ADRIENNE'S HIV BLOG – Hivine's Weblog

HIVINE is written by HIV positive women but still with a sense of humour

Pillow Talk

under the sheets pink for hiv

Tossing and turning, all night long – brain in total overdrive, hurling pillows in air and flinging on floor like plates at Big Fat Greek wedding. Mind you, had been watching Olympic hurling trials that day and talking to nice Greek man. Not fat one hasten to add – slightly plump, more like comforting pillow would imagine, not that I was?  

How many pillows you choose to sleep with (or Greek men presumably) apparently says a lot about you, as in what size, shape etc. you prefer. For example, someone who sleeps with a hard one (they should be so lucky) probably suffers from neck or lower back problems, (serves them right I say) whereas someone who sleeps with no pillows at all like Joan Collins allegedly chooses to do, is thinking about not getting anymore wrinkles as opposed to winkles.

Thanks to Changing Rooms, sixty minute makeover and the like, the current fashion a la Matalan is to overdress your bed with all kinds of throws and scatter cushions, hence the fact that I spend half the night hurling them in the air and kicking them out of bed – talking pillows here as opposed to Greek men. There is a common practice known as ‘pillow talking’, which according to wikipedia is a conversation that generally takes place at night and involves talk of romantic interest. It is speculated that sexual partners of many world leaders have had extreme influence through this type of discussion. Well, as I currently don’t have any world leaders to cuddle up to and the last time I met Jack Straw he expressed no desire to talk to me in broad daylight let alone at night, I will just have to talk to my pillow alone, which I often do as it happens. However, I am no longer content with the company of my old pillows, there have been too many tears shed and too many bad dreams, thanks to the meds. Do pillows store up memories and dreams I wonder, and if so, perhaps the time had come to buy some new ones.

Great, two for one at Asda. Push them around in my trolley, then take them home and introduce myself, as will be sleeping with them for next twenty years I hope, although that might be bit optimistic considering age and affliction. Try some pillow talk.

“What to do about credit cards and mounting debt?” ask new pillow.

“Ignore for now,” pillow advises me, “And go to sleep.”

Ask it golden counselling question. “Pillow, if you wake up tomorrow and everything is alright, how would you know?”

Pillow not answering so stick between knees to relieve aching hip

Make note – have seen specially designed knee cushion in kleeneze catalogue. Always have pen and paper directly to hand next to pillow incase wake up in night with idea for painting or new blog. Sometimes write very strange things that cannot understand in morning as am usually hallucinating from meds, for example found other day written in big scribble – how do you say Noddy in Spanish – don’t be daft Noddy doesn’t live in Barcelona he lives in Toy Town.

Now what would you make of that?

Write down on pad ask Luis what is Spanish word for pillow. New pillows useless as far as conversation is concerned.

“If you despierta manana,” ask Luis next day “And everything okay, khow you know?”

“Que?”

Luis too tired from painting wardrobe doors to play mind games.

New handles and knobs needed for said wardrobe doors so googled ‘interesting knobs’ – various websites pop up, posh knobs, knobs and knockers not to mention snobs knobs – which don’t bear thinking about really.

Off we go to B&Q on knob hunt – take old knobs in pocket. Most knobs extremely boring as anyone who cohorts with rich will know. Nothing of any distinction in B&Q and very expensive to boot, so go to small hardware shop like something out of Two Ronnie’s sketch.

“Got any Fork handles?”

“Four candles?”

 “Got any interesting knobs mate?”

Back to B&Q before hardware man calls police. Settle for least boring knobs can find, but on way to check out discover have stuffed stray knob in pocket along with old knobs. Luckily didn’t try to walk out door or would have got arrested like Richard Madeley for knob lifting.  Looking for knobs can be a perilous business it seems.

Got home to find downstairs laptop had packed up on us – domestic tragedy on a grand scale as Luis likes to read Spanish periodico of a morning. Tell him he has broken it by tapping too hard on touchpad and swearing at it in Spanish when it wouldn’t do what he wanted it to do – and we English know you have to be kind to computers; they are very sensitive and moody entities which have to be treated with the utmost respect. Downstairs lap top obviously taken offence because cursor was acting peculiar and had to tilt lap top backwards and forwards to make arrow move – t’was too frustrating by far for a fiery Spanish hombre who kept beating fists on table thus sending arrow into complete hiding.

What to do, we put defeated cabezas together and ponder – cannot afford new lap top and Luis cannot survive without reading Spanish news in morning – have to keep him khappy or won’t screw new knobs on.

“Why not use mouse?” advises sister on telephone. “Mouse much better than touchpad any day.”

Haven’t got mouse but think very good idea – sister very clever, much cleverer than moi.

Take Luis back out on exciting magical mystery trip to PC World (normally only gets to go on outings to B&Q and Asda) it’s a bit like Sea World I tell him, but no pescado, instead lots of mice for computer or ratons as they are called in Spanish.

“If mouse called raton,” I ask him, “What rat called?”

“Ratta” Luis growls rolling r’s.

“As in rattafarian,” I make joke, “with dreadlocks?”

Luis not in mood to laugh till lap top fixed.

Don’t worry be khappy sing to him.

Choose shiny black raton to take home with us and wonder of wonders it works without cable. Tis wireless operated mouse opposed to clockwork mouse. Luis now not worried, very, very khappy, keeps stroking raton and protecting from me with hands, wonder doesn’t call it Basil like Manuel in Fawlty Towers.

Basil   Basil

Oh no, get up next day and ratton not working – Basil ees dead Mr Fawlty.

When Luis not looking, roll Basil over on back to see if balls clogged. Discover wireless controlled ratons don’t have balls – don’t know much about mice or ratons, more used to cursors, but thankfully since menopause haven’t one of those for a while

“No touch khim,” Luis jumps out of shadows

“Was only looking to see if had any cojones,” tell him sulkily.

Cojones Spanish word for balls – Spanish word for cushion cojins. Very similar sounding. Already fallen into language trap by telling Luis had been sleeping with two many cojones and was looking for some new ones.

Anyway, you will either be sorry or extremely pleased to hear that the Spanish vocabulary lessons are coming to a temporary halt as Luis going back not to Barcelona but to Ibiza. Will have to make sure he doesn’t try to smuggle Basil with him in suitcase – there is heavy duty fine and even imprisonment I believe for attempting to smuggle ratons either in or out of a country.

Whatever will I find to write about? No more knob lifters, rat smugglers or fork handles. Four candles – although hopefully not a funeral!

2 Comments»

  Computers & Tech wrote @

Hi there,
Great post, I just found it and I’m already a fan.

  Rachael Garkow wrote @

I’ve just started off a blog, the knowledge you give on this site has aided me extremely. Thank you for all your time & work.


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