Everything you do, you do with grace

Ok, I’ve put it off long enough. I was down in Cork with Catherine for Valentine’s Day; the first time I’ve ever had a Valentine’s Day with someone I love. Left work at 5.15 and caught a 6pm bus to Ireland’s small, arrogant and twisty second city, arriving off the south ring (snigger) at 11.30. Five and a half hours on a bus. Catherine met me straight away at the station and we kissed for a while. A good while. The way she smiles when I see her after a long time apart is just…. wow. She’s always meaning to write a “100 Things You Didn’t Know About Kerouac Phoenix” entry and I think I’ll start it by saying that believe it or not, she’s extremely good-looking. I hasten to mention Fiona Shaw again after the real-life slap I got before but if you could all imagine Harry Potter’s evil stepmother (bear with me) and tone down the more angular features of her face. Get rid of the chin, shrink the nose a bit and add a lot of…gorgeousness and, well, what I’m trying to say is that Catherine looks like a beautiful version of Fiona Shaw (who I might add doesn’t look half-bad when she’s not in a film looking all hag-ish). I’m going to post a link to a picture of our official portrait at some stage and you can judge for yourself. And laugh at the head on me. But in closing, one thing you may not have known about Kerouac Phoenix is that she is quite pretty. Quite quite pretty. Especially first thing in the morning when she’s all sleepy. And bashful. And dopey.

But not dopey for too long because another thing you may not realise about Kerouac Phoenix is that she is very clever. Intelligent even. I won’t get into specifics, but suffice is to say she’s Rain Man-esque with some of her mental gymnastics. She’ll instantly tell you how many letters are in a word. She’s incredibly fast at arithmetic. And she was once a Formula 1 fan. Not to mention a Manchester United fan. Her bra size is 34B and she doesn’t do dresses unless she’s wearing trousers underneath. I’ve yet to see her wear a hair clip or indeed restrain her hair in any fashion. She has numerous fetishes; most notably corduroy, suede and ducks. Yes, she likes her ducks. My Donald Duck-sleeping impression makes her go all cuddly and adorable. And her beard is so soft.

Ok, so I might be going on a bit. It’s just that reading through her diary, she leaves so many great things about herself out. Not that I’d expect her to devote entries on the subject of how great she is (only I’d do something that vain), but she really is rather wonderful and I’ve never known someone to touch me so much. And I mean touch me in a Dawson’s Creek kind of way.

I just feel invincible with her; that if someone as amazing as her can love me then anything is possible. I know so much about her now, I’m her biggest fan, and I’m so happy to be part of her life. And that’s she’s part of my life. I’ve never been so content in my life. Just knowing she’s there is the most comforting thing I’ve ever known.

j

p.s. By the way, I was wrong about Catherine not admitting to her obsessive compulsive thingies. Because on the 6th of April 2000 she said:

I’ve had one of these going all my life from when I was about seven. The last one and longest-lasting (which I haven’t fully shaken off yet) is to count the number of letters in words and sentences. Eventually it just became automatic and got very scary for a while. I thought I was turning into Rain Man.

Good night