Leo 12° (August 3)

Day Twelve

Last night was a bit of a blow out. I think because of feeling stalled, as I said yesterday, we might have gone a bit to far. We weren’t really supposed to. After a late night last night after canapés of beatroot and cream, and salami and truffle, and a dinner of squid ink linguine with shrimps, and some kind of berry pie, ate in front of the tele watching Godfather 2, puntuated with crunches of popcorn (I gave our cheesey variety we picked up in Ketchikan to the crew). Anyway when I got up to pee everyone but Aine was gone; so we finished watching G2 and drank more red wine and then we watched half of Bridesmaids with some brandy. She didn’t really watch the TV; instead she was texting her boyfriend I suppose. I kept redirecting her to the screen until I just gave up. Anyway it was nice to hang out with her alone; I was feeling a bit like she was angry at me since we got on board. Maybe because I suggested she not feed the dog while at the table lest Bronte not leave her alone for the rest of the trip. Anyway I know nothing could be further from the truth and that, if she was irked, she was irked in a way that friends can be with one another. I have true affection for her and I believe it’s mutual.

Anyway, I still got up early today, which was another foggy semi stuck day. They were peddling English muffins but I stuck to fruit. It seems the only time I have any wiillpower at all is at breakfast; actually that’s not really true. I seem to be doing okay. The whole John Derian thing has been bubbling up in me again. I feel so hurt at what happened. And I wish I hadn’t retaliated with such force as I had. The fact is he was an abuser all the years we were friends; and a gaslighter, which he continues to be. I’ve noticed a marked change in what might be labelled our mutual friends. But my challenge is to transcend it. I can’t be stuck in that sort of crap. I have such good friends and such a good consultancy and even the festival, though it is like pulling teeth this year, provides some sense of pleasure and purpose. I just want more of it. And who would have seen what was to come this day. Wow.

So lunch was a delicious chicken cacciatore with white asparagus salad and roasted potatoes and some kind of sorbet i don’t remember what exactly. I did a lot of outreach in advance of my work-time in Reading and that felt right to a point. It is easy for me to overdue this type of work. It’s where I get a bit addicty. Anyway this was the day I stayed in room mainly; and I sort of waited for my head to clear which it ultimately did. And then suddenly, with the time change I guess, it was dinner time and boy oh boy. We had canapés of crab circled in cucumber sheets—delicious and light—and then very lean lamb loin with veal sweetbreads, which I normally don’t eat, but did (also ate S.’s) and what seemed like drugged Rioja. The dinner theme was sort of creature-like, we all had masks, and we were supposed to come up with a name for our character and also a mythos. I got as far as naming myself (a leopard) Silenzio; and S. who was a deer/stag called herself Batchel. The conversation centered on what kind of man men are. We had the story about “dégage” and Mr. Big Voice which, thankfully, I didn’t have to employ; and J. told story about her creepy uncle. We were planning on playing charades but instead the crew had set up a game for us the name of which escapes me; but it was good fun and took hours to play as Rioja fueled conversation welted and weaved through our foggy, cabin fevered brains.

The next thing I knew it was nearly 5am and I had fallen asleep—and snored!—on the sofa whilst Aine and J. and S girl-talked for hours. The latest night of all and it ended with me munching down on a thousand pistachios as I made my way to bed to sleep for four hours.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols cluminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days.

 Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
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