Little library themes and house husbands and what I think about Halloween
So, I survived work Halloween dressed in a black Gorman jumpsuit or as a snarky twenty something might put it, "oversize playsuit", nice person lent me a witches' hat for trick or treating- we limited ourselves to the block, child 'educating' about removing cotton wool to protect baby birds out of the nest, a better way to educate than be judgey (though actually it makes me mad to think about).
When I say 'survived', work party was enjoyable, but Halloween has certainly been embedded as another northern hemisphere ritual that does not make sense, weather wise. My first Halloween party was as a teen invited to the big kids goth party, even though I found them scary even after Giles told me scary ones were groupie. He'd carved pumpkins lit with fairy lights, we sat in a circle and chatted about the blue rinse set being our only allies (Exeter had asked Jeremy to dye his blue hair brown) discussed horoscopes and watched flatmate feuds whilst rest of city watched Melrose Place.
I read Tom Barbash novel, Dakota Winters, a delight and similar to Rachel Kushner Flame Throwers; narrator lives with his family in Dakota building, John and Yoko Ono are neighbours, Yoko makes life decisions based on astrology (Mercury in retrograde). I've always had a soft spot for astrology, without taking much notice of anything beyond Aquarius "imaginative, charming, empathetic, romantic, selfless" but read out Sagitarius to kid "that's me". And maybe that's the thing-to see qualities named, to recognise them. There were pages I ear marked to go back and think about; I liked how the author's life experience and observations came through, without his personality obstructing the plot. I admired that (though I can't do it myself); it certainly wasn't personality free, and details were clearly from life, but he weaved in so many fictional elements, had the intergenerational angle--father a night time TV host, mother helping Joan Kennedy on the campaign trail with Ted; John Lennon as a house husband, in one scene at a talk by sea adventurers, gives his neighbours the sharpest speech about "Daddy".
And on that segue, sorted out part of Tassie itinerary: early walking with A (yoga and tea drinking IS good for you) which sadly walk clashes with paper mache-ing a platypus for Xmas pageant, strictly only 3 people allowed, but I'll cope, always more crafty things. Told Pen there is a body nudity thing in the name of art, 'there's never a better time', will be curious if she says yes. At other extreme is catching up with 6 foot+ friend who told me he was doing Point to Pinnacle AND asked if I'd like a late-night tennis match. (Me-"Do you listen to Running Up that Hill by Kate Bush on repeat?" Him "Nah, I just walk it, but I'll make the top 10"). I have been brave and reached out to a primary school friend that, in the day, agreed to help me operate a jokes booth where you paid 10 cents to get a joke that we'd written down (I am going to send this anecdote to my stand-up comedy friend from uni, he will love it) and also want to reach out to my closest ally from first year uni, the one that told me he, too, liked re-enacting the gag from Play School about turning your hard-boiled egg shell upside down, and re-serving it.
In other life updates, eldest has gone to Melbs to see a Canadian rapper-sell out concert, he's in the mosh pit, nope, no idea. My friend has invited me to her 50th, third invite in as many weeks (one involves a food truck in the backyard, one involves bringing a plate, also at home and last one is a relaxed bbq, nothing fancy. I'm getting the vibe that authenticity is finally mainstream, phew! If it was me, right now, I'd
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