I shaved my legs. Felt like it. I re-dyed my hair the other day which necessitated an extra shower. Usually I just have one in the morning, and cannot be bothered shaving then – if I even remember! But I was primping, and I felt like it, so I did. I think when I re-dye my hair is about the right length of time, actually, between shaves. And I also think that that is hopefully the last the internet will hear about my body hair! No promises, though… Thanks for sharing your own experiences, it was really interesting to hear about other people’s ‘normality’.
These photos are from a walk from my work into town. I’ve done it a few times, and it’s a lovely way to end the day. I have to catch a bus in to town and back out again. Which is fine if I catch the first bus, but if I miss it (and it’s usually early, so I usually do) I spend 15 minutes waiting at work, and then miss my connection in town and so spend another 15 waiting there. Walking takes me about an hour (I dawdle) and I find I don’t get home much later at all. Plus, I am feeling very slothlike at the moment. Not much movement going on, and I feel lumpy and ungainly. I know this is a recurrent theme – I don’t blog about it when I’m active and enjoying it! Just when I’m lazy and lumpy. I’ve been getting more migraines too, which I think is mostly because I need new glasses badly, but also because of my inactivity.
Anyway, it’s a nice walk form work to town. Through old suburbs, but not posh ones. So lots of old cottages and semi-detached houses, and rambling gardens. I wish I could photograph the serenity and overall sense of life humming along that exists along those back streets.
I had two 21sts on the weekend. One was in North Adelaide, and I walked with friends from the pub to my bus, a couple of blocks away. The houses. Were MENTAL. There were libraries and grand pianoes and crazy columns. I mean, obviously I knew some people lived like that. But in Adelaide? I don’t know why there shouldn’t be showy rich people in Adelaide. It just seemed so alien and weird and… unreal. I had to wonder about the people who live in those houses. What are their lives like? Do they pick up their own underwear? Who cleans the toilet and picks up discarded magazines from the floors?
The other 21st was my cousin’s – the one whose mother just died. I knit her two shawls. We had it at my childless Aunt and Uncles. Their house is luxurious in a less crazy way (although, the BATHROOM!). Uncle D was heard to worry about his white carpet with the crazy kids. He needn’t have worried. The only damage to the carpet was my wretched aunt. She got SLAUGHTERED and trod chocolate cake into the carpet, as well as having the same conversation with me about six times. The party was nautical themed. S wen’t as a pirate, and was generally very well recieved by those members of the family who hadn’t met him. I also went for a swim – it was down near the beach where I used to live. It was absolutely freezing, and it was glorious. My mother came as a porthole and was a general downer.
I had a run in with a workmate about Fat Acceptance. She commented on something over at Fat Lot of Good, and then we had a ‘discussion’ about it. It was all very polite – although we both got quite red faced about it. Thank goodness we are white and repressed and can pretend to be nice to each other! Anyway, I was proud of myself for actually having the discussion, but it also left a sour taste in my mouth. She pulled many of the classic cards – costing the health system, for example. I just didn’t know how to argue well if we disagreed with two main points: 1) fat is not the same as unhealthy; unhealthy people are not all fat; all fat people are not unhealthy; you can be healthy and fat and 2) other people’s health and decisions are NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS. I am trying to remember, because I know that not that long ago I hadn’t processed the thought that it was ok to choose to be fat. I can’t remember what that feels like.
I know better, but I still get surprised when my real life world is not as nice and caring as my internet world. It sounds funny to say so, considering what most of the internet is like. But my corner of the internet is lovely. It has all of you in it! And we share stories and are polite and generally validate each other and are nice, even if we don’t understand each other’s take on things. And the places I go regularly, like Tiger Beatdown and Kate Harding’s site (Shapely Prose, you are missed) are generally accepting, even when they are angry. I spent last Friday afternoon watching ‘it gets better’ videos (I recommend the Dan Savage and Tim Gunn ones), and found Ivan E. Coyote and devoured her videos. What a fantastic storyteller! What a lovely world, where people are people, just themselves, whatever that looks like. And then I went out into the real world, where people were making gay jokes and generally being dickheads. It was a rude shock, I tell you! No wonder I am an introvert.
However! Craft camp is this weekend! I need a holiday, some sleepins and some days spent luxuriously making things in company of my Tribe. I am looking forward to everything about it, but when I think about the people… well. I am excited, that is all. I can’t wait to see my crafty friends. Christmas was never this exciting, I swear!