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Saturday 5 November 2011

Ethics, Love and Dinner.


I love my Beloved.

Every day, in many ways I demonstrate my devotion to my Beloved.


So I we went swimming.

I don't actually hate swimming, I just deeply loath it, especially in the cooler months.  Swimming in a blue and glittering private pool, under an azure sky in the summer is sophisticatedly sublime, especially when accompanied by long, cold G & Ts with home grown Lemon and plenty of ice.

Oh Yes, absolutely

Swimming in a public pool in early (f*cking frigid) Spring, dodging the floating faeces, foulmouthed and smelly sub-human teenagers, under the baleful view of Gestapo-stereotypical "Safety Officers" who blow whistles at me for having a friendly (and sanctioned) grope with my Beloved, but ignore the screaming foulmouthed kids swarming like like aquatic lice everywhere, including the Giant Jacuzzi.

AAGGHHH...Horrible

Ahhh, The public Giant Jacuzzi or Spa Bath.
Let's examine this modern addition to public pools everywhere.
It's a giant cauldron, full of bubbling aerated water, full of people who probably haven't had a bath in weeks, and who definitely have ignored the signs to have a shower before entering the spa.
Let's face it, you're lowering yourself into a pot of people soup.

Oh, Look, they're making People Soup.  Yum, yum         *retch*

Oh, look at the shiny layer of human fat on the surface!

Oh. look at the foam caused by the exfoliating skin cells, ear wax, smegma, belly-button lint and arse-crack deposits!

Oh, look at the extra bubbles caused by methane gas release from the guts of diseased and probably syphilitic morons!

Do you dare step into a public Jacuzzi again?

I know that when forced to do so by my smiling (but obviously insane Beloved), I take a bath in concentrated bleach as soon as I can.  The pain of the dermal cells sloughing off, can be regarded as a "good pain", knowing that the Jacuzzi-produced slime from the lower-order contamination is being destroyed.

So we went swimming.

It had been a long and exhausting week at NLHS, and I was knackered.
Getting up every day at 05:30 to arrive early enough to set up the relief teaching is bad, but when combined with staying until 18:00 (to let some of my students desperately try to complete a late assessment) plus sacrificing every lunchtime (for the same reason) then it really becomes exhausting.

My Beloved has had a very trying week as well.

She has had to be up by 10:00  twice this week, so she can attend her Ti Chi class and subsequent coffee and character assassination session, plus of course the monumentally draining twice weekly Mah Jong & Gin sessions with her friends.

So when she said she was really too tired to drive to the pool, I understood.

Oh Yes, I understood.

Now this is where the ethics come in.
I've always understood that when you love somebody, then their happiness takes on a greater importance than your own.
I love my Beloved. I know she likes to go swimming together, so I go along, because her happiness is important to me.
However, I don't like to go swimming, and I've made this concept perfectly clear to my Beloved, yet she insists that we go, "For The Good Of My Health"
There's something wrong,but can't quite put my finger on it.

Maybe one of you nice readers can help.

Please HELP.

However, after we left the pool (my skin still itching from the hypochlorite scrubbing and exfoliation it had just endured) my Beloved asked what I would like for dinner that evening.

How exfoliation works

I suggested a carry-out, like Fish & Chips (I said this because I knew my Beloved was still suffering from nausea and she might not wish to cook.  Honestly.  That was the only reason.  It had nothing to do with my love of chips. Nothing.)  But she said, no, there was plenty of food in the house.

I decided that I would have an omelet.  I do make good omelets, and I knew that with the cheese, bacon and mushrooms in the fridge, I could have quite a substantial snack meal.


Ha.

I had forgotten one basic fact.

My son (he of the pierced earlobe and tattooed forearm showing a delightfully rendered image of the Mexican Day of the Dead with the addition of a Chinese script which he was told meant "May the Lord Bless You" but which really says "I've got a Bastard of a Cold") was at home and planning to go out that evening.  And he was hungry.

So when I got home I smelled cooking in the air, but wasn't overly concerned, UNTIL I discovered that:
He had finished ALL of the eggs
He had finished ALL but 2 rashers of the bacon
He had finished ALL of the mushrooms.

I (after my blood pressure descended below the stratospheric) said it didn't really matter, and that I would just make some instant noodles.


Well, bugger me with a Battleship; would you believe that he had finished off ALL of the instant noodles as well?

I did discover a couple of tomatoes, and half of an avocado that the devouring machine known as my son had inadvertently left, and along with the 2 remaining rashers of bacon made a pleasant sandwich between 2 slices of toast.  (It was only 2 slices, it had to be just 2 slices, because that was all the bread he had left in the house.)

I had really been looking forward to that omelet.

Bastard.
Face me you evil bastard(Image from highdarktemplar.deviantart.com)

WARNING.

During the research for the image files on the web, I came across this blog site.

Enter at your peril chaps.

The words I was using as keywords in the image search was "Good Pain"

The blog was : http://domdominique.wordpress.com/2010/05/06/tell-me-about-the-pain-mistress/

You were warned.

15 comments:

  1. Ouch!
    OK, I was warned but thought I'd sneak a peek before bed. That was a mistake. I wonder what my dreams will be of tonight.

    ReplyDelete
  2. TC: Probably being chased around a ship full of Chardon by a Russian customs officer with a whip and high heels.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I did not click on the link, thank God!

    That swimming experience sounds vile. I don't go swimming for much the same reason. Plus, my friend took her 11 month old baby to the pool and didn't put him in a swim nappy, so not only was the poor wee bugger utterly water-logged when he was lifted out, but whatever was in his nappy was shared with the rest of us.

    Nah, I don't go swimming. I go power-hooping :-)

    AX

    ReplyDelete
  4. "Well, bugger me with a Battleship; "
    What a wonderful phrase! Blackadder would have been proud to have uttered that.
    Just off now to check out your link. I'll be back to comment...

    ReplyDelete
  5. AliX: Your friend'sbaby is exactly the reason I don't want to go either; alas,my Beloved insists.

    Power-hooping? Is that a method of forcing partners to jump through hoops of your choice?

    Richard [of RBB]: Thanks, I like it. I didn't say the other blog was nice, just different. Wouldn't it be fun however, if we let her loose on 10DK?

    ReplyDelete
  6. That site is the work of the devil.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Oh Gosh. I never liked swimming in those pools either for the same hygiene reasons. Haven't been in them for years. May explain why I am still living eh?

    As for sonny boy - maybe time he left home for goodness sake at 25! My girls are back for the summer break from uni but there are conditions. Like cooking for the whole family once a week.

    Have a good week TSB and enjoy it as the Seniors go for the year. I guess you won't be using external relief teachers anymore then eh?

    ReplyDelete
  8. Angry Jesus: You're too kind.

    Valley Girl: Yep, public pools are nasty.My OS has been flatting three times, but always returned home. Maybe the next time will be the charm.
    Oh, yes, next week I can choose from ALL of the teachers. I can control their fates. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.*coughs, but with an evil sneer*

    ReplyDelete
  9. It's unfortunate that I was eating while reading this. Municipal public pools are loathsome. Swimming in them is like taking a bath with your entire city. Pooping in public pools is common enough that our city has a policy about it: no refunds if everybody is forced to leave the pool because of poop. It takes hours for the water to be decontaminated, and I've talked to angry friends who had just paid their admission and not even put a toe in the water and everyone had to be evacuated for poop. Yuck.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Patience_Crabstick: Sorry if I inadvertently spoilt your appetite, that was not my intent.

    I completely agree about the poop in the pool; we've been told to leave twice in the last year through such contamination, but I suppose it's better than what happened in a (5*) hotel pool in Aussie. While we were swimming, poop was spotted, and while all the bathers levitated from the pool, the attendant merely scooped the floater out of the pool with what looked suspiciously like a shrimping net, sprayed the water with some bleach and announced the pool was open again.
    When challenged by me and couple of others, he said the filtration system would fix it and to stop being such a bunch of softies. (He actually mumbled something about "Pommie Poofters")

    We left.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Yes and what about Varuccas! The only time me or any of my family have ever got them is from bloody public pools! My younger daughter had a crop so bad it took 8 treatments of cold ice freezer burning by the nurse at the local health centre to finally irradicate the horrible little viruses! And the cost! GRRRrrrr. She is no longer fond of swimming in any pools now. No wonder!

    ReplyDelete
  12. VG: Oh yes I forgot about those pesky Varuccas, I got a bad dose from a public pool when I was a kid. The chiropodist had to slowly cut them out with a scalpel over several weeks.

    ReplyDelete
  13. I like swimming in the sea, but with the memories of the strange relaxant effect that sea water used to have on my bladder as a toddler I'm probably lucky to be alive.

    ReplyDelete
  14. looby: Just don't come for a swim in my pool. Relaxation; yes. Sphincter relaxation; no.

    ReplyDelete

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