Daughter is here.
I drove up to East Midlands Airport to collect her.
She looked slightly confused at some of the social differences between the UK and the her home district in Spain.
And then we went to Reading Festival.
I could write *loads* about Reading Festival, and not all of it good or complimentary.
We have also spent some time sitting around laughing, while I played guitar and made up an instant song about doing the ironing.
And after our return from Reading we went in to Witney for breakfast.
And bought books.
And travelled in to Oxford.
And bought CDs (for her and me), and jeans and cake (for her and Soph, in that order).
My CDs are:
- ‘Tales from Topographic Oceans’ (Yes)
- ‘Neon Bible’ (Arcade Fire), and
- ‘Build a Rocket Boys!’ (Elbow)
Daughter’s CD is:
- ‘Pretty:Odd’ (Panic At The Disco)
And while some of this father/daughter-related activity happened, Soph did the (some may say) wise thing, left the two of us to our own devices and went up to visit her parentals.
It is an odd combination of lovely and peculiar, to have our visitor from Spain.
Lovely because I get to see her every day, obv.
Tiptoeing in to her bedroom with all the grace and enthusiasm of a stampeding herd of Rhino, to attempt to drag her back to consciousness, is a joy.
A joy that no end of Skype conversations can come close to colouring.
It isn’t just the waking up.
Having her around is excellent.
And also very amusing, she is a funny girl.
Gets it from her father, obv.
But it is peculiar having her here because we have had to moderate our (normally free, easy, open and unguarded) behaviour around the house.
I can no longer remove my trousers as soon as I get in and sit around in my boxers.
Similarly, my Early Morning Writing stints now have to take place with me fully-clothed.
And as for impromptu sex on the couch during University Challenge*, well that’s unacceptable.
She doesn’t eat much, Daughter.
But she does spend a great deal of time on the internet.
More, even (if you can stretch your credibility that far), than Soph and I do (not counting work-related activity).
Like most teenagers, she’s very guarded about what she’s doing on the internet, and who she’s doing it with.
Her time seems to be divided between a Tumblr site, AIM chat and a forum attached to a writer’s website.
I’ve (surreptitiously) checked out the former and the latter, but the chat thing could be a wildcard.
But I’m not going to police it, or get on her back about it.
We’ve had a mini-discussion about it.
My position is that I’m encouraging her to be a responsible young adult, and I will trust her judgement on her activity.
I’ll also trust her to tell me if she gets in to any kind of a dubious situation.
And I’ll keep an eye on traffic across the router.
In other news, The Great Television Switch-Off looms ever nearer.
Yes, we will soon lose our analogue television signal and, as a result, will be forced to endure the utter pile of steaming garbage that is known as Digital UK.
Let me be clear.
We have been (and I hesitate to use this word in any kind of context) ‘consumers’ of the completely unacceptable bowel-movement of utter shit that is being presented, in a ‘take it or fuck off’, kind of way by our wonderful government and their civil servants.
Pick a digital TV station and we have it!
Except we don’t have it because it’s completely unwatchable.
Uber-pixelated images married to audio that failed every kind of quality test known to mankind; this is what we, here in our glorious Prime Minister’s constituency, are forced to endure every fucking day.
To the point where we just switch off.
I’ve called people on the phone.
I’ve put comments on UKFREETV, where some unbelievably smug cunt of an utter arsehole (yes, they do exist, really) totally fails to comprehend the sheer magnitude of the fucking lack of service that we poor plebs have to endure; poor plebs, I might add, who are, directly or indirectly, funding this utter dogs breakfast of a cock-up.
It’s as if someone said ‘You know how much of a cock-up the 2012 Olympics is going to be for everyone who lives and works in London? Well let’s take that level of a mess and throw it out on to the digital TV network!’
Treble fucking G&Ts all round.
I seem to have had an accidental rant.
Sorry about that, it was unplanned.
I’m actually feeling very laid back at the moment.
Don’t know why, but I am.
It must be the company of Angels that I’m keeping.
* This is a joke, obv. What sick kind of a person would not want to watch University Challenge first, and then have sex on the couch?