Sunday, February 28, 2010

"Savin' all my love for you..."

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Well, St Botolph’s is back online. I said to Freddie, ‘About time too. If you can’t organise a better internet service than this, I will take my custom to another lunatic asylum.’
Freddie just smiled that enigmatic smile of his, and then he said, ‘It sounds very important to you… the internet, I mean.’
‘It is,’ I responded with alacrity, ‘It’s my only way of communicating with the outside world.’
‘How do well do feel you are communicating in here… with you fellow residents?’
‘You mean patients, Freddie, that’s what they are: patients.’ I was getting a bit annoyed, especially as I was trying to log-on at the time.’
‘I see them as residents.’ Replied Freddie, completely unfazed by my tone. ‘What about the staff? Do you feel comfortable with them? Are you able to talk to them?’
I had just managed to log-on to Blogspot, so I said, ‘I don’t mean to be rude, Freddie, but could we leave this until my therapy session?’
‘Of course’ he replied, ‘But I would like you to think of your whole experience here with us as therapy – not just our ‘one-to-one sessions.’
‘I will, Freddie. Promise.’


Now look here my little Swedish saucepot , the wart to which I allude is on the outside of the thigh and not the inside. I have not been embracing any woman, clean or unclean. This is not for the want of opportunity, I might add – there are a few pretty ladies in here, and does not Freddie say that he wishes me to see my whole experience in here as therapy? But have I not told you that I am, as the song says, “Savin’ all my love for you.”
So I thought your response was un-called for, and perhaps a little on the crude side. I know you believe in calling a spade a spade but this time you gave it a real shovel-full. Not to worry, for I know you have only my interests at heart.

As regards Brian and his futon, it is his business if he chooses to reject a big double-bed – and yourself – in favour of this Japanese plank. I do not know why he is so obstinate; he could just sleep beside you, for the warmth and companionship; surely this would not represent a betrayal of his love for Winston? But, as I say, it is his business.

I will close now, they are coming round with the cocoa.

Chastely yours
George

Friday, February 26, 2010

Hello Georgie

You may not be getting receipt of this because your computer network might not yet be fixed like you were saying for a couple of days. But I am sending anyway.

No, you have not been telling me previous about wart. You have not been I hope copulating with unclean woman? If you wish to do such thing you should heed my advice what I previously advise which is the safe sex, and this mean the use of condom. Woman who is on pill or perhaps having fitted the coil may be safe from pregnant circumstances but you, my Georgie, will not be safe from horrible infections this woman may be secreting within her body. Like I say to you beforetimes, better to go with professional working girl who have regular checks-up down below, if you are understanding me? The passion may be carrying you away but does not take minute to pause and slip on protective sheath, which is condom. It is not for me to give the advice but I am doing.

I am cooking for supper tonight the beef-burgers. This not the muck they are selling down street at cheapo shop but these from fine store of Marks & Spencer which are 100% of the Aberdeen Agnes. This cow come from Scotland which is bloody backwards country but produces fine beef.

Brian still insist sleeping on Japanese wooden bed which is called Futon, instead of sharing big double-size bed with Anna. I tell him – ok buster, but your lookout if result is damaged spine which is hard to fix.

Anyway, I am hoping you see this and reply as soon as you can.

Your loving Anna

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

You want to get that looked at!

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Did I tell you about my wart, Anna?

It started as a sort of blemish on my left thigh. I kept touching it, and, almost imperceptibly, it grew bigger. Well, I showed it to Derek the other day (he’s another inmate – self harm) and he said ‘You want to get that looked at.’ So I did.

Not by Freddie, of course: we have other doctors – don’t forget, even mad folk can get physical ailments – and this lovely Indian lady had a shufti at it. She touched it gently with her doctor's fingers and said ‘It is a wart, caused by a viral infection. You can have it removed if you wish. We freeze it with liquid nitrogen.’
‘Thanks, but I’ll leave it for now.’ I said. ‘If it starts to bother me then I will have it done.’
She smiled. ‘Is there anything else I can help you with, this morning?’
‘No thank you,’ I smiled back ‘not that I can think of at the moment.’


I am glad you have decided to eschew the bus driving, Anna. Perhaps it is best if you just jog along as you are for a bit, and wait for something to turn up (like Mr Mcawber said).

Oh, and before I forget: they are updating the computer system here, so I may be off-line for a couple of days. I am just telling you so you won’t panic and think I have been ‘electrified’ - like the West Coast Line (Little joke there!).

Must dash. Breakfast time. Kippers this morning.

Oh, and thanks for your feedback on “letting go”, it was really valuable.
I am working on the “Letting go” thing. It is difficult, but I am improving.

Move along down the bus.

Yours as ever

George

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

I go yesterday for ride on Brian’s bus. This is most satisfactory experience. Brian drives bus that is CIRCULAR – not bus itself is circular but route taken is circular. This mean it start from bus depot and go round certain bit of Purley and back to bus depot.

Brian gives me ticket when I board bus. I do not pay for this ticket because it what is called concession, which mean bus company is not requiring payment from people who is what you call senior citizenry. I am not senior citizenry so perhaps this is illegal – but only a bit.

But I would rather be the passenger than driver of this bus. What a stressing out occupation! Cars and trucks are being driven crazy like – especially white vans. (Brian make joke and say these people have not joined Highway Road Act – I do not understand this.)
We see many such lunatics and they are not bothering to give signals or indication of their intent, instead driving in front of bus and making driver apply very quickly the brakes. If bus is approaching bus stop and people standing in preparation to disembark, then they flung right up to front of bus. This is especially unsuitable for people with the concession ticket because many feeble with walking sticks, some even crutches. This process is adding much to their discomfort and possible injury. (I have concession ticket but am more flexible and able to withstand such knocking about.)

But even though all this happening I enjoy bus trip and will go again.
Though I have given up idea of career as driver. Happy I am for the moment to perform housewife (which I am not) duties.

You ask me if I think you are person who has difficulty with the letting go? Well, you always found it difficult to let go of Anna!! I am sorry - this is joke in the bad taste. Anna should not make such joke when you look to her for help.

I do remember how you were in bad stress when you sold the 4x4. You insisted on cleaning it out and polishing it so like it was brand new. You said it deserved it – like it was a human being. And you also thank it for the service it has given. Also I remember when the charity clothes people come round. You want to give but you find difficult to say goodbye to old clothes. Another thing you tell me is how you hoard up all notes and stuff what you done when studying for the exams and degree. And wife would nag at you to chuck all this useless garbage away. In the end you build big fire in garden and burn all this. But it takes big effort of mind. Then there is the millions of books what you never read but keep in case you are needing something from their pages. Piled upon the floor are these books in your study. One day I say to you – come, I will help you. And we sort all books you never have used for over a year and put them in two bin bags and take to charity shop. I have to hold your hand!!

So I say, Yes, my Georgie, you do have the difficulty in letting go. Perhaps Freddie will help with this?

But please do not go in for the electrifying stuff. You might forget who I am!!

I am your soon to be reunited lover.

Anna

Monday, February 22, 2010

Get what I mean?

Freddie had his analyst’s hat on. “You seem to put a lot of mental effort into a search for ‘meaning’.
“Do I?” I answered, playing him at his own game.
Undeterred, he continued. “Yes, you appear to be preoccupied with finding meaning in things which may be quite meaningless.”
“Nothing is meaningless.” I reply.
“Okay, but some things have no discernable meaning, and one could be wasting one’s lifetime searching.”
“Perhaps it is because I have the ‘philosopher’s temperament.’
Freddie smiled his enigmatic smile. “I’ll bet some psychiatrist told you that?”
“Well yes, actually. Don’t you think it’s true?”
“Oh yes, I would agree entirely – the question is, what do you do about it?”
Silence.
“Let me put it another way: You reject any religious ‘explanation’ of why we are here, what it’s ‘all about’, believing, if I understand correctly, in evolution and all that that implies – and yet you still seem to want to find a meaning – to life.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“Well, no, actually, but in any case it is you we are talking about, George.”
A longer silence, in which I sit looking at the ‘Anyone who goes to see a psychiatrist…’ card. It is on a slant, and I guess whoever cleans Freddie’s office has knocked it whilst dusting. He hasn’t bothered to straighten it.
Freddie doesn’t mind silences. I used to, but I have come to accept them as being as valuable as what is being said. So I just sit there.
It is my analyst who breaks the silence.
“And it’s not just the big questions, of life and death. Take, for example, when you asked me: does a horse know it’s a horse? We discussed that for the whole of one session. And I grant you, the question is of real importance to say, a zoologist or indeed a psychologist.”
“Well, there you are, then.”
“Yes, George, but it their job to study such questions, and they do it in a structured, methodological, scientific fashion. You, on the other hand, worry at it – like a dog with a bone. It is as if you just cannot let go.”
I don’t reply because what he is saying is a bit too close for comfort.
But he continues. “And that is only one example. People, and why they do the things they do: why cruelty and selfishness exist; why children suffer at the hands of parents, and at school; the plight of the homeless, the sick, the disadvantaged - the unfairness of things.” You seem to fret about these things, all the time.
“I would not say I fret – I think about them, but doesn’t everybody?” I am feeling pushed into a corner.
“Once again, George, the answer is ‘No, not everyone. But even those who do: the ‘socially responsible’, the concerned, are able to put it aside for a while and get on with their lives.”
“You mean I can’t?”
“ What you need to learn, George, is when to let go.”

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What about you, Anna – do you think I need to learn to let go?

Anyway I have been giving some thought to your dilemma. One the one hand, I have never seen you in the role of ‘kept woman’, but on the other hand you do your share in this relationship, vis a vis the house and things, so really you are not a kept woman.

The problem of Brian not getting his supper when he comes home is one only you and he can solve – or perhaps negotiate – for example taking turns with the culinary arrangements, ditto with the housework.

The other problem of the expired work permit is something that did not occur to me when I made the suggestion in the first place. I suppose it depends whether or not Brian knows someone high enough up in bus company hierarchy who could turn a blind eye to the lack of said document, or perhaps doctor the records to show you have indeed produced a valid permit. This is of course illegal, and I am not suggesting you break the law.

On balance, no, I do not think you should take the bus-driving route.

Oh, and by the way ‘Bending someone’s ear’ is just a figure of speech. It means ‘getting someone to listen to you… your problems.’

I have something else I want to say but Nigel is badgering me to have a game of pool.

Will talk later

Your George

Saturday, February 20, 2010

TWO PORK CHOPS. TWO EGGS FRIED IN PAN. BEANS BAKED FROM CAN.

This is what I cook in supper for Brian when he return from bus driving last night. Brian say he never had such good cooking since he work as chef in restaurant in Warrington many years ago. I do not know this place Warrington but must be good for the food.

I enjoy looking after for Brian in his little flat what is provided by the council and which is on 9th floor of this building giving fine views except lifts do not sometimes work – which is bugger. But when I am in kitchen I can look over park, which have skateboarding facility, and young fit boys are zooming up and down special slopes and doing their tricks. This is fine entertainment which cost me nothing. I also enjoy the cleaning of flat with vacuum cleaner (like what I done at Wynorin but here gets more appreciation) and also the watering of plants in Brian’s window boxes. I also do washing and such other things like housewife which I am not. But is nice steady life and never having to take clothes off except for bathing and bedtime.

Anyway I tell Brian about your good idea for me to get job as bus driver. He say his company always look out for new drivers and welcome women. They have bus drivers Brian say from all walk of life like teacher and accountant and skilled bricklayer and others from shop retail trade. This is not to mention Brian from walk of chef.

Brian also say they give you training and also take you round road route which your bus will go to pick up public. Buses he say are 40ft long and heavy as 10 ton. But not to worry because they have the power steering and much easier to handle than you might be thinking and also during busy times have own paths on road which no other vehicle may use.

So bus driver sound exciting thing to be but snags are appearing. For the first thing who would cook the pork chops and such to have ready when Brian come home if I am also driving the buses? There is also other fly in jelly which is work permit no longer in validation, and Bus Company is sure going to check this. Then what trouble am I in?

This is truly dilemma and must need to consider.


One thing puzzling me what you say in your post – why do you take hold of ear of barmaid in such fashion? In Sweden such behaviour would have you ejaculated from bar bloody quick and possible arrested for assaulting working girl.

But please give me advice on bus driving, and what should I do.

Your eagerly awaiting

Anna

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Every cloud has a silver lining

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Psychiatrists used to be called ‘mad doctors’. Did you know that, Anna?
It didn’t mean that folk thought them mad, but rather that they were doctors who treated ‘mad’ people. Evenually the 'mad doctors' came to call themselves 'psychiatrists'

I think you have to be a bit mad to be a psychiatrist. Or perhaps you just become that way, having to listen to the confused, the frightened, the disturbed, the demented, the psychotic – the patients who demand your time, your skills, your empathy, your patience, your understanding; on a daily basis; it must have an affect.

I think Freddie is a bit mad. He has a sign hanging in his office that says ‘Anyone who goes to see a psychiatrist needs his head examining’. I said to him, ‘Sam Goldwyn said that’.
‘Yes, I know.’ He replied. ‘Good innit!’

Freddie is not just a psychiatrist he is also a psychoanalyst – which means he is at the top of his profession. Psychiatrists treat their patients with pills, analysts treat them with words – Freddie does both.



Now then, Anna, this fire at the club may turn out to be for the best – for you, I mean. I did not like the idea of you being a barmaid – nothing wrong with barmaids (I’ve bent the ear of many a young lady pulling my pint), but really Anna it is a bit below the social level of someone like yourself. You deserve better.
And it occurs to me that your friend, Brian may be of help here. You say he is a bus driver? Well, why not ask him to put in a word for you at the bus depot? You have a full British driving licence (remember how you used to do the school run with young Syd, in the 4 x 4?), and they would train you to get your PSV. From what I hear, they are taking on more and more women drivers. And you know how you like wearing uniform - and how I like you in it too!! I would be happy to write you a reference.

Let me know what you think.

Your loving

George

Monday, February 15, 2010

Oh Georgie such terrible disaster is happening which is why I have unable to be the respondent to you but now I am.

In the early Sunday morning club DISLOCATION is burning to ground down. Lucky no person is in place since closes at 2am. But even more lucky was fact that your Anna is also not in place because having to live there means she likely be sound asleep at this time and not notice smell of smoke before flames come and burn her to cinder. But this does not happen because Winston and Brian are having party in their flat and invite Anna.

As the dawn is breaking Brian looking out of window says – red sky in morning is sailor’s warning. I do not know what this shit mean but some kind of proverb it is or something.

But this time no proverb because glow in sky come from club.

And later come from club the police (best in world, British police – the buggers) on account of because they are suspecting work of arson person. Mr Smith (owner of club) have many enemies so police getting him out of bed (not his bed but bed of lap pole dancing girl – how they know where he is I do not know, but Mr Smith suspect wife of setting on to him private invigilator).

Anyway the one thing is leading on to the other and while we sit down to breakfast made by Brian (though he drives buses he really is chef but cannot get job due to unfortunate incidence with the salmonella poisoning) police arrive – 12 of them, because Mr Smith tells about Winston and his shovel hands and police have checked and find Winston is escaping from her Majesties pleasure.

Such a fight occurs. I get so excited I nearly have orgasm. Winston with his huge fists knocks out three constables before they geT handcuffs onto him and chuck him in back of van.
Brian is unconsolable even though I try to console him. His boyfriend has been removed in abrupt fashion. What shall he do?

Well, he ask me to stay at flat with him for a time, which I agree do but he does not want me sleep in same bed because as I said he is gay person. Though I would not mind doing so since I have shared bed with gay person before but perhaps this for best since he is crying all time for Winston and would keep me awake – also wet bed.

Anyway I am typing this in internet café since laptop has gone up in fiery furnace of club.

I surprise myself Freddie want to electrify you in this fashion. Because he seem good man, very friendly on telephone - but has wife who also is head doctor he tell me. He also tell me you are doing well and soon okay to be having the visitors. I can’t wait for such time. Do you have own room? For the privacy?

Glad we now connected again.

Aching for you

Anna

Sunday, February 14, 2010

An offer I CAN refuse

************************************

I was washing my face this morning – it’s a habit I have – and I thought: what is a face? It’s just a piece of skin stretched over a lump of bone.
As I type this I get a feeling of déjà vu – have I said this before? No matter.

But to get to the point. Freddie said to me, yesterday, ‘How would you feel about a short course of ECT?’

‘What’s that?’, I asked, ‘Educational Corrective Training?’

‘Now, come on George,’ retorted the good doctor, ‘you know quite well what ECT is: Electro-Convulsive-Therapy. I think it might speed up your recovery.’

‘No. Thank you.’

‘It’s not like it was in the old days.’ Persisted my physician. ‘You’ll be under a general anaesthetic, and when you wake up, it’s all over and done with, and Bob’s your uncle.’

‘From what I’ve heard, I probably won’t know whether Bob is my uncle or not; doesn’t a few thousand volts through the temporal lobes sometimes cause a bit of memory loss? Long term? Or short term? I can’t remember which.’

‘Oh, very funny. Yes, there may be some temporary memory loss, but we have to balance that against the positive gains from the treatment.’

‘Well, I’m not having it.’ It was meant to be a firm refusal but it sounded rather petulant.

Freddie sighed. ‘Okay, it’s your choice.’

‘Indeed it is.’ I replied.

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But Anna – where are you? Why have you not responded to my previous post? You’re not on your way back home to Sweden, are you?

All this uncertainty does nothing to help my speedy recovery.

Please communicate with me.

Your lover

George

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Why do guide dogs look so miserable?

I asked Freddie this and, as usual, he answered one question with another.
“Is that how they look to you? Miserable?”

Well, yes, I said. But I suppose I could be misinterpreting their expression. Maybe they are just worried. I mean, it must be a big responsibility, looking after a blind person: making sure they don’t bump into lamp-posts or fall down open drains – or get knocked down crossing the road.

Freddie said, “I have noticed that in our conversations you talk a lot about responsibility.”
Do I, I replied. I hadn’t noticed.
“Do you in some way feel responsible for these guide dogs?”
Don’t be silly, I retorted. I was becoming a little bit annoyed.
Freddie ignored this, and went on, “Okay. Let me put it another way: You seem to be able to put yourself in their shoes – or their paws, I should say.” He gave a little chuckle.
I did not join in.

So he went on. “You do this with people too. Do you remember, in our first meeting, you said that it must be highly stressful for me, being a psychiatrist – working all day with us ‘nutters’, as you put it. It was as if you were concerned about me… overly concerned, perhaps. Are you concerned about people, generally?”

I was beginning to feel a bit uneasy, the way this conversation was going. “Perhaps I have a low empathy threshold.” I laughed.
This time it was Freddie who did not join in. “Can you sees where concern might spill over into ‘taking responsibility, George?”


But I don’t want to talk about this, Anna. I want to thank you for ringing Freddie. I know he won’t let you come and visit me – yet. But he has allowed me access to a computer… and the net. Under strict supervision of course.

I am sorry about your unfortunate discovery - that Winston is gay. But you still seem to be friends – and it’s good to have a friend in a place like Purley. Also you have a job. I know being a barmaid is a bit degrading for someone who has been a professional porn movie star, but it is at least a job.

For the moment we will communicate via this blog, but I am sure Freddie will soon allow you to visit me here. In fact I do not expect to be in this place much longer. Not that I have any complaints; they treat me very well. I don’t have to make any decision, and my food is always on the table at proper mealtimes.

Oh, and don’t be too hard on Hector. Yes, he is boorish, insensitive, a cheat and a liar… but he means well. He had a difficult childhood.

I see Norah has been in touch. She’s not a bad old bird. You know that her dad bought Wynorin? He is using it as a sort of weekend retreat for his senior managers, to have what he calls ‘bonding sessions’.

Not like the bonding sessions we used to have there, eh?

Oh, I shall have to stop – I am getting too excited. It is time for my medication.

Look forward to hearing from you.

Your loving

George

Monday, February 08, 2010

Thank you Ms Sponce for your concerning for my well being. Do not worry. But I will be telling you what is transpiring when it is happening for your information because I am sure you would like to know.

Well Mr Hector. It is unlike me to refuse offer from man but in the case of yourself this is what I do. I am not liking the chauvinistic (correct word, yes?) attitude or tone to me. I am not piece of meat to be purchase like over counter in shop. No.

Also, I show your post to my friend Winston who takes dislike to you intensely. And Winston is offering to give you the facial lifting without benefit of anasthetic if you come here.

And Winston has the hands like shovels what miners use – except with fingers.

Other thing is, when Winston see name of George’s doctor he recognise this man because he once ordered by court for the psychiatric treatment and this man Foggatty is man he is seeing. And also he think he remembers name of loony bin in which he too was incapacitated and is probably same one what my George now in.

So I am not needing meeting with you Hector and you will have to find other floozie to fill full your strange desires for, as the great Bob Dylan say… It aint me babe.

Tuesday, February 02, 2010

I read your comment Mister Hector but I do not believe you. (and you are not proper brother to George but only his half a brother)

Yes, I remember the time at Wynorrin when you try to get into my knickers (even though I do not wear such things but know it is expression what you English use). Also you think because I am professional actress (ex)in porn movie industry that I am also trollope who will do whatever bizarre practice what you desire, which is not true.)

Anyway if my Georgie is in loony bin what is name and where it is? So that I may telephone and find out if you speak truth.

Excuse me for being so suspect but after living in this place Purley for few weeks I am trusting not anyone. However if you can supply with name of place in what George is incapacitated then I maybe change mind and arrange meeting with you possibly.