So, in the spirit of punishing myself further by attempting to reverse my current health problem in nine weeks, I sought thinspiration by taking a look at the material for Wolfe’s event in Birmingham – if you are seriously obsessed, you can get near his greatness for £90.
I thought about doing this briefly, and then decided that the sight of me giggling and ranting into my notebook might put him off. We can’t have that. I nearly went to see him in California a couple of years ago, but decided that Marrakech was a better idea. Given the blockings and the reputation for turning people away because they aren’t smiley enough, not to mention the actual fans that have emailed me over the years, I thought better of it.
Then I took a look at the pictures of the audience, which appears to consist of well-built young men who go to the gym, and slightly dry looking hippy chicks that are a little bit too serious looking for the context. They are wonderful looking fans though, but this ain’t my bag.
No, I thought, this is not for me at all. I look a whole lot more like Wolfe than they do, and I know where the funny bits are. Leave him to his harem and his glory, and stay well out of it.
It is not fun at all, hating what he does for a living. I need to get out more and find someone who doesn’t have quite such an extensive line of misquotes-by-meme.
So, another year passes, I still feel the same way, and I still don’t want to go anywhere near him, particularly not in a crowd scene. I can do the whole public face thing, I just don’t feel it is appropriate or necessary. This was just a random emotional aberration, it doesn’t need to define my actions.
It is as my mother says, never try to have something you cannot stand losing. She is right, you are far better off with things/people that are not precious.
In any case, it is unlikely that the game will be out in the next ten weeks or so, as I will be doing other things. I would rather make that point, even though he will probably reject it on principle. For someone who has so much to say about mean-spiritedness, I can tell you that from my perspective, he takes the crown for it.
I am still looking pretty dreadful, not sure how long it will take for that to calm down, but am feeling significantly better when walking or moving. Why can’t the NHS manage to spot these things? I have gone through years of shit with my health, and the parameters that they work with apparently don’t allow for spotting things on a prevention of disaster basis?
Anyway, it is time to do something different, whilst I work on my ailing health on the pretense that I feel remotely positive or optimistic about finally seeing my beloved in person.