Padam, padam, padam!
I’ve just counted the amount of swear words in this post. Sorry Mum.
Health Check
(When we used to phone up my grandad, we’d say “hello, how are you?” then go and make a brew, hang out the washing, and then half an hour later, put the phone back up to our ears to hear the tail end of “…and it was like having an elephant standing on my ankle!”. He once phoned us up very concerned about what the “gynaecologist” had done to his toenails, and told his was seeing the “taxidermist” next week. He used to get a bit mixed up.) So regard this post as something of a family joke.)
Firstly, my eye is almost normal-looking now. Which means no more gravity-defying eye drops. (Have you ever tried to put drops inside your upper lid? I must have looked like such a sodding spanner.)
Secondly, I have a massive hangover. I feel like I’ve got caught between some poor bastard percussionist’s cymbals in the last movement of Pictures at an Exhibition! (Pom! - CRASH - Pom! -CRASH - pom, pa pa PAAM! - CRASH) you get the idea.
Thirdly, I am not going to be a mum. Not just yet anyway.
Fourthly, I have been having odd dreams. In one night I have been Oliver Hardy and Princess Diana - I kid you not. Then I was singing at another blogger’s wedding, even though I’ve never even met her (she did look lovely though. I think I should be blogging less!) Then last night I had a terribly naughty dream about a terribly sexy man, whose last words to me before I passed out for the night were “Make sure you drink lots of water dear. Love you!” I could just tell he was chuckling away, imagining my hangover today! Well dear, rest assured. I got what I deserved for trying to match a 6 foot New Zealander drink for drink.
I like culture don’t you know
I went to the communism museum yesterday. If you’re in the neighbourhood, really, don’t bother. It was quite crap and unimaginative, on the whole. By far the best bit was the footage from 1989 - at one point a newsreader read a statement denouncing protesting students as young hooligans led astray. He kept his head down as he read this, so the expression in his eyes could not be seen. A big Czech man sitting in front of me was crying as he watched the footage. I wanted to put my hand on his shoulder. He had watched the video go round at least three times.
But sadly, the place lacked atmosphere. Anyone who’s been to the Terror House museum in Budapest will know just how menacing places like this can be made. And I’m afraid, Prague, that your blackboards covered in tiny writing and a few photos just don’t cut it. Not well-designed or engaging at all. Good collection of statues and memorabilia though, and liked the photo and art exhibitions too.
There was a tour guide there who just would not shut up, his droning, droning voice was affecting my concentration. I pulled out my mp3 and wondered what music I could put on that would block him out, but not distract my mind too much. And I gave a half-smile when I found that Jez had uploaded Yann Tiersen’s complete soundtrack to Goodbye Lenin.
I really enjoy social history museums in any part of the world. In Manchester we are lucky to have the Imperial War Museum and the People’s History Museum (about Trade Unions and their role in
everything from the Spanish Civil War to the forming of the Co-operative movement). Not everyone’s idea of a fun day out, I know, but we love it. We have a very good Jewish museum housed in a Spanish and Portugese synagogue, which also runs tours around Manchester concentrating on the Jewish history of the city.
Burning ears
Last night my Jez cooked dinner for my mum and dad. I dread to think what they were talking about all evening. I wish I could remember what he said later on the phone that made me laugh til I nearly fell off my bed. I think it was something about me being a numpty. It usually is.
Don’t mind the swear words - I can’t object after I lied about the Beach Boys! -or the jibes against my ‘late lamented father’ - every word is true(tee-hee). My mum is having a laugh on her 81st birthday today. More laughs to come.
Comment by Mum — July 30, 2007 @ 3:56 pm
The eye thing sounded serious. Glad to hear it’s getting better.
As per Goodbye Lenin…I LOVED that film, but didn’t know that there was a soundtrack. Must look into that!
Comment by Kinuk — July 30, 2007 @ 4:25 pm
What did Jez cook your Mum and Dad? It’s really nice that they get on so well. Glad your eye is feeling better (if not your hungover head!) And I agree wholeheartedly about supermarket music - sometimes I just dump my shopping and leave - there are limits.
Mya x
Comment by Mya — July 30, 2007 @ 10:10 pm
Thanks Kinuk, yes it was pretty annoying and ouchy! The soundtrack is lovely and so very evocative. It is such a great film!
Mya, he cooked them something called Weeping Lamb. I asked if that was where you get a lamb and call it names and steal its ball and poke it with a stick, but he told me to stop being a numpty, Weeping is just what happens when he puts it on the grill. I said that that was even more unkind and he should be ashamed of himself. I think he hung the phone up soon after that.
Comment by missdespina — July 31, 2007 @ 8:58 am