Well it’s 745 am on a sunny Sunday morning; yesterday I gardened so today is for more tedious domestic matters, shopping for example. I woke early for once not feeling like I hadn’t actually slept; or been in an alcohol induce brawl – not that I’ve indulged in the latter you understand! Almost exactly a week ago I did fall rather spectacularly during the night; the result next day the goings on came back to me in snippets rather like ones student days when one indulged in Newcastle Brown (and yes I do remember it tasting a tad like cold tea (a beverage I can’t abide) or on occasions vodka. One rather memorable Sunday in 1987, (yes it was that long ago that I was found tramping the streets of Aberystwyth), I woke with that sinking feeling that something had happened at the Up Top Bop at the Students Union the evening before…
Indeed something had happened; something rather shameful for which one was going to have to apologise, publically. I was a fresher full of angst and anticipation; a bit of a lump of a lass in those days utterly green in and out in many ways. In preparation for a night out friends and I had had a few drinks before leaving Carpenter Hall – an all female residential facility complete with a night watch man to prevent the admission of men after 9 pm. I use the word men loosely as those guys were boys in the main; the exceptions being the more exotic ‘mature’ ones who had taken a year out before starting their university career. Looking back I want to take my then 18 year old self on one side and tell her that things would get better in time; that time largely being in places beyond the geographical boundary of Aberystwyth.
Back to that Saturday night, to the cheap vodka we imbibed with real orange juice wondering why it didn’t taste the same as it did in one of the many seafront bars; that would be because we were used to orange cordial not juice! ‘Tanked up’, or as teenagers today would say ‘preloaded’ (a phrase one understands to be contemporary parlance; colloquial street speak as it were), off we went all ‘dolled’ up (spurning my daywear of navy navvy dungarees). We may have treated ourselves to a taxi rather than hike up that long hill or perhaps ‘floated’ up on a gleeful wave of a cohort of Russian friends. My recollection is that things went ‘pears’ relatively quickly; I didn’t last long as my falling down legs showed themselves within an hour or so of arriving in the Union. Curiously the circumstances of that night chime with the night a week ago only this time without the anaesthetic effect of alcohol; oh no Cruella makes me a cheap night out these days as her numbing effect is absolutely free!
That night I fell on the dance floor banging my head in such a way as to knock out one of my contact lenses! One understands the young pre-Spinster was wrestled into a friend’s car having been manoeuvred off yeh dance floor; oh ladies the shame…the shenanigans came back as I said in bits during the course of that Sunday. In my great wisdom I felt the need to put up a notice up in the Common Room saying ‘Thank you to those who assisted me when I was seduced and abandoned by a Russian friend’! It was sometime before I put that particular episode to bed! The following year found me studying at Washington State University although I can assure you the two were not connected.
This week, as I said, one took a tumble in a half asleep state; the next day I felt a bit sore but nothing special given my current ‘spacial’ awareness – I think I’ve mentioned jabbing someone in the jaxy with the end of me crutch when emptying the trolley! In my defence when I’m trying not to fall onto the conveyor belt or into the trolley it’s quite literally a balancing act! Well this week I woke up the day after the night I saw a mark on my temple; it was a blinking carpet burn! Heaven knows how I’d missed it the day before. The last time I saw carpet burns they were along my friend’s spine after she had been indulging in carnal pleasures on a nylon carpet! She had some nasty friction burns to which she asked me to liberally apply Vaseline!
One can report that carpet burn is hard to conceal; none of these ladies magazine’s ever tell you how to dress to flatter self induced facial albeit temporary disfigurement! Thankfully a liberal application of cortisone cream has sped the process up leaving only a minor mark over my right eyebrow; so much for the graduated feathered fringe! I thought I’d done rather well at hiding it until, me being me, I decided to tell people what had happened! Without exception they all said they had noticed – one ‘helpful’ wag said ‘it just looks like you’ve had a close encounter which the (hair) straighteners! I didn’t confess that a close butchers at the (slightly pointed Mr Spockest) tip of my left ear would indeed reveal a small burn!
It occurs to me that I may need to be a little more circumspect about what I tell people as few share my sense of amusement over such matters! It brought to mind Tom and Jerry cartoons where one character trips another over resulting in one of them sliding face down across the floor. I distinctly remember starting to fall and thinking I should just relax into the carpet – in this state one is less likely to break bones the nice lady at the Falls Clinic told me!
Well the sun is shining, the blue cloudless sky calls to me ‘come outside you lazy woman; ‘tis Wales and this maybe the summer’! So I shall ‘potter’ virtually i.e. surfing in search of that elusive best deal for house and car insurance for a wee while longer. I shall not attempt to order groceries from Sainsbury’s’ any longer; motivated by the desire to spend £60 to then save £12 at the checkout – this fruitless exercise has already greedily gobbled up 45 minutes of my life that I shall NEVER get back!
One has decided to take control and stop being too generous with my time thereby allowing my whole week to be squandered by the poor planning of others! Irritatingly two such persons were medical ‘professionals’ of the Specialist kind; referred by an equally decorative Consultant – (whose Christian name smacks of a private education akin to Mr Cameron) –to discuss a ‘procedure’ that may help manage one of Cruella’s special powers i.e. MS symptoms. The two blue uniformed ladies seemed to be in a manic state of end-of-shift frivolity which was disarmingly bemusing; lulling one into a receptive state of politeness. The next sentence that popped out of one of their mouths was ‘we’re not going to lie to you we don’t know anything about this procedure; in fact we don’t even do it in Cardiff, you’d have to go to Swansea for it!’
After ten minutes or so of trying to find someone who might be familiar with said procedure they regrouped having left me waiting alone in the ante room. No one could be found so they told me all about a rather more intrusive surgical procedure that frankly seemed a bit extreme at this point! I asked a smattering of insightful questions – embarrassingly including one relating to whether one procedure could mean I’d lose weight! The answer was that a side effect might indeed be shrinking but only after potentially becoming deficient in essential minerals! Supplements would be needed; deep joy yet more pills to swallow!
Oh what another utter waste of time; again so accustomed to this health ‘care’ system the Spinster said thank you, requested that the information packs including samples be sent by post on account of them being rather large and ‘hurried’ off to the second Women in Pregnancy performance! I had a reception to organise for heaven’s sake… seeing as you’re ‘asking’ the World Premiere of Gravida went rather well!