Drat!

It happened again, didn’t it?

Not only did I lose all track of time, but I said that last time I would write something about the internet, but I didn’t.

Not only do vampires have an absolutely rubbish sense of timing, but we (I say ‘we’, but…) also get distracted horribly easily.

What distracted me?

Well, not surprisingly, it was something shiny. I’m telling you, if anyone ever drops a pin or the back of an earring, I’m your vamp. I’m also great at spotting bits of foil, coins, suspicious wet patches on the pavement… The list goes on…

There was this one time when I was living in London and I went to a twmpath. It’s essentially a Welsh barn dance. Okay, so there aren’t that many barns in London, but there is a surprisingly large number of Welsh people there.

(Oh – pronunciation… in Welsh, ‘w’ is a vowel. It makes the same sound as ‘oo’ in ‘good’)

So, anyway, at the end of the evening, the person I went with is a friend of the band, so we help them take their gear back to the storage – which just happens to be in a crypt in a graveyard somewhere in the eastest of the East End. There were riots going on at the time, so we got an impromptu police escort to the church.

We drop everything off. We head back to Leicester Square (why, I have no idea), and from there, watch the sun rise over Taco Bell…

At which point, the guitarist starts complaining about his eyesight being fuzzy.

Cue jokes about putting more water in it, being emotionally affected by the sight of a sunrise etc.

I’m fine with sunrises, by the way. As long as the light isn’t too bright. I just have to be asleep before the sun comes up because after that, there’s no chance. I just have to wait it out till the following day.

And as soon as someone cracks a joke about ‘something in your eye?’ that’s when he realises… No, there isn’t something in his eye – but there should be!

He’s only gone and lost a contact lens, hasn’t he?

Now, in those days, they cost a fortune. None of this daily disposable thing. They were the equivalent of designer bespoke tailoring for your eyeballs.

Everyone looks around the immediate area.

Nothing.

Bad luck, mate.

You’ll have to be more careful in future.

Why don’t you just wear glasses?

So we all peel away and return to our various abodes. Most to sleep like the dead; me to, well… stay awake until the next sleep window comes around.

Then that brain worm starts niggling. It niggles me until I admit defeat and grab my coat. I head for the cemetery, which now looks quite different in the (rather bright) Sunday morning sunshine.

And no – I know what you’re thinking. Cemeteries are not like a second home for me. That’s a myth. They’re just nice quiet places where a vampire can sit and gather her many (many) thoughts without being distracted / pestered / annoyed by the residents.

So… I walk around a bit. The grass is lovely and wet around my ankles (please let that be dew, I’m thinking). And there it is… twinkling like an errant diamond (or a half-sucked Jelly Tot) in the grass is the missing lens. I managed to find this tiny piece of whatever in an area of over an acre of grass, gravel and tombs.

What was I talking about?

Oh. Yes.

The sun.

It was the sun that distracted me.

Bright, yellow and very, very shiny.

And almost unknown in this part of Wales (or any part, come to think of it)

Here comes summer?

Smoke and Mirrors part 2

The mirror incident came about because of something I forgot to tell you. You know how (in modern films at least), how vampires have a low body temperature? Well, this is actually true. I mean, it’s not massively low: they always exaggerate everything in films. I suppose it’s to make us sound more impressive than we already are. Haha. It’s a matter of a few degrees (about 4 or 5 degrees), but it is enough to make a difference physiologically.

I don’t feel the cold that much, but I am very sensitive to heat. And yet, for some reason, I’m like a little human radiator. I never need to wear gloves – even in the snow. In fact, in snowman building season, I’m always the one people come to when they want to get their (gloved) hands warmed up! They just grab hold of my little furnace-like mitts and thaw them out.

Sounds great, doesn’t it? It was a real nuisance when I was a child, because of course when I was feeling ill, I could have a roaring temperature and the thermometer would say…. Normal. Steam would be practically coming off my eyeballs and Mother would take my temperature and say, “No, you’re fine. Absolutely normal. You can go to school.”

Er, excuse me… I’m standing here with eyes like poached eggs, and you’re telling me that’s normal?

So, as you can imagine, I quickly gained a rather warped view of what constitutes ‘normal’. In the end I had to learn how to fake various illnesses if I really wanted to be treated as ill. That’s another story for another day.

And now, back to the mirrors. Because of the area and time I lived in as a child, we had to be checked for lead poisoning, due to how the water pipes were made in our area (I told you I was old!). Their interesting way of checking us for lead poisoning was to x-ray us. This will make sense in a minute. The temperature thing… This was the problem: if my temperature got too high, I was in trouble. As you can imagine, (high temperature) plus (sensitivity to heat) plus (V12 engine brain) equals… convulsions. Bad ones. I would just have a major neural freakout. This happened every time my temperature went too high. But of course, according to the thermometer, I was perfectly normal. So nobody could quite work out was going on with me. Hence the suspicion of lead poisoning.

This resulted in endless rounds of tests, on top of the lead thing. Everything had to be checked: liver, kidneys, blood, brain… It also led to me having these most horrific eye drops put in which made my eyeballs feel like they were being scrubbed with wire wool (I’m not exactly sure why this was done). They also made my pupils expand so much that my irises would appear to vanish. I have quite large eyes. Not Disney Princess large, but still big enough to give folks a start when I take my glasses off. I guess this is one of the reasons I have light sensitivity.

So where does this tie in with mirrors? One day, on the way back from one such eye-drop test, my father had been asked to go into the butchers and buy some sausages (Mother was always very good at killing as many birds as possible with as few stones as necessary). In this butchers shop hung the most incredibly beautiful mirror I had ever seen. It was full-length (well, full-length to a short 5-year-old) and had the most exquisite frame. It had mermaids and dolphins and seaweed all around it. At the top was that chap with the trident… Poseidon. That’s him. And there were little fish and crabs and waves and all manner of other encrustations. You’d have thought this sort of mirror would be more appropriate in a fishmonger’s, but I never really questioned it…

Anyway, I used to love this mirror and would spend ages staring at each little detail on it. However, on that fateful, post-eye-drop test day, I happened to catch sight of my reflection (yes, I do have one). More importantly, I caught sight of my eyes. Or lack of them, should I say. As I stared into the mirror, a pair of pitch-black animal eyes stared back at me. This caused me to have something of a meltdown, right there in the shop.

I don’t actually remember what happened after that, but apparently it took four men to carry me out of the shop. Even at that young age, I was immensely strong. I have been known to take doors off the hinges. In fact, the other day when I went for a run and stopped by a local bridge to stretch my calf muscles, I almost snapped the handrail of the steps leading up to it. It can be embarrassing.

So, ever since then, I’ve had a phobia of mirrors. Now, I guess that incident alone doesn’t seem enough to cause such an adverse reaction, but there is a little more to it. My big brothers used to make me sit down on a Friday night and watch films with them. Nice? No, not really. One of the TV channels (one of only 3 at the time!) would host a late night Friday creature feature, under the umbrella title of “Appointment With Fear”. Well, when I say ‘late night’, I of course mean it was on after the 10 o’clock news, but that’s really, really late for a little kid to be staying up!

It was the opening sequence that scared the living daylights out of me. There would be this strange and horrible noise in the background and a normal face would appear (turns out it was actually Bride of Frankenstein, but hey, what’s normal anyway?). The seemingly human face would then morph into a monster, and another, and another. It was – to me – far worse than anything in any of the films. (You can check this sequence out for yourself at http://youtu.be/24NiHts3fvU -it’s only the first 15 seconds or so). And then of course, I’d get the standard comment of “That’s you, that is!”

For years afterwards I had a recurring nightmare where I was at a party and when the clock struck midnight, the other guests would force me to sit down in front of a dressing table mirror, and make me watch as I slowly turned into a monster. Very Freudian. No, not Freudian like that! I mean Freudian inasmuch as since then I have tried to lay low, in case people found out what I am. Perhaps this is what made me the Everyday Vampire.

You can probably guess how I got my phobia of spiders…!

 

 


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