h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

So, on Thursday I should be heading westward to see Suz.

Not wise finacially. Not wise given that her sister made much protest over the suggestion. And apparently her mother has said I'm 'anti-me' or some such nonsense about not liking her. I don't know that her brother much cares what I do.

I don't like feeling I'm being judged. It leads to me either getting withdrawn or irritable.

Earlier I had lots and lots of paranoid ideas about what would happen if I went and why Suz might be wanting me to come. [Y'know the kinda thing Suz, has only been pretending to like me so she can get me down there in order to subject me some terrible humiliation in the hope I'll kill myself*]
And thoughts that Suz would clearly be happier if I didn't go and wasn't in her life because I'm a fat fahkd up fahkwyt piece of scum with no more right to live of god's green earth than a weasel.

So, as unwise as it might or mightn't be I am going down regardless because Suz says she would like me to and because I absolutely want to go in be in her company.** And. It might be fun to get her sister really peeved at me.


*this is reflection on me NOT Suz's character!

**this IS a reflection on Suz's character!

all you can do is go and see how it goes

Ohh, yeah! Go! Have good times! Be happy!

Just what I intend to do.

Have a great time

Have fun! As for the weasels, well, most weasels are happy creatures who would go if you suggested they shouldn't exist!

zdt

I was abusing a Blackadder quote:
"Well, of course you're worried. It's not every day a man wakes up to find he's a screaming bender with no more right to live on God's clean earth than a weasel - ashamed of yourself?"
"Not really, no."
"Bloody hell, I would be. Oh well, suppose it just means more rampant totty for us real men, eh?"

Have fun!

Weasels are cool. They detect evil slaver wasps.

http://www.girlgeniusonline.com/cgi-bin/ggmain.cgi?date=20060315
http://www.girlgeniusonline.com/cgi-bin/ggmain.cgi?date=20060317

Hope it went well

On Sunday I was feeling really stressed. For a number of reasons none of which I am particulaly inclined to expand upon the specifics of. I just wanted to go a for walk, to get out of a situation and environment that was giving me a migrane and producing a profound sense that my life is empty sham of wasted time, space and energy and other shame inducing thoughts and feelings.
Suz doesn't much care for going for walks - so, whilst she was apparently taking a nap - I went out with my CD player and a book and took myself off to Somerfield where they have a this water feature type thing which makes a nice running water sound that which I though be a soothing sound to have on in the background behind Tool's Undertow album. I found I couldn't really get into the book, I was just feeling too crappy.
So, I just sat and listened to the music and water.
And then Suz turns up.
Upon prompting I let out an 'I justed needed to... relax'. Then a little while after, I, in hushed tones comment on a passing man's resemblence to Harold Shipman. I then feel the need to repeat myself. And again I repeat myself, hushed tone gone this time. Thusly, I get a look and as much to myself and as much to sky and as much to life as to anybody else, I let out a 'Oh just ing forget it!'. Yet another lame attempt at conversation flops down dead...
And then Suz stomps off angry at me.
I watch her go and then rise to buy the fags I didn't buy when I went out for painkillers earlier. I had been feeling on the verge crying too long and had been binge-eating earlier and comfort eating for most of the stay, which was response to stress that only compounded the stress. I've not really done such for a while, hence the loss of 9 kilos over the past several weeks.

Suz had the first part of her tattoo done today. Tis a beautiful thing for beautiful person. The guy that put it on is quite cool himself. I took some pictures of it going on for her. It was fun and interesting seeing it done. Which was a rather nice way to end a stay that Sunday aside went reasonably well.

I will interpret this as *most* things were well, and the Sunday was a temporary down.

I'm glad the tattoo will be nice!
I worry too much what a tattoo will look like on an old woman (I will be one eventually I hope) to get one. And I couldn't choose anyway...

There'll always be ups and downs in a relation, so all in all it sounds as if it went rather well.
As for tattoos - I thought of having one, but am too scared of the poisonous colours and possible infections and whatnot, and like Milla, I wonder how ugly it will look on old skin, so I guess I'll not have a permanent tattoo after all.

My mother and a lot of her friends have tattoos. They look fine on old skin.

Hmmm - how old is your mother?

She's only 54 (45, if you ask her!), but several of her biker friends are in their sixties.

Well, in that case...





... I'm just chicken!

sounds like, apart from one day, it went well I'm sure it will get easier as time goes on. It's a strain for both of you.

Every time I go to stay with my bro (and I know it's not the same thing), we tend to have one belly-laugh and one five-minute, out-of-the-blue row.

I'm too indecisive to get a tattoo. Where to put it? What to have? So I'll probably never get one.

There was one woman who was writing a novel in tattoo form. It's probably written by now. Each word is tattooed on a different person, in a book-font of their choice. I think I'd have signed up for that, if I'd known about it in time.

54 - that would leave me with just ten years before I'd have a tattoo on old skin - no thanks

I was thinking a baphomet in a an inverted pentagram with something vaguely esoteric an unique written around the circumfrence or a spartan helmet or shield over the scars on my left forearm. Thing is The Church Of Satan uses the baphomet as their "corporate logo". And the first thing Suz said when I showed her some Spartan helmets was 'They're scary' or words to that effect.
Which kinda leaves me with five-pointed stars and simple pentagrams and pentacles. Or maybe a voodoo handbag.