1) Get all the people out of your house
2) Make coffee
3) Clean bath after the last person who used the bath
4) Run bath
5) Get in bath
6) Realise you left something on the other side of the bathroom, stand, place one foot out of the bath, reach across and get forgotten article
7) Lift foot back into bath, slip, fall, bumping head, arm and leg on the way down, whilst gracefully kicking over your coffee, half into the bath, half across the rest of the bathroom
8) Pause for a moment
9) Get out of bath, clear up bathroom, empty bath, rewash bath, go downstairs, make more coffee, go back upstairs, rerun bath, get in bath
10) Contemplate pain in arm
11) Drink coffee
12) Contemplate the beached whale of stretch marks lying in the water before you
13) Realise water has gone cold
14) Get out, refreshed and rejuvenated!
Saturday, 18 January 2014
Friday, 27 December 2013
Slippers are preferable to bears.
Last night, Kittencat came into my bed at something o'clock in the morning. I ducked to the loo briefly, and gave her a bear to cuddle while I was gone. She was content and cuddling the bear, and when I came back, she said, "You can have your slipper back now". On learning it was a bear, and not in fact a slipper, Kittencat became distraught, and I got quite a stern telling off about the whole affair. Kittencat is quite strict about bears.
Thursday, 26 December 2013
"It's okay" "It's not! Don't say that!"
Kittencat has been having a lovely Christmas, albeit an exhausting one. Christmas is a time that's as hard on children as it is fun for them, it's so exciting, and there is so much going on. Somehow they are expected to keep their heads, and be little paragons of virtue, and not complain when they are dragged from shop to shop, mealtimes and bedtimes forgotten in the parental rush of buying everything, ready for the apocalypse that is Christmas day, the terrifying prospect that the shops are shut for one whole day.
It's not really how we roll here at Cat Lady Towers, minimal shopping has been done, little at a time, within the bounds of our usual routines of meal times and bedtimes and all of that. Nonetheless, some disruption occurs, family visits inevitably result in altered ways of being, differing mealtimes, late nights. Kittencat seems to be a little like her mother, in that additional excitement or stress takes its toll on her immune system and consequently over the last few days she's been tearful, running a temperature, clingy as hell and wanting to sleep well over 14 hours a night.
She's also extremely negative. I swear I got the paternity of my daughter wrong, and somehow inadvertently spawned a child with Marvin the Paranoid Android. Earlier today she sat, crying, on my knee. I told her "It's okay" to which she replied "It's not! Don't say that! It's not okay!"
At another point in the day, I told her she was beautiful, prompting her to burst into tears and respond "Don't say that! I'm not! No one is!" I can't stress enough that this is moderately disconcerting, but indicative of her current state of exhaustion and below satisfactory health - ordinarily my modest little Kittencat would respond to being told she was beautiful by saying "Yes. I am."
Christmas is stressful for three year olds.
It's not really how we roll here at Cat Lady Towers, minimal shopping has been done, little at a time, within the bounds of our usual routines of meal times and bedtimes and all of that. Nonetheless, some disruption occurs, family visits inevitably result in altered ways of being, differing mealtimes, late nights. Kittencat seems to be a little like her mother, in that additional excitement or stress takes its toll on her immune system and consequently over the last few days she's been tearful, running a temperature, clingy as hell and wanting to sleep well over 14 hours a night.
She's also extremely negative. I swear I got the paternity of my daughter wrong, and somehow inadvertently spawned a child with Marvin the Paranoid Android. Earlier today she sat, crying, on my knee. I told her "It's okay" to which she replied "It's not! Don't say that! It's not okay!"
At another point in the day, I told her she was beautiful, prompting her to burst into tears and respond "Don't say that! I'm not! No one is!" I can't stress enough that this is moderately disconcerting, but indicative of her current state of exhaustion and below satisfactory health - ordinarily my modest little Kittencat would respond to being told she was beautiful by saying "Yes. I am."
Christmas is stressful for three year olds.
Monday, 16 December 2013
Seasons beginning with C
Car insurance season falls shortly after Christmas! Oh no! There are exciting things to do in January, and they are most unlikely to occur. Oh no!
Probably, this is good. Probably. I have films to watch, sewing to sew, knitting to knit, course work in at the start of February... Yep. It all balances. The universe has it's plan, and it's all good.
Probably, this is good. Probably. I have films to watch, sewing to sew, knitting to knit, course work in at the start of February... Yep. It all balances. The universe has it's plan, and it's all good.
Friday, 13 December 2013
It's Friday night! Lets...
...put on a dressing gown, watch Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., knit, sleep.
Actually, this doesn't sound too far short of my plan for the entire weekend.
Actually, this doesn't sound too far short of my plan for the entire weekend.
I need so much coffee
So much coffee right now. There isn't actually enough coffee in the world to satiate this need.
Thursday, 12 December 2013
So now, following that massive overshare, dear diary...
I am going to sew tinsel onto my Kittencat's star costume. Tomorrow, Kittencat is going to be a STAR. At nursery they are doing some kind of nativity thing called Whoopsadaisy Angel, and she's so excited, she's been singing the songs for weeks, and telling us about her performance.
I love this child so much.
I love this child so much.
Sometimes a mental health incident can be a good thing
During October, and just about into November my ADD was going off the chart, and impacting my social behaviour. I attempted to apologise to anyone and everyone I felt may have been affected by it. So far as I'm aware, largely everyone was fine. One person however, was not. They started acting as though I wasn't there at all, and, when I attempted to find out what was going on, ignored all methods of communication. Now for someone prone to anxiety based depression, and getting over an ADD incident, this is cruel treatment, because it adds a lot of anxiety to their life. Not knowing if you've done something, or what it is, is a huge headfuck.
I eventually found out what I'd done. Apparently some people overheard part of a conversation I was having, judged me based on overheard part ramblings without context and found me wanting. Fair enough, I could have been more considerate of my surroundings, but anyone who has known me that long could really have checked with me whether what had been reported was what had been said, rather than judging me on third hand information representing out of character attitudes and behaviour. The second, again, I get. In perceiving an atmosphere, and being unaware of the former transgression but very aware of a transgression my friend made in October, I tried to talk about it, drunkenly, like a bull in a china shop. Not really cool. And I called out a couple of ridiculous incidents that I really ought to have just ignored. But, the ADD headmess does not allow you to regulate or always be aware of your behaviour in the way you'd like.
Not everyone can cope with me on an ADD spiral, and that, I completely understand. But when in attempting to apologise, you're told you're overthinking matters, you tend to think that everything is cool. After all, when things aren't, people tell you, right? And all that said, I picked up my issues quickly, I dealt with them, and went to the doctors and on failing to get any help other than a shrug and a "you could always go private", I implemented some strategies, managed my behaviour, and became a normal(ish) person again. (That aside, I do think that when someone ignores you entirely every time you see them for a month, without telling you why, and walks past you 4 times in quick succession at a gig blanking you completely, to the point where they will avoid speaking to friends if you're there, personally I feel this does entitle you to call their behaviour cuntish... Again, this is something that retrospectively I really ought to have just ignored.)
Incidentally, I feel I should mention that generally I manage the more socially awkward elements of this quite well, mostly. The last time I had a major ADD incident prior to this was in 2007-8, after a boy I worked with exposed himself, and I had a major anxiety reaction to this, heightened by the fact that, due to the structure and make up of the company, I was unable to make a formal complaint. When I made unofficial mention of it to the Director in charge of placements, he laughed, though in fairness he did also move the offending article of colleague to a different project and site. But the lack of being able to admit what happened meant that for a long time I was unable to really deal with it also. I failed to function well at work because I couldn't get the incident out of my head, outside of work I spent a horrific amount of time drunk to oblivion. Chances are people who knew me around then will remember a certain amount of the self destruct about my behaviour. Or at least a certain amount of idiocy.
But I told you I'd found out what I'd done. Aside from these incidents, there was a vitriolic assassination of my character, my mannerisms and and general demeanour. There was comment that going to speak to the people you know at gigs is not okay, that being giddy and having fun and asking people you know if they want to come dance is not okay, that being in the same venue and occasionally finding yourself near someone else amounts to following them around. Behaviour, conceded to be how I am with everyone, was nonetheless taken personally and found to be embarrassing and offensive. And this is why sometimes having a mental health incident is a good thing. I know lovely people. Kind, compassionate, warm and understanding people. People who don't judge out of hand, who will ask you your side. People open and honest enough that if they ever find you going awry, they let you know. I am lucky in my friends. Some people are not meant to be my friend. And that's okay. I don't like everyone, I don't expect everyone to like me. But it is good to know where you stand. My world is peaceful again, and all is well.
I eventually found out what I'd done. Apparently some people overheard part of a conversation I was having, judged me based on overheard part ramblings without context and found me wanting. Fair enough, I could have been more considerate of my surroundings, but anyone who has known me that long could really have checked with me whether what had been reported was what had been said, rather than judging me on third hand information representing out of character attitudes and behaviour. The second, again, I get. In perceiving an atmosphere, and being unaware of the former transgression but very aware of a transgression my friend made in October, I tried to talk about it, drunkenly, like a bull in a china shop. Not really cool. And I called out a couple of ridiculous incidents that I really ought to have just ignored. But, the ADD headmess does not allow you to regulate or always be aware of your behaviour in the way you'd like.
Not everyone can cope with me on an ADD spiral, and that, I completely understand. But when in attempting to apologise, you're told you're overthinking matters, you tend to think that everything is cool. After all, when things aren't, people tell you, right? And all that said, I picked up my issues quickly, I dealt with them, and went to the doctors and on failing to get any help other than a shrug and a "you could always go private", I implemented some strategies, managed my behaviour, and became a normal(ish) person again. (That aside, I do think that when someone ignores you entirely every time you see them for a month, without telling you why, and walks past you 4 times in quick succession at a gig blanking you completely, to the point where they will avoid speaking to friends if you're there, personally I feel this does entitle you to call their behaviour cuntish... Again, this is something that retrospectively I really ought to have just ignored.)
Incidentally, I feel I should mention that generally I manage the more socially awkward elements of this quite well, mostly. The last time I had a major ADD incident prior to this was in 2007-8, after a boy I worked with exposed himself, and I had a major anxiety reaction to this, heightened by the fact that, due to the structure and make up of the company, I was unable to make a formal complaint. When I made unofficial mention of it to the Director in charge of placements, he laughed, though in fairness he did also move the offending article of colleague to a different project and site. But the lack of being able to admit what happened meant that for a long time I was unable to really deal with it also. I failed to function well at work because I couldn't get the incident out of my head, outside of work I spent a horrific amount of time drunk to oblivion. Chances are people who knew me around then will remember a certain amount of the self destruct about my behaviour. Or at least a certain amount of idiocy.
But I told you I'd found out what I'd done. Aside from these incidents, there was a vitriolic assassination of my character, my mannerisms and and general demeanour. There was comment that going to speak to the people you know at gigs is not okay, that being giddy and having fun and asking people you know if they want to come dance is not okay, that being in the same venue and occasionally finding yourself near someone else amounts to following them around. Behaviour, conceded to be how I am with everyone, was nonetheless taken personally and found to be embarrassing and offensive. And this is why sometimes having a mental health incident is a good thing. I know lovely people. Kind, compassionate, warm and understanding people. People who don't judge out of hand, who will ask you your side. People open and honest enough that if they ever find you going awry, they let you know. I am lucky in my friends. Some people are not meant to be my friend. And that's okay. I don't like everyone, I don't expect everyone to like me. But it is good to know where you stand. My world is peaceful again, and all is well.
Sunday, 24 November 2013
Where did November go?
My gosh, time is going quickly these days. So what happened to November? In brief...
Friday 1st November, I finally saw Warm Widow play, though I'm not entirely sure that the highlight of this wasn't steadily getting drunker whilst watching Martin engaging in some last minute song writing to be performed immediately after... No, they were amazing, as I knew they would be. I like it immensely when people you like have bands you love, mostly because I've never enjoyed obligation gigs. Not that there would be any obligation here, but it's be able to say honestly that you're there strictly for the music regardless of any friendships/acquaintance or whatever. That night was in some ways a great night, in others not so much, I talked to lots of people, but I was on self destruct that night, and at best I spoke inappropriately to people about topics that don't really matter, and at worst, I behaved in ways that made me not like myself very much - I've not been there for a long time, and thankfully I noticed it quickly, because it's not a way I like to be.
6th November was Enablers at Kraak, with Locean, Monster Island and Michael O'Neill supporting. Slightly unusually perhaps, Michael O'Neill was supporting after Enablers, but regardless of any other logistical reasons, and despite how good Enablers are, nothing could have followed his set - it was fucking awesome. He's listed on the line up for the next Gesamtkunstwerk, which sadly I can't go to, but if you can you should. It's going to be incredible.
Friday 8th was Gesamtkunstwerk, and it was a great night. I'm getting to know quite a lot of folks there, and lots of musical types were out in force; Danny Saul, Michael from Wode, Thomas Long from Easter, Michael O'Neill, Neil from Gnod/2 Koi Karp and others - all, as ever, lovely to chat to. Dancing with Lee and Amy and a bunch of folks, it's an amazing night regardless of the line up, but the line up was exceptional too - Shaped Noise, Gnod and Machine Woman. Fucking A.
Carcass at the Academy (13th November) was a bit of a disappointment - they were brilliant, but the sound system was arse. Still, having never seen them, I'm glad I did, still one hell of a show. Following that was Glenn Jones at Islington Mill on Friday 15th, put on by Buried Bones. That was really something special, a truly beautiful evening.
Wolf Eyes on the 21st at Soup Kitchen, supported by the lovely evolving collective of musicians that is Desmadrados Soldados de Ventura. That was a great set, David Birchall took it (rightly so) as a compliment that it was the "least experimental set I've ever seen [him] play", and Kate Armitage's vocals were superbly creepy and wild. Truly fantastic to see, I'm looking forward to seeing them again in January. WOLF EYES. First time I've seen Wolf Eyes, and they didn't disappoint, although, as seems to be a theme with gigs this month, the sound system did. I wanted it to knock me out of my skin, but it felt more like I was listening from upstairs. Still great, but not quite all it should've been. Often the way Soup Kitchen, you might want to look at that.
Bohren Und Der Club of Gore. OH YES. This was Friday 22nd at Islington Mill, courtesy of Fatout. That was some gig. As a side note, if Wolf Eyes had been at the Mill, that would have made for an entirely different calibre of show. Bohren played for over an hour, and it is fair to say they blew me clean out of the water. I was expecting it to be amazing. They took amazing, and made it look like a three year old child's best efforts. Support was Cornered Yet Climbing, a beautifully dark collaboration with Kelly Jayne Jones, Pascal Nichols and David McLean, and visuals by Khom.
And tonight... Tonight is Shellac. I'm a little excited.
An almost perfect month. Some minor mistakes, and friend has fallen out with me, I'm not sure why, but it's making speaking to an entire group of people I like feel like a very awkward undertaking. I don't know what I did, and quite frankly, it's a little teenage. If you have a problem with someone, sort it. So a blip, but it's not something I'm losing sleep over.
Friday 1st November, I finally saw Warm Widow play, though I'm not entirely sure that the highlight of this wasn't steadily getting drunker whilst watching Martin engaging in some last minute song writing to be performed immediately after... No, they were amazing, as I knew they would be. I like it immensely when people you like have bands you love, mostly because I've never enjoyed obligation gigs. Not that there would be any obligation here, but it's be able to say honestly that you're there strictly for the music regardless of any friendships/acquaintance or whatever. That night was in some ways a great night, in others not so much, I talked to lots of people, but I was on self destruct that night, and at best I spoke inappropriately to people about topics that don't really matter, and at worst, I behaved in ways that made me not like myself very much - I've not been there for a long time, and thankfully I noticed it quickly, because it's not a way I like to be.
6th November was Enablers at Kraak, with Locean, Monster Island and Michael O'Neill supporting. Slightly unusually perhaps, Michael O'Neill was supporting after Enablers, but regardless of any other logistical reasons, and despite how good Enablers are, nothing could have followed his set - it was fucking awesome. He's listed on the line up for the next Gesamtkunstwerk, which sadly I can't go to, but if you can you should. It's going to be incredible.
Friday 8th was Gesamtkunstwerk, and it was a great night. I'm getting to know quite a lot of folks there, and lots of musical types were out in force; Danny Saul, Michael from Wode, Thomas Long from Easter, Michael O'Neill, Neil from Gnod/2 Koi Karp and others - all, as ever, lovely to chat to. Dancing with Lee and Amy and a bunch of folks, it's an amazing night regardless of the line up, but the line up was exceptional too - Shaped Noise, Gnod and Machine Woman. Fucking A.
Carcass at the Academy (13th November) was a bit of a disappointment - they were brilliant, but the sound system was arse. Still, having never seen them, I'm glad I did, still one hell of a show. Following that was Glenn Jones at Islington Mill on Friday 15th, put on by Buried Bones. That was really something special, a truly beautiful evening.
Wolf Eyes on the 21st at Soup Kitchen, supported by the lovely evolving collective of musicians that is Desmadrados Soldados de Ventura. That was a great set, David Birchall took it (rightly so) as a compliment that it was the "least experimental set I've ever seen [him] play", and Kate Armitage's vocals were superbly creepy and wild. Truly fantastic to see, I'm looking forward to seeing them again in January. WOLF EYES. First time I've seen Wolf Eyes, and they didn't disappoint, although, as seems to be a theme with gigs this month, the sound system did. I wanted it to knock me out of my skin, but it felt more like I was listening from upstairs. Still great, but not quite all it should've been. Often the way Soup Kitchen, you might want to look at that.
Bohren Und Der Club of Gore. OH YES. This was Friday 22nd at Islington Mill, courtesy of Fatout. That was some gig. As a side note, if Wolf Eyes had been at the Mill, that would have made for an entirely different calibre of show. Bohren played for over an hour, and it is fair to say they blew me clean out of the water. I was expecting it to be amazing. They took amazing, and made it look like a three year old child's best efforts. Support was Cornered Yet Climbing, a beautifully dark collaboration with Kelly Jayne Jones, Pascal Nichols and David McLean, and visuals by Khom.
And tonight... Tonight is Shellac. I'm a little excited.
An almost perfect month. Some minor mistakes, and friend has fallen out with me, I'm not sure why, but it's making speaking to an entire group of people I like feel like a very awkward undertaking. I don't know what I did, and quite frankly, it's a little teenage. If you have a problem with someone, sort it. So a blip, but it's not something I'm losing sleep over.
Thursday, 21 November 2013
Because I really want to look like the boy off Eerie Indiana
About four or five years ago, thought I found my first white hair, but I couldn't be sure, so I pulled it out and it was. I was excited for awhile, then a little miffed when no more came. Today I thought I found another, but I couldn't be sure, so I pulled it out to see, and it was. Is this the beginning of me finally getting lovely white hair, or am I going to have to wait another four or five years for the next one?
Wednesday, 6 November 2013
A couple of poorly conceived ideas about how to address UK, and global, wealth disparity.
The highest salary in an organisation should not be greater than 7-10 times the lowest salary in an organisation. Seriously. I really do not see why anyone needs so much more than everybody else. Obviously I understand the need for incentive, the need to feel the value of your work recognised, but there are limits. When supposedly around 300 people in America hold around 90% of the wealth, something is seriously wrong. When a footballer in the UK earns more in a week than most people can hope to earn in a year, something is seriously wrong. Yes, football is a time limited career, but that’s what saving accounts and pension schemes are for.
A minimum of x% of
profit should be held by companies as capital/invested into the business.
Dividends should not be greater than reinvestment, or wages.
As a society we should look to measuring wealth by living
standards rather than GDP, a move away from the profit and loss balance sheets
capitalism hold us accountable by would ensure a better standard of living for
the more vulnerable.
An acceptance that as we have moved from a less patriarchal
model, we have a greater available workforce. Combine this with the knowledge
that people are often more productive working shorter hours (greater health,
more energy, more creativity) and look at a socio-economic model that allows
part time work to support living standards (see the first point).
A recognition that essential services run by private
companies operate for profit. Profit means they are not running it to provide
the maximum benefit to their user group. Everyone except the government knows
this. Transport links to rural communities closed for reasons of “profit”
isolate communities, lower opportunities for employment, and generally suck. I’m
unsure what point there is in high speed rail, when many communities have
little or no decent transport links at all. Investment in nuclear power from foreign firms guaranteed more than double the current unit price for energy does not benefit those it should, it benefits shareholders, rather than acting to create a better standard of living for a population.
A recognition of what welfare, and national insurance should
be. Key word is “insurance”. By helping those who need it, when they need it,
without effectively placing them in the poorhouse, allowing them to keep social
networks intact, children in the same schools, their chances of getting back
into work would increase significantly. When all peoples time is occupied by
fatigue and shopping for the cheapest of everything, the time for job seeking
goes down. When family networks have been broken down through enforced moves,
and there is no spare money anywhere, how do mothers pay up front for childcare
and new work clothes?
A model that favours community and localised services rather than centralisation. Localised provision, be it in governments, dairies, agriculture, healthcare provides employment, fosters communities and creates jobs, centralisation causes unemployment and only favours profit. Localisation in our food industries allow for a more sustainable model, offer the prospect of better quality, less packaged green groceries, the prospect of reusable packaging (glass bottles, glass yogurt pots) in dairy, and less plastic leaching into our food products. Localised slaughter, butchery would offer the same thing. We are constantly looking for ways to reduce packaging, reduce transport miles for our food. LOCALISATION. Again, highly specialised services can operate better from a central model, yet for so much more all we reap is the price of alienation.
A model that favours community and localised services rather than centralisation. Localised provision, be it in governments, dairies, agriculture, healthcare provides employment, fosters communities and creates jobs, centralisation causes unemployment and only favours profit. Localisation in our food industries allow for a more sustainable model, offer the prospect of better quality, less packaged green groceries, the prospect of reusable packaging (glass bottles, glass yogurt pots) in dairy, and less plastic leaching into our food products. Localised slaughter, butchery would offer the same thing. We are constantly looking for ways to reduce packaging, reduce transport miles for our food. LOCALISATION. Again, highly specialised services can operate better from a central model, yet for so much more all we reap is the price of alienation.
We live in a society that values money alone, we exist to
serve the machine. What ever happened to the notion that businesses are there
to service our needs?
Our society should serve us. Not the other way around.
Tuesday, 5 November 2013
The one in which the Woodcat decides to stop drinking for a time because she keeps listening to Nick Drake in the car
There is a dog following me. You know the one. He's being howling in the field behind my house for some weeks now, chasing my car as I drive to and from university, sitting outside lectures,barking all day, howling all night. Recently he's been getting more confident and coming closer. He pads around my back garden and knocks on the back door for food. And against my better judgement I've started to feed him, to encourage him, and I think I must stop, or soon all my evenings will be spent alone doing nothing but watching Limmy, with a black dog lying with his head on my lap.
You know that the Woodcat has occasional issues with depression, right? And issues with ADD? And you know how that works and impacts my behaviour towards you all? Probably yes and no in equal measure.
The depression side of things is simple enough, in that most people I know have had personal experience of depression, either first hand or through close personal acquaintance. People tend to understand the need to introvert, to oblivion seek, to be a little less present, a little less emotionally available or capable. The attention thing makes things a tad more complicated. People have images of attention disorders as hyperactive bastard kids into everything, unable to focus on everything ever. People who are unreliable because they never remember anything. Truth is, it's not really like that. Attention Deficit Disorder is kind of a misnomer, it's not that attention is gone, so much as it's almost impossible to direct it appropriately. It's being sat at work working to a strict deadline and only being able to focus on learning how to make soap - seriously, I have quite a good understanding of how to make lye, render fat and make a good quality soap, though my attention waned before I ever got around to doing it. It's not being able to work between 3pm and 3:30pm daily because you have a work colleague on a conference call, and you can't tune it out of your head. It's revising for your Maths A Level by reading Edgar Allan Poe, or reading first year degree level Maths when you're doing your English degree. It's having known for a good 18 months what you want to write your dissertation on, knowing exactly what you want to explore, exactly what you want to say, but being unable to start until three days before the deadline. It's being eight years old and maybe only writing the date in an exercise book over the course of an entire morning. It's being fourteen years old and maybe only writing the date in an exercise book over the course of an entire morning. It's being late for everything. It's about understanding everything in classes, but being unable to write essays. Locking yourself away to work and finding yourself doing everything but. The inexhaustible lists that you attempt to live by. It's the inability to forget anything, and the inability to prioritise these thoughts, ideas. It's fluctuating between constantly going off on tangents, or an inability to change tack. Not letting things go. It's the constant blow to your self esteem that comes from chronic underachievement, that despite having an IQ somewhere above 140, you can't complete simple tasks on time. It's going out with strange boys that you really ought to avoid because they were willing to run down the road pretending to be an aeroplane with you. It's a basic problem with inhibition, of self regulation, of impulsivity. It's a problem regulating your interest level. It's needing immediate reinforcement, immediate rewards. It's not being able to skirt around issues, ideas, wanting the point, the bottom line often even before there is one. It's growing up being constantly told you are wilful, stubborn, stupid, a daydreamer. That you are idle. Lazy.
All of this causes significant impact on me personally, but I'm kind of used to my own academic and professional self sabotage, I've come to understand it and if not forgive exactly, at least be more forgiving of it. But there are areas that still upset the crap out of me, and yet it's hard to prevent it from happening. My friend Paddington used to say that there were two Woodcats, a good one and an evil one, and in lots of ways that's almost exactly how it is. Much of the time I can be a warm, understanding compassionate person. And yet... It's constantly making social gaffes that alienate and isolate. It's suffocating friends who need space, and neglecting those who need your attention. It's asking questions that are none of your business, joining in conversations where you may not be welcome. It's treating people badly. It's getting angry for ridiculous reasons. It's being curiously intolerant of other people's behaviour because your head is in a ridiculous place. Constantly butting in and not waiting your turn in conversations. It's existing in a curious plain next to reality, where you veer in turns from looking at the world from behind your face, to being completely engaged in hedonistic experiences. It's a million and one small things that everyone will recognise, but for most people it doesn't impact their lives. Be thankful. It's a bitch.
Depression is a curious ally to balance my ADD. Experiences with depression have allowed me more insight into how my behaviours impact others, and to be more self aware of when I go significantly down hill. And I am starting to notice that I'm going down hill. I'm not treating people well. I'm not treating myself well. Most of my day is spent feeling like I'm looking at the world from behind a mask. My foot is in my mouth more often than usual. My impulse control is way down. Basically, I'm not great to be around right now. Self sabotage is a definite issue. And I'm playing Nick Drake way too often. So I'm going to spend a little less time with people for a while. That said, I am very lucky to have friends who accept that sometimes I am an arse, and will either laugh at me, or tell me I'm being an arse, or both. I'm also lucky to be reasonably aware of when I am less than I want to be, and work on making myself less of an idiot. No mean feat, mind, but I'm working on it. Still, if I'm an arse to you, tell me. Self aware or no, I don't always notice myself being an idiot, and you can't change what you don't know about. It's kind of like the age old dilemma, do you tell someone they're flying low? Most people avoid doing it for their own personal discomfort, only to let the other person embarrass themselves more widely, by exposing themselves more widely... So if I'm a dick, tell me. Hopefully it won't last long. While having a black dog lurking in the back garden is one thing, I'm not keen on the idea of living with one full time.
Saturday, 2 November 2013
Stop trying
The Woodcat needs to stop trying to be better, more responsible, more of a human being. Stop trying to be less of a dick. Less of a fuck up. She is who she is. And mostly, she's an arse.
Thursday, 31 October 2013
A small moment of ranting about other peoples parenting
I generally prefer to keep my opinion of other people's parenting quiet(ish), save for when they are causing psychological or physical damage to their child. But this morning really hacked me off.
A short highly judgemental parent rant about the thoughtlessness of roughly half of the parents at my daughters nursery:
It is Halloween, and yes, the children are interested in dressing up. That said, when I arrived this morning half of the kids at nursery, already too hot in ridiculous acrylic skeleton costumes, were stripping themselves down to vest and knickers and unable to change into their ordinary clothes because their parents hadn't put a change in their bags. This left some of them quite upset, and, although the nursery has some spare clothes, is quite frankly unreasonable of parents not to foresee the inevitability of their child's discomfort and the likelihood that they would be much happier with their regular clothes on, and a costume in their bag to change in and out of as the mood takes them.
IT IS NOT ROCKET SCIENCE. EVEN I UNDERSTAND THIS. YES, EVEN ME.
For fucks sake.
A short highly judgemental parent rant about the thoughtlessness of roughly half of the parents at my daughters nursery:
It is Halloween, and yes, the children are interested in dressing up. That said, when I arrived this morning half of the kids at nursery, already too hot in ridiculous acrylic skeleton costumes, were stripping themselves down to vest and knickers and unable to change into their ordinary clothes because their parents hadn't put a change in their bags. This left some of them quite upset, and, although the nursery has some spare clothes, is quite frankly unreasonable of parents not to foresee the inevitability of their child's discomfort and the likelihood that they would be much happier with their regular clothes on, and a costume in their bag to change in and out of as the mood takes them.
IT IS NOT ROCKET SCIENCE. EVEN I UNDERSTAND THIS. YES, EVEN ME.
For fucks sake.
Wednesday, 30 October 2013
October
Pretty month a whole month has gone by in a flash. Well a series of small flashes. And lots of moping. And some gigs. And some sleeping. All of that.
Obviously the start of the month got off to a bad start. I'm pretty sure I blogged that, and I think that adding details would be unnecessary. Suffice to say the incident has been resolved to my satisfaction, and allows me to continue viewing the people I know and mind about as people I know and mind about, instead of getting hung up on their actions. People often say actions speak louder than words. Souls speak louder than both. Looking someone in the eye, irrelevant of what is said, allows for understanding in a way that words and actions never will. And now all is fine and dandy. So kids, if people offend you, or you offend them, man up and speak to each other, as honestly and openly as you can. You don't have to tell them everything. Just talk. Mean what you say, even if you can't say exactly what you mean. Often that can fix everything in a way that time and distance never can.
Enough of that. On with the rest of the month. I went to see Metal Rouge at Kraak on the 7th, which was pretty awesome, and Acid Mothers Temple on the 10th. Acid Mothers was absolutely freaking brilliant, not least because I'm slightly convinced they arrange where they stand on stage based on who looks the most like a wizard. The weekend of the 19th and 20th was the Carefully Planned festival around the Northern Quarter. A few good bands were listed, but I was only really bothered about seeing Warm Widow, and maybe Plank!, on the Saturday, and Big Joan on the Sunday. But line ups change, Warm Widow couldn't play because of a drumming limb injury, and Big Joan moved into a Saturday night spot. I need to take a moment here to say just how good Big Joan are. Seriously AMAZING. Loud and raucous and mental and amazing. Good times were had with beers with lovely people, and eventually ended up with Martin Warm Widow and I colonising Danny's kettle while records were played, fun was had, and members of Big Joan gradually fell asleep to raging death metal at around 4am, followed by me driving Mr Warm Widow home, and getting at least two hours sleep before my Kittencat awoke.
Wednesday 23rd was Mark Eitzel. I'm surprised I was the only person I knew there, but it was one hell of a show. The support band were still on when I got there, they were good if you like that sort of thing, kind of generic folk pop complete with hand knits and a violin. Not really my bag, maybe some one elses. They weren't bad, definitely tuneful and all of that, but not for me. I'd tell you who they were, but I can't remember, and the details will probably be on the Hey! Manchester site around about here. The combination of this, and the overwhelming stench of feet present in Soup Kitchen on that particular evening made me nearly leave without ever hearing Mr Eitzel, but I'm glad I stayed. Few people can transcend the smell of feet, but he just about manages it, aided by my having found a spot where the smell was diluted by the air con. So yes Mark Eitzel, you transcend the smell of feet. What can I say? You are a beautiful, talented man, everybody knows it. And now we know you have the power to overcome evil smells as well with your singing prowess.
Saturday 26th and Sunday 27th was the Mantis festival. I've never managed to get down before, but this time I got to all three concerts, and there was some pretty inspired challenging stuff. The auditory potential of 48 channels is awe inspiring, and some pretty amazing soundscapes and auditory experiences result. I will say that some of the pieces better than others, and I think some of the pieces possibly needed a little more daring. Some I need a better understanding of the underlining concepts of what was intended in order to appreciate how much I like them. Three moments arguably stood out for me, Brona Martin's piece A bit closer to home...... which created a beautiful spacial landscape mirroring ocassional aural narrative beautifully, Pareidolia I by Patrick Dunn and performed by Marij van Gorkom (I think that's the piece I mean, she played about six, I think this was fourth?), and Gavin Osborne's Mechanical Air with a hypergraphic score by Michael Mayhew, this last piece beautifully executed with flute and electronics, and the distortion of the aspect of the planet looking like a human skull pleased me immensely. Or at least it did if I'm remembering the order of this right. I think those visuals and that piece line up - then again, I heard and saw a lot of amazing things this weekend. My friend Danny Saul had a piece (Rise) on the Sunday also, I must confess to having a huge list of questions before I'm going to know exactly how much I liked it. Some pieces meld or challenge you instinctively, and some have a helpful and pithy little description in the programme which you look at a few days later and say "Ah yes, so what I was getting was what they were going for after all", containing as they do one or two emotive rather than music techy words which confuse and bewilder me in terms of aim. I will say the arrangement was awesome. But overall, and this may have been the intention, it left me with a curious sensation of being utterly alone and abstract from my surroundings, from the rest of the world. There was a numbness reminiscent of those times when you walk alone in a crowd, hearing but not hearing, seeing but not seeing, nearly getting run over by something or another because in your absenteeism from the world you saw the car but it didn't occur to you not to cross. Warning sounds barely register, barely penetrate your consciousness. You hear as if underwater, sounds all sounding the same, distances blurring in their indistinguishable one volumed noise. As you can see, I have questions. Because if that was the aim, I fucking loved it, and it would make the stand out list into four, not three. If not, well, there are points that a few tweaks would have changed the entire experience into one that felt absolutely alive and engaged in EVERYTHING.
Obviously the start of the month got off to a bad start. I'm pretty sure I blogged that, and I think that adding details would be unnecessary. Suffice to say the incident has been resolved to my satisfaction, and allows me to continue viewing the people I know and mind about as people I know and mind about, instead of getting hung up on their actions. People often say actions speak louder than words. Souls speak louder than both. Looking someone in the eye, irrelevant of what is said, allows for understanding in a way that words and actions never will. And now all is fine and dandy. So kids, if people offend you, or you offend them, man up and speak to each other, as honestly and openly as you can. You don't have to tell them everything. Just talk. Mean what you say, even if you can't say exactly what you mean. Often that can fix everything in a way that time and distance never can.
Enough of that. On with the rest of the month. I went to see Metal Rouge at Kraak on the 7th, which was pretty awesome, and Acid Mothers Temple on the 10th. Acid Mothers was absolutely freaking brilliant, not least because I'm slightly convinced they arrange where they stand on stage based on who looks the most like a wizard. The weekend of the 19th and 20th was the Carefully Planned festival around the Northern Quarter. A few good bands were listed, but I was only really bothered about seeing Warm Widow, and maybe Plank!, on the Saturday, and Big Joan on the Sunday. But line ups change, Warm Widow couldn't play because of a drumming limb injury, and Big Joan moved into a Saturday night spot. I need to take a moment here to say just how good Big Joan are. Seriously AMAZING. Loud and raucous and mental and amazing. Good times were had with beers with lovely people, and eventually ended up with Martin Warm Widow and I colonising Danny's kettle while records were played, fun was had, and members of Big Joan gradually fell asleep to raging death metal at around 4am, followed by me driving Mr Warm Widow home, and getting at least two hours sleep before my Kittencat awoke.
Wednesday 23rd was Mark Eitzel. I'm surprised I was the only person I knew there, but it was one hell of a show. The support band were still on when I got there, they were good if you like that sort of thing, kind of generic folk pop complete with hand knits and a violin. Not really my bag, maybe some one elses. They weren't bad, definitely tuneful and all of that, but not for me. I'd tell you who they were, but I can't remember, and the details will probably be on the Hey! Manchester site around about here. The combination of this, and the overwhelming stench of feet present in Soup Kitchen on that particular evening made me nearly leave without ever hearing Mr Eitzel, but I'm glad I stayed. Few people can transcend the smell of feet, but he just about manages it, aided by my having found a spot where the smell was diluted by the air con. So yes Mark Eitzel, you transcend the smell of feet. What can I say? You are a beautiful, talented man, everybody knows it. And now we know you have the power to overcome evil smells as well with your singing prowess.
Saturday 26th and Sunday 27th was the Mantis festival. I've never managed to get down before, but this time I got to all three concerts, and there was some pretty inspired challenging stuff. The auditory potential of 48 channels is awe inspiring, and some pretty amazing soundscapes and auditory experiences result. I will say that some of the pieces better than others, and I think some of the pieces possibly needed a little more daring. Some I need a better understanding of the underlining concepts of what was intended in order to appreciate how much I like them. Three moments arguably stood out for me, Brona Martin's piece A bit closer to home...... which created a beautiful spacial landscape mirroring ocassional aural narrative beautifully, Pareidolia I by Patrick Dunn and performed by Marij van Gorkom (I think that's the piece I mean, she played about six, I think this was fourth?), and Gavin Osborne's Mechanical Air with a hypergraphic score by Michael Mayhew, this last piece beautifully executed with flute and electronics, and the distortion of the aspect of the planet looking like a human skull pleased me immensely. Or at least it did if I'm remembering the order of this right. I think those visuals and that piece line up - then again, I heard and saw a lot of amazing things this weekend. My friend Danny Saul had a piece (Rise) on the Sunday also, I must confess to having a huge list of questions before I'm going to know exactly how much I liked it. Some pieces meld or challenge you instinctively, and some have a helpful and pithy little description in the programme which you look at a few days later and say "Ah yes, so what I was getting was what they were going for after all", containing as they do one or two emotive rather than music techy words which confuse and bewilder me in terms of aim. I will say the arrangement was awesome. But overall, and this may have been the intention, it left me with a curious sensation of being utterly alone and abstract from my surroundings, from the rest of the world. There was a numbness reminiscent of those times when you walk alone in a crowd, hearing but not hearing, seeing but not seeing, nearly getting run over by something or another because in your absenteeism from the world you saw the car but it didn't occur to you not to cross. Warning sounds barely register, barely penetrate your consciousness. You hear as if underwater, sounds all sounding the same, distances blurring in their indistinguishable one volumed noise. As you can see, I have questions. Because if that was the aim, I fucking loved it, and it would make the stand out list into four, not three. If not, well, there are points that a few tweaks would have changed the entire experience into one that felt absolutely alive and engaged in EVERYTHING.
Sunday, 6 October 2013
It's good to know how people see you.
Life confuses me. People confuse me. Late night drunk texts express disdain, you find out exactly how some people see you. And you find yourself thinking less of them, despite knowing that they aren't actually as much of a douche as they're being. And generally people can be quite douchy, when we have stuff going on we fuck up, I know this, I am pretty darn forgiving about most people doing most things. I know we all behave like dicks at times, and as a rule I judge everyone I know on who they are, not what they do. But there comes a time when knowing who someone is is not enough to excuse their behaviour. The way people behave towards you is a display of how they perceive you, and ultimately, who they are becomes irrelevant. The message with the shitty excuse for an apology the morning after doesn't remove the illumination of knowing how someone sees you. And for that I should say thank you, it's good to know how people see you.
Wednesday, 2 October 2013
Breaking Bad is over
And it was truly awesome. It really was. I can't write about it, because I know too many people who haven't seen some/all of it. But hell. I reckon I might watch it all right through again sometime next year. But for now the difficulty lies in trying to decide whether to work all the way through The Sopranos from the beginning, or go for something new (to me) and watch It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia... And while I wrote that, I decided. "You know, I love you guys, but sometimes you're not that cool. Try to be cool." - Yeah, I'm going to like this.
So in follow up to the last post
I only want to be friends. Whether you like me in that way or not. Whether I like you in that way or not. Friends. That's it. We good? Awesome.
Sometimes it takes those who know you less well to tell you how fragile, and how strong, you are.
There's been a lot of reflection the past few weeks. Cattenberg's move was finally completely completed a week and a half ago, and the start of term promptly began, leaving no real time for straightening life out before it became too busy to. I will confess that this leaves me feeling less organised and more bewildered than I wanted, the original plan was that the summer would be a time of rebuilding, for both of us, our separate lives in our separate homes. I don't blame Cattenberg for this, the multitude of failed moves were hardly his fault, and it's rare to have such a prolonged run of bad luck with potential landlords. Nonetheless, there are things that should be that are not, and I am only just in the process of making this right. This leaves me very much feeling like I'm still on the back foot, but this will not be for much longer, but probably doesn't help to minimise a level of fragility I didn't know was currently present, but has made itself highly visible in the past couple of weeks.
I'm also reminded of a conversation a few weeks ago, with a friend who berated me for saying I'm not much of a catch, telling me that the only thing that would make me not so is in saying that about myself. So I should probably clarify. I like my face. I like who I am. My face, like myself, is not perfect, but it looks like me. I can be pretty interesting, if you like that sort of thing, and I can be humorous, albeit infrequently, and not uncommonly in poor taste. My foot spends most of it's time in my mouth, but I'd say that that's a really good way of finding out who your proper friends are. I'm a pessimistic optimist, in that I generally plan for the worst case scenario in order to always be pleasantly surprised. The things I do and give to people generally aren't done with an ulterior motive. I appreciate good art, and bad art, and I have an excellent wall of books in my living room. Saying "I'm not much of a catch" is not really about my own personal feelings about me. Me is good. It's more a defence mechanism that's become a habit I guess. I'm not interested in seeking a relationship, and putting myself down, and outlining the minutiae of life with a child rather than the more interesting facets of my being is a really good way of making boys run away. And yet again, this is not about the idea of me being scared of the idea of a relationship, or intimacy, or anything else, it's just that I don't want one for the sake of it. If I like someone and they like me, great. Let's hang out, see what happens, find out if it's interesting. But there has been no mutual like. One way, or the other, but not both, together, at the same time. And this brings me to a serious point. If it's not going to happen, either because I've already told you it's not, or because you don't actually like me and are just drunk and lonely and are suddenly reminded that Woodcat is indeed a girl, don't kiss me. Seriously. Don't kiss me. This is a very serious point. I have always been a fairly tactile creature, and generally speaking, if a boy kisses me, and in that instant I want to and I have no reason not to, I will kiss them back. It doesn't necessarily mean anything to me, other than a nice moment, and I will happily continue being friends with them, with such a thing not having changed anything. So if you like me, or if I like you, or if it's just a tactile moment, I'm unlikely to be the one with the massive brake saying "hang on a moment." That said, if I'm not interested, I can categorically say it will not go any further. I have no problem with kissing you, and still being your friend. I have no problem still being your friend even if it does go further, and turns out to be a mistake, on either your part or mine. But this is where it gets messy, and why I am saying don't kiss me. Any time this happens, any time an interest has expressed by a boy in recent months through whatever motives, subsequently their friendship is removed. Of course this is never admitted to, "of course we're still friends". And yet the change in the wind states otherwise. Some more noticeably than others, going swiftly from speaking nearly every day to "I'm washing my hair" when a beer is suggested, others were more part of a circle of friends, and so the absence can be denied more convincingly. When I was talking to my friend about my lack of catchness and this particular phenomenon, he said some boys have some weird guilt thing about this kind of thing, and that's why they behave like this. I have no such guilt. Just because someone turns out not to be interesting to you in that one facet did not mean that you weren't attracted to them at all, it just means that ultimately you were only attracted to them enough to be friends. And if you carry on talking to people, and keep these things open, people generally get back to normal with you very quickly. This I know from experience on both sides of the fence, and have some excellent friendships that began as misguided more than that's. And friends, old and new, are necessary and valuable to me, especially at the moment. I'm more likely to pine over the loss of your friendship than I am about ten seconds of saliva. So don't kiss me. And if you do, don't make such a big fucking deal about it.
I'm also reminded of a conversation a few weeks ago, with a friend who berated me for saying I'm not much of a catch, telling me that the only thing that would make me not so is in saying that about myself. So I should probably clarify. I like my face. I like who I am. My face, like myself, is not perfect, but it looks like me. I can be pretty interesting, if you like that sort of thing, and I can be humorous, albeit infrequently, and not uncommonly in poor taste. My foot spends most of it's time in my mouth, but I'd say that that's a really good way of finding out who your proper friends are. I'm a pessimistic optimist, in that I generally plan for the worst case scenario in order to always be pleasantly surprised. The things I do and give to people generally aren't done with an ulterior motive. I appreciate good art, and bad art, and I have an excellent wall of books in my living room. Saying "I'm not much of a catch" is not really about my own personal feelings about me. Me is good. It's more a defence mechanism that's become a habit I guess. I'm not interested in seeking a relationship, and putting myself down, and outlining the minutiae of life with a child rather than the more interesting facets of my being is a really good way of making boys run away. And yet again, this is not about the idea of me being scared of the idea of a relationship, or intimacy, or anything else, it's just that I don't want one for the sake of it. If I like someone and they like me, great. Let's hang out, see what happens, find out if it's interesting. But there has been no mutual like. One way, or the other, but not both, together, at the same time. And this brings me to a serious point. If it's not going to happen, either because I've already told you it's not, or because you don't actually like me and are just drunk and lonely and are suddenly reminded that Woodcat is indeed a girl, don't kiss me. Seriously. Don't kiss me. This is a very serious point. I have always been a fairly tactile creature, and generally speaking, if a boy kisses me, and in that instant I want to and I have no reason not to, I will kiss them back. It doesn't necessarily mean anything to me, other than a nice moment, and I will happily continue being friends with them, with such a thing not having changed anything. So if you like me, or if I like you, or if it's just a tactile moment, I'm unlikely to be the one with the massive brake saying "hang on a moment." That said, if I'm not interested, I can categorically say it will not go any further. I have no problem with kissing you, and still being your friend. I have no problem still being your friend even if it does go further, and turns out to be a mistake, on either your part or mine. But this is where it gets messy, and why I am saying don't kiss me. Any time this happens, any time an interest has expressed by a boy in recent months through whatever motives, subsequently their friendship is removed. Of course this is never admitted to, "of course we're still friends". And yet the change in the wind states otherwise. Some more noticeably than others, going swiftly from speaking nearly every day to "I'm washing my hair" when a beer is suggested, others were more part of a circle of friends, and so the absence can be denied more convincingly. When I was talking to my friend about my lack of catchness and this particular phenomenon, he said some boys have some weird guilt thing about this kind of thing, and that's why they behave like this. I have no such guilt. Just because someone turns out not to be interesting to you in that one facet did not mean that you weren't attracted to them at all, it just means that ultimately you were only attracted to them enough to be friends. And if you carry on talking to people, and keep these things open, people generally get back to normal with you very quickly. This I know from experience on both sides of the fence, and have some excellent friendships that began as misguided more than that's. And friends, old and new, are necessary and valuable to me, especially at the moment. I'm more likely to pine over the loss of your friendship than I am about ten seconds of saliva. So don't kiss me. And if you do, don't make such a big fucking deal about it.
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