Eggs and Tibet

My mind's kind of swimming in work at the moment. Getting down to it at the moment - really getting stuck into it. I think I've had a break through. I'm kind of in that state, though. When you get really stuck on something creative, and you just float along in it. Whatever you do your essence doesn't change, you leave it behind in that you are creating.

I haven't left the house today. When I was cooking eggs, showering, making curry, I was still really thinking about this group I'm studying: New Kadampa Tradition (a Western form of Buddhism, headed by a very controlling Tibetan lama). They talk a lot about meditation, perhaps that means they're getting me - they're accused of being a cult, if I don't blog for a while come and help Chris and Raine rescue me from the meditation centre, who will be taking all of my incoming cash...Actually, I'll be ok, they'll kick me out when they figure out how broke I am...no they won't, they get me sign up for benefits, as is their usual way. One member had legitimated this practice, they said that by building the movement up off the State they were giving the State good karma. Wa-hay for the State in the next life, maybe it'll have an improved version of Gordon Brown leading.

We didn't have much of a weekend. I was working at LUSU on Saturday. We went back up to uni in the evening, for a World Aids Day gig. We waited for Chris to get home from work, then he had to eat. We thought the gig went on til 12, it didn't. We got there a bit before 11 and it finished, so we walked home again (the car's broken, so we're on foot at the moment). Got stoned in the back garden, had a giggle and talked profoundly - as you always do when you're stoned, even if it's about soap operas, it's profound. On this occassion it was about books. I decided that Raine likes books which romanticise the super human, or the post human - it's beyond the normal human experience. I like books which examine the human experience, which examine the everyday, and illuminate that. In the middle you have Chuck Palahniuk, who romanticises the final moment of human experience. Everything he writes about leads up to a final moment.

We got our shopping delivered to us, because the car's broken down. That was quite fun! Ordering on the Internet then it arrives. It would have been more miraculous had there not been several problems, meaning we had to call them up. Calling ASDA up means speaking to someone in South Africa, that's strange. Firstly, because you're talking about your shopping which is coming from Morecambe; secondly, because no call centre is in South Africa!

The end of the week is a big occassion: Furness (college at the University) Real Ale and Cider Festival. Every year they hold it, and it appears in Real Ale guides. Close to 100 real ales, and stamp books to fill, and for every fourth pint you get a souvenir pint glass. Cunning - of course you're going to drink four pints for that. Really, you are. Well, last year we didn't, we stole one off a table, but...Mostly, I think the pint glasses are distributed because you wake up and don't know why the hell your head hurts so badly, then you see the glass and go down to Furness for the second day, to cure your head with more alcohol, and see what it is you've forgotten, and so on for the whole weekend. Anyway, it's down with tea for Friday night, will need it come Saturday, I fear.