I was in the Oxfam Book Shop earlier - one of the strange people that work there ( and when I say strange - I'm not referring to anyone who has a disability or impairment, I just mean 'strange' ) - had created a hand made sign for a display of recently donated books about Robert Burns - they need to work on their handwriting, it actually said "All Bums, half price".
Going to a birthday party later - tried to avoid it, but they are actually driving over to collect me - I'm trapped.
Was in the junk bit at the back of Courthouse Market - there was a small 1940's coffee table there for 15 quid, it caught my eye because it was one I'd given to the Salvation Army about a month ago ( it still had a ring from a teacup on it )
At about noon, there was a knock on the door - I loathe people coming to the house - the dogs were barking and there was a man on a machine outside cutting the crass verge, noise levels were unacceptable.
It was talk, young bloke - aged about 27. Wearing glasses and a cheap black suit with a lanyard and clipboard. My heart sank, at least he wasn't from Sky - but he either wanted money, or some form of commitment I didn't care to give.
And then he started talking. Despite the fact he was well rehearsed and his delivery was friendly, honest and engaging - he was quite clearly off the scale of the Autistic spectrum - I could feel the discomfort and fear in him as he tried to engage me, a complete stranger, in a scheme to raise funds for The Red Cross. I don't know if he was there by choice and has some form of relationship with TRC, or on some form of work based scheme - but he was doing his best - despite the dogs barking and the man cutting the grass. I was instantly reminded of the time, many years ago - when a girl called at my house in Liverpool to collect a donations envelope for Amnesty International that had been dropped off earlier in the week - I'd filled a brown envelope with a lot of small change and stapled the little envelope to it, leaving it by the door. As I handed it over, she burst into tears and told me that I was the first person to give her anything in a week - and most people had been abusive or just shut the door in her face.
I had a short conversation with the lad, he was very friendly, struggling a bit with his nerves - he told me that he'd been to college to do architecture for a year but couldn't cope with the course - when he left, he shook my hand. He seemed deeply relieved that there hadn't been some form of abuse or confrontation. Frankly - I don't have the bottle to do what he's doing. I stopped feeling sorry for myself for about an hour - then remembered a time I was attacked by a chugger in Liverpool who stank of drink and was clearly pissed.
The Busker who sings Bob Marley in a fake Jamaican patois called me babylon again today - one of these days I'm going to kick his head clean off his shoulders.
So, the EU gets the Nobel Peace Prie - for doing it's job.... should have gone to Bradley Manning - but that probably wouldn't have been politically convenient.
I've had it brought to my attention that I'm a lot less angry on here - it's intentional, too many people I know read this and have been able to identify themselves, a bit embarrassing. But - if you insist, I can confirm that most people I know are still cunts. BT still make it too difficult for me to manage my account - and in the space of a week, I have been called 'sexist' by 3 people - all of them wrong ( and in one case - by someone who is themselves, the most passive-aggressive sexist, homophobic, xenophobic twat I've ever met in my life. I did publicly tell someone to fuck off on facebook yesterday for posting something really crass ( A picture of the white cliffs of Dover with 'piss off, we're full" sprayed on it. Obviously they are no longer on my friend's list.
I start work at the studio on Monday - this big screen is being moved there by Taxi - so I'll only have a laptop at home until I buy a new computer - when funds allow. Looking forward to it - Monday's task is to archive 20 years of work - reminding myself of every bad professional experience I've ever had. There is something really depressing about re-visiting work that could have been great but was fucked up by the client. I pulled something out this week from about 5 years ago that should have been fantastic - but the woman I was working for at the time ( director of a charity in the city of London, half Chinese - wealthy New Yorker - just graduated from Harvard Business School - FULL OF SHIT ) fucked about with the design so much it became an incoherent mess - I get that a lot, I also noticed that the print had performed badly - and in just 5 years had faded to a blue/red caste. It was a difficult job that included me working part of the text into Tekton, a symbol and flashcard language for people with severe communication challenges - not easy.
I've discovered that there are certain things I can't do after my dental and peridontal work, they include muesli and granary bread.
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