So.
MindReader is moving in.
You may have known this.He starts his Proper Lawyer Job on 1st September which was when we were supposed to get a flat in the City together.
My Body is spoilt brat and has prevented this.
Since MindReader lives in Shropshire, commuting to work is not really okay, he is moving in here!
On Sunday.
There has been over a year of horrible long distance and it's about to end, hurrah!
He's been moving stuff over slowly for the past few weeks. It is nice, to merge lives, to find mysterious hair gelling products and odd clothes all over my room that smell of him. He will see me cut my toe nails and jumping in the shower with him will no longer be something I do on weekends. Eee!
Last night I (scarily) watched him sleep, and as I looked at the hairs on his chest (strangely dark, not blond), the lopsided smile he wears in his sleep, an arm strewn lazily across his body, I thought
I could look at him forever. This, I thought, is love.
So I used today's and tomorrow's energy, sorting our room out. OUR room!!
Our bed!
His and hers cosmetics (more hers than his...)
What MindReader is currently reading
Labels: living in sin, MindReader
"Oh Lady," MindReader says, rubbing my belly. Ever since I made him watch Lady and the Tramp on one rainy Monday we have taken to imitating it.
"He's lost his sense of smell," MindReader says, miming scratching his ears. "Aye Laddy," he says, switching to imitating the Scottish dog.
"Have you considered being a Lady and the Tramp imitator?" I say.
"I can't do them all," MindReader says. "I can't do - what's his name - scamp?"
"Which one?"
"The one Lady end up with?"
I giggle. "Tramp?"
I pause. "There's a clue in the question," I say.
"Oh my God," he says, "so there is."
Labels: blonde moments, MindReader
This weekend I have:
* Been to the CINEMA. And, it was such a foreign experience for me that I had to look around to see if normal people sat up straight or rested their heads on the headrests. I don't know what's normal!
* Been to the PUB. For an hour.
* Been SHOPPING and got stuck in a dress. That I then bought. Because I realised it had a zip you could undo.
This is the sort of picture text message
MindReader receives. He was smirking rather a lot when I emerged and bought the dress.
At the pub
At the cinema :)
Labels: illness, MindReader
"I sat on my glasses," I say to MadFather, pouting.
He takes the glasses off me and bends the arms for a while. "Any better?" he says.
I put them on again. "They're less crooked," I say, "but for some reason I can't see very clearly out of them."
"Oh," he says, taking back the glasses and fiddling some more. "Now?" he says.
"Hm," I say. "They feel totally normal but everything is blurred."
MadFather's face cracks into a smile. "Do you have your contact lenses in Billygean?"
"Oh," I say. "Maybe."
Labels: blonde moments, Dad, embarrassing
BestFriend from Law School is sitting opposite me. I have not seen her since results' night over a year ago, where we drank pints of wine and danced with no shoes on.
Since then, she has stroked Lions in Africa, gone tubing in Laos, got her roots done in Sydney, met an American in LA and travelled around Mexico with him.
And I've - well - you know.
"I can't believe this has happened to you," she says, pushing back the beads that adorn her wrists. Her hair has gone bright
blonde.
"Yes, well," I say, "I'm getting better now."
"But still - it's
awful," she says, and it is nice to hear. It is sometimes much better than 'stay positives' and 'but you can do more, now.'
"I know," I smile. "We'll be doing the
LPC at the same time next year too, now," I say.
"God yeah."
"We've had quite different gap years," I say quietly.
"Same result though," she says.
"
Hmm?"
"Oh you know, development, sense of self, emotional progress."
"You think?"
"Definitely," she says, putting her tea down and looking directly into my eyes. "I don't think I could cope with what you've had to. Trust me, you'll be glad it happened one day. Trust me."
And I do.
Labels: illness
"So," I say to MindReader. We are lying in bed. Post coital conversations are my speciality. "What's going on with Russia?"
He had mentioned Russia when having a Serious Discussion with MadFather earlier.
"Well," he says, as I shift closer to him, my head on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around my shoulders. "This mole - freckle -"
"I think it's a
cafe au lait," I say.
"Okay," he says, pointing to my upper arm again. "This - mark - is Ossetia. North Ossetia is in Russia and South Ossetia is in Georgia," he says, drawing a line across my skin.
He continues talking, making complicated patterns on my arm.
He is my family, I think.
***
"Morning," MadFather says.
"Hello," I say, flopping onto the sofa. "Ah," I say, nodding to the news, "Russia."
"Yep," he says. "Know what's going on?"
"Yes," I say, rolling up my sleeve.
"What are you doing?"
Labels: MindReader
"I was telling my Mum about your situation," BestFriend says. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound like you're -
pregnant."
I laugh. "Oh no, it's fine. What were you telling her?"
"Just about your illness, and how MadFather's lost his job and is a bit depressed..."
"Ah," I say. "That."
"Yes. Anyway, she asked whether your mum was around and I was like - can of worms - but basically no, she left ages ago. And she's bonkers."
I laugh again. "True."
"And you know what she said?"
"Hmm?"
"She said it just sounds like you need someone to - you know - look after you. Without anything in return. So you stop feeling guilty."
The sentence is so true that the air stills around it. Tears well into my eyes and spill into the bath.
"In an ideal world," I say.
Labels: illness
MindReader and I are sitting on bales of hay that are probably full of spiders. I am maintaining that while it was me who suggested a day (40 minutes) out at a petting zoo, it was him who saw the lambs were being bottle fed and suggested we go and join in.
"So which boys and girls want to feed the lambs?" the loud and annoying farm lady says.
I exchange a wry smile with MindReader. The phrase
boys and girls makes it slightly difficult to go and join in.
And then. And THEN -
"Who wants to sing a song?"
I am dying inside. This is probably not what MindReader wanted to spend his annual leave doing. What will all the other lawyers say?
"Baa baa black sheep -"
"There's only one thing for it," I say, pulling MindReader up and dashing out of the barn, negotiating lambs and sheep and pushing past toddlers.
Labels: embarrassing, illness, MindReader
