Failed to sauna impressively. Mostly on purpose. I should really save my moneh. My brother asked Katie to marry him on her 21st birthday. They were out for dinner with her parents at a hotel. She flooded and said yes. Friday’s birthday party has morphed into an engagement party. Am all happy for them, just wish I knew what to buy them. They already have a house and all the bits that attach to it. Might get them one of those horrible tacky hyooj wine glasses that can consume a litre. Mum is ok, not pregnant as far as she knows (see previous blog - giggle), but she mentioned that the grandmother’s “feelings” are getting bad again, so I’m going to have to attempt an interesting conversation with her on Saturday morning to try and show her how to block them out. They have the same effect on her as me, strong emotion from someone we know makes us feel sick, but she’s much older and a lot less able to deal with it. And something’s up, something’s not being said somewhere, I can feel it too, I woke at 6am Monday with the same feeling she woke at 5am Sunday having. It’s perplexing. Still, all the family will be around on Friday, so it’ll be easy to spot what/who is the cause. Sometimes living in my family can be a little strange, to say the least At least mum’s stopped thinking that her mother’s just being neurotic and is actually paying attention to what she says... Had a whole conversation about ageing and how bizarre it all is, she has photos of her mother at my age, and she’s wearing a cardigan, hair cut short, glasses, basically how she is now...but when she was 20 she was stunning. One day I’ll grab the photos and scan them and flickr them, but my grandparents looked like they could have been a couple from a 50s Hollywood movie. It’s so strange. I can remember my grandmother at my mother’s age, I can remember my mother at my age, we’re all different. Mum told me she’d always planned to grow old disgracefully, but I don’t think there’s anything disgraceful. The one important difference between Mum and her Mum I think is that my grandmother stopped work when she married. When you stop work, I guess you lose touch. It’s a strange idea, but I think it’s possibly true. My grandmother used to work as a seamstress in a shop off of Oxford Street. I still hope to one day take her back to Oxford Street and show her how it’s changed. I think it’d fascinate her. I need to find the fire in her though, her willingness to do things is diminishing, if it stops she’ll simply become the sum of her ailments and her life may as well be over...there’s something I really really hate about that idea. It makes me want to shoot doctors when they don’t recognise symptoms that are blindingly obvious and merely prescribe more and differing drugs. I suppose they do it as lots of people expect it of them and it’s far easier than taking a holistic approach, but still. ""for the father, nothing"" It’ll be interesting, too, as my Dad might be there at the party. I’ve not seen him in years, sorta have mixed feelings about all this. He wants forgiveness for being a crap father, I can give him that, but I can’t forgive him for how he treated mum and what he put her through, only she can do that. And he can only get her forgiveness by asking for it. I don’t think it even occurs to him that this might be the core of the problem between us. Sure, there’s other stuff, but still. Apparently he’s sleeping with someone else’s wife at the moment and using my brother’s hotel as a knocking shop...interesting... Things running through my head are making sleeping tricky. Not sure how long I can carry on my fun little experiment, but will keep it going a bit longer. It’s almost like tasting metal in my head, it’s an odd feeling. But if I get used to it I’ll be better at some things. Bumped into David yesterday, he’s looking surprisingly hot for a Canadian. Will text and demand coffee sometime this week. May invite him to the All Star Talent Sho