To the Is-Land!

Aaah, secret middle-of-the-night-post-drinking indulgence. My blog... I went to these goodbye drinks for Henry at the Matterhorn: someone I barely know, but who is basically a nice boy (talks a lot though). Maybe less a farewell, than a sorry that we didn't really have the opportunity to get to know one another better type of a thing. At any rate I didn't actually talk to Henry except in passing the whole evening, when he came to collect the simultaneous kiss on the cheek from me and Bex (the same kiss later collected by Emil... as though we two were joined at the hip). I spent most of the evening talking to Bex about her fabulous new career as gallery dealer extrodinaire, and also making getting-to-know you small talk with her ex-Levy Street flatmate Abbey, a Canadian girl from the birthplace of... Anne of Green Gables, love it. I think this is the first time I've ever known for sure that Prince Edward Island actually existed outside of the imagination of L.M Montgomery. When I was a small child, all I wanted to do was be Anne of Green Gables, have red hair, puffed sleeves and freckles (and not even in that order... as a rule, the freckles came first). Apparently there is a musical that I can join up to and I could actually BE Anne of Green Gables for an entire summer season. Its the longest running musical in Canada... can't wait to tell Farhana. She'll be stoked. So, conversation with Bex very nice but as per usual made me feel a little crap about my own lack of life-focus or anything resembling passion. I missed the whole of the Billy Apple show that Tina curated at the Adam but there is a show opening next week that looks like the kind of thing I could dissemble on indefinitely. Going to miss the opening of course, which is kind of crap. Maybe I could swap shifts with Emma? I'll ask her tomorrow. Got to start getting back into those kind of things, maybe doing some writing to be published. Bex suggested that I contact Katy Corner, and she's right. I feel really bad about everything about career stuff at the moment, I want to be the BEST, such an abstract desire, and yet it rules my life almost entirely. Nothing makes me more jealous and angry than hearing other (ex-hons) girls talking about Abby in glowing terms. I think "Oh, I'm just as good as she is.." and then "but maybe, I'm not. I'm totally substandard. I'll never succeed. I want to be better than her!" This is actually ruining my life, this tragic obsession. Better that I concentrate on what I'm good at (whatever that may be... I'm not even sure that I'm a nice person most of the time.) Must go to bed now. Leave neuroses alone! Oh god neuroses, go to sleep.