The 6 month mark was last week. 6 long horrible months. Some days are better than others, and most days I know that this is the better option, the one with the brighter future and exciting adventures. I KNOW this. I know that we both deserved better than what we had, I know that he was mostly an ungrateful, selfish bastard, and I know that one day I won’t care one iota. I know that I am, at least, mostly happier now. Mostly calmer, a bit more sure of myself. In a mostly better place.

But other days? Other days I want to lay my head on my desk and will the earth to stop spining, so I don’t have to go through another day missing him. Three years is a long time to love somebody, and that I haven’t seen him in what feels like forever? That I’m still getting his stupid mail? That our only contact has been to discuss money owed, or send spiteful txts? Its heartbreaking.

I miss him. I wish I didn’t.

Someone once told me that I while I’d think of him everyday (and sadly, I still do) that eventually the ache would dull. Right now I’d rather carve out my chest to not feel this. And the thought of suffering like this for another hour, day, week, month? It’s so dire. So I continue what I’ve been doing, throwing myself into design projects, meeting this boy and that boy, partying with this new group of friends, or coffee with those ones. Music festivals, beach trips, drives up and down the country that use up two tanks of gas. I’ve climbed playgrounds and looked at the stars. I’ve laid in the middle of empty fields. I’ve sat on the pier near the Harbor Bridge and watched the little lights go past. I’ve met so many new people, done so many unexpected things.

But its hard to fool yourself. It’s hard to not want to cling to the past. It’s hard to wonder, sometimes, what you are doing with yourself and why you are doing what you do. I’d like to be free from this. I’d like to meet boys and not think of them as distractions. I’d like to be able to sit still, and alone. I’d like to feel like I was decisively doing something I wanted to do, instead of doing things so I appear like I’m going somewhere, instead of fleeing. I’d like to not feel what I’m feeling.

Love? It’s complete and utter agony. It’s sneaky, and horrible and nasty. And after all I’ve put in, all I’ve done, and given and learned and suffered, I’d much rather that I had those three years back. I would have rather have not lived, breathed, experienced it. Sadly, I regret loving him. I regret letting myself fall. I remember, when were were still two months, three months new he asked me to open myself up. To stop hiding out in my fortress. He asked me to let him into my life. I wish I hadn’t. I wish I’d trusted myself, and hadn’t allowed myself to seduced by a fake forever. I wish I hadn’t loved him. I wish I hadn’t made all the decisions that have led me to today. Because sadly, it was not worth feeling this.

So, 6 months. I hope the next 6 passes quicker than the last 6 did. Here’s to trusting myself, to making the right decisions, and to moving forward.

The second crazy campaign The Yellow Pages did was The Taste of Yellow. That is to say that this guy named Josh was given a task: using only the businesses listed in the Yellow Pages, launch the worlds first chocolate bar that tastes of Yellow. He did it, he did. There are a whole bunch of videos you can watch to see what he did to get it done. Some of them are pretty hilarious.

By the time it was launched, everyone had seen the ads and heard the story. And it was stupidly hard to get your hands on a bar or twenty. By the time I managed to find a bar, most supermarkets had sold out, and people were making a killing on trademe. It was a bit of a fiasco, really.

But, I did get my hands on a bar. A guy from the office brought two into work for everyone to try. The packaging was pretty nice. Well designed and cute.

The first think you notice is the smell. It’s strong, and overpoweringly sweet. For those of us that either had kids or had worked in an ECE centre recently, it smelt a bit like playdough or plasticine. It tasted alot better than it smelt. A bit like pineapple lumps and custard and yes, a little bit like playdough. It was incredibly sweet, there was no way I’d be able to eat a whole bar.

I’d say Josh achieved his goal of making yellow chocolate taste of yellow. I think that overall it was a successful campaign, and got alot of people interested. :) Have you tried anything that’s overwhelmingly quirky lately?

Looking back, February was much better for me than January. My best friend came home for a week, and it was great to see her. I did alot of exciting new things, and definitely towards the end of the month felt like I was finally finding my feet again. Everything seemed alot less overwhelming, a lot less dramatic. It was nice to be able to breathe again.

I completely failed at uploading daily this month. One day would slip by, and the next, and it became a hassle. I’m still taking the photos everyday (which has been made easier by carrying my camera with me everywhere I go!) which has been good. I suspect if that became an issue the project would wither and die. Let’s hope it doens’t come to that!

This was my February:

1st of February to the 28th of February. 146 down. 219 to go.

Past Months: October, November, December, January.

We slept, covered in sweat and heat, pressed together in a single bed. Limbs intertwined and bunched, holding close and pushing away. In the muggy, hot dark I wondered if I should sneak out. Drive away, perhaps to safety, perhaps just to calm the fears that dance. Fears that I know are just shadows, with no firm anchor outside my head. Still, they danced just the same and I watched them flicker, and jump.

I made a decision, and I shifted my weight. Ready to leave, to flee, to go. I don’t want anything heavy. I can’t play the games, and dance with the drama. I’m only just building up a defense. Pulling on armour. Figuring out how best to build walls. I can’t, won’t, don’t want this . . .

As if knowing, seeing, understanding, he pulled me close. Lips murmuring sleep in my ear. Breathing in his warmth, I gave in. I buried my nose in his neck, and let him wrap himself around me. Calm. Relax tense muscles. Breathe. The dancing shadows cease, and I remembered that this is just here and now. There are no games, or drama. He’s not chasing, tricking, lying. He’s not asking for anything more than now, and I’m not offering anything more, either. Besides, anything worth breaking is hidden. Vaulted, and safe. Out of harms way. The rest is already broken rubble.

I felt a bit stupid. Not every boy is out to deceive. Out to hurt. Not every boy is going to be like the last. Not every boy is looking to break and betray, looking for a fake forever. Not every boy will require deciphering. I’m still learning. Still growing. Still leaving the old me behind.

I close my eyes and will sleep come.

Tomorrow’s another day. The walls will be higher, tomorrow. And I’ll be safe behind them. In the mean time, this single bed is easily big enough for two.

A couple weeks ago The Second Quarter and I went to the NZ Beer Fest. For anyone who knows me, this seems like a stupid thing to do because I’m not a fan of beer. Not even a little bit. But it was one of those days where getting out and about in good company seemed like the thing to do, and so I went.

I’m glad I did. I did try the beer. In fact, there was one beer (Belle-Vue Kriek) that I had that was trying really hard NOT to be a beer. It had some sort of cheery undertone and well, it was still a beer that just tried so hard to not be a beer. I totally admire it’s attempt to be a beer, and not be a beer. I also heard alot about how people weren’t that into the dark ales. I’m glad I didn’t try any.

It also seemed to be that every second person that I saw was someone I knew, which felt pretty great. I didn’t take as many photos as I should have, but the few that I did take ended up being ones alot like these two:

We’re both a bit drunk. I’m not sure exactly what we are trying to do with our facial expressions. I’ll save your eyes from the others.

Another interesting thing was that Epic Beer had a big projector that showed a live feed of any tweet that mentioned @epicbeer. Naturally, me and The Second Quarter totally got our geek on.

My tweet came up top right. The Second Quarter was gonna sass, but pulled out at the last minute … he said something about it being immature using such rude words, and tried to be clever with a twitpic instead:

All in all, it was a great day. I’m sure if I was a fan of beer it would have been pretty phenomenal. What grand things have you been up to lately?

Cute, right? :)

When I say I’m moving to London, one of the few things that get mentioned is how AWESOME the public transport is. How waiting three minutes seems ridiculous. And that blows my mind a little, because in Auckland, the public transport is horrid. If your wait is a mere half hour, you should be happy.

Well, I have this friend, Busta. And he wasn’t so happy about the longer than half hour wait. Unfortunately Busta doesn’t have a blog on which to post his Open Letter, so I’m posting it here. Oh Maxx, I really wish your service wasn’t so dismal.

Dear Maxx customer service,

I’m currently sitting opposite the Glenfield Mall at stop B waiting for the Ritchies bus 131, scheduled to get here at 6:43pm. The time is now 7:21pm and still no bus. I know I didnt miss it since I’ve been waiting here after just missing the 131 bus that got here at 6:18pm, after madly flailing for the bus driver to pick me up. He didn’t.

I know the bus exists since both your website, and the tagged sign, with a faint whiff of urine next to me, both say so. So I’m wondering why I’m still sitting on this hard, sticky bench, rather than the comfort of one of the hard, sticky seats on one of your buses.

At this point I would like to express my appreciation of you updating your website with many pretty pictures. It certainly makes searching for imaginary bus routes much more satisfying, and I never liked the functionality of being able to see the map of the route anyway.

Is it your policy to pull numbers out of your head, and hope by some miracle that a bus with that exact number turns up, at the right stop at the right time? By my calculations, the chances of that happening are the same as if a leprechaun came and danced a jig infront of me right now, and then kicked me in the nuts for good measure, which I must say, would be a lot more fun than what I’m currently doing, as at least then I could say that I’ve been kicked in the nuts by a leprechaun.

If, in the future, you could provide something close to the service you promise I would be in your debt and may even share with you my prized black jellybean collection. My wife has just arrived. I called her and explained I’m trapped in some corner of hell reserved for waiting for public transport, and being called by a telemarketer while a really good episode of Shortland Street is on. I think I’ll stick with relying on her at the moment, because unlike Maxx, she actually picks me up when she says she will.

Final count, 7:38, no bus.

I forgot to mention that I guest posted over at casadekaloi.com while the brilliant Stephanie is away in Hawaii with her gorgeous family! Go check it out, if you have a spare moment :)

Snowplanet, the giant freezer filled with “snow”, has had this awesome deal. For the months of January – February you can ride 6pm – 10pm for $19. NINETEEN DOLLARS! That actually blows my mind, and needless to say a bunch of us were up there as much as we could be.

And perhaps it’s just that I haven’t been on a board since October, or that half my reader is filled with posts about snow, but I was pretty keen to get up there (even though everyone knows that Snowplanet has the tendency to be boring after the first little while. What with the two minutes up, twenty seconds down ratio).

And the first time was pretty awesome. We hit the boxes, and bailed and threw ourselves off jumps. I taught Zes how to not fall on his face as much, and my girl JZ taught me to be a bit more brave. The second time they’d changed up the terrain a bit more, and we hit the giant jump, and tried to throw ones off the mini ramps (we’re still learning this part, I can’t land it clean, I’m still turning as I land). Lyth even let me ‘instruct’ him a little, which made me feel like I knew alot more than I thought I did. But after a while, we were just bombing it top to bottom, trying to find a way to hit the terrain in a way we hadn’t already done.

And, after a while you make your own fun:

Like jumping shots with your gear in the carpark.

Sometimes going to a giant freezer can be brilliant. Other times you realise it’s the people you’re with that make it awesome.

Everyday I take Quinn for a walk. Sometimes it’s a short work, just up to the park and back. Sometimes it’s a long meandering wander around the city, or out west, or wherever. Right now I’m loving the peace. Sometimes feeling better is as easy as taking the time to wander around with your dog.

What are you loving about your daily routine right now?

A few weekends ago, after hauling The Third Quarters stuff around, The Third + Fourth Quarters and The Fourth Quarters family, and I drove twenty minutes out west. We walked through the bush for a bit, which looked like this:

And eventually we came to place that looked like this:

We clambered over rocks and swam in freezing but refreshing fresh river water and had a generally brilliant time.

Sometimes I forget that with a little bit of effort you can be somewhere amazing. That morning I’d hoped for perhaps a drip in a chlorinated pool. By that afternoon I was much happier that instead I swam in a river.

Have you hoped for something and been surprised by a much better alternative?