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ConFlagrante · Delecto

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Comment if you would like details of the new blog. I am still following most of your blogs from there...
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I am now mainly writing on my other blog. Comment if you would like details...
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"Does this mean we're going to be married before we're facebook friends?"
"Yes, it's so 2005 isn't it?"
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It's been a fantastic weekend, featuring the most fun gig ever (with Nat and her Burmese python), then waking up after fewer than five hours of sleep feeling great and proceeding cleaning my room with the windows wide open so I can admire the beautiful view. After I settle down to do some work I'll be making lobio and pkhali for a decadent Georgian dinner with a splendid guest. And my landlady is visiting home from the hospital and quite likes Georgian food, so double win.
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Just booked two sets of tickets to Edinburgh, got a free Barbour jacket, Ferragamo toiletry bag, Ferragamo lotion and perfume, Burberry fleece, and Caldene riding jacket, and am now packing for a bellydance/fire earting/snake charming show with N up in Lancashire. The weekend is off to a good start!
Current Music:
Mediaeval Baebes
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You know your life is too good to be true when the hottest woman you've ever met, who happens to be an actress, tells you she's filming a queer comedy and needs someone to make out with in the shower scene.
Other good adventures this week included discovering I like fir liquor....and even better, watching Lubaya's face as she discovers she really _doesn't_ like fir liquor.
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I had a useful but sad conversation about starting a retirement savings now since I won't have any family to take care of me when I am elderly. I hadn't thought much about that but am going to investigate it this week. The discussion had a stern "you are going to die alone" tinge to it (my interlocutor making the argument that babyless relationships are likely to be less enduring) which made me sad. I had always imagined something more like Pablo Neruda when he writes

...I know no other way
than this: Where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
When I die, I want your hands on my eyes:
I want the light and wheat of your beloved hands
to pass their freshness over me once more:
I want to feel the softness that changed my destiny.

As I get older I don't worry about "being left on the shelf" as Nat's aunt so rudely puts it, but about simply being unlucky and unsuccessful in romantic matters. The idea that I would live and die what Neruda describes has become more of a hope than an expectation.
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One of the lovely things about England is the ease with which one might be tested for STIs (barring herpes, which is weirdly hard to get tested for and which is quite prevalent here). Being tested for such things is polite. I have met people here who thinking concerns about STIs are merely the result of "brainwashing" but the majority are not such imbeciles. Thus, readers, please take this as a polite reminder to go get tested.
N would like to point out the following:
1. We have just been tested* despite having no reason to believe anything could be amiss
2. We are both hip and hot
3. Being tested will not damage your hotness. It will, if anything, increase your hotness by showing your partners that you give a damn.
*The nurse I spoke to made wonderful involuntary hand gestures and all mentions of lesbian sex and I wish I could have covertly videotaped this as she was otherwise quite stern and matronly and the rude hand gestures were delightfully incongrous
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I Would Steal Horses
for you, if there were any left,
give a dozen of the best
to your father, the auto mechanic
in the small town where you were born
and where he will die sometime by dark.
I am afraid of his hands, which have
rebuilt more of the small parts
of this world than I ever will.
I would sign treaties for you, take
every promise as the last lie, the last
point after which we both refuse the exact.
I would wrap us both in old blankets
hold every disease tight against our skin.
- by Sherman Alexie
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My room is now spectacularly tidy, thanks to lots of coffee and the company of my friend KH. I organised all my books and quite a lot of my old War Studies papers. I have some pretty goddam weird book categories ("torture"; "dead languages") and some continued categorical problems, like whether to separate military and nonmilitary history and also Middle Eastern and Western history. Because I take everything Much Too Seriously I have been distressed that, for example, Fanon is in the "Middle East/North Africa" section, as though French colonialism in Algeria has nothing to do with France. I am also tempted to make a "manuals" section because I am having trouble finding where to put my manuals for things and I like the idea of having the IRA's Green Book next to an al-Qaeda training manual and instructions for how to use my video camera and my oven.
Current Music:
Korn, "Shoots and Ladders"
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