Wednesday, July 28, 2010

On brothers, and Being Ill

I have some sort of bug. I suspect it's actually G's bug, which he acquired at Latitude, but no matter where it came from, it hit properly on monday evening. I'd been feeling shite all day, suspected it was the fibro reacting to going back to work, but no, it was a fluey cold-like bug.

Until this morning, when it was the fibro, that is.

I hate being ill. While I'm quite happy to lounge about and do nothing for days at a time, there is something about being forced to inactivity that grates. I make a terrible patient; I complain all the time (unless asleep, which the fibro is good for making me do) and I crave peculiar things - yesterday I ate my way through an entire punnet of strawberries, dipping them in clotted cream, and then decided I needed a bacon sandwich - while getting quite bitchy if said cravings are not satisfied immediately.

One of the less pleasant effects of me being ill is that I struggle to walk the dogs; Indigo is usually ok, and will put up with not going out, or only going for a potter around the block - he's also much better on the lead when it comes to not getting tangled up with my stick. Holly, however, needs to be taken out and allowed to run. She's fairly high-energy even with a walk, so without it, she's a demon. Thankfully, my brother agreed to come over and take them out (he's a good boy like that; I can rely on him without feeling too much like I'm actually relying on him).

My relationship with Boy Wonder is odd. We've always gotten on, to some degree or another; we wind each other up endlessly and argue over petty subjects, but at the same time - BW is my brother, and I actually like him. And I know he'll read this, so he can cock off now.

Boy Wonder is, however, an arrogant little shitebag, and always will be; I can still remember our grandmother remarking that he'd be perfect in the army if they had direct entry at field-marshal level - and it holds as true now as it did when he was eight. He's smart, but it's only in the last couple of years I've been able to appreciate his intelligence and humour - possibly because, as he now points out, he's become a little more self-aware. He'll always be an arrogant little shitebag, but at least these days he knows he is. Which, believe me, is something when it comes to him. His determination to succeed is no longer as pointedly measured against me, for one thing.

We can now talk, about politics and art and everything, without him acting the superior - he now listens as much as he pontificates, and actually - occasionally - takes it in. Today we discussed (as much discussing as is possible when one half of the conversation is a mumbling heap on the sofa) gender and race within the context of the plays he wants to explore in his masters; I have suggested he read both Margaret Atwood's Penelopiad and Malorie Blackman's Noughts and Crosses with a view to looking at adapting them (although he needs a writer, and he will not be the director, no matter what he thinks). He's interestingly aware of the personal as political, and I like knowing he's a pro-feminist young man.

I'm rambling now. My limbs and brain work enough for me to have gotten up, eaten, taken a bath, and write this - so now I shall go and read in bed. Hopefully, I will be well enough to go to work tomorrow; I feel terribly guilty about not being able to make it in, especially as it seems the KX school is the only one I've missed days at.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

I have a week off

I've taken a week off from teaching to go to Latitude and graduation and do Stuff. Which is nice,
I needed a break (already) and - at the end of last week - G and I were still looking for a house.

Latitude was awesome, as usual - though the trip to Southwold was even better, possibly because after a couple of days of camping and festival loos I'd started to yearn for civilisation and a decently-priced cup of tea.

We were there partly for G's birthday, and partly for G's work with the Heartstrings - who absolutely slayed their set - including dedicating a new song to the birthday boy. It was good to see them doing so well. I have rather foolishly agreed to crochet Michael a natty vest top; I'm planning on seeing if I can convert the Fornicating Deer Chart (rav link) from knit to crochet. Because every man needs shagging deer on his jumper. If not, there will be lighthouses or some such. Or granny squares.

On wednesday, I formally graduated. There was a stupid hat, and I kept flapping my gown and muttering "I am the goddamn Batman" to myself or anyone who would listen. One of those moments where I needed Rachel, Patience or Lauren to be around (because they understand these things).

It was exciting to be very close to Doreen Massey though - she was being given one of those exciting honorary degrees. I didn't have the courage to say hi at the after-ceremony drinkies (nom nom strawberry tart), I was too busy being hot and grumpy. But at the time - total fangirl moment.

My brother Boy Wonder took pictures, obligingly. I managed to find a semi-decent one (I look like I'm about to do the zombie shuffle) in amongst the pictures of the lighting set-up, the sound deck, and the napping bearded bloke across the aisle from them. I was down the front feeling mildly nervous.

My shoes fucking rocked. Still unconvinced about the home-made dress; think I might take off the sleeves and give it pleats (possibly go for straps and a squared-off bodice too) for Ellie's wedding in September. The waist goes out too early, and it's not defined enough for me and my body image issues.

Then, after introducing the mothership to Geraldine (and Kate, who won the prize for Most Awesomely Obnoxious Gown), and shaking hands with Dave (Tie of the Day - pterodactyls) and Jaap (Cravat. Enough said), and letting my parents stare awkwardly at each other over the finger buffet, we went for lunch.

G and Nabil (the mothership's boyfriend) joined us there, which was nice - and only a little awkward. Sometimes I think Pater doesn't really know how to behave around his ex-wife and her new partner (not that he sees either particularly frequently; this is the first time he'd met Nabil, and possibly the first new partner he'd met). He tried, though. And Nabil and G chatted; I love that my boyfriend is so bloody sociable.

I got dad to get the waitress to take an exciting fambly photo (from the left: Nabil, G, me, Boy Wonder, the Mothership, Pater).

The mothership, being awesome, bought me some underpants (including the requisite strapless number to go under the dress, because I wasn't sure if she'd cope with being dragged to Sh! to buy nipple covers), the massive fucking petticoat under my dress, and a new camera.

So I took pictures, which are now in my flickr.

I'm intending to take the rest of the week to hang with the hounds, and start packing - or at least thinking about packing. We're moving on the 7th/8th - or at least I need to get my stuff out of here that weekend.

I need to sort out my books. And yarn. And stuff.

Sunday, July 04, 2010