Rings

I am still wondering about the moon. I'm not a day person so, for me, the sun can really cease to exist. I don't like it, it burns my skin. The moon is so much more forgiving, you can even look at it and not go blind. And night-time for me, is when life really starts. No I am not a night party junkie. I never was. My idea of a good night out has always been some non-alcoholic cocktail, followed by dinner, or watching 3 movies in a row armed with a fresh popcorn supply each time, or perhaps the theatre, or opera, but it's difficult to get to sit down and watch an opera when you're a musician because so very much often then not you're engaged in it. And there's one word for me, engaged. It's all about love suddenly turning serious, and for the ones who love diamonds, they're finally getting the rock on their finger. But engaged is also plastered on toilet doors, and my guess is there's no sparkling rock happening in there. I have been engaged, plenty of times, each time the rock graduating itself to a higher level. And I love diamonds. But I hate engagement rings. Perhaps because it's something which shows you're taken, when really nobody ever gets taken. We are still the same person we decide to be. So, in future I will never get engaged, but of course I'll want the diamond. Just the rock on any finger works our fine for me, especially if it's an 8 carat. But still without the office of it. And then come wedding rings which are so plain that they make the shiny mineral look hideous. And you're stuck with it all your life. Oh God. With fashion changing every season, wouldn't a girl want to change her ring just as often? And what exactly is there to shout about a plain gold/platinum band? Nothing. When I decide to get married, which will probably be soon; as soon as I push myself one last bit, there will be no bland ring. How about a whole stack of them? That's a better idea.

Lunatic

Today I walked out the door with blazing red hair, and rain to dampen it for good. Thankfully hair dye doesn't run or I'd been transformed into a Labour Party hopeful. As it happened, I put a brave face and went to school, which right now is one big celebration for Christmas. Which for a Christmas freak like me is very very nice, but which can also prove to be difficult. I was also amazed at the throngs of mums, dad, mum's boyfriends, dad's girlfriends, dad's boyfriends (that too), nannu, nanna, probably even a buznanna. I also met an old schoolfriend and as usual I committed the ultimate gaffe. I thought she was a parent. Wrong, she's a nanna! At 35??? Which made me feel very inappropriate and confused and what the hell not. Anyway I'm now in a little spot hiding from the rest of the cheer, with my laptop. And this is much better. Because I don't have to pretend how over the moon I am feeling. Because I still haven't found the moon in the first place. Incidentally I wonder who coined up the word lunatic in the first place. What does lunar have to do with lunatic? To me lunatic means a man/woman who lives on the moon. Or at the very least, a man/woman who was at least once on the moon. So since I have never holidayed on the moon I can never be a lunatic. Cool. I'll remember that for future purposes.

So anyway, I decided that during the little spare time I had to get away from kids all in tinsel and white, and red noses, I'd be going shopping. For the booze, meaning nothing for me. But I so liked putting loads of bottles on the counter, I just couldn't stop. And half of the stuff I never ever saw in my life may I add. Judging by the total amount I ran up in 20 minutes, I thought the shop owner would be calling the AA on me. Strange thing, people were ready to give me their place in the queue because this poor woman (me) had so much to handle. And yes that much was true, I did have quite a lot to handle. And then just as the cash register clocked in on the terrible amount, I was handed a glass with transparent liquid in. Which of course I politely refused and explained that I don't drink, which in turn got me a look of... who the hell are you trying to kid with a full trolley of booze? Oh well stranger things have happened. So I just made a quick exit because I suddenly became so conscious that I wasn't part of the group just because I never do alcohol. It's a strange relationship there is between me and alcohol. It doesn't even exist. Of course I have alcohol in the house, quite a lot of it, just for when guests come knocking. But I never ever give them a second look. They're nothing interesting like jewellery. I don't know where this stems from but it's always been so. If people were all like me, the AA could close shop. Which got me thinking. Had I been buying a trolley-full of chocolate, would the reaction have been the same? Would anybody have offered me a chocolate? I guess not. For so many reasons. The thing is I would have refused anyway, for the same kind of reasons among which dieting is not present.

Anyway I've got to go back to the last round of Christmas cheer. If I hear the word Rudolph another time I'm throwing up. If I hear Jingle Bells again... I think I'm going to become a lunatic, which means, I'm taking a trip to the moon.