It was strange to think that the version of me who saw this film for the first time in the early 2010s thought it was merely ok - verging on meh, even - because Current Me thought it was brilliant.
How can I be two different people in such a short time?
Lola has the best hair; I would love to have hair like this:
I also really like that if you do an image search for Franka Potente, she looks like a completely different person in every single photo.
The crowing achievement of this weekend was reading the set text for the current module - Humans and Other Animals by Samantha Hurn, all 200-and-something pages of it.
I was quite pleased with myself as I haven't finished reading the set texts for my 1985 English Literature A Level yet.
I got through by pandering to the ADHD instead of fighting it: leaping up every time I felt myself losing concentration to jog on the spot, or put the kettle on, or stare out the window for a bit, before gently bringing myself back to the task in hand.
(I used to be able to read a book in one go, but lockdown seems to have killed off that particular superpower.)
An interesting session with my study support tutor today.
Instead of chatting about yoga and food and holidays like we usually do, I asked if we could do a note-taking exercise, because I'm finding that my note-taking is hopeless.
So we watched a short video and both took notes.
Then we answered set questions on what we watched.
While we both wrote down more or less the same things, hers were in context and she was able to answer all the questions.
Mine were a haphazard collection of random detail, missing the obvious stuff, and they barely made sense when I read them back. I managed to answer about half.
She said, "Didn't you see the infographics flash up?"
No, because my head was down, writing.
She said, "Didn't you watch AND listen while you were writing?"
No, because I can't do more than one thing at a time.
She said, "So you can't take it in as a whole and then just capture the gist?"
No. Because how do you even do that. Because it was going so fast and there were eleventy million possibly-relevant things flying at me at ninety miles an hour and I couldn't keep up and anyway how do you tell which is the important bit.
She said, "So you either see the whole, or you see the details, but not both at the same time?"
Yes. Exactly, yes. And if you asked me right now, I'd struggle to tell you what the video was about, beyond Chernobyl and elephants and fatal photos - my god, that photo - and here is a page of hastily scrawled numbers to prove it.
She said, "Oh, that's interesting... Interesting."
So, some progress made.
At last, I think she believes me about the ASD/ADHD.
Ok so it was actually a paid-for one-hour Zoom event via @GuardianLive with my three favourite Guardian columnists, but in the context of the last 12 months it felt like a proper night out with excellent people.
Saw my first person braving the cold to sit out on the rec. Hero - while it certainly smells like spring, it's still not exactly warm out there:
Soon there will be many more.
Discovered something called Jal Tarang today. I challenge you to watch this and not want to give it a go on whatever jam jars and cereal bowls you can muster:
And found a nice graphic to help me remember the phases of the moon:
All these things are important of course because I'm in total denial about having two essays and a shitload of reading to do. I cannot make my brain engage with uni work at all.
Never mind. Here's Today's Photo: Man on Bus
Plus two more also taken on the drive home from work, purely because I like them:
On a lighter note, this piece about your internal monologue is fascinating - like the author, I just hear my own voice and never thought for an instant it could be different.
After a dismal day yesterday, today I tried to find ways to make myself feel happier.
I followed the advice of my study support person and wrote an affirmation to stick on my wall. I watched the two TED Talks she sent me, I read Cake and Inner Calm, I steered clear of politics and Twitter.
In the sidebar of the latter video, I saw a link to a guided meditation purporting to "release negative thoughts" - just the ticket.
Gave it a go but didn't get very far with it - there was a bit too much of having to imagine awe-inspiring vistas for my aphantasic brain to handle - but it did remind me that, during Experience Week at Findhorn, I experienced shamanic drumming meditation for the first time and for its duration I basically left the planet.
Leaving the planet feels like quite a good option at the moment, so I had a quick search of YouTube and turned up this 20 minute meditation, which proved most satisfactory:
I didn't leave the planet but I did rely on a giant turtle, dance on a paradise beach and turn into fire, so that was nice.
Here is one of the pair of magpies who are busy nest-building in the tree outside my house:
(I put together a run of photos to make a gif.)
The nest is directly in my eyeline when I'm sat at my desk in front of the window attending lectures via Teams. I've been trying to get a picture of them at work for ages but only today is the nest high enough for them to appear above the leaf-line when they perch on it.
Further distractions to lectures came in the form of the air ambulance landing on the rec very close by:
Just prior to this, an unmarked car had screamed down the road with blues-and-twos going full blast.
I'm not sure what it was about (and prefer not to know, my heart can't take any more sorrow at the moment) but it made the local news. I hope whoever it was is ok.
It was warm and sunny outside, so after lectures I got down and dirty with the crocuses again:
And I spent a lot of time hanging over the edge of the bridge, staring at the abstract reflections in the brook:
But in the end there were just too many people in the park for comfort and I had to come home.
I'm back to feeling depressed again. Feeling okay lasted about a week.
What do you write about when every day is the same?
Another Sunday spent staring at a screen or looking out of the window at the same old things - trees, rain, traffic, people hanging out in the bus stop over the road because they're bored with this too.
I'm struggling today.
Don't want to do any uni work; don't want to go to my job tomorrow. No energy for either.
Just want some respite from the infinite drear.
While being by myself is infinitely better than being trapped with other people, some days it still sucks.
This weekend last year I was in London, visiting family, seeing the sights, travelling around on crowded tubes, buses, trains and trams, and catching what was probably Covid-19.
I would start to feel ill the following Wednesday.
I never found out for sure, but whatever it was felt like a very bad chest infection. I had a horrendous cough which got worse at night, when lying down made my lungs feel as if they were filled with goo. After the worst symptoms passed, I lost my sense of taste and smell. I felt extremely weak. At the time I wasn't worried because I had no internet at home and didn't really follow the news. Back at work, I just heard my colleagues discussing China and Italy, and sensed a strange tension in the air that would build to a crescendo by mid-March.
So, it's been one year since I saw this beautiful sight:
Victoria Coach Station arrivals
Our bus was stuck in the entranceway for ages because it was busy inside, so I turned to take this photo, not knowing it would be the last time - for how long? - I'd be seeing that sign.
Bienvenue à Londres, adieu à Londres. Tu me manques.
Got out for two walks today. One to pick up a library book and visit the local farmers' market, and one to go to the post office.
This is life now.
Joni Mitchell got it right: you don't know what you've got til it's gone.
In between work, two lectures, a one-hour meeting with my student support person and an Eventbrite thing at 6pm, I decided to get some laundry done.
There is a small laundry mountain in the bathroom at the moment, but I concentrated on workwear (my approximation of the official uniform), viz:
Five black T-shirts
One black jumper
Two pairs of black jeans
Socks, black, a multitude
One facemask, grey, triple-layered
(Spot the item that wouldn't have been on the laundry list this time last year.)
Now, in this tiny rented bedsit there isn't a washing machine. And I hate going to the launderette even when there's not a pandemic on.
Which is why I bought R2-D2.
R2-D2 is the greatest thing ever.
I fill him with hot water from the shower, and hand-rinse in the sink.
Bung things on the radiator to dry or hang them from the curtain rail on coathangers.
If you can get it through the hole in the top, you can wash it, and it'll come out cleaner than it does in a normal washing machine.
He's paid for himself a million times over and he means I don't have to have awkward conversations with the man who runs the launderette.
(Mo is nice, but terribly chatty.)
R2 counts as exercise and also entertainment in lockdown times.
I can tell if I'm having a good or bad executive dysfunction day by how far I get through 200 handle-cranks before losing count.
He is such a pleasure to use that on occasions I've even managed to empty the laundry basket.
One day last summer I got a king sized duvet cover, sheet and pillowcases washed, dried and back on the bed in one day and quite possibly that was the best thing that happened in 2020.
Back to work, back to uni, back to the same old same old.
I haven't felt this normal since January 2020.
Went for a walk after lectures; that was nice.
Saw a black cat, a good crow, a big sky, a waxing moon, some excellent street art and a small boy trying to fly a home-made kite on the pavement outside his house despite there being no wind.
The kite was made out of a Tesco carrier bag and plastic straws and sellotape and string and I loved it and I loved that kid for making it, and for really wanting it to work, and for reminding me of myself when I was that age because I did things like that too.
In the gathering dark, I also enjoyed watching someone practising with an LED hula hoop on the rec.
In the sense that St Valentine is the patron saint of bee keepers, epileptics and the plague, I mean.
He wasn't looking too hot when I saw him in Rome the other year.
Spent the day mainly catching up on missed tutorials and trying to get ready for the new module that starts tomorrow (I blew all of Reading Week on writing the essay).
"Create all the happiness you are able to create; remove all the misery
you are able to remove. Every day will allow you, --will invite you to
add something to the pleasure of others, --or to diminish something of
their pains. And for every grain of enjoyment you sow in the bosom of
another, you shall find a harvest in your own bosom, --while every
sorrow which you pluck out from the thoughts and feelings of a fellow
creature shall be replaced by beautiful flowers of peace and joy in the
sanctuary of your soul."
Great, except the Auto-Icon thing is a bit weird. Jezza pictured here, in two parts, also not looking too hot:
I'm quite glad relics have gone out of fashion.
Today's Photo: All Ready For Module Four (So, You Want To Be A Vegetarian?)
"Some believe that the dream about teeth crumbling or falling out is
caused by a loss of power or control over a situation. Has something
happened in your personal or professional affairs that you feel
powerless to stop? Are you feeling anxiety over a loss of control in
your life? There’s a chance you might have this dream during one of
those times.
Others, however, think that teeth crumbling or
falling out is a sign that you may have said something you now regret.
Did you recently divulge a secret, gossip, or criticize someone? Do you
wish you could take it back? Your mind may be processing this event and
your remorse about the situation may be reflected in your dream.
For another perspective, Dream Dictionary explains
that “teeth as a symbol might imply inner aspects of ourselves that we
don’t recognize,” so “possibly the ego is being provoked or challenged.”
Furthermore, Dream Dictionary notes: “teeth falling [out] suggest a
lack of support internally and you might be having trouble holding
things together that [were] once strong in you.""
The article then slips seamlessly into advice about bruxism and how to attain the smile of your dreams - those Texan dentists have a strong marketing game.
The day got off to a brilliant start when someone retweeted this into my timeline this morning:
The Bayeux Tapestry is online! This makes me so happy I can't even. Visiting it in France in 2016 was a highlight of my life.
I went to see it twice, two days running, spending hours in there each time (you're meant to be in and out in the time it takes to listen to the audio-commentary).
The tweet that brought its online presence to my attention notes, "you can zoom right in and see all kinds of stuff - there's weird beasts, nudity, quicksand, comets, destiny, meat on sticks, odd social details, haircuts, astronomy and a massive battle at the end."
I loved the mention of haircuts. This is one of many notes I made during my visit to Bayeux:
Every time I've passed through Reading since 2016 the museum's been shut, but I'll go and admire Dangle Guy's new underpants one day.
Actually, I might make Reading my summer holiday destination this year, if things are open and we're allowed to travel again by then. Everyone else will be in Cornwall or at the beach or Up North so it should be nice and deserted.
Before you scoff, the river at Reading is lovely; it was one of my favourite bits when I walked the Thames Path:
Watched this thought-provoking short film by and about non-speaking autistic people. I hope one day we will get this equality thing right:
And enjoyed a fascinating old long read from The New Yorker, The Possibilian, about the neuroscience of time.
"The more detailed the memory, the longer the moment seems to last. “This
explains why we think that time speeds up when we grow older,” Eagleman
said—why childhood summers seem to go on forever, while old age slips
by while we’re dozing. The more familiar the world becomes, the less
information your brain writes down, and the more quickly time seems to
pass."
I'm doing this blog to try and fend off the year because, in the Great Void of 2020, time slipped by like water.
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