annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Cold

1. Yesterday (Thursday) was shit. I should have wound myself down before, but I didn't so my body sent me the snotty nose and the shivers as a reminder to fucking sit still and rest already, but I didn't want to, I wanted to go to yoga, so I got stupid about it and walked up and down the sea glass beach again, but this time I took my phone and got a nice picture I intended to go to yoga anyway, but I mistimed getting back to the car and would have been late so I went home in a huff and went to bed, to sleep for hours with the little dog on the bed, all snuggly and OK in the end, but terrible to let it go so far. The snots and the shivers vanished as if they had never been...


2. At Friday art I tried to make little paintings of the photo but I think I tried too hard to be too literal I like aspects of each of them - the sea is better in the one above but the sea defences are better in the other.


3. Younger Daughter gave me a voucher for a treatment in this salon as part of my Christmas present so today I had a facial. Fucking hell. It's another world, all that. I am so relieved I don't do any of it, honestly. I mean, it was OK - it's a massage of your face, what's not to like? I tell you what's not to like - all the slimy shit they smear you with. "Product" She said if I liked any of the products she used, they were all available to buy. I said, "No, you're all right, love. I just wash my face in water and every now and then I rub in some coconut oil." She got a bit frosty after that so I guessed she's on commission.  As I lay there I tried to work out how it made me feel, all the bullshit, all the different treatments on offer, not one of which I'd want. You can fuck right off with your waxing for starters. I hate that - adults are hairy and children aren't - what's with pretending women's bodies are childlike? At first I thought not liking the salon vibe made me feel like a bloke, because if this is femaleness, it has nothing to do with me, but it's not really femaleness is it? It's just shite. I'm glad it was alien to me, I felt proud of that, as if I am real in some way that I can take strength from. Not that the other clients aren't real, but at least I'm not thinking that smearing slimy shit all over me is going to make any difference to anything beyond my bank balance. I wanted to wash it all off afterwards - my eyes are still bleary eight hours later. Nasty. But cool to have been in there and had a facial. Another new experience.


4. Today's story that I read to ED on the pier was by Haruki Murakami, called "On seeing the 100%
   perfect girl one beautiful April morning" and here's a link to it, if you have five minutes and like stories.   http://www.spaldinghigh.lincs.sch.uk/media/Haruki%20Murakami.pdf  It was kind of thrilling, to be sat  on the pier as the sun went down, in the icy cold, almost freezing, February afternoon, snuggled in close to ED's wheelchair to make sure she could catch my words, reading this strange story, so unlike any other story I have read. The only Japanese fiction I know is either Japanese/British - Kazuo Ishiguro or Japanese/American - Ruth Ozeki, My Year of Meat. I love the way fiction takes you into a culture experientially, even if you can't quite understand what it is you have experienced. It's why I like old fiction much more than historical fiction - I love the things they take for granted.


5. We lost the dog today, for about 40 minutes. She was inside the house all the time, though fuck knows where as there aren't any hiding places big enough - I could feel the edge of insanity creeping back in as Bloke and I searched and searched and searched, then suddenly there she was at the top of the stairs, wagging her tail, like a bastard.

Night night. Thank you for reading

1:17 a.m. - 10.02.18

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