Life doesn’t always do what you want it to do. What you expect it to do. What you dig your fingernails into your palms and draw blood from your lips and feel choked deep in your throat needing/longing/hoping for it to do.
Sometimes you wake up and find that a friendship has disappeared, slowly but surely. And even though it was a matter of paths diverging, it still aches in your throat like you’ve swallowed a pincushion with the needles pointing out. (Until you realise you’ve gained far stronger friendships in the meantime, and then the needles dissolve like toffee.)
Sometimes you come home from an event feeling mortified because something you said may have been dreadfully misinterpreted, and you wish you had Hermione’s Time-Turner so that you could go back and make it better (saving Buckbeak in the process, of course).
Sometimes you trip over a completely flat surface and simply cannot work out what went wrong beneath your feet.
Sometimes you find yourself curled up on the couch with your fists pressed into your stomach as you cry in anger because cancer is brutal devastation and you want it to go away, you want it to go away, you want it to go away and leave him alone.
Sometimes you have dozens upon dozens of emails to reply to and you wish you could let everyone know that you aren’t meaning to be rude and you truly cherish each word, but you’d very much like an eighth day of the week just for emails, please.
Sometimes you forget that your oven doesn’t work and so you dance around the kitchen making white chocolate peanut butter cherry blondies, and they come out of the oven rock-hard on top and completely uncooked within.
So you simply bite your thumb (in the manner of Montagues and Capulets) at life’s twists and turns, leave the uncooked blondies at home*, and buy a packet of cookies and fizzy-make-feel-good to take to your Australia Day party. And then you sit drinking Pimm’s and eating chips under the Safe Tent made of blankets clothes-pinned to the Hills Hoist, and you laugh with the other sun-warmed lizard-people at the more energetic folk chasing each other in endless circles around the house with water guns and hoses.
And in that moment, everything feels okay again.
* Later heating the gooey squares up in the microwave to eat topped with soy ice cream. Uncooked, schmuncooked.
{ 78 comments… read them below or add one }
Hannah, you’re truly beautiful. This is a heartbreakingly beautiful post. Wanting to send you so much love right now. And steal a spoonful of undercooked filling. Yum. I want you to start writing modern day Austen-esque fiction. But not the trashy kind, of course, it’ll be all class. That sounds strange because it’s your real life you’re talking about, but you have such a way with words, it makes me float.
Heidi xo
Heidi, my darling, you’ve almost made my cry. Thank you so, so much for this out-of-the-blue support for the (now-not-so-) secret hope in my heart. This means the world xoxo
P.S. And you know how much an honour “Austen-esque” is for me!
Oh Hannah, I’m so sorry to hear things have not been going well for you. And glad that you still find respite in the little things. I hope everything goes much better for you soon.
Thank you, Leaf.
I would like a safe tent made of blankets, please, with these brownies heated up with soy ice cream and the promise of that 8th day to catch up on all the things that can’t be caught up on in 7 days (it’s just not possible). And I would like that for both of us every week so that both of our fingernails could uncurl and your fists could un-press and tears could stop and you wouldn’t need Hermione’s Time-Turner because, as you say, all would be okay again.
Failing that, I guess I’d settle just for the brownies and soy ice cream…
Thank you, darling Kari. The blondies and soy ice cream do help, I promise. The rest we’ll have to figure out for ourselves
Hannah, Heidi is right, you are a beautiful writer. The best part of sweet baking is the batter, and the chewy bits are the best of the blondie anatomy so really that pan was a tasty blessing! Wishing you all the best for your hard times… And many smiles for the happy times
Lisa, thank you so much. I’m truly honoured by your comment. And you know what? You’re absolutely right. These blondies were the best of both worlds
Oh Hannah – sorry to hear about the painful times but am glad the blondies were unable to defeat your joie de vivre – I am sure the batter was good enough to eat without cooking so your oven was just obliging!
Teehee, that’s a nice positive spin to put on things, but in truth I’m sick of it burning cookies and not-cooking blondies and being an all-round cantankerous beast! But, as you say, ovens mustn’t ever truly defeat joie de vivre
Hannah, I too feel for you when you are experiencing painful times. But just like the song-writer who writes beautiful music when his/her heart is broken, so your writing is even more beautiful when you are feeling blue.
Oh Mike, thank you. It helps, sometimes, to write. (And thank you for my wonderful chocolate!)
I think if I ever had dozens of emails from people who cared about me, that would be enough to carry me through at least a week or two of good feelings. Or even a dozen emails.
All of my high school friendships fell out of my life, and I only succeeded in making like one friend in college. One more in grad school. It’s not enough, you know?
I understand your emotions. I would dance with you in your kitchen if it made you feel better, xo.
I didn’t mean to make this sound so sad sack. I guess that’s just what happens when I try to ponder deep thoughts deeply at 6 am.
Considering that my entire post was rather emo, you are utterly allowed to sound a little that way yourself. Then we can hug each other across the ocean and both feel better, imagining dancing-kitchen-times ahead
Oh, please don’t get me wrong, the email and friendships delight my soul; I only wish I had enough time to write back to everyone properly (and in good time). Including yours, and you!
P.S. You have me, truly truly
And high school friendships aren’t always best to hold onto, anyway!
Lovely post Hannah … wish I could come up with the imagery you do. I bet the sun-warmed lizard people would have liked the semi-cooked brownies … but, I know, you wanted it for yourself!
Trust you to see right through me. I totally just wanted an excuse to eat the blondies all myself.
Thank you, dear mother. xoxo
I agree that you should write modern day Austen. I could read your stories hours on end. In fact, I have! (creepy? perhaps)
Oh, Christine! You’re making me tear up too! Thank you so, so much. Not creepy at all, but heart-soaring – at least for me. *hugs*
Sorry to hear you’re going through a tough time. You deserve 2 or 3 Pimm’s!
Hope your week gets better.
2 or 3 Pimm’s would see me either a) dancing the can-can in the middle of the road whilst singing a made-up song about bees, or b) asleep under the safe tent.
Thank you, Laura
1. You WIN for the Harry Potter reference.
2. I love this post. Life is all about what you make it!
Thank you Errign! So so much. I feel far more gleeful now
You’re an amazing girl Hannah, we all have our days you just gotta take things one day at a time.
and for the record. I think those blondies look even better uncooked
Oh! Thank you, Casey. *hugs* I would give rather a lot to be able to share these batterlicious blondies with you for your kindness. xo
i totally know what u mean. i wish there was an 8th day in the week. i am falling behind on my google reader, emails, working out, and even sleep. hope you have a better day! hugs hannah!
Thank you Junia
I love when others share their kitchen imperfections. I think I’d eat them anyway.
Then you’re a woman after my own heart.
Thank you Lisa
Things always get better. Always. xo
Hugs to you! Pimm’s cup + uncooked blondie + ice cream = pretty much my idea of a good night. I love battery, doughy things, kind of more than their fully-cooked counterparts…
Shh, don’t tell anyone, but I’m absolutely with you on that. Unfortunately, though, it was impossible to slice up for the party. Or fortunately?
These are innovative – molten lava blondies. Its tricky to get it perfectly molten like yours:)
Teehee, love it. Yep, totally intentional
Sorry to hear that things are “not quite right.” You could always build a fort out of cushions and pillows and blankets to protect you and eat an extra big slice of undercooked blondie with much too much ice cream on top while all squirreled away in your impenetrable squish fortress. That’s what I would do.
Are you secretly my friend Elly in disguise? She’s constantly building the most incredible forts in her sharehouse out of cushions and blankets… to the extent that she’s lately been sleeping on the floor because all her bed-parts are holding up the fort-castle in their living room.
I’d invite you into my hypothetical impenetrable squish fortress, though. Perhaps to share an imaginary Mont Blanc.
Oh my goodness girl, when I read this last night I just wanted to crawl through my computer and hug you (in a non-creepy way) or better yet, send through one of my doggers to snuggle with you. I’ve done my share of ‘thumb biting’ lately and it’s so much more therapeutic than ‘curling up in a ball and thumb sucking’. Here’s to more of the good and less of the bad and to seeing the best in things in the meantime.
Oh, darling! Thank you! That must have been why I started feeling a bit better late last night; I could tell there was a hug and dog-cuddles floating through the air. Here’s to both of us continuing to defeat demons in this world of ours xo
Gah, times like that … overly familiar. Not the oven calamity (because you know, I don’t bake so much), but definitely the email flood …
Lizard company makes everything better, though. I terribly miss lizards over here.
Teehee, I’m sure you have lizard-people, though! Unless no one in Germany likes the sun?
There’s a wonderfully gorgeous blue-tongue lizard living at my parents’ place whom I always look out for when I visit 
Oh, I thought you were sitting there with enchanted lizards playing around your feet … We have lizard *people* but a terrible lack of actual lizards, not to even *mention* enchanted ones!
Teehee, no, it was imagery of/describing we people who were feeling slow-and-sleepy because of the sun, the way lizards contently lie and move slowly in the warmth. But I do believe in enchanted lizards out there somewhere
Hannah, I’m so sorry, I somehow didn’t get the scope of the struggles you describe in this post. I thought it was rather like typical how-to-survive-my-daily-life struggle, but it didn’t click with me that you’ve lost a friendship. I’m so so sorry! Please forgive me, and assign it to my current end-of-thesis-cluttermindedness! I’m scary and asocial and not a good friend these days!
Oh Kath, don’t you worry at all! You’ve got far too much on your plate yourself, I completely understand. You just take care of yourself, okay? That’s what matters
I hope you are having a happy day today Hannah! If can be all a bit overwhelming and sucky some days, but it is lovely that you have friends who can make you forget it all and bring a smile to your face. Keep your chin up, it will all work out, it always does.
Thank you Lisa. It does always get better. Thank heavens for the weekend, though! I need some soul-relaxation and calmness
xo
Such a great post! And I love that you ate them anyway!
Thank you Rach! And why, of course! Can’t let good chocolate and peanut butter go to waste
I’m not ashamed to admit that I read this and got got very properly teary. Teary for what you’re going through and teary for your friend and cancer and just how cruel and unfair life can be.
This was such a moving piece (refer: tears) and so beautifully written. So much respect to you for sharing it.
I hope that you’re feeling better.
Thank you, Andrew. It truly means a lot that this post didn’t just come across as melodramatic drivel. I’m truly honoured by everyone’s responses.
And I am. It always gets better.
I really want to hug you right now. You are such a beautiful person, and I hope none of this is actually happening to you.
P.S. I will take the undercooked bars off your hands if their reminder is too painful. Eating them for you is only what a good friend would do, right?
Thank you Kelly. I really appreciate the thought-hug. I don’t make anything up on this blog, though, so unfortunately you can’t wish it away for me! Thank you for the kindness in trying, though
P.S. Oh, absolutely! Come on over and the rest are all yours
Aww no, I hope you’re feeling better *hugs*. This has been a bit of a meh week too and I think it has for a lot of people (if that makes you feel better, commiserations in numbers etc).
I will say that “Sometimes you trip over a completely flat surface and simply cannot work out what went wrong beneath your feet” always happens to me!
Strength in numbers definitely helps, particularly when we all come out the other end feeling happiness again
Also… what’s the bet we Spay Ladies are tripping over nothing at exactly the same moment in time?
It’s not everyday (or ever really) that I read through every single word of a post, (including comments), but you’ve done it Hannah.
Your words were truly moving, especially with a pianist playing ballads next to me. 
Hope your week gets better but even when it does, please don’t stop writing such beautiful words.
Oh Jenny, that is such an incredible, incredible compliment. Thank you so very much. I can’t even… thank you. *hugs hugs hugs* xoxo
*hugs* to you too!
I’m actually in Beijing right now because my boyfriend’s grandpa has cancer…and he probably only has a month or 2 left…I know how bad it is….every time I visit the hospital, I leave all teary. It’s just so unbearably sad to see how frail he is and how much pain he has to go through every single day.
Hope your friend is not suffering too much…as cancer really is the worst that can happen to anyone. *hugs* to your friend as well.
I’m so sorry, Jenny. I find it so hard to cope with the fact that, on top of everything, cancer causes so much physical pain. I’m so sorry for your boyfriend’s grandpa. I don’t really feel comfortable talking in detail here, but rest assured I appreciate your hugs and send them right back to you and yours too xoxo
I’m sorry you didn’t have a good day *hugs* but doesn’t matter tomorrow is a brand new day and even though things didn’t work out and the peanut butter cherry blondies didn’t work out I still bet they are delicious
sometimes i make some really horrible desserts and even though they don’t look good they are in fact really YUMMY ~
Hope you have a better day tomorrow!
Thanks Daisy; this wasn’t so much one day as a progression of moments in time, but these past few days have been better. Hurrah for the weekend, and thank you for your support
Sometimes the things that weren’t quite right end up being the most cherished. Like the blondies – I am sure it was delicious in the end
My heart broke at your words – not only because they contained this pain that I was just wanted to reach out through the computer screen and give you a big squishy hug, but also because you are gifted with the way of words.
Lots and lots of squishy hugs
Oh my darling friend, how could I ever feel lost for long when I have people like you, and such words of support, in my life? Thank you more than you know, for the squishysquishy and the cheering-on.
xoxo
Can I come to your safe tent of blankets and eat undercooked blondie dough with you? Pretty please? We can laugh and cry on repeat until we are dehydrated and our stomachs hurt. Life is so hard but you put it into words so eloquently. Hope you are doing okay my dear as you’ve been “here” for me in my low times. xoxo.
Oh yes, Shannon, you are always, always welcome in under my safe tent of blankets and blondie dough and comfort! I’m grateful to think I could have helped you in any way recently, and I truly hope things are continuing to feel “up” for you xo
You totally had me in mind when you made these, right?
Well, even if not, I would’ve sat with you on the floor of your kitchen with the pan of not-quite-right blondies and two spoons and shared the whole thing while talking and laughing.
Oh Amber, that sounds perfect, perfect, perfect. One day. xoxo
(Oh, and of course! You’re always in my mind anyway
)
Cancer just sucks the life out of everything. Literally!
Wishing you happiness, hugs and lots of yummy raw coconut ballsxx
Thank you, Sarah. It’s hard to talk about here as all I really want to do is swear and rail and scream at it, but this isn’t really the place for that. xo
I’m so, so sorry to hear it… I wish I could say something more constructive and helpful than I’m thinking of you and have everything crossed that things start looking up for you xx
Thank you Eleanor, I promise you that your words are wonderful and helpful to hear
xo
Dear Hannah,
Sorry to hear of this deep and wrenching pain for you and your friend. Very big hugs and warm wishes of peace and strength, recovery if possible, especially against all odds. There is beauty in pain but sometimes it just hurts too much. Xxxcat
Thank you Catherine, I truly appreciate it. I wish we could be given a miracle. xoxo
Hannah, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you left a comment on my little blog yesterday. If you had not, I’m not sure how much longer it would have taken me to discover yours. Of course, I do not know the specifics of whatever it is you’re going through, but rest assured: I know the horribly conflicting feeling of realizing life’s plan isn’t exactly synonymous with the one you had in mind. In fact, my own heart broke reading this eloquent post because I recognized your words as my own – as if you had taken a peek into my head, pulled out strings of my thoughts, and pasted them right on my open laptop. All I can say is I am sending love your way… And though we’ve only just met (and in cyber space, at that!), I wish I could be there to give you the most MASSIVE hug.
Your strength is an inspiration.
Desi, your words are like a hundred thousand squeezy hugs rolled into one. Thank you, my dear friend (for while we may only just have discovered each other, I feel this is – or will be – true). The idea that this post could have provided even a small comfort to you in what you are going through (whatever it may be; us and our opaqueness!
) is such balm to my heart. I’m so very honoured by your comment, and a great big hug right back to you xoxo
Am thinking of you, Ms Hannah! Good thoughts, too. Hope it helps a tiny bit xx
You always help, Laura. Far more than a tiny bit xo
Hugs xx
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