Wellbeing Group and the Marmite soldier

Straight into the Wellbeing Group today – 9.30am is way too early for a meeting, let alone a Monday morning meeting. I’ve really felt quite low most of the day actually. Drained and shattered. Lord knows why. Oh and I have stiff neck & back syndrome. Moan, groan – sorry. Anyway, the meeting was quite impassioned (I agreed with the views of the most impassioned people) and almost impossible to minute with any degree of honesty, so we’re going to rely on bullet points and a cunning summary. That’s the plan anyway.

Afterwards, I nipped into the Students’ Union and picked up one of the spare tee-shirts from the recent “Know Yourself” wellbeing campaign. Nice design on a decent black shirt, so my idea of perfect, really. This lunchtime, I did steward cover for the gallery sound & vision exhibition. Unfortunately, it was way too loud to sit in the room for long with any degree of comfort so when Jo (gallery co-ordinator) returned, we tried to turn the sound down. Hmm. Bad move. This resulted in the whole thing switching off so nobody could see/hear anything. Bummer. Thank God no-one was actually in the gallery at the time. Ah well. Jo and I had a nice chat anyway, and decided that if anyone came in we'd pass ourselves off as living sculptures. Could make a fortune if we tried ... Still, she’s hoping to call the sound engineers later on. No rush though – this was obviously not the University’s most popular exhibition.

And I’ve written a piece of flash fiction for the next Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) Flash Fiction II group challenge, which has to incorporate the words: horny, devil and Marmite:

‘What the devil are you doing with that?’ Algernon asked as he strode into the living room. ‘And what is it anyway?’
Felicity shrugged nonchalantly. ‘This, darling? It’s Marmite. Surely your mother must have given it to you when you were young?’
She bit into her toast, full red lips closing with a firm crunch on the salty darkness.
‘Well, yes, darling,’ Algernon replied, feeling the tightness in his shirt collar. ‘I just hadn’t … eaten it whilst … naked … before.’
‘Really?’ Felicity said. ‘Doesn’t it make you feel horny? Anything salty is best experienced naked, my love.’

Hmm, never did like Marmite - my mother put me off for life by spreading it on like jam. Scary.

Tonight, Lord H is doing his GM presentation for the theology class, so is very twitchy today. He hates doing these things, but actually I think he’s good at them – especially when he knows the subject and can relax into it more. But I’ve got him some chocolate buttons (his favourite) – a packet for before to calm his nerves and a packet for afterwards to celebrate the fact that it’s over. So I may well regain my Wife Points after the Great Flapjack Disaster of yesterday – you never know …

Oh, and Lord B-I-L (http://www.peterandsusan.co.uk/blogs/petersblog.asp) appears very kindly to have put an entry for me on the Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_brooke) site, so thank you very much for that, L.B-I-L – much appreciated! It’s almost like being a proper writer, you know …

Tonight, I think I’ll catch up on some video viewing and also watch Part Two of the adaptation of Andrew Taylor’s (http://www.andrew-taylor.co.uk) marvellous “Fallen Angel” trilogy. I won’t be able to see Part Three, darn it, but it’s still great viewing.

Today’s nice things:

1. Getting a free tee-shirt
2. Chatting with Jo in the Gallery
3. Being on Wikipedia.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk

Blood, Falling and the Gas Man

Up at the crack of dawn (lucky dawn) this morning in order to get to the hospital blood clinic. I had imagined this would take several days and would be accompanied by a surly, snarling nurse. In the event, I arrived at the hospital 20 minutes before it opened at 9am, took my ticket at 8.44am, was seen by said surly, snarling nurse at 8.46am and was in the car on my way home by 8.55am. So much for my NHS assumptions and prejudices. It almost makes me want to sign the petition to Save the Royal Surrey County Hospital, which I have to admit I have not yet done, as all my most horrendous and tearfully crushing experiences have taken place in that ruddy hospital, and that's not even when I've been visiting someone else. Up until today, I've been quite happy at the thought that they plan to close it and bus us all to Frimley or make us pay for Mount Alvernia (private hospital which is wonderful and so clean). Now, I'm not so sure ... (although of course that's not what I've been saying to people if they ask me, wimp and coward that I am). We'll see.

The rest of the day has been spent typing up my latest additions to "The Gifting" and reading the wonderful "Falling" by ML Rhodes (http://www.myspace.com/mlrhodeswriting) which arrived today and which has been so utterly gripping that I've had to finish it. Which has put a gaping hole in my own writing plans, I have to say! It's a novel just up my street (as it were): erotic gay fantasy with a great plot and two excellent main characters. I hope there's a sequel as, if there is, my money is certainly ready and waiting. Oh and the sex was hot too. More graphic than my own gay writing, but hey a girl's got to push the boundaries sometimes, eh?!

In the middle of it all, the gas man arrived to service my boiler (no, that is not a metaphor - steady, people, steady ...). He said he'd be here between 12noon and 6pm, so I assumed the earliest would be 6.30pm. In the event, he turned up at 12.30, thus blowing my assumptions out of the water once more. Has the world gone crazy? Am I in the twilight zone? While he was here, he also said that our boiler is so old it's virtually a collectible, but that it was made in the days when men were men and women were cooking so it'll probably outlast us. So there's little point in succumbing to the lure of a modern flimsy boiler - though he did admit that wasn't what he was supposed to say. Still, I liked his honesty so much that I donated two chocolate cookies to the British Gas Hunger Fund and everyone was happy. Hurrah.

And the lovely Julia (http://greatleveller.blogspot.com) has kindly given me a mention in her blog as she's reading "Pink Champagne and Apple Juice" (http://www.goldenford.co.uk) - and in the same breath as Jane Austen too! I'm speechless - for once. Thanks, Julia. Must rush and get my bonnet just now ...

Tonight, I've got counselling at 7.15pm as Kunu couldn't make this morning. And having planned my hospital visit, I would have been panicking about it too - though in the event I could have got there with time to spare for shopping. It'll be good to see her, but I do hate (a) having my routine screwed, and (b) going out in the evenings. God, but I need to see a counseller then. Obviously ...

Oh, and today I am wearing the skirt that Lord H bought me from Orvis (http://www.orvis.co.uk). It's lovely. I must buy more when I next feel up to it. Just thought I'd mention it as I so rarely wear skirts. Maybe the 40s will be my most female decade after all? Either that or the Jane Austen effect is working ... You never know.

Today's nice things:

1. The quick blood test
2. The honest gas man
3. Reading "Falling".

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com

Counselling and the imaginary gay male

Another session of counselling with Kunu this morning. Actually I felt quite positive. We talked a lot about writing, about Michael and even got onto mentioning Paul (from "Maloney's Law") and Simon from "The Gifting". It's funny how I can know exactly what was happening for me at the time of writing them simply by looking at my strange line of imaginary gay males and their story. For instance, Michael is the screwed-up, desperately needy one (and God, what a year-and-a-half that was for me too), then the next one along is Paul, who's possibly even needier, but who covers it well with a nice dose of dry wit and the innate ability to grow (I felt better that year). Now, there's Simon who has a hell of a time at the beginning of his story, but who now finds himself on a journey to somewhere better - though he doesn't know where yet - and, even though he's shit-scared, is actually beginning to enjoy it. Lord alone knows where we go next. It's also interesting that now I've got Michael in the world beyond my own head, I'm beginning to focus more on Paul once more. Anyone fancy giving a publishing home to a good-looking gay PI who's obsessed with his ex-lover, has a bitter secret in his past and an almost Asperger's ability to calculate time? He can laugh at himself too ...

Anyway, Kunu and I have come to the conclusion that I am having a better week because I've actually managed to communicate with the outside world (by means of Michael) in a meaningful (I hope) way, and that astonishingly I'm getting positive feedback in return - which is making all the bloody difference. Ye gods though, if I am getting my personal validation from good reviews, I am obviously far more desperate than even I had realised. Must go back to those "self-esteem and how to find it" lessons ... And God help me when the bad reviews turn up. Argh!

We also talked about clothes - my £400 Orvis spend has turned up and I love every single one of my new items. I'm even wearing my new blue and white jumper now - it's ace. I think actually that now Michael is free (or freer) from me, I feel I can (a) buy nice clothes, and (b) wear different earrings. God, I'm so psychotic I probably have more issues than Paul. It's as if all this time I've been waiting. Oh, hang on, I'm getting muddled - that last sentence is actually from "Maloney's Law". I remember it well. Bloody hell, I'm plagiarising myself. Ah well, you read it here first.

At home, I discover that my copies of "A Dangerous Man" (http://www.flamebooks.com) have actually turned up - hurrah! So I can send out my copies to (a) Clayton (http://www.myspace.com/dwbsoho) who has apparently trashed his version of PayPal (well done, Clayton! I tried that once, but they got stroppy with me; they obviously have more respect for you), (b) Gary at Independent Authors (http://www.independentauthors.co.uk) in case he can sell any, and (c) the Apsley Guise Scout Association (no, don't laugh - they want a copy for their charity auction even though I have explained what ADM is about and that Michael isn't really suitable, unless the Scouts are much, much changed from what they used to be ...). So I have packaged items as if it were an Olympic sport and will post them tomorrow.

And, at the same time, Jennifer from Goldenford (http://www.goldenford.co.uk) tells me that she needs copies of my books and a few flyers for the market they're holding in Guildford on Tuesday. I shall have to see if I can pop in tomorrow morning, or Monday night, as I'm on retreat in Bristol this weekend, so shall be out of contact until Sunday night. When I won't really be arsed to get in a car - with or without books - and drive anywhere. If I don't hear from her, I'll try ringing tonight, as I'd rather squeeze it into tomorrow morning's schedule than have to do it after work. Monday night is always, if at all possible, spent at home. I cannot make any kind of bid for sanity otherwise ...

Oh, and I've popped into see Gladys too - who is quite bright today and enjoying the daffodils. She's quite worried about her cat though, as she fears they might take Dolly (said cat) away from her. Seems unnecessarily cruel to me. Dolly's no trouble. Can't she ring Old People's Line about this sort of thing? If the Powers That Be do decide to steal poor Dolly, I will round up the usual suspects and cat-nap the damn moggy back for her. Godalming: The Cat Wars. It would probably make a good film.

Tonight, I will start packing (otherwise I will get twitchy). No, that's a lie. I shall be twitchy anyway as I hate being away from home and Lord H. Travel, of any kind, is just not natural. God knows why people insist on doing it. But I know I need to get away to think & regroup (me and my imaginary men), and I think now is a good time to do it.

Today's nice things:

1. Counselling
2. Copies of ADM arriving
3. Thinking about writing.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com

Papers and purchases

Up at the crack of dawn today as foolishly (why, oh God, why?) I'd booked a visit from my hairdresser at 8.15am. Even managed to get Lord H out of the bath by then, which is a miracle in itself. Not, of course, that he was driven to trying to stay where he was by the thought of a glamorous, curvy brunette discovering him naked in the bathroom, oh sir, me, sir? oh sir, no sir. Far be it from me even to suggest such a thing. Anyway, poor Lynda arrived in a terrible state, which isn't surprising bearing in mind she had to put up with the mother-in-law from hell over Christmas. What is it with these bitchy women? Why do they have to be so horrid? Suffice it to say that if Lynda had put something nasty in her tea and not bothered to phone for an ambulance, I would have been (a) not judgemental and (b) happy to provide a character reference. A thought for next year perhaps?

Post-being suitably coiffed for the outside world, I nipped round an icy Godalming and actually bought some clothes. Shocking news indeed - as clothes shopping is such a heartless trauma usually. But there's something about our particular version of the Edinburgh Woollen Mill which is a million times more classy than any other EWM I've ever been in. It even has jazzy stuff for the under 80s. Phew. So I bought (wait for it ...) one jazzy jumper, a navy men's shirt (for me - boys' stuff always suits me better) and (argh!) two fluffy cardigans. Which are very nice, thank you, and will at least keep me warm during these bitter winter months. I must remember to call them "soft jackets" though, when I try to explain to Lord H - as he has a pathological hatred of the cardigan. Am looking out for my Saga invitation any day now, however ...

And a great miracle has occurred locally. The Surrey Advertiser has real news that I even want to read in it this week. Hurrah. No, double hurrah! - this hasn't happened at all before in my thirteen years of living in Surrey. Oh, apart from the time it carried a picture of me and my first poetry book. My one claim to fame, eh? But today, it is packed with information about (a) National Rabbit Week (http://www.nationalrabbitweek.co.uk) local events, (b) the filming of an episode of the classic Midsomer Murders at Loseley House, and (c) St Peter's new vicar, Paul Jenkins, and his plans for the parish. Riches indeed. Hmm. Interesting that I didn't feel able to type "our church" in the last item - as it definitely doesn't feel like that any more. But also interesting that he's planning a quiet day sometime during the year, and that's something I might even be up for attending. We'll see.

For the rest of the morning, I scribbled down another 1000 words of "The Gifting" - I'm just getting to an important turning point when Johan finally tells Simon the purpose of the journey they're on, a revelation which will, I hope, change Simon's world view. And this afternoon, I typed them all up onto the computer. Hey, writing can be fun. I'd forgotten that.

And I was just about to get myself ready for a round of golf when Marian rang to say she couldn't make it as her granddaughter was sick, which meant a trip to the nursery to retrieve her. Poor thing - every child I know seems to be down with something at the moment. Have to say I was quite relieved not to have to face the chill on the course though. We'll be playing golf as a foursome on Sunday so I hope to God it warms up by then.

I've also used my SAD light for the first time - goodness me, how strong it is. Hope it does me some good eventually - but I have to admit I spent a large part of the afternoon churning with writers' jealousy at the fact that my fellow writers are suddenly producing new books and getting new deals like nobody's business. Deep and heartfelt sigh. Will it ever be my turn? D'you know, sometimes it would be sooooo good if I could just go for one moment into my future and see if my writing life ever does get going in a commercial sense, or whether mainly locally available books is to be my lot in life. I almost wouldn't mind either way (almost, mind!) - but the not knowing is very destructive. And yes, I know (from reading Susan Jeffers' "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway") that this type of thinking means I am severely lacking in personal qualities and self esteem, and that I am not Taking Control of My Own Life. But, hey, tell me something I didn't know, eh? I do really think that if only Flame Books would contact me and tell me something (anything, chaps, anything - even what you bought at the shops last week will do!!) about how the publishing schedule (if there is one indeed) for "A Dangerous Man" is going, then I would feel so incredibly differently about stuff. I did, as a matter of (desperate!) interest, look at the contract I signed last April recently, and it says that they promise to publish within six months, without fail. Hmm. As that was October 2006, it doesn't fill me with much confidence, I have to say. So, I continue as ever to languish in the Flame Pit of Hell - with my fellow-submitters, Jonathan and Julie, close at my heels. Will ADM even be published in 2007? I'm not placing bets.

For the rest of the afternoon, I've had a wonderful nap, all warm and cosy on the sofa with my dressing gown, my pillow, my cuddly hedgehog and the heating on. Bliss. Tonight, Lord H is out at the practice for the induction of the new priest at St Peter's (see - still can't say "our church" ...) on Sunday. Yes, there has to be practice - it will involve incense swinging and they don't want anyone to die. It's a tricky manoeuvre. And, no, I won't be going - couldn't bear the amount of people and general bonhomie, frankly.

Tonight, I'm doing sod all. Hurrah. Though I really will have to clean something. One day.

Today's nice things:

1. Getting a haircut
2. Buying clothes
3. Writing.

Anne Brooke
http://www.annebrooke.com
http://www.goldenford.co.uk