Swollen Testicles v the Moon

Okay, so I’ve been trying, I really have.  I watch everyone on Twitter, chatting about TV, and I figure, maybe I’m missing out here.  Maybe I should join in.  I mean, I do watch TV a bit – but it’s usually Top Gear or The Gadget Show or The Simpsons to keep James company – and I’ll only have half an eye on Jeremy Clarkson (unless he’s driving a particularly juicy motor) cos I’ll be balancing on my fitball and waving a kettlebell over my head (yup, those triceps still need a bit of work). 

But the other night I thought, no, give it a go.  So I sat on the sofa, turned on and – OMG – there was a vast swollen scrotum staring me in the eye.  For one bizarre moment I wondered if James had signed us up for some Sky package that involved porn channels, except no…this was not even remotely erotic (unless you get off on infected scrota of course – and, don’t tell me, some people probably do). 

I then watched, slack-jawed, some poor man having six stone – SIX STONE! – of stomach “apron” excised.  Six stone? Sorry, I keep repeating it but you know, that’s a large child. I don’t think I will ever expunge that image. 

It was about four times this size, btw

But really.  This is entertainment?  This is what we choose to do with our evenings?  Well, obviously because last night I found myself back on the sofa switching on again, with puzzled yet morbid fascination.  This time it was the women’s turn.  One poor girl had her humungous breasts lopped off and we got to see a woman with a prolapsed vagina expelling a squirt of urine up close.  In fact, the director liked the pee shot so much, we got it three times, until the woman finally managed to splash the consultant in the eye. 

Now, I’m not remotely squeamish.  I’ve watched operations up close; I’ve staunched a severed artery with my bare hands (not my own artery, I hasten to add) and I begged a surgeon to let me watch my own emergency C-section (he refused, the spoilsport) but, but, but…no.  Just no.   I turned away.

The moon was so huge, so bright.  It was flirting through the window at me, singing a love song to me and I just couldn't resist.  So I switched off the TV and walked out into the garden.  The daisies were shining like a reflection of stars.  The moon stroked my face so I lay down on the damp grass, stretched out and smelled earth and roses and lilies and the faintest hint of woodsmoke.  I felt the earth beneath me and gazed up at the clear night sky as the last vestiges of light faded to slate. For once I didn't go hurtling out into the darkness - I was content just to hang...just to hold the earth's hand and spin with it through space.

I so love moonlight.  Do you?  Do you ever really appreciate it?  Have you ever walked in the woods at night?  Your eyes adjust, you know – you don’t need a flashlight…  You see, you hear, you smell, you feel so much… Have you ever swum in a river at night?  Slid softly through black water?   Have you ever floated in the sea under the stars, your body caressed by moon and wave, floating in a nowhere place, twixt elements, inbetween time?  Oh, I know, I know….dangerous…  Oh whatever.  It’s beautiful, just beautiful…so beautiful….

….a million worlds away from the images on my TV screen.

For some reason Blogger won't let me embed a vid here:  but when I think of seas and floating this is the song that plays in my head:  it's Song to the Siren  by This Mortal Coil and it is just plain gorgeous.

It’s okay, btw – I know I’m weird, I know this isn’t the norm.  And I’m not judging or condemning, really I’m not.  It’s just…why?  Why do we watch TV?  Is it entertainment, escapism, bonding, numbing?  Honestly, I’d love to know. 

The show, btw#2, was Embarrassing Bodies and, having taken a look at their website I can see they do probably help demystify stuff and so on...and encourage people to see their GPs and check their bodies and....oh heck, there's a penis gallery and a vulva gallery....no, really, there is.  Jeez, sometimes you have to wonder about our bodies - I mean, couldn't they be a bit more aesthetic?  Couldn't someone run a competition or something - design decent-looking sex apparatus? 

Girls v boys (warning, contains penes)

Now don’t get me wrong on this.  First things first: I adore my son. Totally, utterly adore him. But I do sometimes wish I’d had a daughter as well.  I always thought I would.  Way back, when my sister was having her fourth (or was it fifth?) child she said, very firmly, ‘I can see you with one child.  A girl. I just know it.’  Now, see, maybe this is why I’ve always been a bit wary of the psychic malarkey.   Cos while she got the one bit right, I have ended up being the only female in the house – yup, even the dogs have dicks.

But anyhow. I don’t have a daughter and, unless I become one of those ancient mothers with babies (which SO isn’t going to happen) it’s going to stay that way.

I was going to crash in front of the fire but, having successfully ignored the phone ringing, I caught a late tweet (perils of Twitter) from Charlie:

nice, innit? particularly without us being noisy

‘It’s Rachel’s birthday; you’re ignoring the phone! Just join us at the Thai. Now!’ 
What can you do?  So I whizzed down the pub to tell Adrian and James I was off out - again.  Problem with the pub is that you can’t whizz.  So, by the time I’d wriggled away and got to the restaurant, they were finishing off the noodles. 

Their youngest, G, is my godson and he’s delicious. But oh, I do love their girls so much:  The Mistress of All Evil and Princess Delicious.  The MoAE wanted to talk books and music and fashion.  The PD was keen to tell me how she’d pulled a fast one on the MoAE who now owed her a small fortune (plus interest).  I admired the PD for her business acumen but felt a stab of pity for MoAE who has as corrosive an Amazon habit as I do – books, music, shoes – we’re soul sisters.  She wanted to know about Samael – she was my first beta reader, inhaling every chapter as I wrote it.  So I told her about the rewrite: she wasn’t impressed.

‘But I loved the surfers, and the crusties.’

‘Yeah, but what the zombie beheading and the crucifixion and that unseemly tussle at the gates of Hell?’ I said with a sad shrug.

‘Oh God, yeah! You haven’t…??  You HAVEN'T???? But those were the best bits….’

I explained that editors seemed to think the book was too complex, had too many sub-plots, was too dark.

‘But we teens love horror!  We devour dark,’ she said with venom, with a firm emphasis on ‘we teens’ (when you’re thirteen that teen bit is mega important). ‘We love complex stuff.  We teens are deep.  Dumbing it down is just patronising.’

Well, couldn’t argue with that.  She did a great eyeroll (told you we were soul sisters). ‘I can’t think about it,' she said flapping her hands. 'Let's listen to this instead.’ She pulled me down and stuck an ear-bud in my ear. 

‘Are you trying to shock Jane?’ said her mother, ‘Cos it won’t work.’

‘I know, silly,’ said the MoAE. ‘She’s cool and trendy….’  See why I love this girl? 

‘You’ll love this,’ she continued. ‘It’s called….’ She dropped her voice…’I’ve Just Had Sex.’

So we listened to it together. Catchy tune so we started jigging around a bit.  And then I just howled with laughter.

‘Penis. He said penis….’ I covered my mouth with my hand. ‘Shit, sorry.’ (flapping my hands guiltily in the direction of my young godson). Rachel gave me The Look. ‘The penis bit was okay…’ she said witheringly.  ‘….the shit wasn’t.’  Damnit, bad godmother again.

‘But, but…you can’t say ‘penis’ in a song; it’s just such a ridiculous word.’
‘I know,’ said the MoAE happily.  ‘It’s hilarious.’

And it was and we just howled with laughter.  And then laughed more about hair and friends and how ridiculous boys can be.  And tried on sandals and considered doing the helium out of the birthday balloons, like we did last year. 

I left with the biggest smile on my face.  Big hugs from everyone apart from my godson who took my hand very carefully, bent over and gave it a soft, respectful kiss (he always does this – it is just edible).  When I got home, I asked James if he’d heard the Penis song. He frowned with total disdain. ‘God no. That’s disgusting. Why on earth would I listen to something like that?’

Girls and boys. Different creatures.   

But, but…just watch the video – it cracks me up.  Maybe it's a girl thing.

http://www.youtube.com/embed/lQlIhraqL7o