25 April - Bank & Holidays
Why can't all weeks be 3 day weeks? Why do I have to work 5 days a week, though am lucky it's not 6 or am sure there are also people who work 7 days a week. Why does the prospect of having to work for another 15 or 20 years be the single most depressing thought I have every day (am sure it leads to cancer, somewhere in the body there is the one formed years ago when I used to think 'why will I have to work the next 30 or 40 years, where is my mystery inheritance or good fortune winding its way to me...?'
The only good fortune was the initially resisted and then accepted, decision not to fly anywhere this break. As emails and texts from friend under the rain in Spain/France/Italy/Majorca /Ibiza and so on arrive, I feel, well, sorry for them but super toasty. I only went to Whitstable and there's not a could in the sky in my photos. Thanks to H, T, and J a great little break was had by all, they stayed longer in H's perfectly appointed beach house.
The wine was seized upon, the lamb wasn't great (do not cook huge leg of lamb on a barbecue, all the juices run off it and you're left with dry meat, not that I ate it, my bbq fish was fab) and the men were far too urbane to be annoying. Their talk included comparing sunglasses and architectural styles. Though T and J also discussed football but briefly. T was happy just left alone to his Guardian. So I was happy left alone with bits of it too. I couldn't help but notice the gender division. No man made a move to ever clear up anything off a table or wipe it or wash. The 3 of them just seemed to take any crockery on the shelves until it was all used. Normally I would not have intervened but I was a guest and so wanted to help H (who was also running washing machine and hanging sheets and towels, though grateful I cam down with own pillows and towels, why make someone go to all that trouble for a night or two if you're coming by car? I slept like a log, would have happily stayed a week, maybe next time.
I was however thwarted in my wish to go check the new Turner just opened at Margate by Toph and T. who hate Tracey Emin with a vengeance, though not as much as the Chapman Bros hate her poor woman. J. had gone and thought the building had far too much indoor light for a gallery but I applaud the construction. Maybe next time for this too.
I also completed part of a diplomatic mission to perhaps effect the reapprochement of H and my good friend L. H. drifted off a while back without really giving L an explanation, she says we don't have that much in common. That is surely true and took a year for her to really notice and feel imposed upon (one very sensitive soul and constantly dwelling on the same same themes in her life/drama, the other a let's not dwell on the negative, very well educated and booky woman). H just found it tiring to listen /offer advice that is not taken, but I pointed out that they do have things in common, same age for example, though not background, it's just the style of communication that is so different and why ditch love and support over that? I suggested she tries my approach with L which was very blunt and went along the lines of 'am happy to listen to you droning on about your issues but am afraid that after an hour I don't give a shit about anyone's problems, (borderline asperger on the empathety scales me) so let's do this more like a therapist session, I give you an hour and after that the clock says stop and we chat about lightweight stuff or...I simply go home or you go home'. She went quiet on me for a couple of days and then resurfaced. Really you have to accept criticism or lose the entire relationship over some wounded pride. Not recommended among grown ups.
H thought this was brilliant but she's too true Brit to be able to bring herself to do it. But I also told her a bit about L's background who has grown up surrounded by foster brothers and sisters who her parents were looking after. So I said imagine the need for expression and 'me, let's talk about me' that L had when she had to be heard amongst many, and the fact that it's a bit too negative... well count yourself lucky you're not marrying into a jewish family for example. The real ones, endlessly parodied by themselves first. They just like to go on. Bit like am doing now, though the rest of the time am more sage on the mountain in a cave ie. keep away from me.
Toph and I returned and after a minor altercation due to a restaurant table that he was too slow in securing by NOT following my advice, I found myself going to see the Pina Bausch film by Wim Wenders w/o him. Though had Angolan queen friend and R. with me. He missed out. Film was wonderful. Very well paced, brimming wiht great settings for the pieces and moving in the dancers' testimony about Pina. Who they all loved (well, would they say otherwise on camera? Don't think so, but then why would they have stayed with her all this time?). At times it was panful watching but such a triumph to see older men and women dancing as if they were their 20 year old selves and dancing childlike or dejected and lost like. Brilliant. Go find this movie. There will be a dance just for you in it. Just speaking to you.
The only good fortune was the initially resisted and then accepted, decision not to fly anywhere this break. As emails and texts from friend under the rain in Spain/France/Italy/Majorca /Ibiza and so on arrive, I feel, well, sorry for them but super toasty. I only went to Whitstable and there's not a could in the sky in my photos. Thanks to H, T, and J a great little break was had by all, they stayed longer in H's perfectly appointed beach house.
The wine was seized upon, the lamb wasn't great (do not cook huge leg of lamb on a barbecue, all the juices run off it and you're left with dry meat, not that I ate it, my bbq fish was fab) and the men were far too urbane to be annoying. Their talk included comparing sunglasses and architectural styles. Though T and J also discussed football but briefly. T was happy just left alone to his Guardian. So I was happy left alone with bits of it too. I couldn't help but notice the gender division. No man made a move to ever clear up anything off a table or wipe it or wash. The 3 of them just seemed to take any crockery on the shelves until it was all used. Normally I would not have intervened but I was a guest and so wanted to help H (who was also running washing machine and hanging sheets and towels, though grateful I cam down with own pillows and towels, why make someone go to all that trouble for a night or two if you're coming by car? I slept like a log, would have happily stayed a week, maybe next time.
I was however thwarted in my wish to go check the new Turner just opened at Margate by Toph and T. who hate Tracey Emin with a vengeance, though not as much as the Chapman Bros hate her poor woman. J. had gone and thought the building had far too much indoor light for a gallery but I applaud the construction. Maybe next time for this too.
I also completed part of a diplomatic mission to perhaps effect the reapprochement of H and my good friend L. H. drifted off a while back without really giving L an explanation, she says we don't have that much in common. That is surely true and took a year for her to really notice and feel imposed upon (one very sensitive soul and constantly dwelling on the same same themes in her life/drama, the other a let's not dwell on the negative, very well educated and booky woman). H just found it tiring to listen /offer advice that is not taken, but I pointed out that they do have things in common, same age for example, though not background, it's just the style of communication that is so different and why ditch love and support over that? I suggested she tries my approach with L which was very blunt and went along the lines of 'am happy to listen to you droning on about your issues but am afraid that after an hour I don't give a shit about anyone's problems, (borderline asperger on the empathety scales me) so let's do this more like a therapist session, I give you an hour and after that the clock says stop and we chat about lightweight stuff or...I simply go home or you go home'. She went quiet on me for a couple of days and then resurfaced. Really you have to accept criticism or lose the entire relationship over some wounded pride. Not recommended among grown ups.
H thought this was brilliant but she's too true Brit to be able to bring herself to do it. But I also told her a bit about L's background who has grown up surrounded by foster brothers and sisters who her parents were looking after. So I said imagine the need for expression and 'me, let's talk about me' that L had when she had to be heard amongst many, and the fact that it's a bit too negative... well count yourself lucky you're not marrying into a jewish family for example. The real ones, endlessly parodied by themselves first. They just like to go on. Bit like am doing now, though the rest of the time am more sage on the mountain in a cave ie. keep away from me.
Toph and I returned and after a minor altercation due to a restaurant table that he was too slow in securing by NOT following my advice, I found myself going to see the Pina Bausch film by Wim Wenders w/o him. Though had Angolan queen friend and R. with me. He missed out. Film was wonderful. Very well paced, brimming wiht great settings for the pieces and moving in the dancers' testimony about Pina. Who they all loved (well, would they say otherwise on camera? Don't think so, but then why would they have stayed with her all this time?). At times it was panful watching but such a triumph to see older men and women dancing as if they were their 20 year old selves and dancing childlike or dejected and lost like. Brilliant. Go find this movie. There will be a dance just for you in it. Just speaking to you.
posted by Lisa Taylor @ 8:37 AM
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