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Monday, July 21, 2008

Something Had To Give

Had such an exhausting weekend. Once upon a time, when I said that it would be because I'd been out clubbing then going to strange orgies and causing riots and the like, but this weekend it was just the problem of assuming I would be able to do enough things to keep everyone happy without remembering that having the energy to do so would be key to my ability to enjoy myself.

Friday night was Jonotron's Roller-disco birthday party, which was a hoot, but we had to leave before the end because we'd agreed to pick his dad up from Chiswick to go to a family lunch in Blackheath. It was lovely, and his family really aren't any drama to be around at all, despite being of a stage-y bent for the main part, but still, tiring stuff. We then dropped Jonodad back in Chiswick and caught up with Sachin who I've not seen nearly enough of these last couple of years and left there feeling like we'd short-changed him a bit only being able to spend an hour or so with him before zooming off to Windsor for dinner with friends.

It was so good to watch the sun set over the fields and to help them with putting the dogs to bed at the kennels they run. Less clever was watching films a little worse for wear until about three in the morning on a sofa that meant being all twisty to look up at the wall where the film was being projected. Again, was wonderful and they're people we love, but felt like I hadn't really been able to be a scintillating guest because of falling asleep all through he films.

They have a wonderful house out in the countryside, set well away from everything except the kennels in the grounds. They have a house that's utterly filled with gadgets that they're terribly proud of, so I spent a very long time being confused by light switches that had fifteen settings and a remote control and a shower that had heads in strangely erotic places and a steam generator that I didn't realise was on and seared my shins.

Sunday was being woken by woofing, and not of the strange gay men's kind. "Oh, that Marshall, he's so woofy!" The drive back was one of those ones where you reckon the vehicle's as much powered by coffee as petrol. Was then too sleepy to cook dinner and then headed out to Horse Meat Disco which was great, but by that point, I was so shattered it would have meant saying yes to the drugs that friends were offering and writing off half the week ahead for the sake of catching up with the drunkards and the muntards in The Eagle. I kept on running into people from my disco-damaged past which was mostly nice, sometimes tinged with sadness and regret.

So, today, I'm all about being a bit more executive about time. I've had a cull of the blogs on my reading list 'cause getting home to over 1,500 posts just means I don't read anything at all. Next up is taking myself off the mailing lists for sign language interpreter agencies and discussion groups and booking myself in for comic book conventions so I can have a stall there with my little Pigeons and with Badger. I mean, if there's not going to be much art lecturing work over the summer, then I need to get a wriggle on with the comic book stuff.

A very lovely gentleman bought me some new pens so I can keep on with Badger's story, though. The kindness of strangers always astounds me, and I don't mean that as a euphemism for me paying the bills with my booty.

Do you have clever tactics for life laundry?

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