Sinister: oh the thoughts...

[Kristin Mitchell]

This may or may not work, so hey.

I'm having a bit of a sucky day, and I feel like inflicting my suckiness
upon others. However, I can't put my finger on what makes it suck, I think
it might be my head, and my memory, and everything I think of. So that sort
of makes it difficult to inflict it upon you, you'll just have to have
sympathetic suckiness pains for me.

Moving on...

So Ken Chu survived his trip to Glasgow, and he's still posting regularly,
and Matt Henderson and Ally Cooke and Stacey whatsherface all posting as
well, and Ben Apps, and Lucy Alder... blimey. And Jay Eckard and David
Hewitt, and it's all starting to make my head spin a bit. And even Michael
"dance showdown winner" Grant, although if it were 2001, he'd probably be
about 10 years old. It feels like 2001 again. Actually, it really does feel
like 2001 again. I bumped into an old friend, from
pre-anything-related-to-B&S days, at the Winchester, and he's now on my "I'm
going to harrass you when I'm bored" list for emailing. We've been catching
up a bit, although it's always hard to try and summarise a few years or so
into one email. Although goodness knows I do try.

So onto worst injuries.

Hmm. Getting a broken collar bone was a pain in the neck (arf), particularly
because I couldn't do a great deal with myself. I had to be assisted in and
out of bed (don't get any ideas, it wasn't interesting) and assisted with
washing my hair, and assisted with putting clothes on (I managed to wriggle
out of my clothes myself, although it did take 45 minutes to do so, which
isn't great when you need toilet). It took me a wee while to develop a knack
of doing all these things myself. The thing I think I remember most about
it, was that it was my first day in a new job, and they were really
impressed with me. They'd already had a few temps come and go, and none of
them stayed more than a day, and they hoped I'd return.

As for irritating injuries. Well, there was the incident a few months ago,
where in the rush to shut my door, I tripped over the bin, and landed on my
chin, and ended up with the most incredible bruise afterwards. It took a wee
while to calm down. I ended up walking round looking like someone had drawn
me a goatee beard on my chin in permanent marker pen. Which isn't great when
you've got lots of meetings to attend. "What happened to you?" "I tripped up
over my bin".

Or the time some bloke from some band called Belle and Sebastian threw a
stick of rock into the audience (I think this wins my tweest injury ever)
and it bashed me slap on the forehead, which left me with a bruise, which
meant it hurt every time I smiled. So I learnt to scowl more. Except when I
had my photo taken for graduation, the bruise had subsided, but the pain was
still there. My gradutation photo now has me sort of with this fixed smile,
the only type I could manage.

In terms of inflicted, I think the only pain I've inflicted is - aside from
immense boredom - heartbreak. Oh no, hang on. There was the time my brother
was racing me, and because he was about to win, I tripped him up, and he
walloped his nose on a doorstep. Which meant my parents took him to hospital
to see if his nose was broken. There's all these photos of him at his third
birthday (yes, I was that cruel) with a black eye which was what he got out
of my meaness from tripping him up. He doesn't know about that though,
neither do my parents. They don't know it was me. Mind you, he only found
out a few years ago, that a toy he thought was mine, was actually his first
birthday present. I made him ask my permission before he could play with it.
It wasn't that I was an unpleasant child, I just wanted to keep him firmly
in his place. And I did incur a few bruises when protecting him in fights. I
know, I can't win you over now I've confessed my guilt. But hey, what
doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger, and he's rather strong now, so,
y'know... it all worked out. It's a shame though, because he was rather a
cute wee toddler, with such a happy outlook on life, and he seemed to do
everything I told him and looked up to me (perhaps because I was taller).
All that has changed though.

And with that, my confession, I can die and go to heaven.

Can't I?

Love

idles
xx














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