Boiled Eggs #4
What I did and thought about from the 8-10th July 2026
8th July
Got the subway into the west end to take the youth group to see the Barbie exhibition at Kelvingrove. Being on Dumbarton Road made me think of my first nannying job at the beginning of 2020 when I would meet N in the west end on her lunch break so she could breastfeed. I didn’t like catching the bus across town with a buggy and a baby (I was 20 and scared of everything) but teeny F’s helplessness was bolstering. I had to figure things out for the both of us.
The young people were very into Barbie as a cultural icon as opposed to ‘just’ a doll which is how I thought of her growing up. Mattel apparently introduced ‘Midge’ as an alternative to Barbie for parents who thought Barbie was too ‘mature’. Midge had mumsy hair and was dowdy compared to sexy Barbie in her striped swimsuit. Later they released a pregnant version of Midge to give children a ‘suitable introduction to growing a family’. Reading that bit felt bleak bc A. why are swimsuits inappropriate? and B. why can’t mum’s be sexy?
We looked at the modern ‘empowered’ Barbie’s: president, paramedic, army (?) etc. I got the idea but much preferred the dolls with chic unrealistic outfits. For example what child - boy girl or other - would want a doll wearing jeans and a white sweatshirt with a sticker saying ‘I voted’ when they could have nurse Barbie from the 60s wearing a navy cape, cat eye sunnies and open-toed stilettos?
Pointed out a photograph of Andy Warhol in his ridiculous wig next to a Barbie print but none of the kids knew who he was or thought it was funny. Reminded me of when Med (my oldest niece) took a photo of me with her elf bar for her BeReal and captioned it ‘grandma in her vape era’.
9th July
Arm workout and making lentil bolognese like a trad wife while M has a driving lesson. E voice-noting from the dissertation trenches and I’m half sympathetic half jealous - I miss being a student desperately though I (like E) have a tendency to become distracted by the pursuit of academic validation. I cared so much about what the tutors thought of me and viewed intelligence as something I could win and keep forever. During the masters P.E used to tell me to shut up about grades and I was like… grades are the point. But obviously the climb is the point even though the summit always moves when you get there. Felt briefly proud of this metaphor before realising I stole it from a Miley Cyrus song.
Dog walk with M talking about Groundskeeping which he is reading on my recomendation. I said I hope writing will be a developing relationship I maintain throughout my life. I want to measure my success as a writer through consistency and my own ideas of progress instead of by traditional metrics (money, fame, awards etc.) which are largely worthless and often inaccurate. Eg. I find a lot of bestselling novels unreadable or unsuccessful in their aims. In my (limited) opinion, writing for money has diluted both the pleasure and quality I find in the work. Obviously that way of thinking means that I need to have other things in my life that I use to generate income which is more than a bit tricky as I hate working (lol) and my health is too bad for most full-time jobs but too good to qualify for government assistance.
Probably all of this can be explained by the fact that I’m doing job applications at the moment which always sends me into a mild state of existential despair. I never feel like I’m representing myself accurately and I look at my CV and think simultaneously, wow did I really do all of this? and is this all I have to show for the last ten years of my life?
10th July
G’s birthday. 34, older than Jesus. Took E a lemon muffin and some dinner then got so sweaty on my run that my arms and legs were gleaming.
Saw Mamma Mia outside at the bandstand in the evening. It was heaving and felt Londonish because it was sunny, and everyone was wearing ‘cool’ outfits and drinking pints. Talked about work with Em who has just got a ‘big girl’ job. Both of us feeling the dichotomy between wanting to work flexibly and make art and fuck around versus the seduction of the boring job and steady pay cheque… she wants a mortgage, I want a savings account, we both want to do PhD’s in poorly funded subjects. C’s friend B is a doctor, and I asked her if she found our moaning frivolous and she said no, she didn’t envy us because she likes having a job where someone is always telling her what to do. I totally got what she meant even though I would be the most useless doctor on the planet (and it’s a low bar).
Movie was good; struck me as being very much about nostalgia which I hadn’t noticed on previous watches. The storylines of the older people were more compelling because it felt like the stakes were higher. Do children understand nostalgia? Until I was about thirteen, I felt like I had no past at all, and I woke up every morning a brand new person. Now I feel nostalgic about everything and attribute uncomplicated joy to memories that I’m sure I didn’t feel at the time. I’m always trying to archive things as they’re happening which sort of prevents the happening itself. Halfway through the film there was an intermission and the MC (or as wordle would say EMCEE) called for volunteers to get up on the stage and do a crowd-judged dance off. We were all talking about how much money we’d need to be paid to volunteer. Suggestions were anywhere between one and five grand. E said she’d rather have sex for the money than do a dance off.
Came home and talked about Groundskeeping more because M had just finished it. He said writing can be a way of colonising experience and centring a specific version of events, vocalising something I’ve been dancing around for ages in my own work. Narrative can justify a person’s worse urges or bring life-changing clarity but sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between those two things. Might even be both at once. Much 2 think about….
