Dull Drinkers

Quite often, when I tell people that I don't drink alcohol, they give me a strange look that communicates both confusion and disrespect. Were they able to see the results of mixing me with alcohol, or able to appreciate the strength it takes me to avoid drink, they'd soon be licking my boots and begging for forgiveness.

It occurred to me that one of the reasons why some drinkers tend to view people who don't drink as dull, is that they restrict their own "interesting" behaviours to when they are drunk and so when sober, they're actually as dull as the image they have of non-drinkers.

For example I know people who won't dance or chat up a girl unless they're drunk. Yes, of course there's something to be said for Dutch courage but when you don't drink, you just have to get on and do stuff because you know you're never going to have that artificial confidence boost that many people rely on.

Many drinkers use being sober as an excuse to be, quite frankly, boring and then project their own dreariness onto people who can have a good time without alcohol.

Dire Frills

Horrified, I thought to myself "I'm getting too old to appreciate modern music" but was then delighted to realise that what I'd mistaken for a poor dance track at Pop Tarts club night, was actually the fire alarm.

This was followed by a huge majority of people exhibiting a complete reluctance to leave the dance floor and a handful of men whimpering about the effect the drizzle might have on their hair. I tried to point out that the chargrilled look wasn't fashionable either but this had no effect whatsoever.

Had there been a real fire, I'm convinced that the survival rate would have been as low at 5% due to drunk people's inability to associate the sound of a fire alarm with an urgent need to leave the building.

Avoiding self-harm with Play Dough

Whilst looking for a website to adequately illustrate the concept of playdough to a Brazilian, I found that match 5 on a google search for "playdough homepage," was a website on self-harm containing a variety of tips to avoid injuring yourself during a self-harm ritual. One of the ones that amused me most read:

Playdough

This is good for expressing anger as well as an alternative to Self Harm. For this you need to make some playdough (red if you are using it for Self Harm). Put the playdough where you want to cut and use a *blunt* knife to cut through it. If you want to use it for anger, the process of making it (kneading the dough etc) will help to express the anger and also by squeezing and punching it, you will be able to express the anger you are feeling.

I shouldn't mock. If it stops just one person mutilating themselves then it's a worthwhile website.

However, for me a large motivation for cutting was self-directed anger and I'm not sure that allowing myself to play with rainbow coloured clay would have felt like adequate punishment.

I love that I can talk about self harm in the past tense, with confidence.

Clubbing and Hypomania

In the last fortnight I've had three invitations to go clubbing in London and had to begrudgingly turn down every one of them. Whilst I love the clubbing environment, it's a high risk activity for me because the stimulating lights and music, overcrowding, heat and temptation to drink alcohol can all exacerbate my bipolar disorder sending me either into a panic attack, an angry outburst or a euphoric high which keeps me awake for 36 hours and consequently buggers up the rest of the week.

I can only really dare to go clubbing when I'm either in the company of friends who are extremely experienced at dealing with my mood swings or when I'm close to home and can immediately get myself somewhere safe where I can take my sedative medication.

It's frustrating having these restrictions on what I can and cannot do but not as distressing as the consequence of breaking the rules.

Demanding more from lesbian cinema

Tonight I had the misfortune to watch the 1997 film "All Over Me" which provides prime evidence that a lesbian theme cannot save an atrocious movie. The pacing was wrong, the dialog was weak, the plot demanded tension that wasn't created.

Do I regret watching it? No, it was part of my lesbo-cultural education and I did get to see Leisha Hailey with very cute pink hair.

It would seem that ten years ago, "All Over Me" was considered a decent lesbian movie. I'm so glad that people are finally starting to demand more from gay cinema.