Billygean.co.uk

Compulsive Reading

On the only non pikey who went to my school

“Guess who added me on Facebook?” OldestFriend says, sipping her coffee.

“Not -”

“Yes!” she squeals.

We are, of course, talking about a boy we lusted after in upper sixth form. That is, when we were 17.

“Let me see,” I say, opening my laptop.

I tilt my head to the side. “He looks -”

“I know, good looking in some and awful in others,” she says.

“It was more his presence,” I say.

“Yes, he could just walk into the room and everyone would stare.”

“But he didn’t want you to,” I say.

I look at his profile. “I am surprised he’s single. I thought he was more a relationship kind of man.”

“Did you ever speak to him?”

“No.”

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“Some people are settling down, some people are settling and some people refuse to settle for anything less than butterflies.”

I pad into the kitchen after calculating MindReader will be here in a couple of minutes and turn the kettle on. I wasn’t able to make drinks for the best part of two months so nothing can stop me now.

I take the proper coffee out of the fridge and smell it – oh the days when I could drink fresh coffee.

I don’t really know what happened next. Somehow between getting my soya milk out and getting MindReader’s dairy milk out, the dairy milk ended up all over the floor. I mean ALL OVER THE FLOOR, rivers of it, at least two pints.

So, I think, this is what I’m going to do with my energy today.

I stare at the floor, delaying it. What happens when you’re well enough to make drinks but not well enough to clean them up?

Just then MindReader walks in. “Hello,” he says, grinning broadly. And then – “oh. I see.”

I stand with my hands on my hips for a moment and he wordlessly gets a bowl out, fills it with hot soapy water and scrubs at the floor.

It takes over five minutes and I stand there in silence, feeling guilty and ridiculous for the tears welling in my eyes.

He stops scrubbing, pats a towel over the wet patches, pours the water away and stands up. “So,” he says, ignoring everything around us, “how was your day?”

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On cooking sweet potato chips

“Right,” MindReader says, having come in from his run. “I am going for a shower.”

“Okay,” I say, straightening my hair.

“If I’m not back in ten minutes can you go and shake the potatoes?”

“Er – yes,” I say. “Why?”

He catches the expression on my face. “The ones in the oven,” he says.

“Ohhh.”

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Wherein MindReader is devious and loving

“I’m bored,” I say to MindReader across my candles. It is dusk and we are lounging in the living room, the windows thrown wide open.

“How are you feeling?” MindReader says.

I shrug, “fine,” I say.

He tugs at my hand and leads me outside into the garden, greeny-yellow on a backdrop of light blue dusky sky. The air outside is warmer than in and it is so still it feels almost airless. It smells of earth and blossom and nighttime.

He appears out of the garage with a golf club and a ball and I snort. “Er?”

“It’ll be fun,” he says, placing his warm body behind me.

I spend a while obsessing over my grip and trying not to stand like a ballerina. I consider hitting it a few times but chicken out.

“Please go in the garage,” I say to MindReader. “I can’t do it in front of you!”

Alone, I stare at the golf ball and the club. I take a deep breath and swing.

Events happen in this order:

I miss the ball, hit the washing line with the club and fall over.

I hear a snort from the direction of the garage and stand up.

“You watched!” I say.

Billygean,” MindReader says, looking at my grass-stained knees. “I love you.”

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Improvements in health and baking

“It says here,” I say, pushing my new fringe out of my eyes and squinting at the recipe, “that you boil the orange for two hours until soft – done – and then blend it. Including the skin.”

“Right,” MadFather says, his hands covered in orange. “Why did you choose this recipe when we don’t have a blender?”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay,” he says, “we can just – well, mush it up. And grate the skin.”

“It’ll be fine,” I say, picking up a cheese grater.

“That’s why we’re crap at baking,” MadFather says, grating the very soft orange down the side of the grater. He looks at the orange mush in the bowl. “This is going to be rubbish.”

Half an hour later we have something resembling a cake mix. And I am still not tired!

The kitchen is hot so I open the door and sit on the step outside for a moment. I look across the street.

Our neighbour gets something out of her boot. It is a brand new blender.

I roll my eyes.


(the cake is for Mindreader who got a distinction on the law course I deferred. I have no candles hence the decoration is slightly – er – seasonal).

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Probably something I shouldn’t have done

I place MindReader’s coffee and Dairy Milk down next to him. It is late evening.

“Thanks,” he says, touching my hand and pulling me down next to him.

I rest my head on his shoulder and watch some comedy quiz show thing.

Moments later he turns to me and kisses me.

“Dear God,” I say as he pulls away.

“Oh, I know.”

“No,” I say, “you taste of Dairy Milk.”

“Oh,” he says, looking put out.

“Come on, it’s been a month without chocolate!”

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Your questions answered

1. From Kirst – What is the largest animal in the world?

Well. I said elephant but MadFather tells me it’s a blue whale. So: there you are.

2. Raquela – when might you be babysitting cats in the future?!

Unfortunately, DoctorSister’sHusband has put a blanket ban on me babysitting the cats for the following reasons:

1. I left the heating on
2. I fed the neighbour’s cat, too.

So, there.

3. Nic says – who is your favourite member of McFly?

You know, I don’t know any members of McFly. Having looked at this photo I would have to say that the man on the far left has a huge face, the man second from the left looks like a middle aged housewife, and the other two look like bog standard indie boys except one has horrible hair. So: probably the one second from the right.

4. Justmeandb asks – do you watch Big Brother 9? Are you able to watch the US Big Brother 10?

I got into the very first few Big Brothers when they were not full of people being paraded for their abnormalities. The weirder they got, the less interested in transsexuals/bisexuals/witches/albinos I got. Funny that.

5. Suzy asks – who would be in your World 11 (football?)

Hm. I’m not really sure what this is. I think I would have MindReader, because he is very good at football. I would play too, if I could, just because that would mean I didn’t have glandular fever anymore. I would therefor also recruit some people to stand on the sidelines with me and gossip – Lucy, OldestFriend and MadFather – and um…… 6 more people who could play football quite well. There!

6. Suzy asks – why did Mike delete me as a friend?

Mike probably doesn’t want any mutual friends with me because he thinks I am evil.

7. Suzy asks – I’ve left my cardigan at work three times this month. Do you think I will make a good Mum, or will I lose the baby/ies?

Well, you probably wouldn’t be taking the baby to work and if you left it there I suspect a hospital isn’t the WORST place to lose a baby. Incidentally there is now an alarm (see here) that goes off when people leave their baby in the car instead of taking it into the supermarket with them. You know, dogs die in hot cars, and babies are just like dogs in terms of forgetting them (!).

8. Suzy asks – what colour bridesmaids dress?

OldestFriend came over last night and showed me a piece of ribbon that the dresses are to be based on. It is dark grey and swishy and shimmery. I have free reign on the design of my dress though which worries me since I couldn’t be less artistic.

Unless you mean mine? In which case I’d like them to be like this. That is – the colour. I don’t necessarily want all Asian bridesmaids.

9. Suzy asks – which nursery rhyme contains the line ‘the dish ran away with the spoon’?

Dum dum dum da da the cow jumped over the moon… Hey diddle diddle?

10. Suzy asks – what is your favourite property on a monopoly board?

Um. Park Lane. Because if I’ve bought that it means I might be winning.

11. It’s fun to bank asks – what’s the novel about?

Good question, I won’t even tell some of my close friends this. The novel begins the night before the main character goes to university. Her mum dies, and she was not close to her dad. The latter half of the book post mum dying is therefore about reassembling her identity after depression, and building a relationship with her father. It’s a little bit King Lear since she is horrible to him at some points in the book.

12. It’s fun to bank asks – Do you think you’ll be a full time lawyer/ novelist/ housewife or something else by the time you’re 45?

Well, as long as my health continues to improve, I should be a full time lawyer by September 2009, or 2010 if my health takes a little bit longer.

I am unsure on the novelist angle, it depends on so many things.

Housewife – well, I do want children, and before I got sick I never would have imagined not working for years in order to look after them. But now – who knows?

13. Kirst asks – what would be your three desert island books? And what would the desert island be?

Very very difficult question. I love lots of books.

On Beauty – Zadie Smith – because it is the best 21st century writing I have ever seen. I genuinely believe all of the characters exist on this Earth.

To The Lighthouse – Woolf.

The complete works of William Shakespeare.

And the desert island would be near the Maldives. They’re currently my desktop, and where MindReader’sSister is on her honeymoon, so I am very jealous.

14. OldestFriend asks – If you had a box of Lego bricks, what would you build?

I used to build towns/cities with roads and houses so probably that. Or just a big mansion.

15. Justmeandb asks – Since “Mike” has been referenced twice in this post I just HAVE TO know who he is! So, who is “Mike”?

Although you have retracted this I think I shall answer anyway for the avoidance of doubt. Mike is my ex-boyfriend. We dated from 16 October 2003 to 25th March 2007. He will tell you I left him for MindReader. I would like to tell him it takes two to ruin a relationship.

16. Kitania asks – Ok… what is it about MindReader that you love the most? Only one thing…

His bum. Look at it – it is the most perfect thing on earth.

No. Seriously. The thing I love most is hit wit. When I met him it was like I’d realise I’d only been half laughing for the first 22 years of my life, and he changed that completely. Sexy ass nonetheless though.

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Stolen from littleredboat

I quite liked the idea of this, and from some of the emails I get I think you will too. So: ask me anything, ANYTHING (I hope Mike doesn’t read this!) and I will answer.

Until a certain time when I close comments/emails. Because I can’t go on answering forever. But I’m not going to say I’m going to close it in 24 hours if I haven’t got any questions by then.

So yes: ask away.

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Also: FIVE yes FIVE of my good friends have got engaged in the past month

Well.

MindReader and I went on our first date in months and months today. Admittedly we only went to Starbucks for half an hour and most of the time I was dizzy but! I wouldn’t have been able to do that two weeks ago. And we talked! Alone! And I couldn’t behave like an orangutan because we were in public! (as he kept pointing out). I had forgotten smells of buildings that are not my house, of brewing coffee and other people’s perfume, I had not raised my voice in months (other than obligatory gland-shouting moments) but had to, today, because of other people’s voices. I hope I never forget all this again.

Also, OldestFriend today has told me she wants me to be her BRIDESMAID. This pleases me on a number of levels:

1. She has faith I will be well in 18 months.
2. Her wedding is just after New Year, to beat the post-Christmas blues, something we both struggle with.
3. The number of bridesmaids at my wedding is increasing quite a lot, presuming I have everyone who has asked me. I’d like to have hundreds, but MindReader disagrees.

So, there. Lucy is coming up tomorrow for the weekend and lots good has happened today. Except I’m not seeing MindReader now until Monday and this sometimes eclipses all happy thoughts. Damn you, hormones. And endorphins.

Still, in 18 months’ time I WILL be wearing a swishy silvery dress and walking down the aisle and NOT feeling tired damnit.

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Irony

I place Your Guide to Gluten-free Wheat-free Cooking on the counter in WH Smiths.

“Just that?” the man says. I try not to hurry him, afterall, he’s not to know I’ve been to Asda (BRIEFLY) too, is he? Oh, and that I’m not exactly normal yet.

“Yes thanks,” I say and push my switch card into the holder.

“Can I interest you in a Nutrigrain bar? It’s important to get three servings of whole grain wheat a day,” he says.

I look down at the book. And up again.

“No – I think I’ll pass thanks.”

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