Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness

Sometimes the most chaotic person you know and like, who you haven't seen in a dozen years because he's Canadian and lives like six thousand miles away, is having his last day in town before he's off on the rest of his adventures (he's done Iceland and Glasgow and has Cardiff and Somerset left to go) and the beer makes you talk about poetry and astrophysics and the inspiration to be creative and then someone wants to bum a cigarette from him and then she and her partner sit down and we chat for ages before we find out he's called Patrick and she's called Izzy and the drinks flow and the cigarettes are shared and I got home so late I don't know if I'll make it to transgym in the morning which is usually a highlight of my week...

But it's fine, there's transgym (almost) every week and when else could I have seen Bill? Not until next year when he says he's coming back. And when could we have bumped in to Izzy from Cardiff and Patrick from Dudley? Neve!

So it was totally worth it.

I thought I'd just get dropped off at the train station after our session (and the all-important debrief in Costa) was finished. But I should've known: my lovely colleague has sight loss herself and assured me that they -- she, her husband/PA, her guide dog -- would wait until I was safely on a train.

But first, I needed to pee, so I got directed to the gents' and I was only gone for a few minutes but when I walked back up the platform I saw those two (three, counting Flick the dog) standing with two other ladies chatting away. As I got closer I'd have guessed they were people R knew from work; one of them mentioned another charity that's known to us. I was happy to chill while they did that "Oh you know Nick?" kind of thing. But it turns out they didn't know each other; these women had just been at some sight-loss related event but one of them just spoke up when she saw the guide dog because she always does and is clearly the kind of person who'll talk to anyone. They had made friends at a local society for blind people, and had just come from, of all things, a funeral for someone they knew from that group. The chattier one told us about her eye condition, Homonymous Hemianopia -- and R and I said "that's the one we couldn't say before!" when we were going through a list of them at the session earlier; we both know about hemianopia but neither of us could get the word out at the time.

Then the other person said "And I have optic nerve hypoplasia."

And then I said "Shut up!" because I was so surprised. That's what I have! And even among other blind people, no one's heard of it. It's an odd, rare thing. I literally don't think I've ever met anyone else who's got it.

They and I ended up getting on the same train for the first 15 minutes or so, by which point the chatty one had made friends with the conductor and exchanged numbers with me.

My hypoplasia pal lives in Runcorn and says she comes to Manchester regularly; I said she should let me know if she wants to hang out.

Such a goofy coincidence, but an uplifting end to a day that could've gone better. (It was fine, it just...well, I'm too tired to explain it now. But it was fine. Just, could've been better.)

Almost nothing has happened today, but that gives me a chance to talk about everything else that happened yesterday, hopefully before I forget.

I woke up and actually managed to get the train and tram to lift club. The last couple times I'd tried to make it there on public transport hadn't worked out, so it was nice to be able to make it. Especially because it's the last one of the year! At the end I gave George a hug that he said was so good it changed his life. "I'm a very enthusiastic hugger!" he said. "People aren't usually able to meet my energy!" But I guess I did. I love George, even if he does put me on a pedestal a little bit sometimes.

I got a lift home, with had the usual good chats with my pal D. I went right to Teddy's house to walk him, because our usual evening-walk had been swapped to morning walk this once. So this was not only the day that his human, Graham, was having his knee operation, he was having it as we were walking! I let Teddy lead me around the neighborhood for as long as I could but I had a big list of things to do so had to drag him home eventually. I had a good catch-up with Sylvia -- her sister was there, who is so effusive about how much of a help my household has been, aww -- but did have to scurry home so I could have a shower and be on to the next thing.

The next thing was D and I going most of the way to Liverpool to help a relative of V's who's cleaning out his mum's house. We've done this a few times and it's nearly done now. He'd saved me some apple-shaped dishes that I'd coveted the first time but left there; when I was looking through photos of the year for something parent-suitable I saw the photo of these dishes that I'd sent V in order to squee about them, and I was really sad that I hadn't taken them after all. I didn't expect them to have been put to one side for me but since they were I figured it was a sign and eagerly brought them home. They were greeted when I got here by angelofthenorth who recognized them immediately and has a couple herself. It was nice to feel so validated in that decision!

D and I spent a long time at the recycling center, separating stuff out into the appropriate bins. I was stymied by what to do with all the food: all the half-finished bags and jars that a well-stocked home cook had -- the jars all labeled neatly and everything. It was sad to have to get rid of it all. In the process I cut my finger on a bit of broken glass and had to ask the staff for first aid: one employee shouted to another in the scousest accent I've ever heard: "Alex! This man needs to wash his hands! He's got an injury!" They also gave me a little wound-cleaning wet wipe and a band-aid so it was okay.

I got home and needed a nap because we were going out again that evening. To see Karkasaurus and Petrol Bastard, which was such fun even if there was so much dry ice I could taste it and it felt like I was in beginning-of-horror-movie levels of fog. And like I said D got his Loop earplug stuck in his ear, but V got it out today so that's worked out okay. We ran into a number of people that we know there, from different things -- sign of a good gig -- and might have been led astray for a completely extraneous pint afterwards, by this person and her girlfriend and their Welsh friend. Said person continues to be delightfully tactile around me in a way that usually doesn't get to happen absent some romantic or sexual interest, and it's utterly delightful.

And then we left them to their reckless ways and got an uber home just before midnight which is why I didn't have time to talk about all of this in yesterday's blog post!

I did well to be feeling as okay as I am today; I think the fact that I continue to get insomnia when I'm drunk, which at least means I can drink water while I'm awake, keeps the hangovers from being as bad as I've been led to expect in my forties!

What a busy day!

I got up for trans gym this morning, which should be normal for a Saturday but I missed it last week thanks to trainfail, and I didn't make it to the gym at all this week and my mental health suffered accordingly. So it was really nice to be back even if everything felt difficult!

Sadly D wasn't feeling well enough to do gym, but he was feeling well enough to give me a lift to and from and do some shopping for treats from the grocery store in between, which was welcome. It also meant we got a tinfoil-wrapped packet of our friend I's homemade pancakes, still warm when he handed them to D, which was really lovely.

Then this afternoon we had a doggy date! Thanks to Borrow My Doggy, a neighbor found us, said she thought she recognized us from the photos I put on the website, and indeed she was right. She and her husband are retired and dealing with various health issues that mean they need help walking their sweet adorable poodle/Irish setter cross, Teddy. He immediately loved V and I (again D was not feeling up to joining us, he needed a nap), demanded pets from us both and fell asleep pressed up against V while we talked with his humans. We all got along and it seems like we can help each other which is lovely.

Soon after V and I got home, angelofthenorth's friend came over, who soon said "I feel like I've found my people, even though I've never met you two before!" V was delighted at this of course, and I know it's something they and D have always aspired to.

We had a great conversation until D and I had to leave to go see Beowulf at Park in the Past. It was really fun to get to enjoy Beowulf in something approaching its original setting: In a dirt floored, wood-beamed, wool-thatched hut, listening to a bard recite it from memory and in between "acts" some talented musicians play a variety of folk music. We drank mead and D got to eat a wild boar burger. We snuggled up to stay warm and to enjoy each other's company. It was a great evening. Great day.

D and I were walking home from an errand when we ran into Pickle, a little French bulldog, and her human (whose name of course I have no idea of). We were near one of our old dog-walking destinations, and she recognized D and I right away -- she called out "where's your dog?"

We stopped and chatted, shared the sad news about Gary, and she was really sweet about how you alway miss them and them and the company they provide. She said her mum's birthday is soon -- or has just been, recently? -- "and even though she's been gone six years I still miss her."

It was really nice to run in to her, and I'm impressed that she recognized us without the dog; I don't know that I'd recognize her without Pickle!

Yesterday was a delight. I got tipsy around some friends of friends, one of those being the person who always remembers to introduce herself and where she saw me last. She tells me when things are happening to the side of me where I can't see.

It turns out she works in a special education needs school, specifically in a class for kids with multiple sensory impairments, so she's like "oh this is nothing."

Access intimacy plus alcohol might be a hell of a drug, but then I don't feel I overstepped when she's the one who told me I must have a really good binder because she did not believe I have the cup size I told her I do, heh. The kind of conversation that'd be wildly unlikely and inappropriate in most contexts can be so fun when it finds the right one.

We had a lovely day with my cousin-type found-family people. D suggested Buxton or Bakewell and T said they were closer to Buxton so we went there, which was fun. First time I'd been since before covid I think. She said she remembered the name of the town because of Byron Buxton, and her husband spotted me by my Twins cap which is just what I wear when it's sunny out. I forget that people might actually recognize it, because that never normally happens to me!

Good weather, we walked around, found a great place for lunch, the teaboo could order Earl Grey.

They called me my Minnesota name and she/her'd me with no hesitation, no mention of my facial hair, didn't ask me if I had a cold to explain my voice... Whatever makes my parents only see what they look for seems to extend to nice people my own age with decent politics.

I went to the park with haggis and her kid this morning.

There was one point where I was pushing said kid on the swings (a lot of the morning was haggis, D and I doing as we were directed and I'd been specifically told to push her at this point) next to a nice young man doing the same with his own toddler.

He said hello by asking me "How old is she?" to which I of course panicked because I'm not sure these days. "...Four??" I said eventually. haggis came over and saved me from more of this peril by making normal parent conversation herself.

Then the guy said "Is she the only one you guys have?" and my thoughts hadn't gotten any further than what, here with us today?

haggis said the kid is hers, and her husband's but I'm not her husband, and meanwhile I was like oh shit he thinks I'm the husband! or the new dad! Oh no! So I joked about being a gay uncle.

I don't think I've ever been mistaken for a husband before! I probably would've thought it was fun, if I wasn't too confused at the time to know that it was happening...

At the gym, I spotted someone holding what looked like a guide cane. (There are different kinds of white canes.)

He was just standing around, looking kinda vague. So when I finished the exercise I was doing, I went over and asked him if he would like any help.

We didn't share much language, but I got the impression he didn't want to be bothered, so I cheerfully went on my way.

But when I was doing my next exercise, he came over and said something about "check weights."

I hopped up with a confidence I soon realized was unearned. I was at that time actually using the only machine I can read the weight numbers on...because they've been repainted by hand. I rarely use the free weights because I can't find the dumbbells I need most of the time -- everything is labeled black-on-black! Why?!

Anyway, he didn't actually want help setting the weights for a machine or finding free weights. He wanted me to read his weight, from a scale that I hadn't even known was in the gym.

The numbers on the scale were so tiny.

Oops: I quickly realized I'm the worst person in the gym for him to ask!

Luckily I had my phone on me, so I could do what I usually do when I'm out and about and something is too small for me to read: took a photo on my phone and zoomed in.

I read out the number to him, and he seemed dismayed. He actually handed me his cane and asked me to read his weight again.

Guide canes are only a meter long, they're hollow, and they're very light. White canes working properly depends on them being very light! Sorry my friend: the number was the same the second time.

Anyway, moral of the story is: sighted people should offer help to a blind person, because if you don't another blind person is gonna recognize their cane and be excited about it and offer help that it turns out I'm shit at actually providing.

Gym was good yesterday morning, but my mental health crashed pretty drastically soon after.

It wasn't much better today, until D and I dragged ourselves out on our bikes for beer in the sunshine and meeting cool people (in ways both arranged and fortuitous).

Had to talk to my parents immediately when we got home at dinnertime, and I've been headachy and tired ever since.

Can't believe I have to go back to work tomorrow after only two days off! But it makes me all the more grateful to have gotten a little rest from the bad brain this afternoon.