(no subject)
ONGOING WEEK:
Yesterday I shoved myself through a slightly less brutal workout and forced myself onto a train (stymied in my mad onward rush by SOUTHERN BASTARD RAIL who refused to provide me a train for a full twenty minutes, the swine). Brief amusement in the form of a young Spanish (not Italian as claimed on Twitter - it took me a minute) woman explaining earnestly to an old British woman she was sitting opposite that the correct way to refer to an Americano (both having established that they were latte drinkers) was "dirty water".
Ploughed on through Brighton via a couple of Asian groceries (in order to pick up lunch: normal people eat sealed packs of bamboo and chilli peppers for lunch, right?), collected Muffy and dropped off her Food Bribes (having inventoried a mere fraction of my horrible food hoarding problem I managed to reduce its size by unloading a bunch onto my "keeps forgetting to food shop" friend), then took an ice tea with additional whisky in it off to Trans Pride.
We actually found the mermaid parade first, which was amusingly appropriate as Mermaids is a charity supporting trans children. This one just had assloads of mermaids and mermen and jellyfish and pirates and so on, and lots of stalls about protecting sealife, and some exasperated dads being covered in glitter by their excited children.
Trans Pride had decided to locate their entrance at the opposite end to the sea front, which was a pain in the ass because MUFFY CAN'T WALK VERY WELL and by the time we got to the top she was having pain sweats. A++ disability access you fucks. We found Arwen and Arwen's friend whose name I have temporarily forgotten (possibly Kate?), I found Octavian and his mentee (TINY TWELVE YEAR OLD TRANS BOY WITH BRACES), and after a brief packed lunch and some recuperative wine, were ready to aimlessly wander.
It was small and such but quite heartening despite the very T-shirt-slogany feel. Ended up flopping down by some food stalls while "superheating the air" with the intensity of my longing stares in the direction of some unreasonably attractive bears, as the EDS-sufferer and the arthritic one were still suffering from the Tremendous Accessibility. We went back to Muffy's flat (nearby) to pick up cocktail and her crutches as the cane wasn't cutting it any more.
AND THEN I WENT IN THE FUCKING SEA, slightly wine-sozzled and VERY READY TO BE IN THE SEA.
Some notes on BEING IN THE SEA:
1. It was rather more feisty than it looked but also warmer.
2. I should not go in the sea at Brighton without shoes, as Muffy demonstrated. I, on the other hand, now have feet covered in cuts and bruises, including on the arch of my foot. Ow.
3. If I was in any doubt about whether the make-up of my body mass has changed (and I got a nice spiteful letter from the Surgeon of Hate on Saturday morning which effectively summarised my appointment: doesn't smoke, IS FAT, HAS LOOSE SKIN, has been warned that he's going to look bad because HE'S FAT), the difference between Muffy "gracefully mermaiding through the water, bobbing with the waves, could do this all day" in her black swim dress with A FULL FACE OF MAKE-UP and me "trying not to get contact lenses wet, repeatedly knocked over by waves, sinking like a stone, do not appear to be making any headway" as I attempted to stop my STP falling out of its harness and then staggered back onto dry land making woe-faces to dry off.
4. Muscle sinks. I used to float. I do not even slightly float now.
Anyway, we drank some more wine and dried off in the sun, and finished off the thermos of cocktail, and I scampered off to buy dinner, and we had, LJ, a most delightful and beautiful dinner on the roof opposite Muffy's flat, watching the sunset, and in my case talking intense bollocks while shovelling spicy tofu into my face hole.
TODAY:
I tried out some new lat exercises and will be continuing this. Made: Matcha syrup slushie, no-sugar meringues, vegetable cake for tomorrow (with protein powder), a breakfast spirulina Spanish tortilla, and an indoor barbecue stocked with stuff I picked up at the farmers' market (there is no amusement like that from people who cannot understand why you are insisting on paying for the 9p worth of carrots you're purchasing); also I got given a third of a punnet of strawberries for free, for some reason.
TOMORROW:
Last therapy. I plan on replacing this with swimming in the local pool as I clearly need practice.
Yesterday I shoved myself through a slightly less brutal workout and forced myself onto a train (stymied in my mad onward rush by SOUTHERN BASTARD RAIL who refused to provide me a train for a full twenty minutes, the swine). Brief amusement in the form of a young Spanish (not Italian as claimed on Twitter - it took me a minute) woman explaining earnestly to an old British woman she was sitting opposite that the correct way to refer to an Americano (both having established that they were latte drinkers) was "dirty water".
Ploughed on through Brighton via a couple of Asian groceries (in order to pick up lunch: normal people eat sealed packs of bamboo and chilli peppers for lunch, right?), collected Muffy and dropped off her Food Bribes (having inventoried a mere fraction of my horrible food hoarding problem I managed to reduce its size by unloading a bunch onto my "keeps forgetting to food shop" friend), then took an ice tea with additional whisky in it off to Trans Pride.
We actually found the mermaid parade first, which was amusingly appropriate as Mermaids is a charity supporting trans children. This one just had assloads of mermaids and mermen and jellyfish and pirates and so on, and lots of stalls about protecting sealife, and some exasperated dads being covered in glitter by their excited children.
Trans Pride had decided to locate their entrance at the opposite end to the sea front, which was a pain in the ass because MUFFY CAN'T WALK VERY WELL and by the time we got to the top she was having pain sweats. A++ disability access you fucks. We found Arwen and Arwen's friend whose name I have temporarily forgotten (possibly Kate?), I found Octavian and his mentee (TINY TWELVE YEAR OLD TRANS BOY WITH BRACES), and after a brief packed lunch and some recuperative wine, were ready to aimlessly wander.
It was small and such but quite heartening despite the very T-shirt-slogany feel. Ended up flopping down by some food stalls while "superheating the air" with the intensity of my longing stares in the direction of some unreasonably attractive bears, as the EDS-sufferer and the arthritic one were still suffering from the Tremendous Accessibility. We went back to Muffy's flat (nearby) to pick up cocktail and her crutches as the cane wasn't cutting it any more.
AND THEN I WENT IN THE FUCKING SEA, slightly wine-sozzled and VERY READY TO BE IN THE SEA.
Some notes on BEING IN THE SEA:
1. It was rather more feisty than it looked but also warmer.
2. I should not go in the sea at Brighton without shoes, as Muffy demonstrated. I, on the other hand, now have feet covered in cuts and bruises, including on the arch of my foot. Ow.
3. If I was in any doubt about whether the make-up of my body mass has changed (and I got a nice spiteful letter from the Surgeon of Hate on Saturday morning which effectively summarised my appointment: doesn't smoke, IS FAT, HAS LOOSE SKIN, has been warned that he's going to look bad because HE'S FAT), the difference between Muffy "gracefully mermaiding through the water, bobbing with the waves, could do this all day" in her black swim dress with A FULL FACE OF MAKE-UP and me "trying not to get contact lenses wet, repeatedly knocked over by waves, sinking like a stone, do not appear to be making any headway" as I attempted to stop my STP falling out of its harness and then staggered back onto dry land making woe-faces to dry off.
4. Muscle sinks. I used to float. I do not even slightly float now.
Anyway, we drank some more wine and dried off in the sun, and finished off the thermos of cocktail, and I scampered off to buy dinner, and we had, LJ, a most delightful and beautiful dinner on the roof opposite Muffy's flat, watching the sunset, and in my case talking intense bollocks while shovelling spicy tofu into my face hole.
TODAY:
I tried out some new lat exercises and will be continuing this. Made: Matcha syrup slushie, no-sugar meringues, vegetable cake for tomorrow (with protein powder), a breakfast spirulina Spanish tortilla, and an indoor barbecue stocked with stuff I picked up at the farmers' market (there is no amusement like that from people who cannot understand why you are insisting on paying for the 9p worth of carrots you're purchasing); also I got given a third of a punnet of strawberries for free, for some reason.
TOMORROW:
Last therapy. I plan on replacing this with swimming in the local pool as I clearly need practice.