[From about a month ago, in late May – a sketch with no particular punch line.]
A lovely day... very warm by local standards, but relatively normal by my own, and those of Californian (and Australian and Italian and Spanish) friends....
Good things happened. Not the Dionysian spectacles of a few weeks ago, but a more regular day... sun, air. Across the street kids, probably uni students who have done most of their work, sat on the front porch, threw a ball around; the women downstairs ate lunch outside on their deck, sitting on the steps and talking.
I did some writing – masses to do, to different ends: but, most interestingly from my point of view, a sense of easiness about whether it gets done or not... I know the material for the Jung-Institut exams is late; and I realised today that if they said, no, too late, you have to wait for February, I'd be disappointed but not really upset.
Time unrolls, and is not such a problem.
Only one analysand today, and one student came by; both meetings went well.
Off to the hospital, Mark and I do our usual tell-the-story-of-our-lives-interspersed-with-statistics-and-overviews for medical students on rotation to Infectious Diseases (in our case, HIV)...
Then Mark had to dash across town, with me following more slowly – he had to pick up The Cake!... our HIV patient group (the one that's been around for years, not the new one) had its fourteenth anniversary (well: approximately – within a month or so of the date, anyway) at a local pub; a sunny, open place, big wooden tables – we brought food, about 20-25 people showed up, so that was good.
(They had a chocolate cake that was so sweet that I felt a bit like a kid at a birthday party after a piece of it – body signals that I should run around and yell and grab other kids' toys until someone comes to collect me....)
Then walked into town, bumped into Aleksandra and a friend of hers at a coffee shop, both of whom are doing postgraduate work on LGBTQ topics, and talked to them for a bit.
Then Kev's gay and lesbian (LGBTQRXY∆ˆ) reading group, where we talked about Jeannette Winterson's later memoir Why Be Happy when You Could Be Normal?. We spent time arguing over meanings, but everyone liked it...
and then sat outside a restaurant, in the long plaza that comes down from Grey's Monument, at tables, with a bottle of wine, talking until nine p.m. or so.
As I think of it – it suggests a different culture, doesn't it?...
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