Black Doggerel

I keep thinking I should post to let everyone know I didn't die.

( Winter Thing )

( This tumult in the clouds )

( Earworm )

( Annoying girlparts )


( Meme )

...I don't want Blogathon to be over. Last year felt like a marathon; this year's almost went by too fast. I miss that crazed adrenaline rush. I miss the attention already. I feel so anticlimactic and emo now; I started having crying jags as soon as I finally went to bed yesterday, er, this afternoon.

*shakes self*

It'll pass. I just loved that feeling of being part of something bigger than myself. I want it back now plz.

I stole nyecamden's pie!

( here it is, cut for your comfort and convenience )

This week's Doctor Who: possibly the best episode in the entire universe, ever. Have also been rewatching Torchwood. I love it so.

In other news, and really included here only for my own reference so I don't keep on failing to expect it at the right time, it's Old Hormone Week at Black Dog HQ. I knew there had to be an explanation for trhe random crying jags last week.

Three things have made me cry this morning.

The first: I know (because I've had this conversation with a few of my geekier friends) that I'm not the only one who looks to fandom for parallels to life, love, "real" people and relationships, the universe and everything. I suppose it's reassuring to know it's not a form of mental illness - or at least that it's not a brand new one. Watching the last season of Babylon 5 the week before the anniversary of John's death brought a parallel to mind that I'd never thought of before, and also brings Neal's Marcus quote to mind:
"Wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair? And all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them. So now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe."
(Edited to add: Don't mistake that for me whining about the things that have happened to me. What you're seeing is my profound, eternal gratitude that I haven't had the fortune I deserve.)

The second: Mitch Benn's tribute to John Peel. Because I was another one who stayed up late recording new songs off the radio, and a good half of the music that keeps me going was music I'd have never heard if not for Peel.

The third: The realisation that I only get like this when I'm pre-menstrual, and will therefore probably be bleeding all weekend instead of getting shagged half to death at the naked sauna. Even my own reproductive system is against me.

Grrr. It's not 11am yet and between them Spike and the kittens have sent the water bowl flying twice. Arseholes.

I have an old manky towel that I keep expressly for sopping water off the floor - I just drop it on the puddle, leave to soak, then hang it on the radiator to dry (even switched off, the radiator's a good drying-spot). Cassie likes sleeping on it while it's lying wet on the floor. Cats are weird.

Spike's cat-stalking modus operandi is to single out one cat and tune out all the others. I've noticed that, although he'll do it to any of them, he prefers the two striped ones. Squish just barked at Cassie for playing in the laundry bag, which he's never had a problem with before. Dogs are weird.

And I'm bleeding. Normally I feel so bloaty and emo that I know it's coming, but this time, nothing - I didn't even break out in zits. Obviously all these fruits and vegetables are good for something. Maybe that was why I developed the sudden houseproudness and diet-consciousness? Hormones are weird.

Am now going back to catching up with the hogwarts_live backstory from before I started reading. Am up to October 2004 now. archivedubh is a great resource for silent lurkage but, annoyingly, its friendslist only goes back 100 entries, so getting the full backstory requires reading a pageload of concurrent tabs with the character journals. It's a marvellous way to keep amused while supervising dogs and cattens - much better than physical books or TV shows which need paper bookmarks and pause buttons every time I need to go sit on Spike for a moment, confiscate a cat toy from Squish, stop Elda from chewing the linoleum or pick a kitten off the top of something it's about to knock over. Such a joy!

ETA: Ratatouille. Garlic-infused aubergine is the food of the fucking Gods, but next time, fry the onions and garlic a bit first. Everything else is perfect but those are a bit too crunchy.

Also, peppers are a fucking awkward vegetable. Life's too short to skin the little bastards before adding them but the skins are a huge pain. Bah.

I'm seriously wondering if this heat is going to kill me.

can't eat, can't stop drinking, can't think straight, am soaking myself in cold water every few hours. it feels like the only thing keeping me alive.

mum is doing well at T's, Maisie is fine in London with E. I'm wondering if some of this isn't just the collapse now that the immediate responsibilities of having to rush round coping have been lifted.

however, I've been wondering for a while if there might be something wrong. I've always kept my liquid intake on the high side, but needing 5 litres a day is a bit excessive even for me. There's also been the raging thirst if I'm separated from something to drink for more than fifteen minutes, the faintiness if I don't eat in the morning, the incredible lassitude and foggy thinking - I never do well in the heat but this last week I've felt constantly hungover and I can't spend five minutes on the couch without falling asleep. None of this is normal for me even in the heat.

sister T phoned halfway through typing this entry and nagged till I made a doctor's appointment. the annoyance of getting there on foot/bus has put me off, there's no direct bus and I'm not up to walking far in this weather. however, I still have Mum's debit card (with permission) and Mum says I can get a taxi if I like.

doctor's appt, Friday 14th, 4.20pm. mustn't forget it.

forgive me if I don't comment much today. love you all. but my head's spinning and I'm going to go lie down.

*sigh*

just when things were looking good for the weekend, the body decides to piss me about. Urrrgh.


in other news, Mum is looking like she might be out of hospital this week. I was there when the doctor came to talk to her about her test results, so I got it straight from the horse's mouth - she has cirrhosis of the liver, which wasn't news, but at least there wasn't anything else wrong - cancer runs in our family, and they had to rule that out.

Th doctor also told her that they lose about 50% of the patients that come in as bad as she was, but that if she sticks to not drinking she'll be fine. I'm very glad the organ she chose to sabotage is the one with all the built-in redundancies and regenerative capabilities.

She's still very weak (she'd almost starved herself to death as well, because the huge swelling and liquid retention round the liver made it hard for her to keep anything down) but she's going to be all right.

it's insanely hot still, and very uncomfortable. Mum phoned this morning to give me the day off from visiting, bless her heart. So very not fun tooling around on buses in this. Last night I was mean and shut Cassie in the bedroom overnight just so I could open the damn windows - it's almost worse at night, when the building gives up all the heat that's soaked into it during the day. She didn't actually object; she tends to stay in the wardrobe once she's had her late-night feed anyway.

james_the_evil1 gave me a good idea for improvising catproof window screens, though - the easiest way to rig those will be to duct-tape heavyish plastic mesh over the windows. Hopefully be able to put that into operation over the weekend.

My favourite seasonal flowers have arrived, all down Woodbury Avenue.

( Elderflowers (Sambucus nigra, picture Googled) )

I love them for every reason you can think of. They bloom at a time of year I like, when spring is still fresh and wet and green and the year hasn't had time to get hot, stale and sticky. They're beautiful and delicate and tiny and enchanting, they have a gorgeous and controversial scent that many people hate and compare to cat's pee, and they grow in extravagant abundance on a dirt-common shrub that roots happily in walls, alleys, hedgerows, farmland and woodland. They're also edible and delicious. This year I may even get off my arse and remember to make elderflower cordial.

in other news: PMS sucks donkey balls. I could live with it quite happily if it just made me angry and cranky, but it never does. It turns me into a soggy spitball of self-pity. Do you know how hard it is to type anything that makes sense when a good half of my brain is wailing "nobody luvs me yr all meeen no one ever comments waaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!" ?

For fuck's sake. CHEER UP EMO GIRL PARTS.

fucking hell.

spent today farting about on buses, going to topbit's ex-flat to wait for the men picking up the washing machine, cooker and fridge and then on to the council office.

simple enough in itself - the fuck-about factor came in the form of 1. hormonal cramps and nausea a week earlier than expected, 2. PISSING cold rain and biting wind and 3. for some reason I couldn't get to sleep last night till 5am, and although I'd set my alarm for 9.30am I popped irrevocably awake at eight. So I was already walking dead when I started, and by the time I finally got home I was walking dead chilled drowned rat.

fortunately, I seem to have got over being miserable that he's not living in my town any more, although I can't say I prefer him being two hours away.

Was amused on the way home at Spike in the most extreme blatant attention-whore mode I've ever seen. He'd fix on a random passer-by, give them The Eye until they were compelled to glance his way and then go into full-on OMG BESTEST FRIEND EVER WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE!!! mode at them. I swear, he could get an ear rub out of a statue. He even pulled it on a woman in a car while we were crossing at the traffic lights, and he had her exchanging grins and mouthing sweet nothings at him for a good thirty yards. I love that dog.