Had a luvverly evening even though my dear friend Sarah told me I was rude because I was late- she was pissed though… and I am often… late I mean, not rude… or pissed… I was a good girl, home just after midnight with Jules, didn’t fall over once, woke up nice and fresh early this morning. Walked the dogs along the canal- good to find it unfrozen finally, and we all got very muddy. Showered us all- not together I hasten to add, that would’ve been weird. Spent the rest of the morning writing and cooked Jules and I a fry-up for brunch. Yum. Pootled off to Mountsorrel for Tara’s baby shower brandishing a large bag containing a thousand variations on the theme of a baby-gro. Gorgeous to see everyone. especially the mum-to-be who I vividly remember as a toddling baby. Scary. Time moves on- in fast motion, speeded up time-lapse, technicolour journey. Can’t wait to meet Finlay Steven Bishop
Swung by home, picked up Jules, picked up Ferg from Sarah’s and dropped in on Ma and Pa. Ma was out of it, not in a good place. She couldn’t hold a conversation. We didn’t stay long as she seemed eager to sleep. She looked so fragile and tiny and Dad looked tired. Know I should spend more time with them but I need more hours…
Off to Glenfield to see Sam. He was very well and happy with his new PJ’s, slippers, dressing gown and socks. I forgot the hearing aid batteries doh! brain like a sieve- so we just talked loudly and entertained all the other inmates.
Home, supper- the boys made stir fry-, and back to my lover, my mac… beavered away for a couple of hours in self-indulgent bliss. Midnight… the phone rang…. Thought it might be about Sam so answered with slight trepidation but it was Pa. He was worried about Ma- she was having a ‘funny turn,’ didn’t recognise him, kept telling him to go home. I think I managed to reassure him a little, arranged to go round first thing in the morning and went to bed leaving my phone on. Read till late, slept fitfully.
Spent all morning with Ma and Pa. She was better than I expected and a little more of this world than yesterday. We talked a lot and I tried to get her to open up about how she was feeling, what was worrying her, what was going on in her mind, tried to get them both to talk to each other. Old age really is a bag0wank… nothing good about it. I need to be more patient I know. I think the crux of Ma is that she cannot, will not accept things. She rails against her failing body, her slipping mind, yet also will not push herself to get out and about, stimulate herself either physically or mentally and I get cross with her, even though I know I have no right and really have no idea how she really feels… hence my poem, State of Independence… My attempt to climb inside her head, fucking scary!
Jo arrived with lunch and I left for work. Had my management meeting and off-loaded re the awful appraisal on Friday which was good and just what I needed. I got a lot of support from my wonderful team and we worked out a cool solution to what seemed to be and insurmountable problem. There is no such thing… I know! ONWARDS…
Many meetings later I arrived home very late and Jo and I decided we were both far too knackered to attend the poetry shindig we were going to, so stayed in and got pissed instead. I love her company so much it was good just to be with her and talk talk talk the night away. We consumed vast quantities of alcohol and decided to journey down memory lane. We left emails and messages with people we’ve not spoken to for years, old school friends, college friends and finally embarked upon a mission to find my first boyfriend… A certain guy who was an incredibly talented illustrator/designer and when we’d last been in touch he’d been studying for an MA at the RCA. Both of us had tried in the past to look him up to no avail but we both felt sure he was somewhere being completely amazing. We looked and we searched, we followed link after link, we ended up at more dead ends than a drunk meandering through Hampton Court Maze… We phoned up a complete stranger… twice… because he had mentioned him a couple of times on his website biog… he ended up hanging up on us… so rude… we contacted an old tutor of Jo’s who had been at the RCA with him, we discovered an eponymous chef who was fat and self congratulatory in equal measure, and a really naff interior designer. Then finally…
… we found him!
And wow fucking wow… I won’t post a link until I’ve checked out he’s OK with it… he may not wish to be associated with me and life, after all, can be complicated enough without some mad ex ex ex ex girlfriend suddenly making contact and plastering the fact all over her blog… Mind you he is super cool and living in NYC!
Suffice to say it was worth the effort. We phoned him… and he picked up… shocked (poor sod!)…. we had a long and drunken (on my part) conversation, we have exchanged several even longer hilarious (on his part) emails and I’m in a whirly swirl of emotions and memories, warm and delicious…
Just this minute heard Sam- Pa-in-law- is out of theatre, in recovery, op went well, moving onto the ICU and we can visit tomorrow after 11am. HOORAH! Perhaps I shall sleep easier tonight. I’ve booked a day off tomorrow so I can go see him whenever. Bless and thank you… who ever
The adorable and talented Joe Little and his band Peyote will be appearing at the O2 arena in Bristol on 27th March Oi Oi Oi I am so proud… details will follow when I get official link. Need to go see I think… meanwhile check them out…
I suddenly feel quite happy even though I’ve just seen the pictures from those kind ministers of justice… me driving in a 30 mph zone at 38mph. The picture is unmistakably of me… and I’ve quite clearly got a fag on… Thank fuck I’m not on the phone
Watch this space- there may be an ad placed soon…
Driver needed- to ferry around an utterly disorganised over extended ridiculously optimistic nutter for several months due to speeding ban. 24 hours availability required, no questions asked, no answers given, discretion imperative, tolerance a bonus, GSOH essential.
Let’s wait and see.
Got six points already, three convictions pending… Shit… Know a good solicitor though… you know who you are… I’m counting on you sweetheart.