Category: fark

Thursday

Just now, about ten minutes ago or perhaps fifteen, in a series of events which I cannot quite describe, I very nearly choked on a piece of toast. That is, I did choke, and very nearly could not do anything about it.

The mister and the lads had just left for school, and so, I was home alone, dressed in smelly gym clothes*, but not yet with my socks.

Fark, but it was scary, and if my whole life did not exactly flash before my eyes, the thought of not being alive was sharper than I would like it to be for many several years.

*the day your gym clothes are smelly before you even go to the gym is the day you know the laundry cannot be postponed another day

Vertical Marathon

So, I was at my Friday morning circuit class yesterday morning, the 8.30 one, the one I never, ever miss and I was at the star jumps station when the woman at the next station (something to do with shoulders) said, ‘So where were you last week?’

And you know, I had to think for a moment. Where was I? ‘I was somewhere,’ I said, asking my brain to co-operate, and then I remembered…

that first of all, we got into the car extremely early indeed.

From miscblogphotos

We drove out of Abu Dhabi.

From miscblogphotos

Until we got to Dubai, where I registered.

From miscblogphotos

And then I ran.

From miscblogphotos

All the way to the top of this.

From miscblogphotos

And that, my friends, is an event on which I cannot believe I am reporting. Me. Running.

The statistics: 52 floors, 1,334 steps, 16 minutes.

That day, the day I ran a Vertical Marathon, it was my mum’s birthday, and she would’ve been 63 which is the age my dad was when he died. Somehow or other it all seemed to fit together in a way that made me think less about sadness and more about the depth of things.

PS See up there in that photo of all of us – that baby carrier on the back of the man behind us? There was a child in that when that man did his run.

Because I need just one more lust object

Because of reasons*, it has taken me all day (on and off) to get the pinky beecroft and the white russians album from emusic onto my mp3 player.

And now that I have Senor Beecroft crooning Call Me through my headphones, can I just say that it has been worth Every. Single. Second.

Call me.

Do I ever wish.

….

*the most obvious of which being that I am a 39 year old woman and not a nine year old boy

What was that? Are you all right?

Remember this?

You don’t?

You mean you’re not committing the details of my life to memory so that you’ve got all the backstory in case you’re asked to come in one day when one of the other writers is sick*?

Well, whether you remember it or not, I’m going to tell you that last night, I plugged it in using the replacement charger which was a little flimsy, and there was an enormous BANG followed by a swear word or two, a jump off the couch by the mister, a silence as all of the electrical appliances in the house went off, and a thank you to the universe for the invention of circuit breakers. Now, the powerpoint is looking quite black. The mister says it’s fine, but I’m calling an electrician in before I use it again.

I love that phone, I really do. But it’s not been working so great lately. And I can’t justify spending the enormous amounts of money required to replace the phone. Plus, like, I find having it switched on enormously stressful. Like I’d better answer it. And now. So I think it’s back to whatever it is they’ll give me with the cheapest plan I can find.

Oh, for independent wealth.

*I always hoped that one day I’d be asked to fill in for a writer on Home and Away or EastEnders or anything really, and that when I did I’d wow them with my intricate knowledge of those programmes. And they say that people don’t value a free university education. I’d still do it. Just in case you’re some television executive looking to take a risk on an ageing, but potentially excellent television writer.

reality bites

They’ve been making mud drums at school. And yesterday, the mud drums came home.

‘So what’s this?’ I asked, pointing to the top. I was just curious. I didn’t mean to start some earnest lesson.

‘It’s goat peel,’ he said.

‘Oh,’ I said. He must have noticed my flinch which was also kind of a laugh, because that’s a bit funny goat peel.

‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘The goats were dead.’ Small silence. ‘They didn’t kill them.’ Small silence. ‘Just for this.’ Small silence. ‘Did they?’

Not what I would have hoped

Tonight, I went on stage and did my set (that, I have learnt, is the way to describe the string of jokes you put together on any given night) and I DIED. That, I have long known, is the word we use to describe the night you go on stage and no one laughs. I have not, until now, known exactly what it meant in a personal sense. But it means exactly what it says. DIED.

This was not just some mild oh that didn’t go too well, did it and not even a slightly less mild shit, that went bad, didn’t it. No, this was a full on death. Like…well, I will leave it to your imagination. Only you can’t imagine how bad it was.

Now, I have many ideas about what might have gone wrong. Took the wrong lipstick for starters. But I dunno, it was so bad, I don’t think it’s worth dwelling on it for too long, because I don’t know that there’s much I can learn from it. The only thing I can think there is to learn is that even when you die you are still alive to tell the tale.

The pity of it is, is that because of a few other things going on right now, I’m not going back on stage for another month at which point I am in quite an important gig. It does not bode well, does it?

In other news, my new wool from Bendigo Woollen Mills arrived, and I have started what is proving to be a very beautiful jumper which begins with a large amount of moss rib, a truly beautiful stich. I’m sure that’s not how most comedians console themselves.

And in other, other news, the Tooth Fairy did come. She left a note which ended ‘PS Your house is very messy. I hope that you will help your Mum and Dad to clean it up.’ Never miss an opportunity.

PS Thanks for your comments on the last post, which I will digest and answer tomorrow.