Monday, April 24, 2006

My Hephaestus (only, he's not lame ... and he's not a blacksmith)

Sitting here in my short sleeves I can feel my hair near my elbows - a sign of a good day.

I fell in love with my husband all over again this weekend.

On Saturday night we went to see Dylan Moran and the seats were up in the gods.
It was the first time I had any sort of feeling akin to vertigo and I found it unnerving.
I kept looking at the elaborate ceiling that was so close to us and feeling my head swim just a little.
Mr Moran was a tiny tiny little man, fitting for his tiny angry diatribe that made up much of the show. He was very funny, but he spent far too long talking about how everyone is unhappy all the time which made me feel sorry for him, tiny angry little leprechaun man, I'm happy most of the time.
There was a heckler. I hate hecklers with a passion but Dylan gave him a dressing down "you just sit there and evolve", "you had a shit time there, you're having a shit time here, ever think that maybe it isn't the location?" - on learning the heckler was an irishman.
"Your smell has a sound"
All art is "jesus, fruit or tits".
Leaving the theatre we met a friend who turned around and said "Have you seen his DVD Monster?" uh no "you just did."

My poor, tired, long suffering husband put up with me as I dragged him to Espressoholic with Kat and Tim and ... others. He yawned and smiled and made dirty conversation and drank orange juice while we had coffee.
Tim : somethingsomething like a horse!
Craig : oh well, I don't like to brag
Kat : Ha! you should ask his Wife!
Sarah's Head : don't say it, don't say it, it's gross and just gah! don't say it ...
Sarah : Well, I don't choke and tell.
Sarah's Head : gah, damnit!

On Sunday morning I managed to touch Craig's lips enough to wake him up before 10. We had very important shopping missions to accomplish. Craig has been wearing a jersey-jacket for a couple of years now and the grey has heathered to a purple-y-brown and the collar has frayed. So we went hunting for them.
He ended up with two, one with a blue that brings out his eyes and I love, and one that makes him look like a race-car driver which he loves.
On the way back home we stopped so I could purchase 2 canvases and a graphite pencil. I spent the afternoon painting while Craig created dentist noises in the garage.

It was nice spending so much time with him, talking in the interval up in the gods, holding hands in the courtyard of espressoholic, standing in the same changing room as he tries on jackets, driving out to Tawa and back singing along to old rock songs and having him come inside smelling of metal, my Hephaestus, telling me that my painting is very pretty.

Oh also - I'm winning our bet.
I found trivia about the test track for Top Gear - that Gambon corner is so called because Michael Gambon came close to rolling his car as he drove (maniacally) around it. I brought this fact to Craig like a cat with a mouse and all he said was "... yea?" as if to say "... I know, so what?".
According to him they tell this anecdote nearly weekly, and I swear that I've never heard it before.
I tried to bet him $10 that they wouldn't mention it that week, but he wasn't having a bar of it. I then bet that they wouldn't mention it once in the next month (4 shows) and we shook on it and the bet was on.
So far it has been two shows, and not one tale of Michael Gambon's driving.
At least I know he's not just letting me win this bet.

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