Spot on

Transport update: I’ve mainly been missing my metros/ferries/buses in to work. This is not a good thing.

Dog update: I spent a short time sniffing my dog’s ears last night. She smells like biscuits. I’m happy she’s alive and my dog. I wish I could keep her forever. I’ll have her for HER forever. My Susan.

I believe I have a gig to attend this evening in Sunderland somewhere however I have been given but vague details and my enthusiasm for the event is some what ‘meh’.

I mentioned in a previous blog that I seem to attract conversation from strangers. This morning I was on the phone to Emma (one of my wives) and this man just stood listening to the entirety of my telephone call, shaking his head at me in places. He then started chatting away to me. When he found out I was from Jarrow he seemed very irritated that I had to travel such a distance. I explained it wasn’t that bad, he himself had travelled all the way from Gateshead for the sole purpose of going to the butchers in north shields. When we boarded the bus I knew he was going to sit next to me and continue the conversation. He did. I could not stop staring at the silver hairs which were sprouting out of the tip of his nose. Surely if you had such a growth you’d notice? Trim them maybe? If it had of been socially acceptable I’d have plucked them out for him, gladly.

The people, who know me best, would say I have a slight obsession with hair removal. Particularly plucking, it started when I was 13 and I randomly plucked all the hair out of my shins because I liked the look of the root and the pain felt a bit nice. I have scarred shins. Once I plucked all of the hairs out of my nose, I was quite pleased with myself until I became ill, apparently nose hairs are important. On another occasion I sat and (unknowingly this time) pulled out the middle third of my right eyebrow, it took a while to let that grow back. In 2008 I waxed my face to get rid of all those fine facial hairs, it seemed like a good idea until the next morning when I realised that my makeup wouldn’t go on properly and I had strange rectangular bald patches from the waxing strips. Apparently it’s a condition it’s called trichotillomania an obsessive compulsion to pull out hairs.

Today, other than hairs, I’ve mainly been thinking about a spot that’s in my ear. It has been there for a couple of days in my right ear. Every now and then I poke it to check its still there, it is. It’s quite painful, especially when I poke it.

In 2006 I had a spot in my left ear. I remember it was then because I was travelling to uni when I noticed it. It was very awkwardly positioned, try as I did I could not pop the thing, then in a contortionist fashion I arranged my arms and managed to get the cretin. Stu was stood by me at the time brushing his teeth. It was quite simply the best spot I’ve ever had, It went all over the mirror and I was delighted by it, I clapped and cheered the event (simple mind) Stuart did not share my enthusiasm on account of his jealousy.

A day or two past and a scab formed. Now you know when you want to pick a scab but you know you shouldn’t? And you start to run your nail around just the edge of the scab, with the “I’m not actually picking it, so this doesn’t count” type of reasoning. Well I did that, then I had this little feeling of relief and I swear I heard a bit of a pop noise, it came away like a plug of puss. Again I was delighted by this, it left a bit of hole in my ear, because the result was so rewarding I did not feel the usual measure of guilt which seems to accompany the picking of a scab.

As a person I am equal parts sick as I am vain. I would relish the opportunity for another ‘plug spot’ experience; however I don’t really want a minging ear. I’m aware I have little control over the out come.

I’m also aware that I have just wrote an entire blog about hairs and a spot I had nearly 5 years ago.