A Lucid Moment

Another few weeks and I'm back at work and feeling more comfy. My secondment has been extended for another eight weeks which pushes it back to the end of August and the call centre is feeling very very remote. This is a good thing. Call volumes are out of control and the atmosphere in there is feeling rather toxic to the point where I'm feeling it from 9 floors up and through some rather remote channels.

I bought myself a cello last weekend. This is an amazing instrument and one of the most deliciously tactile things I own. It is huggable in a way that I don't expect from a musical instrument and rewards pretty much any kind of touch. It resonates and responds makes complex noises no matter what I do with it. My left hand kind of knows what's going on but the bow is a challenge. If I play it pizzicato the level of concentration needed is less than half of what I need with the bow and it engages me in an exhausting way. I like this. I like it a lot. I'll like it even more when I learn to make deep, sweet, toffee-coated sounds with it.

I'm finding that I can walk more and I'm starting to want to reclaim this body that I like so so much more than I ever have before. I still can't cycle or skate and that will take some time. I'm undertaking a detox diet with my housemate which was something she wanted to do and that dovetails with the intention I already had not to drink alcohol over the course of July. This might pull some of this excess weight off and give me a head start on doing some kind of real exercise heading into August. In the meantime I still have the opportunity to get to know this body in an awful lot of ways. Derby is receding into the background although I still have a lot of wonderful people in my life as a result of it but the resulting gap left by its absence and the fact that surgery no longer occupies so much space in my thoughts gives me a chance to introduce new things to myself. Cello is definitely one. Defining relationships with people and the communities in which I exist is another. The myriad mental projects which all seem to be converging on the notions surrounding the ways in which we see and treat those who are not like ourselves is yet another.

I have a big blank canvas to play with. There's lots that's already defined but I have lots and lots of wriggle room. I *knew* this was coming and I knew full well that I was only going to be able to start the process of filling in the gaps once those gaps appeared. This is going to be fascinating.

Well that was a fun weekend. Yesterday was a Kerry Greenwood book launch for 'Medea' which was fun, as those usually are. I know she turns these things out as fast as is humanly possible but I could wish to see them more often. This was followed (as they usually are) with a meal across the road which included a glass of Samuel Smith's Oatmeal Porter, one of the more chewable beverages I've had of late. This was followed by a lovely afternoon/evening with montjoye which involved a trip to Spotlight mostly to get lace trim to help with the lining of the utterly spectacular coat that she's nearly finished and partly to get thread to suit the cloth which she so generously gave me. We then had yummy corn and ham and vegetablish soup while watching Sherlock Holmes and in her case, hemming her coat.

I got home to discover that tenbears's old van had vanished from where it had been parked out the front of my place for the past few weeks. I called him, he called me, the police called me and the matter was resolved this morning by 10B locating it parked up the other end of my street. This didn't really surprise anyone. The clutch pedal doesn't work, and it is therefore something of a challenge to drive any great distance if you don't know how to manage a manual gearbox without touching the clutch. We stripped it of everything of value, something the thieves made a complete non-attempt at it seems, and left it parked there as the battery is completely flat. Roll starting it is theoretically possible but I'm not sure I want to play that game in a narrow street with cars parked on both sides.

After that I immediately showered and changed as I had to be in Camberwell for a rather fun concert in which the soprano was a recently met friend who I suspect I'm going to see more of and who accompanied myself and montjoye and Ms J for a nice dinner afterwards. Music and dinner and conversation is a great way to round off a weekend.

On a slightly less pleasing note, it seems that people will still drop in "he", "him" and "his" when referring to me if they're not actively paying attention. This isn't a complaint per se because in every other respect people have been respectful and lovely. It does illustrate how I'm perceived though when that's the reflexive construction used. I'm guessing it's primarily the voice that's the culprit but it shows that I have a long way to go.