So after the Events of last Thursday (which Kate is, I think cruelly, insisting on calling Puke Night), I then went to an amazing gig at the Roundhouse on Friday night - we saw the Cinematic Orchestra, who had written music to play over the top of some gorgeous old Soviet-era footage. It was absolutely mesmerising but even more noteworthy for being a night out when I had nothing to drink. I was still feeling very nauseated so the desire to consume alcohol was nil but nonetheless, there was something unusual about hearing such gorgeous, languorous music and watching such hypnotic footage that would have gone perfectly with a couple of pints of lager. Still, I resisted and felt better for it on Saturday, when I mooched around Habitat and had one of those moments when I thanked the world that I don't have a boyfriend because every single couple I saw was experiencing some sort of fractious, hungover tension. This was good timing as the night before, at the Roundhouse, every single couple was Crazy In Love and it was getting On My Wick. Saturday night was fireworks - front row at Ally Pally with Grania and then back to dinner at the Gay Hussar in Soho and out for drinks with our new friend on Percy Street to a random chintzy bar with much dancing to The Kinks and Wham and the Killers, and then, having missed the last tube, on to a weird pub and then tripping down Charing Cross Road to the night bus, back home around 3am. Sunday was filled with lovely parents and ham cooked in Coca-Cola (thanks to Nigella for the recipe and Sara for telling me about it) and DIY and The X Factor. Yum.
But it all caught up with me on Monday, coinciding with the frowny face I write in my diary to remind me that PMT might be striking, and I was very blue and no fun whatsoever. I got home from choir, had a bath and then plummeted into a pit of sadness. I thought about my Disconnect hypnosis and I thought how nice it would be if there were other ones on other subjects, and then I remembered my friend telling me about Hypnosis Downloads, and I checked out the website, spent about sixteen thousand pounds in a matter of minutes and am now miraculously completely better. Flippancy aside, if you hold any truck with hypnotherapy, this is one of the most addictive sites in the world. It's not the type of hypnosis where the guy tells you to pretend to be a sex pest and you gyrate on stage in front of thousands of laughing audience members. It just lulls you into a very relaxed state and then tells you ridiculously obvious things that you can't argue with.
But the amazing thing about this particular website is the range of titles. There are over 500 of them and, much like herbal medicine counters, it was hard to be selective. When I go to Boots and see pills for 'a healthy liver' or 'a strong heart' or 'a boosted immune system', I begin to panic. What right-minded person would look at those bottles and say, "Nah, actually I don't want a healthy liver fanks." Basically, every single pill has positive benefits for pretty much every human. I don't know how I am supposed to make an informed choice. I end up buying a multi-vitamin and some fish oils and running away before I get sucked in to everything else.
Hypnosis Downloads are similarly hard to resist. Overcome Perfectionism? Yes please. Perfect Body? Sounds good. Stop Negative Thoughts? Well, if you insist! Within about five minutes I'd put ten in my shopping basket - about five hours of hypnosis for several of my hard-earned pounds. The one I was most excited about was Bounce Out Of Bed, which I listened to last night, and this morning, when my alarm went off an hour earlier than normal, I did find it easier to get up. I did my yoga, and I feel much better. Like all these things, it's probably bollocks, but if it's bollocks that works, I don't give a monkey's.
What was most brilliant was my power to reject some of the titles. It made me realise that, troublemaker that I am, there are still some areas in which I find life easier than others. Telesales Confidence, for example, is not a subject I need help with. Nor is Skin Picking, Porn Addiction or Vaginismus Treatment. And I'm very glad not to have hungrily downloaded Gag Reflex, Fear of Others Vomiting or Stop Thumb Sucking. That said, if I ever develop any of those issues, I'll know where to look. There is basically a 30 minutes programme for pretty much every single human phobia, insecurity or panic apart from Fear of Only Meeting Idiots Until You Finally Stumble Across Mr or Mrs Right But Then Discover That One Of You Is Infertile Or That You're Both Fertile But Then He Or She Dies In A Tragic Road Traffic Accident When The Baby Is Six Weeks Old which is clearly so rational a fear that it's impossible to logically soothe someone out of the panic in a half hour .mp3. Ah well. Can't win 'em all.
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