So this is Christmas....

Christmas - where people appreciate your food (or at least your effort). Where they appreciate your attempt at gifts. Where they know you and give you things you might have a chance of liking or else they admit defeat and give you a voucher. Where there's conversation that everyone enjoys. Where people are considerate of each other. Where there are no spoilt children who just want the presents, the lollies and then to get away as soon as possible. Where the fun is decorating the tree, waiting in anticipation and awe and enjoying the ritual. Where the variety of food and drink intrigues and you all embrace the concept of a special feast. Right?

Life: It's not all crap, but, yes, some of it is....

Let's just admit that life's not perfect. I'm not perfect. Some people don't like me. Even some people who do like me don't find me a comfortable person or even seem to want to have much to do with me. But, if they did contact me I'd be all shaking in my boots from humanity proximity anyway. I think I might be better off doing some art.

Time enough for self/art

I have done awful things to preserve my freedom/time to myself/art time. Not visiting my mother enough when she was dying of cancer; not moving back to the parental home then, because my father would have made it impossible for me to leave. Even at twenty I knew instinctively what was most likely to happen and how to best avoid it. So, not for love….

What about money? Will I give up the time I have to myself now, that is sometimes used to make or learn art, or write or just think about things other than ‘work’ - time that doesn’t involve sharing with another human being. Time where I can do mostly, (work has been eating at this time a lot in the last few years), what I want. The bit of my life where I am ‘me’? Will I give that up for money, to be like and possibly more accepted by other human beings? To spend more of my life pretending?

My life is probably half over. I too may die of cancer before my time, and even if I never create that masterpiece or write that prize-winner, then I think I have to at least be able to say, in the words of the dead but immortal Frank, I did it my way.

today's list

Favourite things of the week:

- rediscovering textiles - doing and thinking
- going out with friends
- my sister ringing up to share websurfing and ebaying
- developing an arrangement with my hate-work attitude/remembering the real world
- remembering that no matter how strange I am (or other people are), life is worth it
- had some great dreams this week - vivid. Full of alien landings and evil world governments, but great.


Least favourite things of the week:

- rediscovering you can buy textile things on ebay at a bad financial time
- the feeling after going out with friends that I did everything wrong and totally embarrassed myself
- drinking too much in one session
- no exercise and a bad attitude to health
- didn't go get the loom at the local shop and purchased a completely different type on ebay that I'm not sure I will use much
- the rain that just wets the surface of the ground, but makes it cool and unpleasant to go out
- going to the cupboard to get dressed to go out and realising that the clothes situation is quite desperate since I haven't gone hard-copy-shopping for a long, long time.
- not happy with either of the bags I purchased on ebay, absolute bargains that they were. I like my old bag.

Not sure what to think - scary or stupid?

I was just walking home from getting my new glasses. It's raining lightly and I have my umbrella up (yes, I even do that when its raining). Some guy in a slightly sporty, red ford or holden thing of a car stops on the road I am crossing and says,

"You alright or do you want a lift". For all the world like he knows me.

I frown and say no. My look says it all. He replies something like - just trying to be nice/helpful - and drives off.

I shake my head and wonder if I should contact the police or was he just some idiot.

Is he one of my neighbours? Did he think I was an old lady who needed a lift home? Did he think I was young enough to be interested in - legally or illegally? Did he think I was stupid? Did he have a brain? I mean, it's nice to be nice, but surely you know that anyone you offer a lift to is going to be suspicious and a little bit of rain doesn't actually hurt a human being.... Logically the nice things just doesn't gel. Logic says only predators do these things.... Desperate to meet women? Going to continue to be if so, whatever his reasons - he's a crazy.

I keep thinking I must have made a mistake and known him somehow.

I looked at police websites but there isn't anywhere to report suspicious behavior by email. Hopefully he's not some nasty rapist type. Just in case:

He was wearing some sort of hideous yellow t-shirt - possibly yellow and black. Like some sort of work shirt. He was a bit jowly - like he's carrying a bit of weight, but he didn't look 'fat'. Clean shaven and fairly fresh-faced. Age - hmm - 30s? Brown hair. Ordinary bloke - mechanic type. Car had spoilers, but I didn't notice the wheels (I'm a disappointment to my family).

Nano-babblishliciousness

Zombiedar – a word, of recent acquaintance, from New Scientist in a lexicography article; a nonce-word. I had no idea there was a term for them. Thing is, I can see myself using this one at some time, (and I also imagine it as a zombie-finding-zombie website – apologies to Gaydar).

Celebuwhatever – I probably won’t use. Not a fan of the ever-disrespectful ‘whatever’, but I understand the frustration that might cause it to be coined. Frustration that should rightly be vented against media magnates. Now there’s a term I wish we didn’t have.

article I read was about these two sites:

Urban Dictionary

Wordlustitude by Mark Peters

scraps - not for Eric

I went to wrap some scraps in old newspaper this morning. I paused. I went to do it again. I paused. Ok, I can't wrap scraps in Eric Bana. I just can't.