Grumpy Whiskers And Ink

And so, after I'd left work to rest, what did I do? Or, rather, where did I go? Well, a bit earlier, a couple of new cafes had opened up; Boston Tea Party, which loads of people had been going on about, and Grumpy Whiskers, which a couple of friends had recommended to me.

I'd gone to the first the day before, so it was the turn of Grumpy Whiskers, which to be honest was the one I was really looking forward to. Put it this way: I haven't been back to the other one since, and have no real desire to. Grumpy Whiskers is different in two ways: it is a licensed bar as well as a cafe, and they put a lot of events on.

So I go along there after work and have a drink - a hot chocolate, that is - and just chat to the staff a bit. And discover they are having a poetry slam that evening. I haven't been to anything like that for ages, so I thought about going along. If you don't know what they are, think of rap battles (like in 8 Mile) with less aggression-though not necessarily less swearing.

I get home and contact a couple of friends to see if they're up for it. It seems one of them is, so I wander along with the aim of meeting him there; but things didn't quite work out like that. I get there and it's already started, someone's up on stage. It doesn't take long to figure out the (very loose) format-basically someone gets up and performs a poem, and then someone else does. No order, no MC, but a lot of friendly cheering. Apparently, it's going to be better organised next time, but from the point of view of entertainment, it worked well enough, I thought. I enjoyed it, anyway.

And a couple of other things happened during the evening. The friend who I was going to meet couldn't make it in the end, but he texted another mutual friend, who just happened to be in town then, so he came along. I hadn't seen him for months, so it was good to have a bit of a catch up. And the other thing was that, while we were chatting and listening, I started to write something. I just thought of someone challenging me to get up, and my response; and started rhyming with it. It started off quite well; but then I got stuck. I still haven't got much further.

I go in the next day, the first of my days off (I had to go into town anyway), as I'd been chatting to one of the staff about the tattoo parlour upstairs. I'd asked about getting a celtic cross design, and he'd told me the guy to talk to would be in the next day-so before I could come up with a reason to put it off, I went in and chatted to him. We looked at a few designs, and the upshot of that was that I booked and paid for it to be done the following Tuesday (i.e. the one just gone). Which I could hardly believe I'd just done.

So, the week came and went quicker than weeks sometimes do, and I found myself back in there. He'd prepared a stencil of the design to work from, so he put that on, and then went to work filling in the ink. I was slightly concerned about what the needle would feel like, but not really worried; and there wasn't anything to worry about. It felt slightly ticklish more than anything; which was a little irritating when my arm twitched a couple of times, but it didn't bother him. To be honest, at one point I almost dozed off (well, it was quite warm). So, to anyone wanting to get one done but feeling afraid, I would say there is definitely nothing to worry about.

And then it was all done, and I had my arm wrapped in clingfilm, with instructions to leave it on for a couple of hours and then wash it, and put cream on it a few times a day-fixed with sellotape, so taking that off was actually the most painful part. And to come back in a couple of weeks for him to check it, and reink it if it needed it. The human body is the most awkward canvas in the world, apparently. And that was it. I left there with a fantastic design of a celtic cross, which I will probably put up photos of when the healing process is done; or at some point, anyway.

And about the only other thing I would like to say about the place is that they do fantastic waffles - definitely worth a visit for. And I will be visiting again. And again.

What A Week!

Well, I finally get around to another post after an unusual week; some of it fun, some definitely not. And, in that, all sorts of reasons why I couldn't post any earlier.

Starting on Saturday with a panto, which was great. A friend of mine, who has recently started a curacy in a rural parish near Worcester invited us to see him in a panto he was in. Apparently, his parish started Martley Amateur Dramatics as part of their outreach several years ago, and have put on one ever since the 100th anniversary of one of the churches. Some of the group belong to one or other of the churches (mainly the men, which is unusual), and some don't-it's a very good way to both build community and get the church involved in the community. And as he's now started in a rural parish where getting into the community is vital, he was basically told he had to be in it. His vicar takes one of the main parts, as he does conjuring and juggling-apparently the main problem they have is getting him to stick close to the script.
So, anyway, I was picked up by a friend after work, and off we went to Martley for their production of 'Cinder Ella' (the German version) 'a small but subtle difference'. And a most enjoyable time was had by all, especially the cast. It was clear that most of the audience was connected in some way to some or all of the cast, and they seemed relaxed and enjoyed themselves. One of the best amdram shows I've ever seen. And afterwards, we were invited to the after-show party; which was basically everyone in the hall heading down the road to the local pub, The Admiral Rodney, and generally having a good time. The food was good, the company better, and the overall atmosphere was great-I found a perry I hadn't had before, so that's a good excuse to go back there.

And then on the Sunday, there was the latest Seek His Face event, at Elim Church, which was interesting. I've been having a difficult time praying recently, because I've been thinking that I've been praying about the same things for ages, and my life doesn't seem to be much different than it was X number of years ago. Or any different. I suppose I may be different, but it's difficult to tell how much and in what ways. And, more importantly, what difference this may make. I don't see what I can do to make much of a change in my circumstances, so it's really up to God; but I don't see Him doing anything (much). Anyway, the guy leading worship had a prophecy for me-that God was tattooing something on me, that I would have a ministry to people who no-one else would want to/be able to. This was very interesting, as one of the things I've been thinking about recently is getting a tattoo, though I haven't decided yet-and also, I went to a prayer meeting recently where the phrase 'soul tattoo' was used. So it seems that it wasn't just something general that could have been said to anyone, the way he said it was as important as what he said. Something to consider, anyway.

After that, it was back to work Monday, as usual, and then on Tuesday (my day off), my mum came round to help me clean the flat. As my flatmate is leaving soon, it will have to be looking good for a new tenant, or the landlord will complain. So, that was both intense and exhausting. And then, after that, what really held up the posting of this post, I got ill. I don't know why, as I don't really get ill that often, but I felt bad enough to be off work. As the last time that happened was about 6 years ago - I can't actually remember - you can see that I wasn't really in any fit state to do this post. Or, indeed, to do anything much. And, just as clearly, you can now see that I'm better. ;). Which is good. And now I have posted. Nice.