to me...

Amazing Shit in the form of Eddie Vedder...

fuck...

EV - i ♥ thee...

pretty adamant i was, a few months ago, that going to to see Eddie Vedder play live wasn't a good idea, for enough reasons... {as stated in this post...}

then i had a pretty clear insight that told me i was an idiot for not even trying, that i allowed myself to not have the awesome experiences i crave, because something in me will always sabotage this, out of some stupid self-preservation strategy... i was so angry with myself, so bloody pissed off, to have allowed myself to not even try to get tickets {had i not learnt anything about my dad passing away, how many chances he's let go cos he was worried about the consequences... not to mention Chris Cornell's death hitting me like a tonne of bricks...} so i made myself have another go, less than week before he would be opening in Amsterdam. and via the fanclub i managed to find someone who wanted to sell a second ticket for the Tuesday show, dithered for a few seconds, got told off by my oldest son {who was in the same house for a change} for dithering, and plumped for the ticket...

and so came last Tuesday, and i had a delightful evening, in the presence of so many like-minded fans, singing away to Pearl Jam songs, his solo-stuff, The Beatles {"HEYY!! you've got to hide your love away..."}, Dylan, and his voice cut right through me, right to my soul... this man, whom i fell in love with when i was 22, who is still the love of my life {or rather: again...}, was finally so close to me... both physically and spiritually... and he was in such great spirits!!

so, although the heavy emotion from the Saturday wasn't there, and he wasn't as sharp as he'd liked to have been, i'm so f*&^%ing grateful to have been there... ♥

♥

EV
early nineties

♥

EV
May 2017
♥

black hole {son}

back in the days that i got to know about Nirvana, and then Pearl Jam, it seemed like Music was finally not just fantastic to listen to {as an emerging adolescent} - these bands had the same feeling of alienation, of not getting society and it's pull to make everyone The Same. this lot, that i was getting to know in the early 1990's, was different. they were real...

up until then my music taste was pretty varied. i listened to The Beatles, R.E.M. and U2, and Prince and Talking Heads. i liked a few popsongs, enjoyed Sting, The Who, CCR, the Replacements, Tom Petty, Neil Young.... i also liked Guns and Roses, a bit, for their loudness, but something in me couldn't really get on with their 'image' - they seemed to try too hard, to be too contrived... but their music was okay...

this all faded to a boring nothing when i heard Smells Like Teen Spirit, and a bit later Alive - before i really knew what was going on i was sucked into both bands, loved what they were about, what they seemed to stand for, they way their music seemed to encompass so much of the chaos and the variety that i felt was going on inside of me. Seattle had it going on, that much i knew.

from Seattle were many other bands, and Soundgarden was one of them. a bit too loud for my liking and their singer, Chris Cornell, a bit too cocky and pretty rock-boy {...}, but they seemed to go as a job lot with Pearl Jam, though i never got into them really...

a few years ago PJ celebrated their 20 years as a band with a documentary, in which much archived material was used {some of their mates had camera's they carried everywhere with them}, and the friendliness and joy these guys felt for what they did, and each other, as bands, was so sweet, so wonderful to see. Cornell was a big part of their early days - a mentor, and the 'big brother' to Eddie Vedder, who was shit-scared of being centre stage, and to the other guys who'd lost their best buddy and lead singer a year or so before to drugs, and lost the will to make music anymore. he pulled them through, with his calmness and wisdom, and presence, and the rest is beautiful {rock} history...

he seemed like a lovely bloke, looking back. in the PJ20 doc i saw a lovely guy, a rock, a wise and sweet man... i didn't know that... i'm still getting to know Soundgarden, bit by bit, and from what i read from people who loved him from those early days, or gotten to know him along the way, and got him, in the way that i got Eddie Vedder {i think...}. i don't feel the same sense of deep devastation that he's gone, but i totally get that people do... he was real... he was one of the few that stayed real...

but the sad thing, for me, was that he was one of the good guys, and he too suffered with depression, with being too sensitive and kind, in a hard, harsh world that has no time for the likes of him, and Kurt and too many others that we've lost along the way... the kind, gentle, sweet guys...

what kind of {fucking} world......???

so yeah... feeling kind of weird... one of the faces of my time, one of the voices, one of the greats, has felt the need to go...

thanx man...
about time i got to know your work...

♥

to {not} be misunderstood

i guess it just boils down to the simple desire to be understood. accepted maybe even, as a cherry on the cake, but understood mainly.

earlier on today i was thinking about what made my relationships feel so strained, so hard. i have a few friends, no love-life, and i speak to my mother at least once a week.

her words of advice to me, a while ago, were that i should just be {more} pleasant to others, if i wanted to either hang on to or forge new friendships. i had mentioned the slow deterioration of the ones i've been having, my longest running friend having 'deserted' me a few months before. my dad was still around at this time, and he kept quiet, as he always did whenever my mum got into one of her advice-modes with me. i had not sought her advice, just wanted to mention to her the state of play in my life. i keep underestimating her ideas of me, reckoning apparently {as she's been on the receiving end of} that i'm a tough cow who doesn't go round pleasing people. like she does. she has friends...

inner fisticuffs

relatively often i'm in battle with a few people.

with one i argue over what to do with the day. according to them, i'm not doing enough, and i ought to be more active, not be so down in the dumps. get on with it: Life Needs To Be Lived - that's the type of person it is.

what love's got to do with it...

when pregnant with my first, a lot of people {women} i knew back then wanted to know if i was eager for this baby to be a girl. no, i said. anything but! {which left the only other -- technical -- option wide open...}. huh?! most of them replied. you don't want a girl? no, thanx... i'd reply again. i don't want a girl... i don't get girls.. i don't like girls... but... you are a girl!? yeah... i suppose so... but no, if i had the choice, i'd want this baby to be a boy. and thankfully, it was...

fiction fan

it had been a while since i read any, the stories i've saved on a fanfiction site that i discovered quite a few years ago. i'd become uninterested, not able to engage in the soppy romances, or the predictability of the {getting together}s or even the love expressed between two humans who In Real Life {well, their original fictional universes} were just mates, or arch enemies, or indifferent to each other's existence.

how different that had been years ago, when i'd spend hours devouring one story after another. mainly very well-written stuff, with deep layered plots, by incredibly well researched or just amazingly insightful authors. the lesser ones cast aside in search of gems, most leaving me feeling hopeful, happy, touched... some of them however had the capacity to render me in a heap of sad introspection. convinced none of the love-lives i discovered and became part of were ever going to be reality for myself. or any of us...