annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Love my dog For some reason I'm up late looking at the Glastonbury line-up, wondering if I can see Candi Staton on the West Holts stage, then make it to Christine and the Queens on the John Peel stage and still catch the last knockings of Elton John's supposedly last ever gig at the Pyramid. Which is all clearly important to have sussed out on a Tuesday night in April, especially as it's only a fan page, no official set times have been published beyond the headliners. And Cat Stevens in the Sunday afternoon old gits slot (aka legends, but you don't fool us with your flattery). I'm wondering if he'll do I love my dog https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ET5drt_utUY I find myself humming that to little Shirley quite often. I seem to have come up against a lot of people complaining about 'all this non-binary nonsense' and pissing me off in he process. One woman in the recovery art group, who I do quite like was saying she was going to name herself as a Brussels sprout and I could no longer keep quiet, I just had to get in there. What pisses me off is my inability to remember all the biology to do with chromosomes and genes and hormones and how many ways there are for them to go 'wrong' and for a person to grow without a nice clear cut either/or male/female biology. There's a great twitter thread about it, that I repost every time it comes up and keep trying to remember but it hasn't stuck firmly yet. But I told her about it and how those of us with a clear and coherent sense of who we are should consider ourselves lucky and appreciate that it only seems like people are banging on about it a lot because it's only now that there's been any conversation about it at all, but there have always been non binary people, they've just lived lives of silent confusion, unable to make sense of it, so shut the fuck up with all this bollocks about Brussels sprouts and get back to painting that mushroom. I did a first attempt at a painting for Daughter's 40th birthday - how can she be 40? though Sam would have been 45 next birthday, so that's how. In fact, now I mention it I'm going to stop writing and go and do the next bit of it, now the last bit must be dry. 12:51 a.m. - 12.04.23 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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