Hi, I haven’t been around much lately – I’ve been sick for the past three weeks with a mysterious ailment which could be whooping cough. After two weeks of horrible spasming coughs I finally went in to the doctor on Monday (it’s Friday today) and had some tests done and got some antibiotics. I don’t know that much about antibiotics really, I don’t know how long it’s meant to be before you really feel like you’re making some progress. I think my cough is getting better but I still wake up two or three times in the night, choking, coughing, unable to breathe. It’s pretty scary. I had the last two days off work and didn’t leave the house once. Sat around in my robe reading (at the moment I’m re-reading Kerouac’s “Dharma Bums”, a book that reminds me of my second year at university) and sleeping and computering. Not particularly exciting, but I think I have improved a little.
It’s really winter now: you can hardly see the harbour through the window. Everywhere you look you see grey and rain. The sky is that dirty-grey color, not even a steely gray that makes being inside feel cozy. Or maybe it’s just because I’m sick, everything feels like the inside of a lung. Moist and sort of yuck.
But it’s friday. Jeremy’s coming over for dinner tonight (Aart’s famous meatballs). Might go for a drive over to the Wairarapa with James tomorrow, and there’s this writing workshop on Sunday for Radio New Zealand that I’m going to go to. They’ve got a programme that’s going to be on in September called “Open Season” or something, where they want the general public to write for radio. I really don’t know what to expect but I’m going to go along. They’re looking for poetry, short stories and plays. I’ve been trying to write more but with no real space of my own it is proving to be quite difficult.
My dad wants to go halves on a house with me, so I’ve been looking in the papers at properties and going to the odd open home. It’s all early days at the moment, but I quite like the idea of setting up a place of my own. A four bedroom, rent out one or two of the rooms and turn one into a writing room. I can certainly think of worse things, anyway.
My mom’s finally got her car back after the accident. And my dad sold his Suburban, the one he bought new in 1984 when my grandparents came out to the States and we drove around canada – the six of us plus the dog. That car’s been like an extension of my dad – like a foot or something. It seems strange to think that it’s gone now – a guy from Blenheim bought it, who works for Firestone (so already it has some nice new tires!) with three wee kids. Quite nice, really.
Oh, and my Old Icelandic class is getting together this Saturday as well – going to our lecturer’s for dinner and to watch the first part of Wagner’s Ring Cycle. I have never seen this before, apparently it is “hard core” opera, but it’s all based on similar mythology to what we’re studying at the moment. Cool. It’s in 5 parts – the longest is something like 5 hours long, but the bit we’re watching is only a few hours. Should be a laugh anyway.