The First Miracle of Chanukkah

Last night was the Chanukkah party at the Kabbalah centre and I decided that seeing as I spent most of my time there wearing jeans (albeit Seven jeans, but jeans all the same) that I would don my glad rags for a change. Make the effort. It's a party.

What makes me laugh about dressing up for parties is that I always prepare for the evening by applying lots of 'going out' make-up and styling my hair, taking extra time to look good. Then at some point during the evening, the Delusion Fairy visits and helps me to maintain the thought that I look as good towards the end of the evening I did at the start.

I left the house in a rush, running late for the train, and it was raining. Thinking that I did not have enough time to turn back and grab my umbrella, I walked as briskly as I could, feeling the curl slowly return to my straightened hair, and rather alarmingly feeling my hold ups slip a little down my thighs.

I arrived at the centre and straightened myself out. My bright red lipstick had smudged at the corners slightly, giving me an undesired clown effect, but my eyes still looked okay.

Every person I met saw the dress and said "Wow - I like this - you look great!" and little by little I started to slowly feel ever so slightly fantastic. "It's the first miracle of Chanukkah" I said "Me, in a dress"

After the candle-lighting, lecture and meditation, there was a fabulous buffet upstairs and disco downstairs. I queued for food, remembered to re-apply my lipstick afterwards (which was extra effort seeing as I usually give up with lipstick after the first application), and then got up to dance.

I was still feeling fabulous - life and soul of the party. The Lady in Black and Red. I caught the train home tired, but in high spirits.

Now, I'm not sure at which point in the evening the Delusion Fairy waved her wand, but I was halfway home when one of my Hold Ups very suddenly became a Let Down. All of a sudden I had a knee covered in rather tired, rubbery lace. Without further ado, I grabbed the top of it and yanked it back up to the top of my leg, exposing goodness knows what to the young men walking behind me. I took two steps and it fell straight back down again. Marvellous. I decided to hitch, and then hold, (are they called Hold Ups because at the end of the evening you have to hold them up??). I walked home like Jake the Peg, feeling rather inelegant, but not being able to think of a better option.

When I reached the steep steps on the hill, I came face to face with a fox. She eyed me warily, as foxes do, and I stood a while to watch her, whilst she weighed up how fast I would be able to run with my Hold Ups round my ankles. Deciding that by the way I was clutching my leg, I was probably injured, she slowly moved to the side and let me pass. It was a nice moment.

When I got home I immediately got changed and took a look at my face in the mirror. Oh dear. All of the eye make-up that started on top of my eye had gravitated south and the lipstick had spread in to a multitude of fine lines created by too much laughing. A limping clown panda had replaced the vision of beauty who sailed out of the house 5 hours earlier.

Curse you, Delusion Fairy.

Imagine the Crimewatch reconstruction for that journey home.

Probably the most depressing post in the world, ever

It's all very well understanding the Laws of the Universe - how it all works, what I am meant to be thinking, feeling and doing in order to get results - but putting it in to practice is another matter entirely.

What is even worse is knowing what works and what doesn't and choosing what doesn't.

This Friday night starts the week of Chanukah - the week of miracles. We are in the month of Sagittarius, which lends a little light-heartedness and breeziness to life, but it also means that we expect things to happen without much effort and at the sign of any challenges, we run.

This week we are meant to go the extra mile - put in the extra effort to generate the miracles for the coming year. And all I want to do is run. And hide, which is what I do best.

And as if I didn't have enough on my plate - selling things, watching the money run out, trying to find the strength to motivate and believe in myself, think about how I am going to push forward with work, buy cheap Christmas presents for people knowing that I will feel utterly unworthy when I receive their generous gifts - I have found something else to completely wreck my mind.

I've fallen in love.

Except of course, I haven't fallen in love, not really. I've met someone - once - spoken to them two or three times, and become totally besotted with them. It is and always will be totally unrequited. And even though I know full well that I have fallen in love with a total fantasy which is probably a long way from the reality, it hurts.

Not just because I feel jealous of whoever has had the pleasure of his attentions (because, oh dear sweet God, how did you manage to create a man in such perfect proportion? And why did you not use the same tape measure for all men? Answer me that, huh?), but also because I can imagine what type of woman he would be attracted to. Or rather I think there are a number of types of women that he would be attracted to... and I don't fit in to any of these types.

In short, in my current situation and state of mind, I can't blame any man for giving me a wide berth. I'm not taking good care of my body or my mind. I need more than a few new outfits, at least 3 months at the gym (preferably 9 to 5), a haircut and 4 hours of waxing, minimum. I need to find work so that I am not sitting around at home losing my self esteem but am losing my self esteem so much that I can barely talk to people about work. (oh boy, chicken, meet egg. Egg, meet chicken).

And then this man comes along and helps me to see where I would love to be... and how far it is from where I'm at.

So I need more than one miracle. I need a bagful of miracles. Unfortunately I feel so low with constantly beating myself up I think I need a miracle just to get off my arse and actually do something which might grant me a miracle.

Friday night is the lighting of the first candle of Chanukah. Last year I didn't bother with the candle lighting, but this year I decided to make the effort and invested in a Menora. It's not your standard candlestick, oh no. It's a set of little glass bulb oil lamps which you fill with olive oil, with wicks and floating stopper discs, and a strange wax stick-type-thing - the purpose of which is completely unknown to me. I have all of the meditations in Hebrew, and the exact times for lighting the candles for each of the 8 days of Chanukah. And no instructions on how to light them.

Perhaps the first miracle will be that I don't burn the house down....