Tuesday, April 20, 2004

Toothache Medication to Deep State Meditation

Well, this is it. The day has arrived, and I must go. It's been a pleasure knowing you all, and i'm sure you all understand that once I return from these 10 days of soul searching i will most likely be on a different spiritual plane from the rest of you, and therefore unable to associate with you any longer. Well, maybe not. But hey, who knows? Will it change me? Will my blogs become all puritanical and preachy? Will I start behaving like a born again christian? Maybe an evil spirit will use use my spiritually vulnerable state during deep meditation to take control of my body and use it for unspeakable evil acts..... maybe I will have an epiphany and realise that I am in fact the son of god and you will all have to worship me and call me "my lord".... or maybe, just maybe, I'll spend the whole 10 days silently cursing the nazi hippies who have imprisoned me and dreaming of Mars Ice Creams and re-runs of "Black Books" on Channel 4. It's anybody's guess. All I know is that it's too late to back out now. For better or for worse I am going to sit in silence for 10 days and see what happens. Hopefully it'll make for some good writing material!

By the way, I now have a car!!! My first ever car! And I've bought insurance as well! Now all I need is for the car to work and I'm away!!! Don't worry, it will, I'm going to meditate on it.

I went to the dentist yesterday. Fucking bastard. If you weren't aware, the situation with NHS Dentists in england is a complete nightmare. Basically there aren't any. So the only option for people who can't afford to go private like myself is to wait until they are in sever pain, and then go down to the emergency drop-in centre for some emergency treatment. So, yesterday, having put up with my toothache for long enough for it to reach an acceptable level of pain, I set of for the clinic. As luck would have it they had an appointment only an hour after I arrived, so i sat down to wait. Just over an hour later, a little rat-like man in a white overcoat came and poked his head around the door. "Bily Salisbury", he announced. I got up and folowed him into the surgery and sat myself down. Now I had been practising my explanation of my problems all morning, so it was pretty damn clear, but as I tried to give it, he kept interrupting me, not really listening at all. When I had finished, he had a look in my mouth and exclaimed,

"Well, I don't know what your talking about, you've got a perfect set of teeth!!".

I tried once again to explain to him that I believed there was decay under one of my fillings, as it was a very deep filling and had had decay deep in the tooth when it was put in. He ignored me completely and started talking about the other side of my jaw as I had mentioned that it also hurt me occasionally. He pointed to it and said

"How much and how often and what kind of pain?" in a brisk irritable manner.

I pointed to the right side of my jaw and began to say, "well on this side..." planning to explain that the left side was basically just a lesser version of what I felt on the right.

"That's not what i asked you is it?!!!", he interrupted aggressively.

"Yeah, but I need to...",

"JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION!!!" he barked at me like a psychotic school master from hell.

I was stunned. Medical proffesionals don't talk to there patients do they??? I suddenly had a strong urge to say something offensive and caught myself back just in time, after all, this man was in a position to inflict a lot of pain with little or no consequences to himself... best to play it safe.

"If you'll just let me finish I think you'll understand what I'm trying to say...", I managed, and finally got him to listen to my explanation.

But still he wasn't really listening. Each time i described the part that was hurting, he simply heard what he wanted to hear, and kept attributing it to a wisdom tooth. In the end he got irritable again.

"Well what do you want me to do?! Do you want me to drill out that perfectly good filling just to look underneath?? Is that what you want me to do??".

"Well I don't know, you're the dentist!! I'm just telling you what i think the problem is!"

"Well you have to tell me, what do you want me to do!"

Surely this wasn't normal? Usually the dentist suggests the best course of action and asks you if you want to go along with it, doesn't he?

I was starting to get the impression that this dentist had actually realised I was probably right but just didn't wan't admit that maybe he was wrong, so instead of suggesting the action, was trying to bully me into requesting it. What a cocksucker!

"Ok, please take that filling out and look underneath"...

As soon as i had taken resposibility for the procedure, his mood changed completely!! He started using phrases like "Oookayy, well done, that's the worst of it over.." and even smiling occasionally! Then, after drilling for about 5 minutes, he stoped smiling and his face went blank. Rather than the usual running commentary that dentists give, he was completely silent. Eventually, after scraping around inside my tooth, he finally came clean.

"Ahem. Ahhh, right. Now, there was some decay in there, and I've done my best to get it out. I think I've got it all out. Now it's a much more complicated filling than I thought, so I'm just gonna put a sedative dressing in there and a temporary filling, and then you'll have to make an appointment with a entist as soon as possible to have the filling done."

Whaaaaaat!!!!!!! Why do you think I'm here you fucking A-Hole?? because I don't HAVE a dentist!!!! There ARE no dentists!! And now I have only a month (10 days of which are going to be spent meditating and trying to purge you from my brain) in which to get it sorted before this poxy mix of tipp-ex and cotton wool falls out and leaves me in agony!!

Back at home later that day I tried to call around the NHS Dental Surgerys to see if I could get an appointment to have the filling done.

"Ok sir, I can put you on the witing list if you like?".

"Umm, how long is the waiting list roughly?"

"Roughly? Ohhh, about err 12 months".

"12 months??!!! You're kidding me right??"

"No sir, that's the waiting list I'm afraid".

"But your emergency dentist has just put in a temporary filling that only lasts a month!! So what do I do when it falls out?!"

"Well, if you're in pain you can always make an appointment at our emergency drop-in centre for some emergency treatment..........

I give up.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed that tale from the darkside... see you all in 10 days!

Friday, April 09, 2004

Good evening.

Today was a fairly interesting day by my newly revised and alarmingly low standards. First I attemted to remove some of the stuff cluttering up my room and put it in the attic, but got distracted by the things that were already in the attic and ended up bringing them down instead of putting more up.... Then i went to town to meet the finance lady at the Art College and discuss pay etc. Turns out they want to pay me a bit more than I was expecting so that's a bargain. :)

Then i went into town and met Mike and Chris, two old friends, and their mate Darren. We headed to the pub and I ordered a pint (of Coke) and proceeded to rule the pool table. Then a man came over and asked if he could play. "Sure" I say, and being as i have just won the last game I jump up to play him. At first he seems fairly normal, if a little drmatic with his gestures of approval or condolance over the outcome of each of my shots... Then I start to notice that actually he's not very "normal" at all. In fact he's decidedly odd. Every now and then he'd suddenly emit very loud and innapropriate squealing noises, and then say "I'm good in' I?" (This is hereford speak for "I'm good aren't I?") with a big grin on his face. This wouldn't be so odd if it wasnt for the fact that I had just whupped his arse. "But you lost..." I say. "Yeah, but you was lucky wun you?" he suggests enthusiastically. "Ummm, yeah, I guess so", I say, starting to feel a little awkward as a realise that my three pals are all desperately trying not laugh out loud behind him. It has become clear that he's not just a wierdo, he's actually... ummm, what's the PC word these days?..... mentally challenged?.... Oh I don't know, it used to be called "backward" when I was a kid.... you know what I mean. Anyway, lovely bloke, just a bit of handful once he got excited.

After that first game he just wouldn't give up and kept coming and insisting on another game. In the end it all became bit too much so we headed to the Barrels, another pub on the other side of town. I had to move my car, and when i arrived my friends were already deep in conversation with another nutcase! This one was of the manic variety, and he kept doing word assosiation rapid-fire monolouges that would put Robin Williams to shame. But he seemed friendly enough, and when he offered to buy us all a drink his status as a "good bloke" was confirmed. He's a scruffy bastard. Green bomber jacket, mohawk hairdo. Then I notice his trousers and shoes. Straight black trousers and simple but shiny black leather shoes. "These are from the nick!", he says, pointing at the shoes. "I just got out, done a couple a munfs in Glouscester, they make em there ya know they make all sorts in all the diffren prisons an at..". He is wildly animated and keeps jumping from foot to foot and grinning as he bombards us with seemingly unrelated information at 100 miles and hour. Every time he leaves the room he seems to return with 2 pints of guinness. One he puts down somewhere in the room and the other he drinks. Then he returns with another 2 pints and does the same thing. Soon there are 3 untouched pints of Guinness sitting at different tables around the room! At some point he starts talking about how he needs to go across town to buy some weed and how he's going to be leaving any minute, but never quite does.

Half an hour later I decide it's time for me to head off, but as I start to say my goodbyes he jumps in. "What?! You can't go! We're gonna have a party here in a bit when i get back!!". "Sorry", I say, trying to think of a good excuse. "I've got to get the car back to my mum cos she needs it"..... 'What?! You've got a car?! Fuck! And there's me about to get a taxi! Can I have a lift then? Sorted! your goin that way int ya? Where you goin?"... "I'm going to Madley", i say, trying to remember where he wanted to go and if it's on my way and how I can avoid taking him there. "Perfect!!", he says. "I'm tryin ta get to the Oval, it's on the way innit?!". He's right, it is on my way. Suddenly i remember how 3 days ago I was trying to hitch to town for my job interview after trying to catch the bus with zero money in my pocket, and how all those bastard drivers with empty cars kept zooming straight past me without so much as a wave.... and here I was being a complete hippocrite and trying wriggle out of doing the same myself. "Ok, no worries mate, let's go", I say, getting up and saying my goodbyes. Out in the street we start heading towards the car. "Hang on a minute mate, I've just gotta rush in 'ere for a sec", he says, darting into the chemist (drug store). He comes out moments later and runs to catch up with me. "Sorry mate, just had to get a few needles. Not for me mind, for me mate. I don't do it no more. Used to mind you, made a right mess of me arms I did". He pulls up his sleeve to show me his many syringe marks, and instead reveals a thousand self-inflicted lacerations on his forearm. The wounds look fairly fresh. "Did that to get out of prison!! Not bad eh?!", he tells me proudly. He then goes on to explain to me that he is actually a complete mental case who has been treated and given up on by some of the most hardcore psychiatric hospitals in Britain. "But these days I go mad in a good way like being all happy and stuff see?" he explains to me cheerily. We've arrived at the car. Who is this psycho that I've just offered a lift to?!! Oh well, best not to piss him off now i guess. Anyway, despite being a complete headcase who cuts up his arms, I'm still getting the feeling that he is indeed a very genuine and friendly headcase. We start to drive. A police car goes past and he ducks down in the seat covering his face. He said he just got out of prison. He didn't specifically say he was "let" out..... oh dear. I make it across town, listening to him jump between the state of the peruvian rainfoests, the SAS, how he crashed a Van on E's, and why murderers in the Nick are top blokes because they'll always give you a rizla if you need one. We arrive in Newton Farm council estate, and he asks me to drop him off. "Wait there a sec will ya", he asks. "I just need a lift back to the road cos there's loads of blokes round ere who hate me and if I saw one I would have to 'urt im". He goes inside, and I try to decide whether to make a break for it. Before I have time to think about it he's back out. "No weed in 'ereford" he says, jumping into the front seat with a pungent smelling spliff hanging out his mouth. "You can't smoke that in here, it's my mum's car", I say. "It's alright, it's not a ciggarette, it's herbal!", he says. Oh, right, well that's fine then.... 5 mins later we are apparantly past all of the other psychos that want to kill him who he would be forced to hurt should he spot them and at last he gets out again. "Cheers for the lift Billy!!! See you in the pub later yeah?". Mmmm, maybe.

Sunday, April 04, 2004

Wassup G's?

I just got offered a possible job! It's pretty perfect as well. It's just 2 days a week working at the Hereford Art College, helping students with their projects using computers and things like that. Bargain! Looks like it's time to dredge all my creative computer genius back up to the surface of my brain... *ahem*. Mmmmm, looks like I'm gonna be in hereford for a while really.... my plan of moving to Bristol or London is seeming too difficult these days.... If I leave hereford i rekon it'll be to go abroad...

I had a cool suprise last night. I went out for a drink with Laura and Heather, 2 of my sisters, and bumped into 3 of my old school mates who I haven't seen for years! Joseph Tame (you may have heard of him from www.tamegoeswild.com), Marc Cove, and Benedict Allen. Was really nice to catch up! Then went back to Marc's as it was his younger brother's birthday, and finally managed to have a good old guitar jam!! Hooray! :)

Friday, April 02, 2004

Right. I've just spent bloody ages trying to create a photo album using dreamweaver. It's still a bit shit, but at least you can see some photos, and right now I dont have time to tidy it up... maybe later... go to www.billysalisbury.com/photos/bolivia-peru/index.htm

I've just signed myself up for a 10 day meditation retreat. It's something i've wanted to do for a while, but man it's quite daunting. 10 days of no speaking, communicating, reading writing etc, just sitting and meditating from 4:30am till 9pm (with a few breaks for food etc...). Am I crazy? Well, we'll soon find out! Anyway, I'll write more on the subject later, this monitor's giving me square eyes...