I did something really cool today.
That bruise there is my birth control for the next three years. It’s a tiny plastic tube, inserted under the skin, which releases a tiny amount of etonogestrel very very slowly. it’s just like the pill, really, only I don’t have to remember to take it every day. it’s because it takes away that element of human mistake that it’s the most effective type of control you can get at the moment. In a few days the bruise will be gone and I’ll only know it’s there when I touch it to check. which will be often.
Subdermal stuff wigs me out in a too-many-sci-fi-films way, especially because of that really awful scene in A Beautiful Mind. and that horrible bit in the first Matrix film. I don’t like to think about those things too much. but those things aside, this is simple and perfect. plus it’ll give me something to poke in the library when my books get boring.
Science is awesome.
Last Sunday night I was sitting in the back of a minibus, speeding in breakneck manner through the hilly countryside around Mousehole, Cornwall. The passengers of the minibus were my consort group: two sops, two altos, three tenors and two basses. One of the tenors was driving. Badly. There was a music student in charge of the radio, but we ended up on Classic FM anyway because of one very special case. It was the hall of fame countdown, and they were playing Nimrod, that very overplayed but stunningly beautiful movement from Elgar’s Enigma Variations. This movement spends three minutes building from nothing to one intensely amazing climax, then it falls away again into silence. As it played, gradually all our conversations stopped and nine people fell silent, listening to the build-up and waiting for the resolution.
The music built, gradually, as we listened in silence. Hearts were tight. We were a second away from the crucial moment.
The minibus drove into a valley and the radio went dead.
Nine people screamed in unison.
(for some reason this is my sweetest memory of the whole thing.)