annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Shaving and stuff

I just had to turn the telly off as I keep getting distracted by naked females on Naked Attraction. Everyone's pubic hair has been shaved off - some have a little strip pf hair but most don't, most are utterly hairless and therefore childlike. I mean, what the fuck? I may have ranted about this on here before, in which case I apologise but it really does my head in. One of the things that pisses me off most is that when I had my big breakdown in 2001, I lost all my secondary hair, pubes, armpits, legs, most but not all eyebrows and lashes, when I was a non-shaver right from the mid-70s. Armpits and legs as furry as when I first hit puberty. I never used to care about getting changed in communal changing rooms at swimming pools but now I'd want to hide, or tell everyone "I didn't shave, it just fell out!" Not really as I don't actually give a fuck what strangers think about me, but it's a bit bloody ironic, isn't it?

In writing group last week we had a passage from a book called Wintering, about how we're out of step with the rest of life on earth in that everything else slows down or stops altogether as winter sets in, whereas we go Christmas shopping. Well I don't, but I do march about in all weathers, pushing myself as hard as I can, so I decided to slow right down, but since then I've barely stopped. Today was all about doing a painting that can be used as Christmas card, without fucking it up - only partially successful - and visiting my niece to deliver the soft toy I couldn't resist in Ikea for her new baby son. That seems little enough, but I kept adding things and adding things until in the end I'd been busy from 10.30 till 5.30 and had got soaked twice making mad dashes to the car in torrential showers. Ah well. I have a dress I can wear to Nephew's wedding next week and the painting I bought myself as a treat with my writing workshop wages is at the framers. And I got a photo for the prompt 'weather' which I really liked till I saw on the laptop that it's blurry as fuck.

On the bright side though, it seems this party at Downing St could be - oh I can't bring myself to write anything down - I'm still not playing with Hope, Hope is a motherfucker who can't be trusted - but the story's not going away. Even the BBC is leading with it and Ant and Dec keep bringing it up in I'm a Celeb. For friends overseas - in December last year London was in a Tier 4 lockdown which meant no mixing indoors unless for crucial work business, most work was from home etc. Specifically, no work Christmas parties. By law. Punishable by fines of £10,000. At this time people were dying of Covid in hospital without their families being able to say goodbye, let alone be with them. Now it turns out that there was a party at 10 Down St - our equivalent to the white house, on Dec 18th, with dozens of people, drinks, snacks, party games, into the small hours. Their denial of it is really half-hearted as if they don't give a fuck, but it's looking like a sticking point for many people, including, at last, some journalists.

Today I am grateful for: lots of little things going my way.

Keep safe, darlings. Hasta la vista xxx

11:05 p.m. - 07.12.21


previous - next

latest entry

about me





random entry

Everyday Blessings - 14.12.21
Indoors again, miserably - 13.12.21
Rough - 12.12.21
Cards - 09.12.21
Come home - 08.12.21

other diaries:


Site Meter