Picos Gemeos

It’s been 11 days since I tested positive for COVID. On the night I started feeling ill, I had just met my old book club (made up mostly of retired people) but thankfully none of them caught it from me. Tony, however, an older man I’ve been seeing (more on him in another post), let me sleep over his house and also came down with it. He had it much worse, spending at one point 24 hours in bed unable to leave it or eat anything.

I’d been staying outside of London, in Coulson South, with an old friend from Hong Kong, Silke, and her new family (her partner of three years and his two 8-year-old daughters) and they took good care of me. Silke made me take the test as soon as I returned from Tony's. It was the first time I’d tested positive.

I had a big, comfortable guestroom, with a TV with all the streaming channels, plus food sometimes brought to me by Silke, or sometimes left in the kitchen for me to collect and bring back to my “prison” (as we began to affectionately call my bedroom.) I also started a temp job with a large school organisation (data entry; moving their website content from an old site to a new one), which I was able to comfortably do from the “prison”.

I’m really glad I took four jabs. I have no doubt my symptoms would have been worse if I hadn’t. It mostly felt like a cold, with brain fog. 10 days later, I was still testing positive but feeling back to normal, so we made the decision I could come out of the prison and no longer wear the mask.

I’m now in West London, house sitting for two weeks for a couple of friends on holiday in Brazil. Then I return to the East End, to stay in a friend’s basement for three weeks… and then I fly back to Brazil with my dad! Hopefully I’ll get to see everyone I’d love to see before I return. I have no idea when I’ll be able to visit the UK again.

My BFF Bia has bought me a ticket to London. I arrive on 26 Jan 2023 and presumably return 25 April. I say presumably because there is the option to extend – or anticipate – the return, if needed.

My lovely friends Vini and Vince (VinVin - “it’s a VinVin situation!”) have offered for me to stay with them for a month. Lovely Kirsten has also said I could stay with her in Bromley; other friends have made generous offers. Closer to my departure date, I'm sending out an email to all and checking if anyone needs house/cat/dog sitting, or know of a room that can be rented for a few months. Just so I can be sure that my housing needs are fairly well covered during those 3 months.

I’ve spoken to a few recruitment agencies and they guarantee that I can find temp work straight away. This eases my mind as I will be arriving with nearly nothing in my pockets! My plan is to: start temping immediately, start attending interviews for permanent roles, and negotiate a contract that I can do remotely from Brazil for part of the year. The ideal scenario for me would be 1 or 2 months in the UK, followed by 6 in Brazil, with then another 1 or 2 months in the UK – and so on.

Some people say that it’s not possible – that remote work is only accepted if done within the UK. However, I know some people who are working for UK charities from Spain, Australia and some African countries. I know of charities where it’s asked that you come in once a month but hardly anyone goes in. And I know of roles that are being advertised but getting no suitable responses. I’m hoping they’ll look at me and think: “well, he has the experience, he wants to make it work and while he’s in the UK he’s happy to come into the office as often as possible to make up for the months he is away in Brazil.”

With housing and work sorted out, I want to enjoy seeing my friends again. And I want to see my dad and his wife, and talk about my dad’s future and his care (he also has dementia, like my mom.) I want to go for a run around Victoria Park, eat things I haven’t eaten since I returned to Brazil (like asparagus and feta cheese – though I hear I better eat as many eggs as I can before I fly to the UK as they are now incredibly expensive?!) I want to appreciate every moment I have in London because who knows what comes next? Another 3 years without being able to visit?? We just can’t be sure of anything anymore.

I’ve been reading back my LiveJournal chronologically. I’m currently at January 2007, working for the National Theatre, and a few months into my East End flat that would be my home for the next 7 years. It has made me realise that keeping a LiveJournal was one of the best decisions I ever made. I had forgotten so many things! I am so grateful that Younger Ollie kept such detailed entries, that he sometimes just wrote about regular days – going to a picnic, watching a movie, making dinner, catching the tube, living with Kevin - because those are the memories that I cherish the most now, and I’m glad they are saved and I can return to them when I wish.

I started LJ in 2002 as a way of keeping in touch with friends in Brazil. Then it became a place for me to meet new people – and I made some friends who would become the closest people I have in my life. At its height of popularity, I was writing for them – and others that stumbled upon me – and was making a concerted effort to be a better writer. Then people left but I kept going at it, using it as place to store my memories.

I haven’t posted much these past 3 years because my life as an Alzheimer’s carer, and guesthouse manager, is mostly made up of silences. Days blend into each other. And when I write, it’s just for myself. Private entries.

I’m going to make a concerted effort to share online again – a journal of my adventures in London. Because I know Old Ollie will one day look back and appreciate this.

I have tentative plans to return to London this September. Either I go for a couple of weeks, to see my dad and friends, or I go for a few months (4-5) to work as a temp and send money home.

My brother didn’t like the idea at first. ‘Are you going to leave me alone with mom?!’ But a few days later he said it would be good as I could then see our dad, who has now been diagnosed with early Alzheimer’s. I need to sit down with him and his wife and look at what’s planned for his future.

The exchange rate is good. If I could send home 1000 pounds per month, that would be around 6 to 7K Brazilian reais for my brother, which is plenty to pay for all bills plus a companion for my mom during the day. The guesthouse is really quiet at the moment. Inflation last year was 20% and, so far this year, 30%. Some things, like petrol, have gone up over 100%. The first thing to go when a recession bites is tourism...

I contacted my old recruitment agency in London and they said they’d find me work, no problem. My main worry is housing and that it’s cheap enough so I can save money. I hear London is even more expensive now. I’m considering house and cat sitting, or one of those agencies that places you in a building that needs a guardian to stop squatters.

When I read my old Livejournal posts from back in 2004, all I did was complain about temping... I guess this time around things are different: I’m more experienced, and I know it would be for just a short time until I could fly home again. I could probably ask for a higher rate.

In an ideal world, I'd spend half of my year in London working, and the other half in Brazil with my family.

I'm about to go on holiday! I've taken a week off though I'm not sure if I'm going anywhere. I'm definitely not getting in a plane as my boyfriend really doesn't like them (neither do I, to be honest.)

What I'm sure: I'll be off email, social networks and my mobile phone for the whole time. I want a complete digital break (though I reserve the right to playing a bit of Wii if I get bored of my books and letter writing!)

The last time I went off the grid was during a week in Crete a few years ago with king_prawn neenaw and wink_martindale It was momentarily interrupted when NeeNaw's mom called to announce Wacko Jacko had died.

What to do with my spare time? Day trips outside of London? Horror and sci-fi novels? The local pool? Zombies, Run? Sleep? Creative Writing? Perhaps a few nights in a B&B? Art exhibitions?

Going with the flow.

I bought a copy of Walt Whitman's poems before yesterday because I've been wanting to revisit Leaves of Grass after hearing him mentioned in My Dinner With Andre. I read Whitman in university and seem to remember my professor not liking him too much; I was a fan though.

I found his poetry collection in that second hand bookshop just by Waitrose in Bloomsbury (the one you go down steps and it's like a Borgean maze of dusty classics.) The book was on the floor, at the top of a poetry pile, waiting for me. £3.

My Dinner With Andre has also made me think/notice about people choosing to dress like what they think they are. I.e. terrorists look like terrorists, designers look like designers, hipsters look like hipsters, bankers look like bankers. We (unconsciously?) try to fit into the stereotype of what we think we should be or look like. Have you noticed? Just watch the news and you'll see confirmation of that.

Who am I? Whom do I look like? I see pictures of myself from 5, 6 years ago and realise how gray my hair has become.

I've also been this week to a launch party by a famous British rapper, and written a letter to a famous dancer (now retired) asking if she'd like me to teach her how to use emails and the internet.

Yesterday, I witnessed two women getting into a fight at the bus stop outside Westfield Stratford. One of them was wearing a hijab and looked Somalian; she was sitting down beside three white British women when she suddenly broke into a loud, angry rant. She accused them of making remarks about her hijab and called them some bad words. Everyone looked at her as if she was mentally ill. A few minutes later, she made a phone call and, during it, began to make offensive comments about the women again. One of them couldn't take it any longer and shouted back: how dare you be racist to me? Somalian lady replied that no British woman shouted at her, which only made the other one shout louder.

An elderly man (muslim as well) tried to calm things as well as the British woman's daughter, but in vain. I saw a policeman walking towards us and made gestures at the daughter that the police was coming. When she understood she tried to stop her mom, but by now there was no stopping that verbal war. More police arrived and the Somalian woman tried to leave. But the police were having none of it - they wanted an explanation as to what was going on. Now Somalian lady looked meek and perhaps aware she was in deep shit (witnesses were also not being allowed to leave - perhaps because it was a suspected racial incident?) I picked up my shopping bags and quickly made a getaway for the Tube.

Later, on my way to friends for a Twin Peaks Marathon, I saw police cars and firetrucks outside my building. People were looking up at the tower block next to ours... one of the flats was on fire.

This morning, I'm debuting a new pair of glasses I bought at Westfield Stratford. The world looks wonky and 3Dish. I can see all the lines on my pale face and I feel even more old.

Went for a run in Victoria Park this morning with my boyfriend. 5C, clear blue sky, sunshine, other people with the same idea. We did 5K but I felt I could have done more.

Now we've given each other haircuts, showered and vacuumed the hair from the kitchen. He's washing the dishes and trying to figure out if we have any food for lunch. I'm in my new office (the spare room) listening to iTunes and writing this.

He might go to his studio this afternoon and I might finish reading "The Secret Garden" and tidying up my office. I may also play a few hours of Xenoblade Chronicles (longterm readers will remember I've been playing this game for YEARS now and there's still no end in sight.)

Tonight, an old colleague from King's College (from back in the days in 2002 when I temped there and spent a lot of time on LJ because there wasn't much for me to do) has invited us over for dinner.

The bed is looking at me and saying "come have a lovely nap on me..."

I was having a drink last night with my brasilian friends Lila and Bia at the Haggerston when I noticed a guy dancing by the front door. I couldn't see his face (the pub was dark) but I got the hunch he was cute. The DJ was blasting soul & funk and the guy was animatedly dancing to it with his friends and having a good time. He danced quite well too.

Later, when he walked past our table after visiting the gents I realised it was Michael Fassbender. Cue five minutes of me trying to explain to Bia and Lila who he was, complete with descriptions of X Men and Shame, and the obligatory iPhone Google search.

A woman in the table next to ours leaned over and asked: "is that the certain Hollywood gent I think he is?"

Yup.

She rubbed her face in surprise and shrunk back into her boyfriend. "He is THE number one... my number one star!"



Just then, Fassbender picked up his jacket and left with his friends. A search through Twitter informed me he'd been all afternoon in London Fields, causing a commotion with his naked torso. He joined some random BBQ with his friends and talked about chicken hearts (he likes them) with a brasilian girl who only clued in who he was once he'd left.

Other celebrities I've spotted since I've gone on annual leave: Boy George (as mentioned before) and Ulrika Jonsson window shopping for specs in Covent Garden (the shop where Johnny Depp usually buys his.)

This gorgeous sunny weekend also involved an unsuccessful trip to Old School Indie, a club night at the venue usually used for Feeling Gloomy (but still run by the same people.) The idea was apparently to do F.G. but with "happier" songs. It was complete rubbish. The DJ played Rolling Stones after The Cure, amongst other barbarities. Bob Dylan is apparently indie too. RUBBISH. And there was nobody there.

While everyone in London was celebrating the athletes parade this afternoon, my boyfriend and I were at the Tate Modern, enjoying the Edvard Munch exhibition.



It's a beautifully put together show on his life work, arranged thematically. I recommend you use the multi-media guide if you visit: it gives you really good commentary on key work as well as an overview of his life and the key historical events of the time.

Sadly, The Scream is not part of the show (maybe they were scared of another attempted theft?) And my only tiny criticism would be that Munch's photos and experiments with film are almost presented as worthy artistic pieces, whereas they are more like studies of themes he was interested in (self-portraits, ghostly bodies, and other things the moving camera made possible for artists at the turn of the 19th century.)

Edit
I forgot to mention another "celebrity" I spotted this weekend... Maeve from Dalston Superstars! She was working behind the counter at the Haggerston and she looked well tired. (Or was there a camera secretly following her around for Season 2?!)

After getting some new bespoke running shoes at Runner's Needs (thank you sparklielizard for the tip!) I've become a regular jogger in Victoria Park. I like to go in the mornings, with my iShuffle plugged in (dangling from some very expensive, neon Adidas running earphones I also got at the shop). I do one full circuit of the park - the equivalent of 5K - then follow it up with two days at the gym doing weight training.

Yesterday morning I noticed a group of short, skinny people doing sprints in the park... Olympic athletes! They were from Rwanda, I learnt later. Apparently they didn't feel like practicing in the Olympic stadium and asked if there were any nearby parks they could use. Victoria Park was the suggestion. I hope they enjoyed it as much as I do.

This London Olympics, which felt very British when it was first announced, has become progressively more "American" as the years have gone by (and especially under the Tories.) Do we really need the biggest McDonalds in Europe built right inside the Olympic park? With a ban on nearby businesses from selling french fries because McDonals has the sole permission to sell it? It's the next best thing to having a giant American flag waving in everyone's face. And by "American" I mean in this context profit-over-commonsense - that neoliberal idiocy that businesses ultimately choose what's best for everyone.

Still, despite all the weird stories surrounding the Olympics (from slum conditions for cleaners living near the park to graffiti artists being arrested), I felt a thrill of excitement at suddenly being so near to Olympic athletes in Victoria Park. My dance company is also involved - we performed as part of the Olympic Torch relay through London and many of our dancers are part of the opening and closing ceremonies.

On McDonalds related news, HBO Documentaries has made available online its recent "Weight of the Nation" series. You can check it out on YouTube. It's in 4 parts and quite compelling viewing, especially if you also recently saw the BBC's "The Man Who Made Us Fat". The series is often mawkish but has some eye-popping figures and graphs. It's made me go off soda drinks for life.

I was leaving the office this evening - carrying two bags of groceries while trying to slide on my headphones - when my iPhone escaped my fingers and ran down the staircase.

"Oh fuck!" I shouted.

"Oops," said one of my co-workers, on his way to the kitchen.

The thing still works so I'm OK for now. I pay insurance to O2 - really hope they cover most of the cost of a new phone, if not the whole thing.

I woke up at 2.30am this morning and couldn't go back to sleep. Have felt knackered and irritated all day.

Over a month ago I asked you to give me a random sentence from a book. I was meant to join them all together into a short story, get someone to illustrate it, then make it available for download as an eStory.

This was my New Year's resolution - a short story every two months, 6 by the end of the year.

Well... I haven't had the time this month because of my new job. The story is nearly finished, but it still needs a lot of work. So... I hope you don't mind if I change things slightly and give myself three months for completion from now on (pushing this deadline to the end of March.)

I'm now trying to muster the will to go for a swim - my first one of 2012. I'm feeling so lazy...