Monday, July 29, 2002

You know something. I'm bloody tired.
And I don't just mean I'm tired because I sepnt half the day shifting sand and cement about under the blazing sun, I mean I'm just *tired* - you know, where you just can't be bothered with life? Oh don't get me wrong, this isn't one of those tedious teenage "nothing is worth it, I'm going to kill myself" pieces of rancid drivel, nobody who writes them ever bloody means it. If you *meant* it you wouldn't write about it, you'd take a razor to your wrist. Yes I'm a cynic, bite me, Elizabeth Wurtzel, the paracetamol's in the cupboard you self-absorbed moneygrubbing pathetic bitch of a twiglet.
What I mean by tired of life is that it just doesn't mean anything in the sense of isn't it all a bit pointless and capitalistic. Now I'm not suggesting we adopt some fucked up Marxist rubbish that doesn't even work in hippy communes such as the House of LURPS, which incidentally sounds like it owes far more to the House of Frazer than the House of Usher. I'm just saying it doesn't seem to achieve anything. I'm writing, and I'm working, and I don't seem to be going anywhere, at all, let alone anywhere fast. So why am I doing all this? Doing a degree, improving my writing, making myself look faintly bearable every morning instead of showing my true squinty-eyed, welcome-to-the-jungle-haired, freckled and generally facially nasty self to the world? Well I suppose Aristotle would tell me that I am working towards eudaimonia, but you know what? He's dead, and I only listen to dead people when they say something worth hearing, like "in the beginning the Universe was created. This made a lot of people very unhappy and was generally regarded as a bad thing" which isn't just worth hearing, it's also true.
There really wasn't actually a point to this bout of existential nausea. I was just being a spolt little malcontent as usual. So what's life all about? Don't ask me, I just play the organ. And incidentally I just say that, it's a Goons quote - I don't really play the organ, though I do occasionally sit and make them make bad noises - in fact if you let me near an organ, I play *with* it if not actually *play* it. And I want one of my own, because they're impressive and I might one day learn to play it, which would also be impressive. God I'm babbling.

Sunday, July 28, 2002

Since Blogging seems to be a weekly occurence for me these days, here I am. I'd love to be able to say my life has become more interesting but it really hasn't - I've spent all week hefting building materials around. And getting paid for it of course, but there's not enough money in the WORLD to make my sunburn any less bad.
Having discovered I was in fact very very sad indeed, I've been watching the tapes of "Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em" which one assumes came from Joyce's house after she died. Seems a damned weird thing to take when someone dies but we have the Andrew Lloyd Webber tribute too so I can go on a nice big Crawford binge. But in any case, I've discovered it's actually kind of funny and have removed it from my Room 101 list - at least until I next feel spiteful I have.
So what else went on.. uhhm, had a great big fit over writing to **** and had my Bach confiscated because it wasn't doing me any good, spent a night with Tess - oh and of course there was the Full Moon Rite which was fun. I haven't celebrated an Esbat with people for ages. In fact it occurs to me that this Esbat was exactly a year after my first ever proper one, wow! I've been a dedicated Witch for a whole year! 'course I was a practicing Witch for long before that, but I only really started celebrating last year, and it was on that first Esbat that I first decdicated myself fully to the Morrigan. Of course we had the classic lack of anything to light candles with on a pitch black Ritual site at midnight, but we managed, it was a lot of fun.
It's been a fairly uneventful week really, not that I ever have eventful ones, except those ones where I don't actually stop from Monday to Friday then die on Saturday to be reborn in flames on Sunday afternoon. Went for lunch to celebrate my father's birthday yesterday - if you ever find yourself hungry in Herne Bay, seek ye the Seawise restuarant opposite the Pier Pavillion, gorgeous little place. Expensive but worth every penny - try the lemon sole.
Next week is going to be a busy one. I'm laboring again of course, but also on Thursday I'm cooking a Lughnasadh dinner for my folks, baking bread and gingerbread, and at the Ritual on Thurdsay night I'm being Priest, which brings back memories. Anyway, going to scuttle off now, I'm supposed to be working on my dissertation *raises umbrella just in case flying pigs have diarroeha*