One day. We can live in hope that Welshy will get his laptop fixed and I can use the internet like a normal person again.
He recently took it to a shop and was charged a hundred quid to have it "repaired" so far we've seen no sign of it spluttering into life. So we took it back and they told us the charger was blown. So we brought a new charger. Still no joy.
Hmm. I have two laptops here. My old faithful that saw me through university. However it was pre-wireless internet and to be honest. I dont wanna sit in the living room and play online. Not with the housemates we have anyway.
My other is RRREEEAAAALLLLLLLY slow and tends to not work at all if its not plugged into a wall. It may be just within the timespan of wireless. I doubt it though.
Mother is upset again. Before I went to football I had to comfort her while she sobbed hysterically about wanting my Dad. She's just come back from a mini-break which she badly needed and fell back into the trap of worrying about my Nan and Granddad. And my aunt suggested putting them in a home. Which AGAIN they dont need.
They just need to be left alone, with a bit of company now and then. Then she got into a fluster about the gas bill and it was a straw that broke the camels back.
I think, perhaps she needs counselling. And I'm not a person for that. I had the upbringing that to see one was a sign of weakness, a failure to cope. But I really think that everything has got to her too much. Dad, her accident, Granddad's illness, Nanny's dementia. She needs outside help. I try but there's so little I can do. I even considered moving back in to help look after her, but that helps no one.
So maybe outside help would help her. A new person, trained to deal with this and all her other problems, who could suggest ways to help N&G better than we can. But even broaching the subject with her will be hard, she will take the same attitude that to seek the help is weak. And we dont have the money for therapists.
Ho Hum. I feel so guilty and weak for not being able to help and so, so helpless when she sobs brokenly for my Dad.
Plus side. I'm going for a mega piss up to Southend on Friday with the N.M.M.C.A.S.C. (plus two) meeting at 11, start drinking by half 11. Chips on the beach, penny arcades. Lots and lots more drinking. Perhaps a trip to the sealife centre and more drinking. Then the football at 7.45, and then more drinking before getting the last train to london at half 12. Cant wait.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
India.
Its everything, beautiful, ugly, polluted and clean, poverty-stricken and rich. As much as you hear about the dirt and poverty, its not till you get there and smell it. See the slums and people begging. The lucky people living in tents. The others sleeping where they can.
I was exhausted by it all, by the end. The constant layer of plastic and card debris lying about. The people asking for money. They assume that cos you're white, you're rich and yes, compared to them I am, but its all relative. I have 200 hundred pounds to last me till payday at the end of the month.
You start off pitying them, but by the end of it, I was so worn out by the relentless begging I just didn't care if they had stumps for arms or kiddies in their arms.
Its not even the poor people either, I was conned for "donations" several times in temples and the buggers know they have you there as you dont wish to offend!
It was tiring being a female travelling alone, as they want to take photos of you, with or without them. I'm sure I'm in several Indian mens personal Wank-Banks now. When I saw them coming down the beach I went and sat in the hut until they'd gone.
Its tiring having stop 'n' drop toilets, or even just a tile in the ground to aim for. I complained to Welshy, that it was ok for him, I had to worry about splashback or even trickle down my legs. The places that had real loos often didnt flush or leaked, the showers ranged from cold to tepid and dripped slowly out of the showerhead.
I dont know how I survived, or how anyone survives on the road, its ok to overtake on a blind corner, or drive on the wrong side of the road if you like. And its more than ok to overtake a car thats trying to overtake a lorry on a mountainside.
Families balance toddlers onto handlebars of bikes and people cling onto the sides and roofs of buses.
It was frustrating seeing starving, mangy dogs, dead puppies and knowing that if only they did a castration programme, it'd help reduce the population naturally and release the constant pressure on the bitches, but finding out that any kind of sterilisation like that is considered unholy.
But let me tell you about the good side, the beach in Gokarna, Om Beach, remote and unspoiled by pollution, the huge crashing waves that were endless fun to bodysurf along or try to remain upright in. How I rode a camel into the desert and camped overnight listening to traditional Indian tales by a fire. How the Taj Mahal is actually prettier than you imagine or have seen. How the birds come in amazing shades of vivid blues and greens. How all the trucks and rickshaws are gaily decorated in tinsel and paint, that would look tacky anywhere else. How we hunted tigers in early mornings and watched late night Bollywood films in the cinema and laughed and were moved to tears despite not understanding what was spoken. Let me tell you about riding an elephant and feeding rats at a holy temple and playing with monkeys (I fell over and down the stairs there. Apparently you really do slip on banana skins).
Let me tell you about riding the spirited and responsive Marwei horses and their amazing curvy ears over rocks and along mountain paths.
Let me tell you about delicious apple Lassi drinks and Gulab Jamin desserts and the kind people that helped reunite me and Welshy after we got seperated at Mombai airport (although the bastard did con about a thousand rupees out of me in the process).
There was so much to reccommend about the place and so much to hate, it was a complete land of contrasts, I loved it but was glad to come home to civilisation. I had an amazing time though, despite all the downsides.
Its everything, beautiful, ugly, polluted and clean, poverty-stricken and rich. As much as you hear about the dirt and poverty, its not till you get there and smell it. See the slums and people begging. The lucky people living in tents. The others sleeping where they can.
I was exhausted by it all, by the end. The constant layer of plastic and card debris lying about. The people asking for money. They assume that cos you're white, you're rich and yes, compared to them I am, but its all relative. I have 200 hundred pounds to last me till payday at the end of the month.
You start off pitying them, but by the end of it, I was so worn out by the relentless begging I just didn't care if they had stumps for arms or kiddies in their arms.
Its not even the poor people either, I was conned for "donations" several times in temples and the buggers know they have you there as you dont wish to offend!
It was tiring being a female travelling alone, as they want to take photos of you, with or without them. I'm sure I'm in several Indian mens personal Wank-Banks now. When I saw them coming down the beach I went and sat in the hut until they'd gone.
Its tiring having stop 'n' drop toilets, or even just a tile in the ground to aim for. I complained to Welshy, that it was ok for him, I had to worry about splashback or even trickle down my legs. The places that had real loos often didnt flush or leaked, the showers ranged from cold to tepid and dripped slowly out of the showerhead.
I dont know how I survived, or how anyone survives on the road, its ok to overtake on a blind corner, or drive on the wrong side of the road if you like. And its more than ok to overtake a car thats trying to overtake a lorry on a mountainside.
Families balance toddlers onto handlebars of bikes and people cling onto the sides and roofs of buses.
It was frustrating seeing starving, mangy dogs, dead puppies and knowing that if only they did a castration programme, it'd help reduce the population naturally and release the constant pressure on the bitches, but finding out that any kind of sterilisation like that is considered unholy.
But let me tell you about the good side, the beach in Gokarna, Om Beach, remote and unspoiled by pollution, the huge crashing waves that were endless fun to bodysurf along or try to remain upright in. How I rode a camel into the desert and camped overnight listening to traditional Indian tales by a fire. How the Taj Mahal is actually prettier than you imagine or have seen. How the birds come in amazing shades of vivid blues and greens. How all the trucks and rickshaws are gaily decorated in tinsel and paint, that would look tacky anywhere else. How we hunted tigers in early mornings and watched late night Bollywood films in the cinema and laughed and were moved to tears despite not understanding what was spoken. Let me tell you about riding an elephant and feeding rats at a holy temple and playing with monkeys (I fell over and down the stairs there. Apparently you really do slip on banana skins).
Let me tell you about riding the spirited and responsive Marwei horses and their amazing curvy ears over rocks and along mountain paths.
Let me tell you about delicious apple Lassi drinks and Gulab Jamin desserts and the kind people that helped reunite me and Welshy after we got seperated at Mombai airport (although the bastard did con about a thousand rupees out of me in the process).
There was so much to reccommend about the place and so much to hate, it was a complete land of contrasts, I loved it but was glad to come home to civilisation. I had an amazing time though, despite all the downsides.
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