Friday, 26 September 2008

Feedback Friday :: Things Change

Being for the period 12th - 25th September…

bulk :: 16st 1
cigarettes smoked :: 0
alcohol taken :: 6 bottles of wine
gym visits :: 7
apples eaten :: 23
bananas eaten :: 12
kilos of spinach eaten :: 2
biscuits eaten :: 2 packets of chocolate Hob Nobs (oops)
milk drunk :: 10 pints (semi-skimmed)
blogs I want to write :: 1 (This one. I refuse to believe this is really written by the Honey Monster. I want the job. They could pay me in Sugar Puffs.)
emotional maelstroms :: 2

After the Carnival of Shame that was last week, I have some catching up to do with the feedback.

Where to start? Ah, yes, the ladies...

Things have gone awry with Morag and I. We’re still buddies of course. We just don’t fuck anymore. There’ll be more about this on Monday.

I can’t pretend not to be upset about it. Actually I can. I did pretend just the other day. But it’s useless. It’s a tissue. (Bless me.) Transparent as a teenage boy. I am upset about it. I’m upset at how it came about. I’m upset at how easily it could have been different. I’m upset at what’s going to happen next. Because it’s screamingly obvious.

Anyway, Monday, Monday. Morag Monday.

Unfortunately, there is more. Upheaval, that is. I mean, I know that change is what life is all about, but I really wouldn’t mind a bit of stability for once; a bit of constancy. Emotional constancy if nothing else.

But anyway. Last weekend. It wasn’t all self-pity and kitten-play. I also went to visit my dad for the first time in a very long time. And it was weird. It was very weird. Mostly it was weird because it was like meeting a different man. He is - as they say - a shadow of his former self. This however, is a good thing. He is not the man he used to be and thank fuck for that because the man he used to be was an utter shit.

There is, unsurprisingly, a great deal to be said about the whole business, not least because my father told me things that I never knew, things which if they are true, change everything and must be acted upon. But before I write about it here I must go over the whole thing myself – my childhood, my parents, the faults they filled me up with, the screens they had me build (I mentioned I’m reading Families and How to Survive Them; it’s helping me to understand). Plus I have to figure out what I think about the new information.

I’m all at sixes and sevens to be honest. (What a peculiar expression that is. I like it.)

Everything else seems kind of trivial by comparison. I’m still going to the gym, still eating a lot of fruit and vegetables (mostly spinach), still giving in to the occasional Hob Nob binge, still drinking too much wine. My weight is still inching in the right direction, but some of the fat is slowly being replaced by muscle, which is nice and appeals to my (perhaps surprisingly acute) sense of vanity.

Speaking of spinach, spinach is my new thing. What I tend to do is this: I empty a 250g packet of the stuff into a massive pan and then I pour boiling water over it. It’s done in about a minute. Maybe less. Then I get rid of as much of the water as I can and I pour the mushrooms I’ve been frying in olive oil and chilli all over the spinach. Then, if I’m feeling particularly deserving, I sprinkle some grated cheese over the top. It’s damn good, I tell you.

This is my life.

In other news, my piles are petering out. The pain has stopped completely, which is a godsend, but there is still occasionally quite a lot of blood. Sometimes it’s a shock to look down into the bowl after what has been an ostensibly smooth movement and observe what looks like the aftermath of a particularly grisly murder. Sometimes I can see the blood dripping slowly from my back door, splashing into the mess beneath. Sometimes I think it would be best not to talk about these things in public, but then I think, if people didn’t talk about these things, we’d still be living in the Dark Ages. Sometimes I think we are still living in the Dark Ages. Sometimes I think I think too much. Sometimes I don’t.

Speaking of medical matters, the stomach pain stopped on 7th September. No reason that I can think of. It was really bad on the Saturday and then it stopped. So I didn’t go back to the doctor. I didn’t want to tempt fate.

What else?

Nothing else.

Time to get on. Things to do.

Have a great weekend. What are you doing by the way? Anything interesting?

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BenefitScroungingScum said...

I'm counting my piles. It's a tribute to your blog rather than a fun filled afternoon activity. As such. Erm
Bendy Girl

Misssy M said...

Here's a rather fab twist to your Spnach recipe. Do what you've been doing re spinach and mushrooms. Then put it in a ceramic or pyrex oven dish and top with a mix of breadcrumbs and cheese(maybe a mix of cheddar and parmesan- up to you (and whatever herb or spice you like- paprika is good). The stick under the grill til it goes brown.

Serve with too much wine. Slainte!

Ani Smith said...

Oh, Misssy M, I am shocked! Bete's got a perfectly healthy vegetable dish and you are suggesting that he drown it in cheese and breadcrumbs and wine. Disgusting, I say!

*scurries off to purchase ingredients*

rope bunny said...


this weekend? I am tying people up and do nefarious things to them.

You're in London; if your last experience of tying up didn't scare you away completely, there are many women out there who would kill (or at least, submit) to be tied up by a man with rope. There are even classes to teach you how to do it.


Selena said...

1) hooray for your gyming and spinach eating...Keep it up!

2) Congrats on the easing of the pain in your bum- sorry about the blood,but it's just blood. Ladies deal with it on a monthly basis.

3) I'm sorry you and Morag are no longer fuc..are just buddies now. But it's not a bad thing to have a friend. At least, it's not like she just stopped talking to you. Wait- maybe that is a bad thing- maybe it'd be better for it to be a clean cut? That's between you and Morag

4)Parents are weird...It's easy to forget that they are people- not just mom and dad. To forget that they make mistakes, have character flaws, and lead their own lives outside of the child. That they suffer from their own emotional turmoil. It's very brave-trying to mend or even just understand family, Bete. Good luck.

5)weekend plans- I'm going to the gym, watching my sister's field hockey game, Having a Birthday BBQ for my roommate, possibly going to a haunted house, watching FOOTBALL, reading, running errands. Hooray for the weekend.

6) I hope you have a gret weekend

Our Glamorous Heroine said...

Sorry to hear that things are sad and complicated. Don't give yourself too much of a hard time if you eat some biscuits. Take care.

Clare Sudders said...

Stomach pain = IBS?

I know you were already quoting this, but I love it so much I can't resist (and it follows on nicely from the lyrics I left in the other comment box):

They fuck you up, your mum and dad
They may not mean to but they do
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra just for you

[bit in the middle I can never remember]

Man hands on misery to man
It deepens like a coastal shelf
Get out as early as you can
And don't have any kids yourself.

What am I doing? Reading your blog as procrastination, instead of editing my second novel so it can be translated into German in time to be published in Germany next July. It's about people fucking each other's heads up with New Age nonsense, mind-reading magic and sex.

Clare Sudders said...

I have IBS btw. It's not as bad as it sounds. Really it's just a convenient label for random and unpredictable stomach upheaval. It comes and goes. [shrug]

Anonymous said...

Aren't families fun? I'm quite lucky, as my family may be neurotic and annoying, but at least they love each other. And drive each other crazy. My Dad's a total control freak,who will hold a grude for years if you show up five minutes late for dinner. My Mum is very OCD. My brother is a religious nut. But I love them. :)

I'd get the blood thing checked out. Luckily, it sounds like just hemorrhoids, and I've never heard of anyone bleeding to death from those, but you never know...Sometimes eating a lot of roughage can irritate them. And constipation.


Selena said...

"It's about people fucking each other's heads up with New Age nonsense, mind-reading magic and sex."

Clare- i'm intrigued- I love magic and reading ;-) and although I've forgotten what it's like- I'm pretty sure I love sex... So I will check out "The Dying of Delight"

Clare Sudders said...

(apologies Bete...)

"So I will check out "The Dying of Delight""

Please please please buy it from me? I know you can get it from Amazon Marketplace for a penny, but it's out of print so I don't get royalties any more, and I am a struggling author with no other way of funding the writing... and I only charge a fiver (half the cover price) and two quid for postage... and I will sign it and put a personal message in and everything...

Anonymous said...

The bit in the middle is;

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Bete - at least you had a real conversation with your Dad. Millions of people never even manage to achieve that.

Clare Sudders said...

Interesting, I've missed out the conciliatory bit. It's lot harsher without the middle.

Wisewebwoman said...

Ah Bete and poor Le bum of La Bete. I hope this is nothing to worry about, it sounds rather grisly.
I've bestowed an award (with damn good reason!) on you over at my blog. Yours for the taking.

Anonymous said...

i hate spinach, but am marginally inspired because of the simplicity of your approach... nah... i'll drink more gin.

regarding families? they can always push your buttons. always. they were there for the installation...

hope something makes you grin or giggle this weekend. my dog is licking my foot (pervo-canine) and that makes me grin...

Larry Teabag said...

Lat nat this wrechched wo thyn herte gnawe, But manly set the world on sexe and seuene.

Glad your farmers are on the mend.

Anonymous said...

Hey there Bete, I came to visit after reading about your excellent blog at Wise Web Woman's blog. I have been glued to reading it for the last half an hour, it's frank and it's fabulous. I wish I was as daring as you Bete.

I will try out your spinach recipe. I put a whole bunch of it in a wok with soy sauce and crushed garlice, when whap on the lid and hey presto, spinach heaven in three minutes. I love quickie recipes.

Nick Tann said...

Just wanted to say that I love your blog.
I never come here but instead get your email version, that may change.
Today I will make cider and perhaps go to the beach.
I want to swim and fly a kite while Mrs Nick wishes to walk along cliffs.
Who will win?
I will also blog my gig last night which was fantastic and most probably my best ever.

Anonymous said...

Fathers and their late-life, dementia-loosened revelations!

I wish you the best with coming to terms with whatever it is he's been hiding from you. Hopefully it's just something unpleasant about the "mysterious disappearance" of that puppy you had when you were six.

Alright Tit said...

It's comforting to know I'm not the only one blogging about their piles. This is the stuff of great literature.

42 said...

This weekend at Chez 42 I shall be lazing around in my pants and a t-shirt whilst drinking coffee and petting my garden cat. I may venture into the woods for a walk or perhaps just hang about the house in front of the television. Either way, I plan on enjoying the first day off I've had in 45 days running. I also plan on sleeping late, cooking a real meal and drinking a little wine followed by some Amaretto over ice. It's the little things n life dontcha know.

Vulgar Wizard said...

Here's what I did this weekend:

No, I didn't fly this time; I'm part of the ground/chase crew every weekend. It's fun!

Anonymous said...

I did nowt. Fuck off world mood. I killed a moth, tho'.

Miss Snuffleupagus said...

I'd rather eat a ton of bland spinach than sit with the family for the family stories. I don't make it a regular habit because each time I come across them there's always some dirty secret (it's like they have selective Alzheimer's, either that or they wait so they can do my head in). The last time, I found out I had a secret sibling that I had no idea about, no names (no one knows the name) or anything else apart from a secret post ww II adoption, and the last time I unearthed two half siblings, they did my head in. I told my family I didn't need any more secret siblings. My parents should have been in TV soaps.
Relax, grab yourself a glass of red wine, and repeat: "you can pick your friends, but not your family and it's not my fault."

Lindy said...

Thought you might like to know where the expression "sixes and sevens" comes from, Bete. It's a Livery Company thing: there are loads of 'em in the City of London, as you know, but the Top Twelve (such as the Worshipful Company of Goldsmiths, Mercers and Grocers) are the ones who are really up their own arses. Any road, the Merchant Tailors and the Skinners could never agree their order of precedence in this list, going back hundreds of years, and being at, surprise, surprise, respectively sixth and seventh positions. So what they do is alternate and one year the Skinners are 6th and the Tailors 7th and the following year vice versa....hence the expression coming to mean not knowing where you are. Fascinating, no?!

janetyjanet said...

Poem-wise, definitely prefer the more upbeat Adrian Mitchell to the orginial Larkin...

"They tuck you up, your Mum and Dad
They read you Peter Rabbit, too.
They give you all the treats they had
And add some extra, just for you.

They were tucked up when they were small,
(Pink perfume, blue tobacco-smoke),
By those whose kiss healed any fall,
Whose laughter doubled any joke.

Man hands on happiness to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
So love your parents all you can
And have some cheerful kids yourself.