The 1986 Jabot Drinking Game, with added Stick People

This week. In which I have a stressy brainfuzz and probably won't be in the Commonwealth Games.

This post is about stuff that it is difficult to photograph, like drinking games that I've just thought up. So there are some hastily-drawn stick people. You're welcome.

Sometimes I get myself all wonky and out of sorts. It happens when my own estimation of what I can do outstrips what I can actually do. I am a single person (by which I mean that there is only one of me, I am not in fact a whole travelling band of circus performers, even if that would be fun) and therefore only have the capacity of one. Turns out I can do a  reasonable number of things with a reasonable degree of success, but not all at once. I can get by at most things, but there's no one thing that I'm ever likely to become Olympic Champion of. This hasn't stopped me landing myself in a place where I have responsibility for a number of small, slow-burn things. Like committee positions, dance classes to teach and band gigs to organise. Unfortunately I am somewhat antisocial, yet I seem to keep matching myself up with things that require me interacting with people. I know that I "do" social interaction. I can even, on a good day, turn on Funny Me and play host of the party. But man, does it take it out of me. 

Sometimes these things require me to do grown-up things which ought to be simple. Sometimes, God forbid, I have to pick up the phone and speak to people. This strikes fear in to the heart of me, which is entirely unfounded, but happens anyway. This week I let my phone go to voicemail, then went for a walk, came home and listened to the voicemail, and replied by email telling a porky-pie about my phone being broken. And that to someone I like, and I like to talk to and have stuff in common with. Daft. And terrible economy of effort. 

So this week stuff got on top of me a little, and I had a bit of a fuzz for a few days. Then I went for a bit of a walk, answered some emails, and had a quiet weekend that helped me get a handle on myself again. S'all good now, folks, but I cannot help but analyse. I reckon I can pin this down to two things.

The week. Getting on top of me.

#1 Work

I work in a job where mostly I get to hide in a back office and interact with sensible adult colleagues, but occasionally I have distant contact with people. This week we had get people to tell us stuff. On a computer! People don't always go for that, so it was a bit stressy. Well, long story short, I fell victim to one of the classic blunders - The most famous of which is "never get involved in a land war in Asia" - but only slightly less well-known is this: "Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line read the comments"!

Never read the comments. First rule of the internets.

#2 Dancing

Can a hobby cause stress. Definitive answer as decided by me - Yes! It is possible for the fact that my hobby exists in the world to chip away at the bits of it that make it enjoyable. Time, energy, logistics. I am such an old fart.

This year the Commonwealth Games are going to be in Glasgow. That's pretty cool, huh? A big shiny thing, in Scotland. There might be some cool Scottish Stuff. 

In 1986 the Commonwealth Games were in Edinburgh. There was some shiny Scottish Stuff. This is a wee chunk of the Opening Ceremony, featuring both of my parents. 6:35, if you care to spot them. No pressure there then.

I'm working on a drinking game to go with this video. Do a shot for every perm, or outrageous Jabot. Bottoms up if they're on the same person. Give up and reach for the bottle if that person is related to you. (I'd have embedded the vid but the Youtube function on this blog thing is playing silly buggers)

I hope to market this and get rich.

This year I was brave enough to apply for a spot as a performer for the Ceremonies, and even brave enough to go to Glasgow for the audition. There was funky modern dancing to be done. My niche is doing the right stuff in exactly the right way, in the right order. Preferably with 7 mates and an accordion nearby.

This is me being Brave. The sword and shield are imaginary, but they still help somehow.

The upshot is that I doubt I've made it, which may turn out to be for the best. But I know people who have, which is like fame by association, right?

Go for it, guys!

(like, actually, really. I mean it)
I shall watch it online, with a quantity of alcohol, and cheer you all on. And I'll spend the time and the leave and the money on Market Research.

Right now I am off to teach a Beginners' dance class which will involve Palindromes. Because I can. Oh, and today I learned what a split-infinitive is. With that in mind it is time for me to boldly go away.