In Which I Discuss Some Homey Things

So I have a bad disease called haemorrhoids. I know, TMA much? But anyways, it coincides with this month’s period, the first one after the miscarriage, so it’s pretty tough going. I only told you all this because you will get a sense of how disgustingly crappy I feel today. I am in so much pain, but have ploughed on through a 3000 word assignment on eighteenth century European literary attitudes towards colonialism and slavery presented by our very own Aphra Behn, about whom I am beginning to have very mixed feelings.

I am inclined to dislike her. She appears to be very pretentious and what really irks me is the fact that in order to make a black slave ‘appealing’ to her audience, she has to European-ise him by giving him a Roman nose and making sure he was well equipped with knowledge of European culture, as though it were so superior that not to know of it would render one completely barbarous.

Which in fact it did.

So don’t get your hopes up.

I was quite frankly appalled.

I suppose it isn’t really her fault, since she is catering to her readers, so really, I should have said the only way the English society at the time would sympathise with a black SLAVE is if he looked a bit like an Englishman and possibly shared his values.

I KNOW.

Also, did you know that the Liverpool port grew exponentially because of the slave trade? Appalling. I had no idea. All this time I was yelling at America but really it was us Brits just as much as them. I am so un-iformed.

ANYWAY. Back to today. So I ploughed on through thinking, aaaah, well I don’t gotta cook today since the old husband is going to a meal with some work friends. Only he then called to tell me he wasn’t.

“Aw man. Well I didn’t cook anything,” said I, chewing my ratty, unwashed hair as I spoke into my mobile.

“It’s ok. I’ll cook something.” he said.

I snorted into the phone.

Psh, yeah right. D cannot cook a meal to save his life. His idea of a tuna sandwich is dunking a tin of tuna onto some bread. Which quite frankly is disgusting, believe me, I’ve had it.

Anyway. We live and work in the middle of nowhere so the idea of a takeaway is ridiculous since the nearest place is a thirty minute drive away.

Ain’t nobody got time for that!

So I cooked spinach and rice and then sat back with a cup of tea and decided to have a hair wash and straighten my hair and maybe put some makeup on and frankly, after a painkiller, I feel much much better.

Nothing like a little spruce up and a dash of mascara to make you feel better about life in general.

A bitta maquillage, so to speak.

Also D is eating the rice and spinach and he said he was very grateful and didn’t expect me to do it and why did I, and then he admitted that he probably wouldn’t have cooked anything and just had some cereal instead.

Which isn’t the worst thing to do but well, it’s nice to come home after a long day to have a hot meal ready. God knows I love that feeling. Crashing in late after uni to find my mum had a hot plate of something homey on the table for me.

Anyway. Happy Thursday folks.

 

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