Half a loaf

I'm so sick of people complaining.

In my email, on Facebook, at work, in the news. All the time.

Guess what? Things are actually pretty good. We have comfortable lives where we can afford to be sheltered and fed and clothed; we have friends and partners; we have so much spare time we don't know what to do with it all. And we can say we don't have enough money, but if we have enough for alcohol, smokes, chocolate and takeaways, we have enough money.

I liked the fact that on the front page of the Dominion Post today there was a really positive article about The Hobbit, after a few days where everyone's been complaining non-stop.

First an actors' union was complaining; then people started blaming unions for Warner Brothers potentially going overseas with The Hobbit; and once John Key met with executives to secure its filming here, people complained about the tax break he agreed to, and about John Key using it as an excuse to "sell human rights" — in other words, effect a law which will mean people working on the film will be contractors instead of employees.

1. As far as I can tell, this just means they'll just have a different contract — a way of working that painters, electricians and so on have no problem being on already.

2. Most of the tax break would have been provided anyway, and the total is still far less than the money the film is expected to bring in.

People complain about an issue; and once it's fixed, it feels like people just find an issue with the fix to complain about.

Can't we just be happy the movie's staying here, which is what we wanted? Can't we look at how much it will bring in as well as how much is being spent? It seems so one-sided.

I'm normally a pretty happy person, and I do try to find the positive, but it's starting to bring me down.

It's not like I can stop reading the news — that is actually my job.

But the news isn't the problem. It's people's attitude: constantly complaining, or being mean about others behind their backs, or being ungrateful for half a loaf from the government because you feel you should have got a whole one. If you're getting something for nothing, be happy with half a loaf.

I feel like declaring a Positivity Day; but probably no-one would join in. I feel like listing everything good with the world; but I'd be mocked for being cheesy.

But I do feel lucky. I have a job I love; my boyfriend is moving down here next week; I have a beautiful house and a cuddly cat; I work in a city I love. And it's nearly summer.

Maybe everyone doesn't have as good a life as mine. But most of the people I've been listening to whine and complain are people who have lives just as good.

I wish we'd think about what we do have, not what we don't.

Train station romance

It's interesting seeing life unfolding around you, little stories and life adventures beginning everywhere, romances, partners for life enjoying their time together.

I see so many friendships, romances, reunions at the train station. This morning, a curly-haired blonde woman, wheeled suitcase in hand, a smile on her face as she walks up to her boyfriend or partner. The two talk for a minute, standing intimately close, smiling, and then she stands up on her tiptoes and he lowers his head and they kiss, brief but tender. There's something so romantic about it, so loving.

I feel like I should be resentful of them, bitter that they can be together and that I can't be with my boyfriend during the week, but I'm not. It's just happy to see couples together and in love, not making a display of it but not hiding it, just happy to be together.

And then I feel lucky because I feel that is what I have with my boyfriend, and I'm lucky I only live a couple of hours from him, I see him every weekend, and I'm so lucky to have the life I have.

Making old friends

I'm on a mission. Its objective? Make old friends.

New friends are easy to make. Old friends live in different cities or even countries. Old friends have different interests, have grown apart, have new friends and partners and careers. It's harder to start a conversation with old friends, because once you've got the "big" stuff out of the way, it's somehow harder to just do the small talk thing.

We're old friends, you think. What happened? We used to talk so easily about everything and anything.

But life happened. Life got in the way. Some people — like Old Friend Angela — are fantastic at keeping up with people. But more people are like me. I get lazy. I get busy. I get so bogged down in living life that I forget my old friends.

I'll be honest: I'm not a very nice person. I can be cold. If I don't care enough about an Old Friend, or they try my patience too hard — I'll drop them.

It's selfish, isn't it? I don't like this about me.

But that doesn't apply to some friends. I realise years after losing touch with some friends that I've done so, and I feel really, deeply sad. I want to meet up with them, do coffee, go shopping, hang out, talk about stupid little things. I want to have an awkward conversation where we move past the big things and have no small talk to fill in the gaps, the kind of conversation before you start to become real friends again.

And I'm on a mission to try to reclaim some of my Old Friends. Two, in particular.

The first is my best friend from childhood, Rachel, whose family lived overseas with my family. We were best friends — until my family moved back to New Zealand, and then we lost touch purely because I was lazy.

The other makes me really sad: my sister. I've only talked to her once this year. Life keeps getting in the way for both of us, but I don't want to let that be a reason any longer: my sister is far too important to me. I know what happens in her life, the big things, but we don't have that awesome sisterly bond any more, where we could discuss anything, where we acted stupid, where conversations ranged from the deep to the ridiculous to the awkwardly personal.

New friends are easy to make. But I want my old friends back.

Thought blogging

I don't thought-blog any more.

Sure, I talk about books, and do the occasional review, or make some comment about some event that's happened in my life; but I don't tend to talk about my thoughts — except for the occasional rant about Christianity.

It's not that I don't think about issues any more; it's not that my life is perfect. It's not that I have any other outlet for discussing deeper issues.

At university, I tend to be quiet; I'm generally content to listen to other people. And my friends and family and I discuss events in life, not things we think about life.

As far as this blog goes, the only people that generally read it are those interested in the book side, not the personal side; my friends tend to rely more on Facebook for my "updates", and I'm disinclined to sum up my musings on life in such a short and public space.

I know a blog is more public in that anyone can read it; but it's less public in that most people won't care enough to.

I think one reason I stopped blogging is that I'm now happy. I'm in a good relationship, I'm heading for a future I want, and I like the person I am.

But I've been feeling a little lonely lately. It's not for lack of friends or people to talk to; it's just that I don't have a friend I can sit down and talk with for hours about random theoretical rubbish that will never matter.

I might start to write down my feelings and thoughts here again. I don't want or expect an audience for my thoughts, but it's nice to be able to express them somewhere.

So while this blog will remain book-focussed, there might be a bit more of me in it, too.