i-want-more

Got nothing to say aint been said before

Soundtrack: Floodland by The Sisters of Mercy

The last week has been fairly painful, but I feel like I'm emerging from the wreckage.

I was expecting a mouthful of abuse over the telephone from Sister Number 2 in reaction to my missive. She used the phone to berate someone, but that someone was my mother. There are a number of possible reasons that this could have happened, but I feel it's likely that my letter touched a nerve, and, wanting to get the maximum effect from the smallest outlay, she called Mum. (And I suppose ringing Mum, who lives about 6 miles up the road, is cheaper than calling long-distance. That sounds a bit below the belt, I'm sure, but these things should be taken into consideration.)

Net result? Some more terrible things were said. It certainly goes around and around, this. My mother is upset and I feel guilty that my efforts backfired. On the plus side, the crazy text messages have stopped. It's almost like I've ceased to exist, now that it's clear that I'm not taking Number 2's side.

The Bank Holiday weekend passed by without incident. We went to see Nacho Libre, which was funny in places, but hardly as consistently funny/cute as the director's other work (Napoleon Dynamite). Worth a pop though, especially if you are interested in the world of Mexican wrestling. It did have a very good soundtrack (Esquivel, some good tropicalia).

Yesterday we went to Chenies Manor in Bucks, which is a really corking place with a beautiful garden, for a picnic with Vivi, Boot, R and Baby I. It was good to get out of town for a couple of hours.

[Sorry, not very exciting at the mo.]

posted by deafdisco @ 11:28 pm