No one wants to live through major historical events, and yet here we are. I took last week off because literally on Wednesday I got really sick with covid. I think I’m over the worst, but it’s just annoying and draining.
Yes hello, I have covid
I’d describe it as being like a slow-moving cold. Like, when you get a common cold (another member of the coronavirus family!), you expect it to last a certain amount of time, then you’re back to normal-ish. With covid it feels like a cold but it’s really really taking its time.
In the beginning, it was about three days of just feeling a bit tired, then it suddenly took hold. Then it was fever, chills, a cough, sore throat, nasal congestion, brain fog, feeling weak, super tired, all of the above.
And then it’s feel all those symptoms slowly diminishing, but also sometimes coming back for a little while before going away again. It absolutely feels like my immune system know what to do, how to fight it, but it’s just taking a lot longer than usual.
Check out my resting heart rate, courtesy of frequent readings via my Apple Watch. It was all looking very standard until that big spike — that’s when I was at my sickest.
A couple of days ago I was feeling quite good, but now I’m back to feeling a bit crap.
When you want to go something but you’re not sure what or where
Last week the police ended the occupation outside Parliament. It was weird to watch it live, especially the TVNZ coverage where the cameraman was literally down on the ground, quite close to the action at times.
The thing that grabbed my attention was something that happened online. That day, a website was set up to collect names of people interested in helping with a community clean-up of the Parliament site.
It turned out that couldn’t actually be a thing — the site needed to be cleaned up specialists in hazmat gear, and the area is currently being treated as a crime scene.
But the thought of making a website in response to a major event reminded me of what used to happen back in the 2000s. Something would happen, someone would make a website.
Facebook kind of killed that culture, because then someone would instead created a Facebook group or event so everyone could chime in over there.
But Facebook is kind of dying now. Whenever I go on there, it’s the same small group of people making regular posts, never anyone older than an elder Millennial.
So maybe ye olde website is actually thee place to host an online gathering of kindred spirits. Even if it’s not possible to actually pick up a charred tent from Parliament’s front lawn, at the very least, putting your name and email address in a web form is something.
The rain in Ukraine falls mainly on the champagne
While the invasion has been going on in Ukraine, I’ve been thinking of my favourite things about the country. My knowledge of Ukraine is filtered through Eurovision, and I have friends who had a great time in Kyiv when Ukraine hosted in 2017. (There was a very good, very cheap and very meaty restaurant near the media centre!)
I’ve also been thinking about Verka Serduchka, the sparkling drag queen who represented Ukraine at Eurovision 2007. Her Eurovision song “Dancing Lasha Tumbai”, was criticised for being a thinly veiled anti-Russian diss track (“Lasha Tumbai” sounds very much like “Russia goodbye”) but she went and came second in the contest anyway.
Verka’s alter-ego Andriy Danylko was a judge on the X Factor Ukraine. In the grand final of the 2019 season, Verka made a guest appearance and performed her new single “Make it Rain Champagne”.
This was in late December 2019, the grand final of the show, and about a week before the Orthodox Christmas, so it was very much a festive time. (And a couple of months before the pandemic, so it also feels like it was about ten years ago.)
Verka came out, performed her song and it was total joy. It wasn’t enough to perform the song just once — Verka immediately followed with an encore. This is the kind of joy I want to hold on to.
(Also note the t-shirts of Verka’s posse. They read “SEX / WORK / MAY”, a parody of a Soviet-era phrase that celebrated International Workers Day on 1 May. The work never ends.)