Buskin' Bob was banging no about Climate Change again tonight. I said what about that Exxon ad? He hadn't heard about it (which makes a first!). I said the one about glaciers and carbon dioxide. The ad says that the glaciers aren't really melting and that carbon dioxide isn't pollution, it's LIFE. I don't usually make them ALL laugh at one time, but they got pretty riotous at that. When the hilarity finally subsided, Buskin' Bob said that even he was amazed at Exxon's bogosity. Justin wanted to know if I still believe in Father Christmas.
Sigmund had some conference to go to from Friday until tomorrow, so besides not being able to go to his and have some VERY MUCH DESERVED peace and quite, and besides having Marcella and Lucrezia spread out all over my room so that I had to sleep on the sofa, I got stuck with Duck Dog. Made up with Marcus so I'd have someone to walk him with me. He, of course, insisted on dragging the Gruesome Twosome along with us. He said we couldn't just leave them sitting in the house all weekend. (How tres wrong is that? I'd have loved to leave them sitting in the house - forever, if it's in somebody else's house.) On the good side, spending two afternoons with Duck Dog and Marcella and Lucrezia definitely made the weekend seem much longer than usual. And Duck Dog practically endeared himself to me by snatching Lucrezia's ice cream off her. You should have heard her scream! For the first time it was like music to my ears. So Marcus (who does have a very sweet side - not that I get to see it that much) bought her another ice cream. And then Lucrezia pretty much endeared herself to me because she marched right over and smooshed it into Duck Dog's face. All four of us cracked up (you never have a camera when you really need one, do you?). Duck Dog didn't mind at all, because even though he can't swim he's pretty good at eating ice cream off himself.
Another day, another row with Marcus. This one was because we can't agree where to go for our first joint summer holiday (we reckon we deserve it, since we've WORKED SO HARD this year - as per usual - but it's beginning to look unlikely that we'll still be speaking by then). I want to go to Greece or possibly Spain, you know, somewhere with great weather and good food. Marcus says we can't leave the British Isles (somewhere that, on the whole, DOES NOT fit that description) because it's ENVIRONMENTALLY IRRESPONSIBLE to fly unless you absolutely have to. [Question: Do I curse the day I introduced him to Buskin' Bob? Answer: YES!!!!] So we have to go someplace you can go by bus or train. (Of course we probably could go to Greece or Spain by train, but by the time we got there we'd have to turn right round and come back.) I said what did he have in mind? Blackpool? Hastings? Or maybe he'd prefer someplace we could walk so we'd really do the environment a favor. Like South London. I understand Clapham Common's practically paradise in July. He said he was thinking of Scotland. Apparently his dad's got a mate who has some cows on Islay. I pointed out that Islay's a rock. And I don't plan to slog through my A-Levels just so I can spend two weeks chasing cows out of the road on a rock. Came home. Expected to at least get some sympathy from Nan (I gave up expecting sympathy from my mother YEARS ago), but (once again!) I was tragically mistaken. Nan was being all lovey dovey with the Vicar in the kitchen. (They were practically drinking out of the same cup of tea)! As soon as I walked in she screamed, "Guess what Janet?" I said I reckoned they'd patched things up. She said better than that. Nan and the Vicar are GETTING MARRIED!!! (How ironic is it that Sappho, who isn't even heterosexual, and Rose Bandry, who thinks anyone born after the Second World War is young, are getting married and Sigmund, who's both heterosexual and young enough to care, can't even get a date?) All I can say is, I hope all of this doesn't give the Mad Cow any ideas.
Sappho, Mags and the Germ came round last night. Sappho wants me to be BEST MAN at their wedding. I said maybe she hadn't noticed but I'm of the Female Persuasion. She said SO? I said and anyway it's not like they can really get married. It's just a civil ceremony. She said after the civil ceremony they're having a service with a priest and all. (As well as forgetting that I'm a GIRL she seems to have forgot that she considers organised religion to be the opiate of the people!) I said she's delusional. Where's she going to get a priest from? She said from Nan. The Very Reverend Jerym Noad will be presiding. And the Germ will be the flower girl. Motherhood is obviously dissolving her brain. Not only can the Germ not stand for more than a few minutes without falling over, but she'll eat the flowers. Sappho said, so did that mean I'd do it? I said only if Justin's the bridesmaid.
Managed to get hold of Sigmund's credit card while he was taking a shower yesterday morning, and registered him and sent off my original profile (with one or two amendments) while he was doing the shopping in the afternoon. Now all I have to do is sit back and wait for the emails to start pouring in.
Managed to get Sigmund away from the telly last night by turning the set off at the switch (he'd never think to look - he once called the AA because the car wouldn't start and it turned out there wasn't any petrol in the tank!). Tried to get him involved in the My Secret Life game but he refused to play. He said it was a load of rubbish. I said I thought it would give me valuable insights into his heart and mind. He said all I needed to know about his heart and mind is that he can't wait till I leave home so he doesn't have to support me any more. Ended up listening to Bob Dylan all night and losing at draughts. I ask you: How is this man ever going to get a girlfriend? It's ASTONISHING that he's ever had even one.
Gran still in residence (which means still in my bed). Asked her how long she's planning to stay with us, since it gets pretty crowded at ours at the weekends. She said till Jerym learns his lesson. Packed my bag and headed for Kilburn. What if the Vicar is like EVERYONE ELSE on the planet and never learns his lesson? It's okay coming to Sigmund's for a day or two but I don't want to make it my life's vocation or anything. You haven't really known true boredom until you've tried to watch a mystery on the telly with Sigmund banging on about the psychology of the killer the whole time. (He's ALWAYS wrong!)
Gran turned up this afternoon. She had a major fight with the Vicar of World Peace. She was shouting and crying and everything. You'd think she was a teenager and not practically ninety or whatever. [Note to self: If the sturm und drang of relationships NEVER end then what's the point of getting old? I mean, you'd think there'd be SOME compensation for the saggy skin and the arthritis and your teeth falling out!] I reckoned the Vicar must've done something truly awful - like get caught with the woman who does the flowers or something. Nan said not to be ridiculous. Turns out, the fight was about how to boil an egg. Even though she's not particularly known for her sense of humour I thought Nan was joking. THINK AGAIN, JANET! I said I didn't see what there was to argue about. You put the egg in water and you boil it. Apparently, it's not that easy. According to my grandmother, there's a right way and a wrong way to boil an egg. I said and what's your way? She said apparently it's the wrong way.
Disha said her brother doesn't even remember who Gore the Bore is, but he did ask round to see if anyone else did. A couple of people did recall his existence - VAGUELY - but in the past. Apparently no one's seen him for eons. That doesn't sound good to me. Disha said I'm over-reacting. She said that if he really has topped himself because I broke his heart someone would have heard. I doubt that. You can tell that (if he lives that long) Gore the Bore is going to end up one of those old geezers whose death is only discovered when the stench gets so bad that someone calls the cops.
May have cracked the Sigmund's Profile Problem. They've got these pieces in the colour supplements where they either ask some sort of famous person a bunch of questions or they ask him (or her) to list their favourite things and explain why they like them so much. I still think Disha's wrong about telling the truth about the senior male Bandry, but since I am astoundingly mature for my age I've decided to give it a go. This could even make the whole thing less stressful and creatively demanding on me since Sigmund (being a man, a psychoanalyst and childishly simple) loves games and I can probably get him to answer the questions himself.
Justin wasn't home yesterday and he didn't turn up again today. For a few golden minutes I thought that maybe he'd gone back to Hungry Mexico, but no such luck (of course!). Apparently he's got a new girlfriend. I said, 'What? Already?' He's only been back a couple of weeks. The MC said Justin's a very attractive and eligible young man. I said I'd like to know on what planet.
Spent the afternoon tramping through the market with Lucrezia and Marcella. Made Marcus come along so I wouldn't lose my mind. Marcella was looking for something to wear to some party she's been invited to. You'd think she'd been invited to a do at the palace the way she carried on. A lot of the problem seemed to stem from the fact that she had to guess what someone called Mina was going to be wearing. After what seemed like YEARS of trying on the same things in different colours I suggested that she ring Mina and ask her what's she's wearing and put us all out of our misery. Marcella said she can't do because she isn't speaking to Mina. Then she started to cry. Then Marcus and I had a fight because he said that I was being tres un-understanding for someone who's been known to spend four hours to choose a pair of boots. I said at least I buy new boots. Some people are still wearing ones they had when they were sixteen. He said he doesn't buy things just to buy things, he buys things when he NEEDS them. I asked is we were talking about ME. He said I'm an ad man's dream. Left him with the Deadly Duo and came home. It's just as well we'll have separate honeymoons or we'd be divorced before we unpacked our bags.
Tried to get Marcus to read my profile for Sigmund to see what he thought, but he refused because he said that it's an invasion of Sigmund's privacy. (I think it's brilliant that Marcus is a man of principles, but I wish he wasn't always applying them to me!) I pointed out that it's no such thing, since I made most of it up, but he still wouldn't read it. Marcus doesn't think registering Sigmund for online dating is a good idea. He accused ME of being interfering!!!! Marcus thinks I should MIND MY OWN BUSINESS (for a change - his exact words!)!! I said if my own father isn't my business, what is? Went home in a strop.
Apparently the hard part ISN"T DONE! Disha thinks I should redo Sigmund's profile. She said that aside from the fact that the snail ice cream is going to put people off, it sounds too samey. I said same as what? She said same as everybody else's. Nobody ever admits to having mainly superficial conversations, when, if you think about it, that's just about all they do have. You never hear anybody at the next table discussing the socio-economic effects of the Plague or the leitmotifs of ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF SOLITUDE. It's all what colours are in this season or whether or not they should cut their hair. Plus Disha said the profile's misleading. She says even if making Sigmund an Evangelical Christian chef makes him sound more interesting than an atheist psychoanalyst it's going to attract the wrong sort of women (women who like to eat and don't believe in sex outside of marriage). Plus, what happens when they discover the TRUTH (that he can't cook and he's not too keen on evangelists)? She wanted top know why I didn't tell the truth about him. (Oh right. Like he's a liar, a cheat, a bad driver, when he's depressed he drinks white wine and listens to Bob Dylan and every pair of socks he has has holes in it.) I said because then the profile wouldn't attract ANY women. But I think I may change him to a Pagan. (Pagans are more flexible and they don't mind munching on twigs and berries.)
As I have a caring and generous nature and can't bear to see my male parent seeking into a sea of despondency and despair no matter how irresponsibly he's behaved in the past (he actually watches Saturday night TELLY - how despondent and despairing is that?) I made a superhuman effort and got his Profile together for the online dating. Some of it's not true, of course. He never says anything meaningful that I've noticed, he can't cook, he doesn't like to walk even in good weather and if Jesus wants Sigmund to find Him, He'll have to come to Kilburn. Also, Sigmund isn't really intelligent, he's just over-educated. Anyway, see what you think:
I HAVE A RECIPE FOR SNAIL ICE CREAM BUT NO RECIPE FOR LOVE!
Do you like fast food, superficial conversation, people who haven't found Jesus or who talk loudly on their mobes on the bus? Neither do I. But I do like to travel (especially to places that aren't being bombed), go to football games, watch romantic films, walk in the rain, listen to Gospel music and dance the night away. My friends would say that I'm logical, creative, diligent, independent, unpretentious, and tres intelligent. Your friends would describe you as independent, smart, practical, perceptive, straightforward, organized and a good housekeeper. I'll win your heart by being a good friend, letting you do your thing, and cooking you meals that would make Jamie Oliver jealous. You'll win mine by making me laugh, showing up with a good bottle of wine, doing the washing up, knowing every song by Bob Dylan by heart and being nice to my daughter. If any of this makes your heart beat faster write back ASAP!
Couldn't get at his credit card to take down the details so he can pay for this, but at least the hard part's done.
Abandoned the House of Horrors again for the weekend since even the Mad Cow can see that it's IMPOSSIBLE for me to revise for my A Levels with Marcella weeping and Lucrezia screaming. The MC said that as long as I was going to Sigmund's I could bring the tin of paint she promised him for doing up his kitchen. I BAULKED!!!! I said it seemed tres unlikely to me that a man who only washes up once a month is going to paint his kitchen, but she was unreasonable (as per usual!). CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? The driver wouldn't let me on the bus! He said I was carrying a HAZARDOUS ARTICLE! I said it's a tin of paint. He said precisely. Apparently, as well as guns, swords and petrol, tins of paint are now banned from buses. (Well NO ONE TOLD ME!!!!) I said just what is happening to this country when a girl can't take a tin of paint on a bus? Are we in Stalin's Russia or something? He said we're at WAR! I said we're not meant to be at war with the our own citizens. He said we are when they're transporting hazardous articles. Fortunately, the next bus I tried wasn't being driven by some eno-fascist obsessed with rules. Either that or no one told him either. So at least I didn't have to walk.
CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? Some of the parents have COMPLAINED about our mural. That's gratitude for you! We give their miserable, snotty-nosed brats (who are always asking me and Marcus if we're having sex!) the chance for creative expression and they grump because they think we're being disrespectful to the soldiers in Iraq. Marcus pointed out that one could say that the soldiers in Iraq are being disrespectful to innocent women and children by dropping bombs on them. Project abandoned. Went back to Marcus' and snogged instead of spending the afternoon cutting our hands. Have decided to forgive him for abandoning me to the constabulary on Monday. At least for the time being.
Asked Disha to ask her brother if anyone's seen Gore the Bore, since he's COMPLETELY abandoned his post outside the house. Not that I miss him. It'd be like missing a fatal skin disease. But I don't want to have his death on my conscience (even though I never did ANYTHING to encourage him except say hello). I'm trying to strive forward for spiritual, emotional and artistic growth. I don't want to be known as they girl who made Gore the Bore jump off the roof.
Have serious doubts about my relationship with Marcus lasting long enough for us to go on separate honeymoons. We're always arguing because he's so tres unreasonable and pig-headed. Today he INSISTED on going on the May Day march with The Abominable Brother. Marcus said it would be fun. I said fun is going shopping or to a party, not parading through the streets with a bunch of trade unionists and anarchists. I said what about the time the police corralled hundreds of people at Oxford Circus for eight hours? My body does not do eight hours without a toilet or a drink of water. Marcus said the police are too busy shooting innocent men on the tube to go in for that sort of thing any more. Justin had this big sign with a picture of a bunch of men, women and children in balaclavas that said something in Spanish. I said I know he's been out of the country for a while, but we have a lot of new laws to combat terrorism. He said how many times does he have to tell me that the Zapatistas aren't about terrorism, they're about freedom and democracy (apparently several thousand times). So off we went. It wasn't exactly a Prince Harry sort of party (no one was dressed as a Nazi or a Chav or drunk or anything like that), but it was all right. Everybody was in a good mood and chanting and singing and having a bit of a laugh and all. Was beginning to almost enjoy myself when Justin and Marcus decided to slope off to take pictures of the marchers and Justin handed me the sign. I didn't want to take it, of course, but he reminded me how much money I owe him (he's tres petty for someone who's meant to be so anti-materialistic, if you ask me). I hadn't gone a block when I got pulled by a couple of coppers dressed up like intergalactic storm-troopers. They wanted to know what the sign said. I said I hadn't the foggiest since I don't speak Spanish. They said it looked to them like I was GLORIFYING TERRORISTS. I said I was doing no such thing. I said the Zapatistas aren't terrorists, they're all about freedom and democracy (so even though I try v hard not to listen to anything my brother says, it obviously seeps through). I was tres worried they were going to ask me my name and realize I'm related to my grandmother, who's always getting hauled off by the police, but they let me go with a caution. Was SHATTERED. Dropped the sign in the gutter and came home. So now Justin's pissed off with me for losing his stupid sign and Marcus is pissed off with me for leaving without telling him. Apparently he spent HOURS looking for me and was worried I'd been arrested. I said AND WHOSE FAULT WOULD THAT HAVE BEEN?
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