Personal Blogs

I have never voted for anything in this way in my life.  Until last night.  When I was compelled to vote for Moldova.  I'm not sure whether it was the beer phoning, or me.  Either way, they got my vote.  It wasn't dissimilar to my all-encompassing love of clowns last week.  Their hats had the same effect.  Luckily I didn't go online afterwards, or no doubt I'd have some ridiculous wizard costume to go with my clown outfit.  I'd better hope for a fancy dress party soon in order that I can be excused my insanity.

It was strange when I called the number to have a recording of Graham Norton greet me.  I temporarily felt as though I was actually chatting to him on the phone.  It felt a little cool, I must say. 

As is traditional, we had our little Eurovision get-together last night.  Snacks and cats.  Beers and tears.   

Just before the Eurovision song contest, and just before people were due to arrive, a friend called me to let me know that a mutual friend had died.  A few minutes later another friend called me to say the same thing.  Neither of them could speak properly, and their voices were full of tears.  If that's possible.  I'm finding it strange to think of her being dead.  I don't think I quite believe it really.  In many ways I am pleased for her as she was horribly ill, and it must have been a relief.  I remember the phone call to say she was ill, a few years ago.  I was in Glasgow and just about to go and watch Bela Fleck.  I haven't reacted to the news yet, so I'm guessing my reaction will be pretty bad.  That's usually how it works.  When I was told she was ill I was also told she wouldn't see the year out.  I didn't cry because we were in a restaurant, but I had tears in my eyes.  I remember that I had just given up smoking and was tempted to start again to curb my emotions.  But I didn't because it seemed to be tempting fate, given the news.  I never did really react, but over the next six months, as I watched her start to die, I lost about 3 stone, leaving me skeletal.  Then I spent a year in recovery.  And eventually I was back into a weight that the doctors considered safe.  I wish I could just mourn like other people, and cry, and seek comfort from others.  But I'm just not made that way. 

Anyway, study waits for no man.  In keeping with my standard reactions to study incapabilities, I went out yesterday and bought myself some stationary.  This time, instead of my usual post-it notes and coloured pens, I bought an A1 note book and some tippex.  There's no reason behind this sort of purchase, it just happens.  Also weirdly there is a chocolate counter at the Staples tills, and I was tempted to buy a milky way, but I didn't.  I have drawn a giant picture of an ear on one of the giant sheets of paper.  Today I'm going to learn a little about hearing.