18 November 2005


This is my 101st post. Big dorky geek am I.

Last night I accomplished everything one needs to accomplish when visiting St Andrews:

Massive Balaka - check

Too much to drink - check

Lament how awful students are - check

Lament how awful but attractive students are - check

Lament how not a student anymore - check

Go back to someone's flat for "just the one" - check

Marvel how the barstaff at your local didn't notice you'd been away - check

Breathe immense sigh of relief that you don't live here anymore - check

Sigh with immense regret that you don't live here anymore - check

Remind oneself that the fat, bald almost 30-year-old isn't going to go home with the vacuous, sexy, over-privileged almost 20-year-old. - check

I went for a run this morning to clear head. It worked but it hurt. Try running carrying 3 stone that you shouldn't be and you'll know why. Bleah.

Fine dining tonight. Though it means I have to miss a party for someone I adore at a place that I love. Which is not supposed to be the case, dammit. Poo. Everything in my life should be neatly scheduled so I that don't have to miss the things that I love.

Now, for the ultimate morning-after-back-in-st-andrews-question:

What am I going to do for lunch?

16 November 2005

Something cool

I found this today, during my lunch break. It looks very cool.

Another conversation

Little Nagging Voice: Good morning.

Me: Oh no.

LNV: It's your own fault, you know.

Me: Really?

LNV: Yeah, really.

Me: How so?

LNV: It's pretty obvious. And you know how so, because I know how so, and I'm a part of you.

Me: Don't remind me.

LNV: You're not in a very good mood today. And I'm going to start asking questions soon...

Me: Please don't. It's been a long and kind of extended weekend and dealing with questions from my own conciousness makes me feel dizzy.

LNV: A long extended weekend? It's Wednesday. You must've worked real hard last week to earn a long weekend.

Me: Bugger off.

LNV: So when did this weekend actually start?

Me: ...

LNV: Around 18 October, maybe?

Me: I've done loads, keeping the house tidy...

LNV: Jan does that, not you.

Me: Sorting the mail - my folks get a lot of mail.

LNV: That took you an afternoon. Yesterday afternoon, in fact.

Me: Setting the clock.

LNV: This is getting pathetic.

Me: Taking the garbage out.

LNV: Yes, congratulations on not forgetting it this week.

Me: Fuck you.

LNV: So, how's the exercise going? Considering you hate the shape you're in, you'd think you were hammering away at the NordicTrack.

Me: I only did it twice last week - I got sidetracked. And drunk. And I had house guests.

LNV: Dude, you can only manage 15 minutes tops anyway. If you dragged your lazy arse out of bed when you woke up instead of rolling over and going back to sleep, you could have done it without ignoring your guests.

Me: Well, yeah, I suppose, but - I love my bed.

LNV: It's not your bed. It's the guest bed. As soon as the 'rents get back, they're going to throw your arse out back. And do you love your bed more than you hate being fat?

Me: No. But, well, being well-rested is almost as important as being in good shape.

LNV: If you were in good shape, your lazy arse wouldn't need to sleep so much, dipshit. It's not as though you're resting after a hard day's work.

Me: Well, duh.

LNV: Nice comeback. Is that exceptional wit making its way into the novel?

Me: Of course.

LNV: Did you notice my snide remark about lack of hard day's work?

Me: Yes.

LNV: And what work are you supposed to be doing?

Me: Writing.

LNV: And are you doing this work?

Me: You can't give me shit for not being able to write! It's you that's stopping me; whispering in my ear that I'm deluding myself - that I won't be able to get it published, that sooner or later I'll capitulate and crumble and run with my tail between my legs back to Luvians or some other job! And that it would be better to watch a video rather than waste my time trying to write... How dare you give me shit for not writing!

LNV: That's not me.

Me: Of course it's you, you're the voice that nags me.

LNV: There are lots of different voices.

Me: It sounds just like you.

LNV: Well, it's not. That's the Self-Doubt Voice; he works a lot with the Procrastination Voice. They're not popular with the other voices. And of course we all have the same voice, we're all you. Duh.

Me: Very witty. And why am I not comforted by there being lots of you?

LNV: Hey, be grateful we're merely facets of your conciousness; we could could be different personalities, and then you'd be in the loony bin.

Me: Don't look now, but you just comforted me instead of nagging me.

LNV: Oh.

Me: Don't worry too much; it wasn't all that comforting.

LNV: Good. So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?

Me: I'm going to go exercise and then work on my novel.

LNV: Are you sure?

Me: How could I not after this conversation?

LNV: Anything else?

Me: I've got to pack for St Andrews this weekend.

LNV: Can you really afford that?

Me: No.

LNV: Didn't think so.

15 November 2005

The Bear Necessities...

Nicknames I have had:

Pumbah (the warthog from the Lion King...)
Dr Bré (like Dr Dré, geddit?)
Baloo (my number 1 all-time favourite - named after the bear in the Jungle Book by one of my best mates while dancing around to The Bare Necessities as he was convinced that I was indeed Baloo reincarnated. It may be the best compliment I've ever received)
Patch (shinty name)
The Weird Kid (I was 4, and liked wearing mismatched socks and shoes, ie 1 sneaker & 1 loafer - our downstairs neighbour thought that was weird and named me appropriately - I considered it a title of honour. Well, to be honest, I just thought it was cool - honour doesn't come much into a 4 year-old's emotional spectrum)
Richard the Turd (not a favourite)

Why list these? I got drunk with a friend last night and we got ridiculously nostalgic, toasting our friends far-and-near, and recalling exploits of the past and dancing like lunatics to the terrible tunes of our youth. We demanded an epic reunion and refilled glasses, trying to remember how Whigfield's Saturday Night dance went and laughing that she's now doing gigs in dodgy nightclubs in Peterborough.

It was great, and just what I needed. Sometimes you need to go over what you loved, what you did, all the people you were with to get on with doing new things.

Now when you pick a Pawpaw
Or a prickly pear
And you prick a wrong paw,
Well next time beware

Don't pick a prickly pear by the paw
When you prick a pear try to use the claw
But you don't need to use the claw
When pick a pear of the big Pawpaw

Have I given you a clue?

The bare necessities of life will come to you...

I think I'll go write something else for the rest of the day.

14 November 2005

4th time lucky

I failed. Stupidly. What a moron I am. And it wasn't like I drove like an arsehole - I didn't. I just forgot to look when I was reverse parking. Motherfucker. And my examiner was really nice as well. Didn't let on at all that I'd failed only 10 minutes into the goddamned thing. So my plan to drive up to St Andrews this week has changed slightly. I have no idea what I'm going to do. I've spent £400 on lessons in the last 2 months. Really quite annoyed. Aggrevated. Grumpy. FUCK!!!! I want to cry and punch someone and wake up and realise I haven't taken it yet. Just want to have it done with. Serves me right for waiting so long. Another test booked. 14 December. Please let it be over with then.

The reception...

I was mildly sceptical about the reception banquet. I was told that it was mediaeval and that the band played mournful folk ballads. That was not my idea of fun. I was ready to cringe and willing to drink myself to the state where I didn't care. Fortunately, rumours of mournful folk ballads were wildly exaggerated and the whole mediaeval thing was very well done.

Matt took the sword, as the groom was Lord of the Castle for the night. It was a pity there wasn't a dungeon as Andrew Hendry's drunken antics managed to upset anyone that wasn't used to it. Meaning all of Matt's new in-laws.

Luke P's best man speech. Funny and not 100% incriminating. Matt breathed a hefty sigh of relief and then Luke proceeded, during the course of the meal, to tell Matt's mother everything about his misbehaviour during and subsequent to university, including the arrest for drunken golf cart thievery. Wicked.

The first dance. Aw. There was a lot of dancing, and for good reason; the band was awesome!

Adam attempted to keep Andrew from too much trouble, and this is a rare moment where he succumbed to some booze sleep. Sadly it did not last, instead it seemed to reinvigorate him. Looks can be deceiving. Sleeping he looks all peaceful and innocent; awake he's a lunatic drunken pervert. In the nicest way.

The band. They were amazing, the everyone leaping about dancing like mental. So much so that apparently Georgie Wicken broke her jaw. But I've not confirmed that, and my source is famous for his bullshit.

Andrew unleashed. He was stopped before he could finish exposing himself to the wedding party.

All in all it was an amazing wedding. I'm still kind of recovering.

3rd time lucky?

My 3rd driving test is this morning. I feel pretty good about it. Wish me luck.

In recent days.

It was a big weekend. Andy came down from St Andrews and Friday night I cooked a storming meal, wisely accompanied by 4 bottles of wine between the two of us. Andy had not sampled my local drinking establishments and so after we'd feasted and had a small dram we went to the pub for some fine pints which we needed about as much as we needed a kick in the nuts. Saturday we went first to Brick Lane to check out a free trade market stall that had some really cool clothes and stuff (I'm not a big shopper, I assure you, but Andy is the metrosexual shopping king). Howies had a stand there and I got some chinos and a couple gifts. Then we found Worn Again. 99% recycled footware - unbelievably cool stuff. There were hippies everywhere. Sometimes I get anxious around hippies... don't know why. All were very friendly and happy that between Andy and myself we bought a lot.

We then went to The Ivy and met Andy's mum for lunch, which was amazing. Great food, great service, great company and yet more to drink. Lunch lasted 3 1/2 hours. It was followed by a return to Brick Lane where Andy, as a thank you for lunch, was kind enough to buy me these incredibly groovy shoes:Made from old suits, old car seat leather upholstery and prison wash cloths. I am becoming trendier. I'm not sure if it suits me but those funky shoes rock nonetheless.

Then we walked up to Bethnal Green to meet Andy's brother for some crazy party he was having at, and I quote, "some dodgy fuckin' east end pub". And the Victory was exactly that. The dress was meant to be eighties sportswear, but as we'd been to The Ivy, Andy and I were remiss in our costumes. Fortunately, Andy's mate and general legend Hector went all out knees up crazy:We drank a lot of beer and got very drunk. I borrowed Hector's shades to take this picture:

I suddenly remembered that: a) I was very, very far from home, b) the tubes would shut soon and c) I had to co-host a Champagne tasting the next day. So I left Andy, promising him that whatever time he got back was fine and just to give me a buzz. At 635 am I get a phone call asking to let him in - I wasn't feeling spectacular but he plain looked fucking dreadful.

So then Champagne tasting in Hertford. I'd never been to Hertford. It was a nice wee town. Pete C seemed in good form. He and his new(ish) girlfriend seem to be doing well with eachother. Kind of like toffee sauce, you know? Really sweet and after awhile it makes you want to barf.

Anyway, Pete MC'd the tasting well, with me jumping in with random knowledge and the odd comment and it went well until lunchtime, where slow (but not that slow) service led to one of the people becoming obsessed, cranky and far more annoying than a 15 minute wait for dessert.
Then I got back to London and barely had a chance to chill out when Luke P, Marcus P & Ru all rocked up to The Dove. So a few pints and laughs had and then home.