saintadatha

If I promise to ease off on the polysyllabic verbal diorhea, will that make you more likely to finish? Thought so.

I had to work on Sunday, so I agreed to see my ma today for a kind of belated Mothering Sunday-on-Tuesday type affair. She cancelled, and when I spoke to her on the phone just now, she sounded really low. Things are quite overwhelming in her life right now. Perhaps, with more trust and time, I'll fill you in on the whys and wherefores. That I'm saying this, though, surprises me... Onwards.

So, it turns out, (returning to the maternal train of thought) it's a good thing that, whilst I may tend towards the late and slow (pendulous and stubborn), I may on accasion tend also to the completing. Even though she cancelled I bought:
some flowers (cute, elegant Japanese cherry blossom from the overpriced gent by Camden station),
a lovely card containing a cheque for the money I owe her (it was for the deposit on the flat I moved into - which I've been saving to repay... mission complete!),
a copy of Why I Write, a selection of essays by Orwell,
AND I made a pretty-damn-good-for-first-attempt rhubarb, pear and apple crumble... though I am the first to admit that the rhubarb was fractionally overcooked, and I let the sugar on the top over-caremalize.

I'm going to pop over to hers now, see what's up, give her gifts and hugs and love... see if she wants to talk... and then meander back here for some reading and my last spliff.

(note to self: stuff from college rapes your brain... and it feels like I'm not exaggerating; strongest mother-fucking hydro-fuck-knows-what I've smoked in ages. But I'm low on options. Keep up the brain-buggery then? Probably. Gads am I weak...)

Favourite tune of the moment: 'Love Will Tear Us Apart' by Bis (a severely cool electro cover). And I'm becoming an electo-boy too? Won't by hip-hop and my rock crews now gang up and kick my arse?!

I went to capoeira last night for the first time in almost three months. My wrist still feels weak, after I broke it before Christmas, but on the whole I was surprised by how not completely shit I was! But, shit, do I hurt. My back, my sides, my arms, my forearms, me neck (my neck!), my stomach, and my thighs... my poor, poor thighs: I feel like I've been crushing a bowl full of wallnuts with a thigh-master... And my butt feels like I've been deep-tissue massaged... with knitting-needles.
I have been singing capoeira tunes (yes, it is a cult) all day. God I love it. I feel so much more relaxed (if tired), and happy, and.. and... glowing. (Can we spell surrogate coitus?)

Off to mater.
Love to the masses.
Have a wish on me.

And I'm going to buy myself a little bluetooth dongle (what a fantabulous term) for my ibook next week. And you know what that means?

Photos!
Yay!

Word y'all. Peace out. (Chokes on piece of crumble...)

- ads
x