green city blues

Since Edinburgh, it's been all go here in Glasgow, first two night's at S&M's place. If my old dear think's I keep changing my plans, she should experience these folk. Mind you, they are dear people, and they do have an autistic daughter, who would drive a parent crazy. For one thing, she gets in your face and asks the same questions ad nauseam, mostly about her TV hero.

You're from Australia. Do you know Steve Irwin?
No.
Do you know Steve Irwin?
No.
Do you know Steve Irwin?
Yes!

What does Steve Irwin eat?
I don't know.
What does Steve Irwin eat?
I don't know.
What does Steve Irwin eat?
He's on a diet now.

Where does Steve Irwin sleep?
I don't know.
Where does Steve Irwin sleep?
I don't know.
Where does Steve Irwin sleep?
He's dead.

After two nights there, I was just settling in nicely as an extra family member, but my schedule said I had to move again, to C&V's place

These people generously share their swanky houses with me, but it would be even better if they could just move out and leave me in peace.

In house number two I am clearly getting on the nerves of V, the wife of my oldest friend. She seems to be playing mind games around letting me get in and out of the house. As a seasoned mind gamer myself, I'm up to the task but it does get me down.

There was some bad feeling between us right from the start when I moved in. Finding the front door open, I walked in and lay down for a nap. I woke later, and startled her when I walked in on her. Then she showed me how to use the washing machine, but she insisted I wash all my gear at 60 degrees. Seeing my hesitation, as I was reading the labels ("40 degrees") she said "are they family heirlooms or something?" So I bit the bullet and boiled my clothes. Dearie me! Will they still let me into business class with a bare midriff and plumbers' cleavage?

On the way to meet L, my friend and sensei of 25 years, at an art exhibition, I was almost feeling like redoubling the bliss pillage, but when I hit the exhibition I was transported away out of all that.

There was some imaginative use of video, in one room L sat and read a script while I watched from next door.






In the projection rooms I was able to lie down on the floor and watch the screens.








In one room, there was a 13-minute sequence of two actors screaming in each other's faces.




In the audience some people got distressed, but thanks to my family background and all the grope therapy, I found it quite relaxing, like breaking waves.



Flat on my back on the floor, I began trying to match the actors, scream for scream, but it's not as easy as you'd think. I soon got light headed and with pins and needles over my body, I gave up and lay there, spent. It certainly helped, and might be even better than bliss pills.

Update - discovered last night that V's son, whom I have known since he was a baby, probably has a very nasty disease, so her snippiness is understandable and forgiven. If anything, I could have been more understanding. Everything balances up over time if you just wait.