flemmings | (no subject)

I was going to tell you about my lovely week. That was on Tuesday. The rest of the week went pear-shaped, with half the full-time staff *and* the casuals away or sick (including me), and since then I've been a Pratchett-reading zombie that does nothing but read Pratchett. And eat, of course.

(The override is here, BTW.)

Monday I saw Totoro in Japanese on the big screen. As always, I was a bit disappointed by it. It's a little kid's movie, with no antagonists and the mildest of crises. This amazes me, because *I* think both Totoro and the Nekobus are scary as anything. Yellow eyes, fangs, roars and growls. But Satsuki and Mei are never scared of anything. It's an idyllic film, I suppose, and as idylls it's well and good, but I prefer Chihiro and her world. I note, again, as in Mimi wo sumaseba, the presence of the Perfect Japanese Father. Makes me regrte missing Omohide poroporo, because I understand the father in that was much less understanding.

Shall miss the Miyazaki festival. Thought I might get down to the last showing of Nausicaa on Friday, but no. Not after my seven hour day, with only half an hour to get there and buy a ticket. I only wish I'd been well enough to see more, and enjoy what I saw.

Tuesday was a celebratory dinner for my brother's birthday, and very very nice. (Alas, as I told the s-i-l, though I like lamb, lamb very distinctly does not like me. Worth it, even so.) Happy in its family gathering, and its recollection of the same celebration four years ago on the day I finally got home from the hospital.

Otherwise... I wanted to buy cher frere a vintage wine, but the vintage I wanted wasn't in stock when the winds finally lulled enough to allow me to get to the liquor store which they'd kept me from Monday and Tuesday. I bought nigori sake instead, the milky stuff you see in jidai geki, and it was of a vileness I cannot describe. It was cold all week, or rather normal, but the sun brought the cherry blossoms out, which now bloom like snow on this grey warm evening so reminiscent of late Easter years (though it *is* Orthodox Easter, now I think of it.) Everything a month ahead of itself this year.

I've been wondering for months 'when am I going to feel like myself again? When will I be me again?' The answer is, today, and it can stop any time. Had to go and take long walks to calm myself about someone being Wrong On The Internet. Could be ten years ago. And then I found myself revisiting a story I abandoned ca 2000. Clearly April is the Ghost Tide, with its warmth and flowers and time out of time. 'I'm going back in time and it's a sweet dream'-- except it's not.

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Sympathy on the sickness. I do hope it clears soon, and that the dreams get sweeter.

Come to that, I had a very sweet dream last night, if odd in some of its details. It posited a small subway line in TO I'd never heard of, shaped kind of like the constellation Draco, with maybe five stations in total. The stations had wrought iron fixtures, like the old Paris metro. One stop was a huge flower park all in bloom, and the terminus was called Pimlico. It wasn't the real Pimlico, which I've never seen, but a rag-tag backwater on top of a hill, with Palladian houses that had seen better days but which caught the full westering sun, inhabited by pot-heads and artists and ex-psychiatric patients and craftspeople: a place for those who don't belong anywhere else.

Now that does sound like a splendid dream. It's the sort of dream that would have me trying to go back to sleep to continue it. (Except that never works, of course.)

*hugs* This past week had an ill-wind blowing through it. I hope you feel better.

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Except that Mommy keeps saying it's nothing much, so that for adults at least there's no tension there either.

She comes back in the closing credits, actually. It's the first picture they show.