Friday 12 September 2008

Feedback Friday :: Chocolate Onions


bulk :: 16st 4
cigarettes smoked :: 0
alcohol units taken :: 18
apples eaten :: 6
bananas eaten :: 5
chocolate bars infected with onion :: 0.5
chocolate bars thrown in the bin :: 0.5
workouts worked out :: 3
swims swum :: 0
fuck-buddies diddled :: 1
fuck-buddies dated :: 1
relationships (increasingly) confused :: 1
books embarked upon :: 1 (Families and How To Survive Them by John Cleese and Robin Skynner)
screens peeked behind :: 2
biographies ordered :: 1 (that of Dr Spock – not Mr Spock, but Dr Spock)
blogs aborted :: 1 (that weather thing was far too much of a commitment)
blogs maintained :: 2 (phew)


I really couldn't think of a title for this thing. Sorry.

Most of my spare time this week – of which there has not been a great deal - has been taken up in preparation for next week. Next week – here on this very blog - is Shame Week. Inspired by a question I asked Morag when I was getting to know her, Shame Week will comprise five bald-headed, bare-faced confessions of a very personal nature, in response to five simple, shameful questions. And I shall be asking those questions of you too. Otherwise what’s the point?

(Actually, there maybe only four. I'm having trouble with the fifth.)

Back to the present however, I had my third appointment with Dr Payne this morning. I told him I’d been going to the gym regularly.

‘Good,’ he said.

I told him I’d been doing my back stretches.

‘Good,’ he said.

And I told him I’d read She’s Come Undone.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Glad to hear it.’

And that was that. He clearly wasn’t remotely interested in any further details, like - for example - whether or not I’d enjoyed the book. The fact that I’d read it was apparently enough. Strange man.

I also told him that my back was feeling much better and that the pain was much less frequent. So he got me on the bench and started digging his hands in. He told me I was less tight. I was pleased, and a little proud. He gave me a brief massage – nothing too violent – and stuck some needles in me. Then at the end of the session he said there was no need to make another appointment. Everything seemed to be in order now. ‘What if my back goes belly up again?’ He nodded slowly, with laboured tolerance. Obviously, he explained, if things go wrong I am to return, but there’s no reason they should if I keep up the exercise.

‘I don’t want to see you again,’ he said. I tried not to take it personally, although I kind of did want to see him again, though obviously, at the same time, I didn’t. I guess what I really wanted was to be his friend. As I shook his hand goodbye, I tried to convey some of this, but he barely looked up from his monitor.

It’s funny. I only met him three times and apart from recommending a book to me, he wasn’t awfully friendly, but you know, I shall miss Dr Payne. I liked the cut of his jib. So much so that I’m currently thinking I might develop a spot of Munchausen Syndrome, just so I can get to feel those strong hands of his working their way into my glutes one final time...

Speaking of strong hands, Morag had a surprise for me this week, which was a pair of tickets to see Matthew Bourne’s Dorian Gray. Not Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Gray you will notice, and not Jason Bourne's (which I think could work), but Matthew Bourne’s. For those of you who don’t know (like – until a few days ago – me) Matthew Bourne is a choreographer. So this adaptation of Wilde’s classic tale of vanity and hedonism was conveyed through - wait for it... dance. Hmm.

Oh, God, I tried to like it, I really did. And I was very grateful to Morag for inviting me along. And I had fun. And I’m glad I saw it. But ultimately, I just didn’t get it. I found it really difficult to follow, and I’m very familiar with the original story, so it shouldn’t have been. I think the main problem was, I respond to words and for me, stories spring from words, not from bodies, and it really doesn't matter how admirably those bodies jerk, ripple and undulate.

And it has to be said, there were some incredible bodies on display. And some phenomenal feats of strength and control. It was sometimes breathtaking to watch. Ultimately though, for me, the story just didn’t come across.

I think the only way I could really appreciate a Matthew Bourne production would be if he were to adapt my life for the stage. In fact, I think I might put that to him. It could be just what he needs.

As for Gray, I’m sure the fault is mine. Probably down to an emaciated aesthetic. Meanwhile, Morag loved it, and thankfully wasn’t remotely upset by my lack of appreciation. Rather she was amused by it, and mocked me mercilessly.

Aaaah, Morag.

Seems we are fuck buddies who date. How odd.

So what else has happened this week? Ah, yes, Keith is back in town, as fresh as a daisy after a triumphant week in the Lakes. The weather may have been a washout but everything else was – as I say – a triumph. So much so that Keith is happy, healthy and even talking of love. I’m happy for him. I know Tilly and I didn’t exactly hit it off when we first met but you know, that doesn’t mean we can’t get it on in the future. Get on I mean. Excuse me. And I’m pleased to report that Tilly is evidently keen to make the effort too. So much so that I am invited to dinner at her house on Sunday evening. I believe Keith will also be in attendance. And Morag too if she desires. And I promise not to go on and on about the beautiful plastic lilies which Keith stole from a film set and gave to Tilly, which Tilly then spent two weeks watering before Keith pointed out to her that they were in fact fake. Although it is hilarious.

I’m looking forward to it.

In the meantime, tonight I’m getting drunk with Keith.

I’m looking forward to that too.

And you? What are you up to this weekend? Do tell.



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24 comments:

Anonymous said...

Tthis weekend?
Er, a bit of this, a bit of that. Some work, as I am VERY behind.
Mr P has tendonitis in his knee, brought on by the stress of dealing with his ex. He had to climb off during sex last night, it was so painful (his knee, not the sex). And it will probably only get worse, as he has to see said ex tomorrow when he collects the nipper in the morning for their contact time. So I guess there wont be any sex this weekend for me, or if there is, it will be gentle and he will have to take on somewhat of a submissive role.

Ahem.

I also imagine I will have a couple of nice 'movements'. How about you? How are things around the arse end?

Anonymous said...

Matthew Bourne's take on "Edward Scissorhands" was really very dreary too. My friend denounced it as Ballet for Chavs.

Anonymous said...

When did you make the move to italics? I've only just noticed, and I'm not sure I like it, if you don't mind me saying.

Anonymous said...

Try something else at Sadlers Wells, I've seen some incredible productions there: their flamenco festival is very good, and they have some great visiting companies.

This weekend I'm hoping to get down to the Francis Bacon exhibition at Tate. I'm betting you like his stuff. Don't you?

M

La Bête said...

Crikey, Hen. That's a lot of info. My arse is fine, thanks. I've been eating All Bran with hot milk and a handful of sultanas. Sometimes a banana.

Hey, CW. I don't really know enough about ballet to know if that's true or not. So I shall take your friend's word for it.

Hello anonymous. You mean the italics in the feedback statistics? I made that move on the very first Feedback Friday on 25th january. It takes a little getting used to, I know. Sorry.

La Bête said...

Hello, M. Flamenco sounds like fun actually, yes, and I do like Francis Bacon. You are most perceptive. Enjoy the exhibition. Let me know if it's any good.

Misssy M said...

This is the first weekend that I will not be giving up my Saturday morning to go on the radio for NO MONEY to talk about crappy films I did not want to see in the first place. For a year now I have been ranting and raving about the station being a bunch of unappreciative arses who I give my free time up for, with no thanks. So I have decided to make it every second week that I give them.

Depressingly I have not yet come up with anything else to do with my Saturday morning which makes me pathetic.


Thankyou Doctor.

dan said...

Stan, you pay remarkably little heed to your non-smoking achievement! I remembered a few posts back but forgot to mention it - congratulations!

I shall be watching Never Ending Story as it's just been re-released on DVD. I can't remember it but my girlfriend tells me it's ace. She's also a fan of the Dark Crystal and Batteries Not Included. Hmm.

Anonymous said...

No, I think he means the italics EVERYWHERE. Can't you see them? Your whole blog is in italics at the moment. You might want to see a doctor about that...

dan said...

Oooh dear! I'm investigating your 'italics' feature Stan - With my dead sexy Mac everything looks lurvely and even with Firefox on a Windows machine you can read your page but, hells bells! MS Internet Explorer is doing *very* sinful things to your wonderful words - is this a widespread 'blogger.com' problem?

Anonymous said...

You got it, hen, that's what I meant. The whole blog is in italics.

This weekend I will be catching up on all the paperwork I've been neglecting lately.

Which will be about as tedious as it sounds.

La Bête said...

Urk! I think I might have just fixed it, but I can't tell. I had an extra italic thing in that post - but yeah, everything was fine on this Mactop. I've taken it out now though. Fingers crossed. If someone can let me know either way, I will sleep tonight. Thanks.

dan said...

All's quiet on the IE front - back to usual Stan. Sleep well...

Anonymous said...

Dorian Gray via ballet? Hmm... I think it's something he could approve of; if he was real.

The beauty of movement, the youth and grace of the dancers- I think he would be quite happy to be debauched on visual delight of ballet about him. Then, of course, he'd seduce a ballerina or a danseur.

I'm glad that Dr. Payne has seen fit to release you on your own recognizance. It means that you've made great strides and I applaud you.

Perhaps the chocolate onions are a warning from life, to keep you from committing the crime of falling back into bad habits. The onion chocolate may have helped you from having to be sent back to him for punishment... or maybe you just shouldn't store chocolate next to onions.

It's funny how Fuck buddies- never, ever, stay that way. I guess it's just that the act is so intimate. If you are going to have that level of intimacy with the SAME person over and over again- you feel as if you have to KNOW the person, you HAVE to like the person, you end up investing yourself more than you thought and then Voila! you're in a relationship.

For the Fuck Buddies thing to stay that way- you really have to keep the relationship completely about the sex- no dinners, no plays, not even rented movies- It has to be purely carnal- completely superficial.

I'm excited that you and "Not Keith" are going to buddy bond. I also hope, that you and "Tilly's as good a name as any", get on well in and try to mend things. Hopefully, even if you can't be friends, you can at least be friendly/civil.

I'm going to an art walk on one of my city's bays, riding a carousel and who knows what else... After the carousel- I'm pretty much going to wing it.

I wish pleasant frolicking to everyone.

Heidi said...

First of all, chocolate being infected with onion sounds sad to me. What a waste. Hopefully it wasn't great chocolate.
I'm fairly new to this blog by the way and want to let you know that I'm enjoying it... a lot.
As for what I'm doing this weekend.... I'm doing this speaking thing at a 'relationships and intimacy' forum. This is not something I normally get invited to talk on. I'm sure it will be very tame and PC, but it still weirds me out a little. I suppose it beats not doing much of anything as is what usually happens on my weekends.

Anonymous said...

Dance dates, dinner dates?'Sounds like you and Morag are a lot more than fuck buddies, and I really hope it works out for the two of you.

Tomorrow I'm off to Glasgow for a day of girly shopping with a friend I don't see that often.Sunday, a car boot sale on the seafront of the lovely place I'm lucky enough to live in.No sex on the horizon, sadly.Oh well.

Anonymous said...

oooh, dinner at the best mates girls (apostrophes optional there, sorry)? Take care now. That's a big step.

We're going up north with my beast's Mum, so very little fucking going on there I fear, which is a pity. Still, I'm really going to get to know Middleton. I can't wait.

Anonymous said...

Well I live in Houston, and so this weekend we are going to hang on for dear life and hope that our house is OK......

Never a dull moment. And I only moved here 8 weeks ago. Bugger.

Anonymous said...

Hello Stan,
I do love to read your feedback Fridays.
This weekend I shall be recovering from my birthday and possibly upping the morphine lollies to cope with these dastardly kidney stones. Good fun. You made my week brighter so my weekend will be better than norm I'm sure. Well, I can hope.
Wishing you all a happy weekend. xxx

Mrs. Hall said...

I don't know why people can't believe that their genitals are not attached to the heart. Of course your f buddies business is evolving.

AND ROCK ON with the work outs.

KEEP GOING!

I see the superman costume just wating there, in your closet.

Soon you will wear it!!

:)

Mrs. Hall

Runaround Sue said...

Chocolate onions sound like something you'd buy from one of those catalogues you get in Sunday supplements, like the chocolate coated scorpions or coffee that's been regurgitated by civits.
My weekend? I'm off to a spa day with my best friend, followed by a spot of horror at the cinema tonight. Have a good one

Anonymous said...

Fuck buddies who date? Is that possible??

Wisewebwoman said...

I feel I stay too long when I go to parties, even when they're thrown for me. Like tonight. I don't drink, I don't smoke but I talk my fool head off. Like I've been bottled up for a couple of months and need to lay it all out in amusing (to me) outbursts and think gad am I boring everyone, gad do they want to go to bed, gad they're too nice to kick me out.
Nice gifts, though, nice, nice people.
I'm home now and it's 3.06 a.m. and I'm wired.
With regard to FBs, never, ever works, too much spillage from the other departments of life.
It will all end in tears. Unless you fall in love.
XO
WWW

La Bête said...

Thanks, Selena. Hope you enjoyed the carousel. Some say life is a carousel. It isn’t. It’s dodgem cars.

Hi, Heidi. I hope your talk went well. Now, tell me everything you know about relationships and intimacy. I think I may need some pointers.

Thanks, Caroline. Sex on the horizon sounds pretty distant anyway. I don’t thin you’re missing out. Hope you enjoyed Glasgow. Or if that’s not really possible, I hope you enjoyed seeing your friend.

Cheers, Cat. Were you being sarcastic about Middleton? It doesn’t sound like a very interesting place, I must say. Middleton. Neither here nor there. A bit like Greyville. Or Blandford. Oh well.

Crikey. Good luck, Andy. My fingers are crossed for you.

Hey, Aiko. Morphine lollies sound great, but of course, I’m pretty sure they’re not. Have a great week. Looking forward to your ruminations.

Cheers, Mrs H. I’ve just got back from the gym actually. Thrumming. Mmmm…

Hey, Zoe. I think I need to start reading the Sunday supplements. They sound kinda cool.

Hello, Ms Snow. I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I know.

WWW, welcome back! I’m not sure that if I fall in love, it won’t end in tears. But we’ll see. Thanks for popping by.