Another Pair Of Eyes

Cusp

On the cusp, on the edge, whatever other relevant phrases you can think of. A transition is always a little jarring (with the possible exception of one of the transitions on the film I edited on schizophrenia, which was so brilliant it was hardly noticeable *pride*).

As you all may have guessed, there is a stirring in the millpond of my lovelife. We shall call her D, seeing as fancy single-letter abbrev. seem to be all the rage at the moment. It’s at the stage now, though, where we’re beginning to change from the light-hearted, worry-free banter and chat to actually getting to know stuff about each other. It’s a bit tricky as its all still quite new so we’re both treading carefully, but hopefully it’ll all hold together and solidify a bit. I’m very cautious, but I’d like to think I’m cautiously optimistic.

Wish me luck.

And just for you Dickie, ‘Thoughts’.

Russian Roulette

I heard this the other day and found it reasonable, much as I hate going along with the crowd when it comes to, well, anything. Still, fairly haunting and despite not being ‘catchy’ per se I find it stuck in my head on a regular basis. Problem is, nothing can really follow it in a playlist. I like playlists, and I like them to be well designed with regard to mood or rhythm or whatever.

This is a big problem.*

*possibly exacerbated by the imminent start of my essay.

Surgery

Yesterday I had some surgery and today I have inadequate painkillers, but that’s not the point of this post. The post is about feeling inadequate, which coincidentally comes right back to the surgery.

Alright alright, something about the surgery:

I was a day case so it was a pretty minor op but due to the nature of it I was under general anaesthetic. Turns out, GA is quite cool – I remember that I was going to focus on staying awake, and I remember a sensation of cold (but not in a creepy, scary way; more in a reassuring, refreshing way if that makes sense) spreading out from the cannula where the anaesthetic was going in. And then, voila, I was awake again, and an hour of life had passed me by without trace. In fact, despite surgery, I felt pretty terrific, and a little bit drunk. Not quite room-spinning drunk, but definitely this-bed-is-the-most-comfy-thing-ever drunk. I was also talking to the nurse, which was challenging because I could never quite seem to be bothered to open my mouth despite my best efforts. This did, however, pass. Still, GA = fascinating experience, and a perfect illustration of just how much willpower you’d need to make a little headway against a drug. And, of course, a good illustration of how long it takes blood to move from the arm to the brain. Not long, is the answer.

Sadly, however, the painlessness of GA is gone and the local anaesthetic they also administered at the time has now worn off. The cocodamol that I now have available is about as much use as a cardboard boat against the *doctorspeak* ‘discomfort’ */doctorspeak* and I’m basically trying to be as sedentary and as still as I can. Those of you who know me will realise how much effort staying completely still for a day is costing me – I am not impressed. We roll around to the inadequacy – despite it all clearly not being my fault, I feel like I am letting an endless flood of people down. I’m not going to hockey tomorrow, I can’t go to the gym with my housemates, I can’t walk to the shop with my neighbour. I had to ask my friend to drive me to the hospital tomorrow. I might not be able to do the 3-legged pub crawl on friday night, or go to a good friends 21st.

I hate that feeling. Unreasonable as it might be to blame myself for things that are beyond my control, I still do. I feel the tiniest bit helpless and I just can’t stand it.

Heal.

Radio

I don’t ever really listen to the radio. I don’t even own a radio, and I certainly never listen to radio plays. That is, until yesterday, when we were sat down, force fed some biscuits, given a piece of paper and 40 minutes of a radio play: “Do’s and Don’ts for the Mentally Interesting”.

And it is interesting. And brilliant. And elegantly done. And it really, really, really gets the point across.

“You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. And you’ll probably do both if you’re a manic depressive, like me.”

It’s 40 minutes (although it doesn’t feel that long) so make sure you’ve got some time, and then listen.

Apocalypse

I wake up some mornings and there is nobody in the house.* I go downstairs, and all is silent. There are still cars in the drive, but all around me is still and nothing but the birdsong breaks the all-pervading sense of isolation. I take time on these mornings to think ‘what if…’ and the what if involved is as follows:

What if you wake up tomorrow and everybody is gone? You are left, to your knowledge, completely isolated, nobody and no bodies. The infrastructure of the country is still intact, but unmaintained how long will it last? What are your priorities? Food? Sustainability in hunting and growing stuff? Communications and attempting to find someone? Transport and shelter? What do you do to accomplish all these?

Increasingly, I find myself thinking these kind of thoughts. In a way, I long for a ‘simpler’, undirected life – one in which your energies are spent keeping alive and sheltered and fed, in which all the darkness and isolation and burdens of this ‘civilised’ life are undone. Life would be much simpler, and I do honestly believe, happier if we lived in tribal units and spent our days doing what was necessary to survive, using the knowledge we have now with a population of around 0.01% of what it is now. I sometimes feel so limited by the society of today – sure, I can do this and that but there is no getting away from it, no escape from the stringent lines in which we are compelled to move. Sure, I can choose my job, but I basically have to have one because otherwise I’d have no money, and money might not make the world go round but it DOES make our worlds move forward, up, down etc in the world we live in.

I’m sure much of it is ‘the grass is always greener’ banality, but that doesn’t stop me thinking about it, imagining it, and just occasionally I’ll pick up a skill which I’d feel would be of use in the post-apocalypse world.

Practical skill?

*of course these days I wake up to the dulcet tones of a disc saw and the refreshing scent of tile sealant and grout.

Circles

I’m bored of my current music ‘phase’: a set of playlists which I play often. I’m hunting new music (and therefore spending money I don’t have)* so anyone’s recommendations are welcome. I go through these time when I play a particular set of music a lot, then abruptly go off it and am left at a loss (hence yesterday’s album-buying spree [Florence + The Machine's 'Lungs' and Little Boots' 'Hands'...contemplating La Roux as well but not currently convinced...anyone capable of giving me a recommendation own this?]). Times like that I tend to put my library on shuffle, realise I am not finding enough stuff and start running around people for something else new and interesting. I come back to music a few months/years later and then it all seems new and fresh, and the cycle repeats. Around we go.

My hobbies tend to fit a similar cycle, with the exception of badminton which is solidly by my side and has been for the last 4-5 years. Piano follows a cycle that is measured in days (grrr, <insert piece title here> I’ll come back later), poi/staff one of months, hockey has an annual quiet phase in January (in no way related to the rain, ice, dark and dangerous cycling roads in winter that are part of getting to hockey at that time of year).

Faux-profound statement: I guess most of human life is done by cycles and circles, from day/night, social circles, seasons up to the life cycle itself.

In other news, today my ascent to what should be my lifetime-thus-far peak of fitness begins in earnest. 40 miles a day (cycling) for the next four days, then upwards from there working up to 100-150 miles once every couple of days by the end of July. Sadly, today it is also pissing down with rain so I’m going to begin my ascent to fitness with a descent into hypothermia if I’m not careful.

On that note, I need to go roll out into the world outside.

Circles

*On the note of money, Amazon have quite a few free songs kicking around, they change a lot – if you keep an eye there are a few good ones in there. It’s where I picked up this, which I rather like.

Ireland

I’m back from the Emerald Isle. Anyone miss me?

Probably not, what with Honduras and the Wimbledon finals and days so hot you could die, but there we have it. I certainly enjoyed being disconnected from everything and living with a group of college friends for a week or so. We were right down south near Cork in a house by the sea and it was lovely (although there were the inevitable days when it was Rain and everyone was stuck inside and sharp edges started to show). Hats off to the organiser, who did a fantastic job. The house also had the world’s most out-of-tune piano, which was fun. Still, after all the good times and all the constant company, being dropped back into the world is so mundane.

However, back in the real world I am, and with that comes to inevitable job hunting, boredom, work and mysteriously wasting day after day without really understanding what you’ve been doing. Any holiday at home is a holiday at home too long, in my opinion – I like to be doing things. If life is getting boring, then you’re doing something wrong. Harsh? Maybe.

Anyway, enough of that. At some point during the holiday we were all sitting around the dinner table assigning an animal to each person based on their characteristics (read: based on very little). It was one of those throwaway converations that start suddenly out of nowhere and disappear just as quickly. Still, some interesting things came out of it: some people are really quite perceptive.

One thing I did (re)discover in Ireland was my love of reading. The only things I read at uni are road signs and textbooks, neither the most inspiring works. If I do read a book, it takes me quite a while before I can get through it because lets face it, time spent reading could be used for cooking or working or going out or chatting and it feels kind of indulgent. As such, I only brought a couple of books with me to Ireland. They were finished in the first two days (incidentally, The End Of Mr Y. is really quite an interesting read, and very closely matches my ideas about God), and a further 3 bought from Waterstone’s  in Cork went in a similar fashion (C.J. Samson. Go read.). It just goes to show how much I missed it: the phrase ‘vociferous appetite’ would not be out of place.

I do suffer the same problems with books that I do with films though. Even if I know a book to be good, I will have great difficulty starting it if I think it’s going to be serious and thought-provoking, even though I know I’ll probably enjoy it. Still, its enjoyable, can’t complain.

I count myself lucky to be able to read as I do.

I’m going to stop writing now. Literary verbiage.

maybe I’ll just write a quick note directing you to Florence + the Machines’ Rabbit Heart, because I like it. Stick with it.