Gibberish

[smokingboot]

I used to invent languages when I was a kid, and it's just as well, cos there are no existing words to describe today; this is what glossolalia is for; I need an invented word to get it across, a combination of syllables and gestures. The gesture entails putting both your hands up to your face covering your eyes and then forming a kind of praying shape which entirely hides your nose and mouth while you rock backwards and forwards repeatedly chanting 'Oeneeng! OEoneeeeeng!' and as the day gets worse and worse, you shorten it to 'Ooon! Ooon!' or even 'Eeeng! Eeeng!' And it kind of means, the end has come and I had no idea it was going to be like this, Or, the end has come and I have decided to turn into a snail.


But OK, all done.

OK, not all done, but important stuff done, email working again, much sorted. If there is something about the important stuff I have forgotten, tell me before I sink into my bath. It will be hot and bubbly, and may be assisted by something cold and bubbly.

Nothing cold and bubbly in the house. Of course. I just had sausages in cider gravy. Barely tasted them. Right now I am the very spirit of speedfreakery, and I must slow, I must stop.


Because I so want a slow gentle dissolving, a flow into the trance-like state I was in last Thursday and Friday. See, to get me back to normal, I am going to remind myself of some of the very nice things that have happened to me since last week. One biggie was a 24 hour conversation with the inimitable cyanidemigraine. When I lived in London, late night chats with chums were a big part of my life; people would just pop round and we would talk all night. I loved it and have missed it. Thursday into Friday was pretty special; sleep deprivation and excellent company are a great combination. Some things are beyond describing, so I am back to glossolalia again; the whole thing was Lalthaia-harim. Whereas bytepilot's visit yesterday evening was just terrific. Some friendships grow and stuff happens and people learn and change, but quintessentially stay as daft as they ever were. It's great. We were totally bappanbokkuba-ba. Can't be good for us.

Other things?

Out of nowhere, a letter from a publishing company that owes me money talking about paying me! This is so outlandish, I must have made it up. Maybe I sent myself the email from an internet cafe in Babylon. I'm not sure anymore.

Listening to Under Milk Wood for the first time; this was the version narrated by Richard Burton. I have used my eyes so much recently moving from page to screen and back again; I needed to close them and just listen. Dylan Thomas and Richard Burton were not a popular combination in our house; my mother, tolerant in so many ways, could not find it in her heart to approve 'words written by a drunk spoken by a drunk'. Bless her, she suffered too much from a drunk and verbose husband of her own to want to hear their poetry; so it has taken many years and a very cleverly thought present from larians parents to bring it to my attention. I am glad they did. It glimmers on the ear, and I found myself fading in and out of it like a tide. Any fool can invent language; to take the familiar and make it magical, that is art.

More work. Yes, dull, but so very handy.

And other stuff I cannot possibly recount here.


Finally, my letter to the local rag regarding the beast of Saddleworth Moor has made it into the letters column. Nature seems to beset our community with menace; This week's front page headline exposed the scandal of a 17th century viaduct being demolished by a hoodlum community of water-voles. Man, it's tough, living on the edge.

Comments

[squeezypaws.livejournal.com]

I too am in a OEoneeeeng state of mind and fantasising about hiding in the bath I shall have later.

[smokingboot.livejournal.com]

Had the bath. It didn't work! My nerves are still flapping around trying to tell my hands what to do. Am tempted to pluck my eyebrows, but there's just too much scope for disaster...

[velvet-the-cat.livejournal.com]

Step away from the eyebrows... you already know it's a bad idea! ;o)
0

[velvet-the-cat.livejournal.com]

Step away from the eyebrows... you already know it's a bad idea! ;o)

[velvet-the-cat.livejournal.com]

Errr, twice apparently! What happened there then?

[smokingboot.livejournal.com]

Lj being naughty? It's been playing up again recently, though I thought its favourite jape was the old disappearing post trick. YOu are right about the eyebrows though - they need a little shaping, but not when I'm in a frenzy!

[semyaza.livejournal.com]

Would it be horribly rude of me to say that--damn, I overcooked my soft-boiled egg--vanishing feline beasts are the English yeti and it astonishes me that anyone still believes in them? Untamed nature, red in tooth and claw. Hmph. Surely a bobcat would go for the rabbit population first. Cougars, of course, prefer small children and people on bicycles.

*Gasp of dismay*

[smokingboot.livejournal.com]

You don't believe in yetis?

That's one of the things about the island; having civilised so much of it into comfotable banality we still dream of the hidden land where the wild things are. I hope it's true. We have no shortage of rabbits for the feeding of said wild things. Around here of course, they all get terribly antsy about the lambing season, though as I pointed out in the letter, damage from dogs and foxes is a lot more likely than from a bobcat.

I love cougars, but you don't get them up here. They're all hanging around Sussex where old ladies feed them the remnants of local children.

Re: *Gasp of dismay*

[semyaza.livejournal.com]

I believe there's a panther near Carmarthen, or so my friends tell me. We have cougars here, of course; they favour the university as the grounds are frequented by deer, rabbits and children from the daycare centre. The latter is right at the edge of a forest known as Mystic Vale. *pushes the little Hansels and Gretels towards the shelter of the trees*