(no subject)
Even though it's 11pm and I'm tired, I want to ramble a little bit.
Brownies went ok. I hadn't factored in the speed at which we'd get through the songs or the disruptive nature of 7-10 year old girls. One in particular wanted slapping. I warmed up with Boom-chicka-boom, which is call and response. Unfortunately, this obnoxious little cow decided to take the piss and repeated everything I said for the next five minutes. Those songs we did manage to sing went ok, although I've never heard anyone make such a dirge out of On Top of Spaghetti. I must apologise for casting aspersions on Mandy's singing - yes, she's sort of not very good at all at it but on the other hand, I have seventeen tone-deaf Brownies. Not a single one is capable of producing a recognisable tune. Not one. I have to admit I spent more time shouting at them to be quiet than I did teaching them songs. And the little horrors did immediately decide they wanted to do My Little Baby Bumblebee - a song I'd deliberately left out of the songbook because I hate it. I don't like "squishing up my baby bumblebee" but I'm a severe emetophobe and I particularly hate the "sicking up my baby bumblebee" bit. (Had to giggle at Red Men. I've been singing it since I was seven - I am immune to the ickiness of that song. I no longer notice the "stir their innards in our cake" and "down among the dead men" etc but the Brownies have clearly never come across anything quite so graphic in their little lives. There were disgusted noises made. They did enjoy the chorus and the actions though.)
I think my hands are doing a little better for the hydrocortisone cream. They're still covered in bumps but I think the bumps are a little less prominent than they were. They're certainly tolerating the E45 better now - figured moisturising in between applications of steroids can't hurt - and it's not burning anymore. I have never been allergic to anything in my life and I regard this as a complete betrayal.
I am, in the not too distant future, going to see Ed Byrne with Mandy. The AA website says the drive is 1hr 10mins, which in rush hour traffic on the roads in question, means at least two hours. And God, it's stressful. I am never taking anyone with me again. I've been worrying about it since about September, when I originally booked the tickets. Mandy was thinking of pulling out last week. She has tonight regaled me with tales of her period and how it may affect the evening. She's also said she's leaving work at 4.30 (I still strongly suspect something'll go wrong at the last minute) and she'll get to mine at about 5. Now, let me clarify something here. Mandy doesn't work for the same company as me anymore, she's across the road. From my house, that's just over a mile. I know she stands around and talks (I've found myself standing out in the cold until my hands are blue and my mother's phoning to make sure I'm not dead in a ditch - one of the benefits of her having moved jobs is that I get to go home at 5, instead of 5.50!) but half an hour?! To complete a three-minute drive? I have warned her that I'll be sitting on the front step, keys in hand, at 4.10, tapping my feet and getting angry so I hope she doesn't push it too much. She says "Oh, it'll take 1hr 10 mins, we'll get there, park, have something to eat-". What?! 1) It'll take longer than that 2) Eat? This is the trouble with Other People. Other people can't survive on missing a meal. It would never have even crossed my mind to eat. There's nowhere to eat. It's a theatre, not a restaurant and you're not just a vegetarian-who-can't-eat-anything-containing-MSG, you're a vegetarian who wants and expects to be able to find something you like/want to eat. If I ever had this expectation, it was wrung out of me a very very long time ago. Eating means me sitting looking at my watch in a state of panic going "Please just get the beans down you so we can get in before the show actually starts, for God's sake!". And this is all before we get to afterwards. My plan, frankly, is to hang around afterwards to say hello. I'm sure Mandy would like to meet him too (period permitting, apparently) but it's going to be relatively late, we've got quite a long drive afterwards and it's a school night. I don't care. Annie, when she was supposed to be coming, was particularly unenthusiastic about this bit. Mandy is less unenthusiastic but I anticipate feeling vaguely guilty and uncomfortable on her behalf when we're standing out there when I'm supposed to be bouncing up and down with excitement, and indeed, left to my own devices, I would be.
I have learnt that I do not enjoy sharing comedy with other people; I can't deal with the stress and I'd much rather have an empty seat beside me than endure months of "which way is this going to go wrong next?".
I've just done the "What is your love language?" test. My result is Quality Time. See here:
In the vernacular of Quality Time, nothing says, “I love you,” like full, undivided attention. Being there for this type of person is critical, but really being there-with the TV off, fork and knife down, and all chores and tasks on standby-makes your significant other feel truly special and loved. Distractions, postponed dates, or the failure to listen can be especially hurtful.
Yeah. I believe at several points I've whined/got upset (often properly upset) about everything in that last line. I have been the shy, quiet, invisible girl for most of my life - if I feel I know you well enough that I want you to notice me, then please notice me! It means I trust you lots and I value you lots and I want to be around you and it's not nice when someone you feel like that about seems to regard you as being about as important and interesting as a plant pot. (This is why I don't tend to cope well with big gatherings.The few people I'm comfortable with, understandably, want to see other people and not hang around babysitting me. This causes spirals resulting in me being hugely glad to leave. I'd much rather just go to your house when there's no one else in, or go for a walk on the hills or go to the pub. All things I can cope with. I sometimes try to deny it but I do rather like people.)
One of the other languages is Physical Touch. I'm not hugely into that. Jess and I don't hug; we've never hugged. Annie introduced this concept to us and even she doesn't do it much. It would never occur to me to touch someone's arm when I'm talking to them, etc. Although there was one day, when I was seventeen. I'd been talking to Silver before school that morning when a friend of his who'd also been there had fallen on the floor and had an epileptic fit. Quite a shock to me because I didn't know she was epileptic. In a panic and not knowing what else to do, (while he held onto her and bellowed for an adult) I ran to tell her friends and they just looked at me and said "Yeah?". Anyway, I think it was later that day and he found me and I think he asked if I was ok and I vividly remember just standing there and feeling an urge to stroke his cheek. I believe my hand even went up in the air towards him before I realised what it was trying to do and put it back down. That's pretty much the only time I've ever felt the need to casually touch someone. I quite enjoy cuddling, although I'm prone to pins & needles and I fidget like crazy. I was part of a Farscape forum once upon a time and one of the people from there lived near where I went to uni and we met up for scones one afternoon and she was really nice (and has since turned up again as a schoolfriend of someone from my caving club - very weird seeing "an internet person" appearing in "real life") but she has Aspergers and she doesn't like being touched. That's fine. However - and I still don't know exactly what she wanted - when we met and when we parted, she threw her arms out, so I did what you usually do when that happens and I hugged her - and she flinched, both times. I don't know if I just hug wrong or if she only wanted an "air hug" or what but it was weird. I don't initiate touching or hugging but generally, I don't mind joining in. Unless it's the sister-in-laws to-be of your best friend out on a hen night doing the giggly half-drunk females in feathers and high heels thing, in which case the hugging and air-kissing is excessive enough for me to be a little uncomfortable.
Now I'm headachey with tiredness. Not enough sleep Saturday night between late night, early morning and the clock change. And my teeth hurt because I ate fridge-cold jelly and bit it with my broken tooth. Figured it's jelly, it's the softest food in the world, it won't hurt to bite. It does. Most things don't hurt at the time but it was cold and that hurt. Most things hurt later and it does that too! (Guess who's still never made it to the dentist?!) And you can tell how tired I am: it just took me five attempts to spell "softest" correctly. Spelling is one of the few things I'm actually good at. (My grammar leaves something to be desired. I abuse commas and semi-colons, I know, among my myriad other crimes. But I can spell. Except those things you have to learn as part of your driving test - three point turns, etc. Manoeuvres. My bete noir of spelling.)