three things

Three things that have happened or will happen:

1.) Spent about six hours with an elderly German neighbour yesterday. I used to do her shopping for her until I got too ill to do my own, but she spotted me on the way back from buying cigarettes and I somehow found myself wallpapering her living room. Then she wanted a mirror put up, but the wall wasn’t good enough, so I had to ask Crazy Scotmsan if he had the appropriate drill bits and screws and then HE became involved and…

Ugh. I’m only complaining because drilling with a tremor is really quite terrifying.

Anyway, now Hilda has a new wall and a new mirror, and I’ve got a bad back. Rather nice to be bossed around by a German woman, though. She’s about 105 years old and still blonde and built like a wrestler, which I find remarkable.

2.) I may have mistakenly asked a woman out on a date. I don’t quite know how this happened. To cut a long story short – she’s the new nurse at the clinic I go to for specific blood tests, she’s very lovely looking and American, and this morning we ended up having a long conversation about how she’s split up with her boyfriend because he wants to be a street theatre person. I forget the details because I couldn’t stop thinking about Tobias Funke and the Blue Man Group. So she keeps me talking for WAY longer than necessary (about twenty minutes longer whilst people are in the waiting room) and tells me she finds it hard to meet men and make friends. So I suggest flippantly that we should go out for coffee or something. So now we’re going out for coffee. It was only on my way back home I realised – fuck, in America – this is how people go on dates, isn’t it? Ask them out for coffee? AM I DATING HER???

3) I have a Halloween party to go to tonight and no costume. It’s Daniel’s party which are always legendary. I’m not going as Edward Cullen. I repeat – I am not going as Edward Cullen.

click and spend and sigh

So it’s Tosc’s birthday soon and I’ve just bought him a Macbook. I don’t know whether it’s madness or love.

Years ago I was accused of ‘narcissistic generosity’ (by Dee obviously – only he knew how to knock me down with such cruel eloquence) after I bought him a huge wooden sculpture of a gazelle that I knew he really wanted. He bloody loved that gazelle. He wouldn’t admit that he loved it, but he did tie a bow around its neck every single christmas, which I thought spoke volumes.

So every time I buy something nice for someone, I ask myself ‘am I doing this because I’m narcissistically generous?’ and I ponder, and I worry, and then I say ‘no. I’m doing this because my boyfriend wants a Macbook.’

(I was also thinking about buying Lucifer a bejewelled collar but that’s definitely madness and not love.)

As many people know, manic depressives do have a bit of a spending fetish. I’ve already talked about my obsession with pure junk and books, but a lot of my spending has been focused on buying for other people. I remember one Christmas buying my sister an outrageously expensive handbag covered in feathers. It was so tasteless in its Sex and The Cityness, and so far away from my sister’s taste…but it was loud and beautiful and I just had to buy it. (She hated it, by the way.) Then there was the ‘build your own doll’s house’ escapade. My mother has a doll’s house obsession and I figured I’d buy the materials and build one for her. I did build it, but it fell apart shortly after completion (killing everyone inside). Then there was the time I spent hundreds of pounds on fabric, convincing myself I could make a suit. I laid material out on the floor, drew around my legs, cut out the shape and thought ‘There you go. That’s basically a pair of trousers. That was a piece of piss ‘,  not even slightly concerned that I couldn’t sew the two pieces together.

(Handbags, doll’s houses, fashion design…Christ I really am gay.)

Manic spending is weird. I’ll get stuck on one particular sort of thing, like models of old ships, for example. And I’ll think ‘no, I don’t just want one model of an old ship. I want many of them.’ And I’ll buy and buy and buy and buy until my entire environment is just made of ships. This week it’s been candles. I have no need for all these candles. They’re fucking useless. I could say ‘oh, I use them for heat and light and so forth’ but I have a boiler and actual literal lights. The candles do smell of cinnamon though. But then again, so does a bottle of cinnamon. So really, I should just put the heating on, turn on a light, and sit next to some cinnamon.

I don’t know how I’ve got to this topic from the topic of Toscar’s Macbook.

Shit, I’m out of cigarettes.

Alphabet

If I ever have children, this is how I’m teaching them the alphabet.

Gashlycrumb Tinies by Edward Gorey

A is for Amy who fell down the stairs

A is for Amy who fell down the stairs

b

B is for Basil assaulted by bears

CisforClara

C is for Clara who wasted away.

DisforDesmond

D is for Desmond thrown out of a sleigh.

EisforErnest

E is for Ernest who choked on a peach.

FisforFanny

F is for Fanny sucked dry by a leech.

GisforGeorge

G is for George smothered under a rug.

HisforHector

H is for Hector done in by a thug.

IisforIda

I is for Ida who drowned in a lake.

JisforJames

J is for James who took lye by mistake.

KisforKate

K is for Kate who was struck with an axe.

LisforLeo

L is for Leo who swallowed some tacks.

MisforMaud

M is for Maud who was swept out to sea.

NisforNeville

N is for Neville who died of ennui.

OisforOlive

O is for Olive run through with an awl.

PisforPrue

P is for Prue trampled flat in a brawl.

QisforQuentin

Q is for Quentin who sank on a mire.

RisforRhoda

R is for Rhoda consumed by a fire.

SisforSusan

S is for Susan who perished of fits.

TisforTitus

T is for Titus who flew into bits.

UisforUna

U is for Una who slipped down a drain.

VisforVictor

V is for Victor squashed under a train.

WisforWinnie

W is for Winnie embedded in ice.

XisforXerxes

X is for Xerxes devoured by mice.

YisforYorick

Y is for Yorick whose head was knocked in.

ZisforZillah

Z is for Zillah who drank too much gin.

Despite all this seroquel I still can’t feel tired! My mind was really dumb last night, then I had a sort of burst of creativity this morning, then sex stuff popped up which was fine because I have company (so no chained Bonobo misery) and now I’m buzzing again like a silly little wasp. But no massive frustration or crying, thank fuck. I have cath nurses coming over on Tuesday (had it marked on the calendar as today – mix up with appointment cards) and I almost feel like I want to cancel it. I don’t know if I’m up to it…? I don’t want to chicken out though.

(plus Tosc did promise me something for when I get rid of it – not a pony or a present but a SEX GIFT which is so much better)

The things I’ll go through for a shag, my God. Ok – will have to start winding down now. T’s doing his ritual midnight showering, I’m going to make myself something chocolatey and milky and hot to sip. Goodnight goodnight goodnight.

Just thought I’d post this quickly –  I often try to cook a Sunday roast, and this evening Tosc finished eating and said :

“Well I’ve gotta hand it to you, you’ve outdone yourself. That was fucking disgusting.”

I pretended to be annoyed, but I’m still laughing about it.