Firstly, I shall start with Eurovision, because that is a fun (if nationally embarrassing!) thing. I had a few people over to watch (and of course get somewhat inebriated too) last Saturday (the boys headed into town afterwards, even though we were replete with alcohol, and good music. I decided to stay in and save my spondoolicks, particularly as there was nowt special going on in town...so instead I took to sending slightly embarrassing MySpace messages! I think the Be Good Tanyas put it better than I ever could when, in 'Light Enough to Travel', they sang: "Promise me we won't go into nightclubs/I really think that it's obscene/What kind of people go to meet people/In a place they can't be heard or seen". Damn right lasses!).
Said friend and I were, ahem, lucky enough to catch Scooch (the UK entry) the previous Saturday at G.A.Y. I've never been to G.A.Y. before...well, I've been to G.A.Y. bar and I've also been to the Astoria 2, just not on a night it was G.A.Y. (that's an annoying thing to have to type repeatedly!)...they have so many stonking acts on, so why did we have to catch Scooch for fuck's sake??! They looked like 12 or 13 year olds making up formation dance routines in their bedroom...it was teeth-grindingly awful...and I felt very embarrassed for them. Still, I suppose they were getting paid to be there and I was the FOOL who parted with my hard-earned to get in! Even more demeaning was the fact that Right Said Fred were supporting Scooch...poor, poor Messrs Fairbrass.
Can I tell you a secret? I went through a brief spell of fancying Richard Fairbrass as a pre-pube! Go figure...I don't know whether that explains an awful lot or is just even more confusing to the types out there who ask things like "So, what do you do in bed?". Christ, use your imagination peeps. Failing that, watch The L Word...blatant soft porn fest!
Seriously, I downloaded series 4 of The L Word recently, and even I was astounded by how frequent, and explicit, the sex scenes were. I'm not complaining, but come awn, are there people out there whose lives are really like this? It's not a show I want to like. I want to be able to sound all intelligent, like all those pseudo-political, highfalutin dykes out there, and dismiss it as frippery. But, the thing is, I kind of like it. I want to continue watching to find out what happens to the characters. It's seriously not just for the soft pornish elements...although, granted, that is a boon.
Anyway, incidentally, because I know you are wondering...Alice. Although the arty, ballsy, deaf rebel of a sculptor has a certain something to her. And Shane's new 'sweet thang', Paige. Or...or...or! Tee hee. The truth is that I just don't fancy women like that in real life...not that any women really look much like that anyway. It's the characters...which is the same thing as me never thinking 'cor, she's hot', but learning to crush as I get to know people! Only not real! So not real!!
Where was I? Oh, Scooch! I think I am done with them...and, no thanks, I'm quite alright without "something to suck on for landing"...cringe! Like some dodgy Steps rip-off. Although it didn't disturb me as much as the man last year who had women dressed as schoolgirls. Anyhoo, the next part of my rant was going to be further 'weekend away in the big smoke' stuff.
Ronan and I headed down on the Friday, via Surrey...or rather down to Surrey and then back up to London again! We stopped in for a few hours to say howdy to the 'rents and little bros. It's so difficult to believe that the older of my two younger brothers is now sitting his GCSEs! Still hasn't instigated those terribly doomed feelings of aging yet though...I have friends that are anxious that 27 is old! What the fuck?? Aging doesn't bother me...yet, anyway! I do, however, know that when I get to 40 I will feel like I have only blinked since I was 26. The numbers don't worry me one jot. We shall see about the physical 'side effects' as they set in!
Friday night we didn't arrive at Antony's until around midnight, after my dad taking us out for a meal...and the subsequent drive through London to our final destination, which I never find very easy! (Antony is Ronan's friend with whom we were staying...in Canary Wharf...oh we are so posh! Transiently, whilst here, I shall mention that I went to see '28 Weeks Later' on Sunday. Loved it. I always love a good ole gore-fest. The reason I mention it here is that it is awesome (apologies for the brackets within brackets again. But I would just like to point out that I mean 'awesome' in the true sense of the word, as opposed to the American bastardisation) to see London so deserted. It is simply never like that, so it's kind of fascinating to see. So I guess I would recommend it for that alone...just be prepared for the gore and fairly limited plotlines! Ben and I are now a little obsessed with practising zombie noises...it has even infiltrated our text messages...sad, sad ,sad).
New paragraph I think. So, Friday we just had a couple of drinks together in Antony's flat. On Saturday the boys slept forever and I got jittery about wanting to be out and about doing stuff! Which meant that, when it got to 11.30am, I simply had to bounce on Ronan to get him up...I'd been awake yonks and yonks! I then punished him by making him come to the Vivienne Westwood shop...or, indeed, two Vivienne Westwood shops. The necklace I want is sold out in all their shops in England. Soo, sweety, the one you sent me a picture of is like the one I want, but is a fake I'm afraid. I have since purchased one off eBay (relatively) cheaply...I was just so desperate to have it, and it was looking more and more impossible! This one is genuine...well, that's if the photos aren't lying...it hasn't arrived yet.
My latest 'want' is a necklace from Tatty Devine (I love the way I can just let rip in these blogs...I sound like such a whiney, spoilt brat!)...but I'm darned if I'm paying £78.00 for what is essentially a lump of brightly-coloured plastic! Here's a pic:
It's good and chunky :o)
We then spent the day (we're still in London for those who have now completely lost the plot) bimbling through Carnaby Street (basically because it was close to the Westwood shop and therefore required minimum effort) and Soho to Covent Garden to people watch. It is simply my favourite place to do that. Ro didn't like it (we managed to get caught up in some gut-wrenchingly smelly entertainer's 'act'!)! We mooched some shops (I introduced Ro to Muji, at which point he moistened and eventually had to be dragged away from the dinky little pretty things!) and I bought some FABBO shoes (just from Shelley's, not some geet designer place...I'm so not with that!)...black wedge HEELS and they are just perfect! We 'lunched' at Ed's Diner, a favourite childhood haunt that does the best milkshakes ever...well, maybe bar the brownie one in Hard Rock, if they even still do that there. Yes, yes, further evidence of spoilt brat childhood, I know. I can explain...I'm just not going to!
We then found a pub for a spot of light refreshment (via Lee Ho Fook's...I challenge you to identify the song that was name-checked in...without Googling it!). It was something like £3.50 for two pints! Why on earth is Newcastle so expensive? It's ridiculous. Seriously, I've paid more for a round in Newcastle than ever in London...and I'm not frequenting massively swanky places in either! We chatted about the general hot-ness of Johnny Depp and Catherine Deneuve and some nice people taught us a little about bar billiards. And then we realised the time! Maah!
Swiftly back to the flat for some showering (I hate the grime of London on my skin...even smoggy Boro doesn't do that to you) and getting ready. We hit the town rather late and, bless Antony, he took us to The Vespa Lounge in order that I could get some lezzie-spotting in pre-uber G.A.Y. Only The Vespa Lounge doesn't exist any more! It is now some sweaty, dingy rock bar. Antony apologised profusely for this...which was entirely unnecessary, as I thought it was GREAT! I've always loved rock bars/clubs...all except for the fact that the clientele generally make me feel like I'm about 75! Snakebite and black a go go! (Not for me, I hasten to add!).
Much talk of twinks...or chicky-chicky-chickies...later (on Antony's part) we landed at the clerb. And you already know about Scooch. But not the friend I made, who was called Fabio...classic! He was from Turin and we chatted, amongst other things, about Clapham! Not much more to tell from Saturday.
Sunday the boys slept even later...groan! When they finally got themselves erect (erm...?) we headed to the Gilbert and George exhibition at Tate Modern, followed by some noodling (as in eating noodles) in Greenwich. The exhibition was smashing...at least I thought so. I'm not sure the boys were quite so impressed, despite the willies and homo-eroticism. There was no time to check out the general galleries, although I did get to sneak a quick peek at Dali's 'Metamorphosis of Narcissus' and Magritte's 'The Reckless Sleeper'. I don't think I will ever tire of looking at those, or cease to be astounded.
Ok, enough Londinium for now. We drove back up on the Monday and then I had to go to a friend's 30th birthday party...and then recommence work the following day...all rather shattering!
I get so immersed in my own little Divinyl world when 'blogging'...I've been here for hours! This one is promising to be so long that I think I'm going to have to call it a day and do it in shifts!
Ok, going back to work was pretty much where we were at eh? (As per my usual form, I have just lost about an hour and a half's worth of the typing I'd done since coming back...grrr! And I should already have set off for my weekend in Nottingham by now!). Anyway. Work has been something of a shock to the system; although I am, thankfully, partaking in a phased return. There's quite a lot to get my head around and (re-) take in though...I already have eight new cases and I had to go to court on Wednesday (fucker had contested her breach...I was shitting a brick!). I am feeling a lot less 'better' than I was before going back. But I will be fine. And I even had chocolates with a "Welcome back! X" post-it note on them in my desk drawer...thank you Mr Wilcox...bless!
Work has meant quashing my becoming-established routine somewhat. That had grown to include Catchphrase, which was showing at 4.00am on FTN (although I persist in referring to it as Countdown...when we all know that Catchphrase is far more intellectual!). Maybe it's because Catchphrase has a 'Cash Countdown'? That's the bit where the contestants can buzz in and say anything that comes into their pretty little heads until they get the answer right...or the time runs out! They come up with such tosh it's blinding! Roy Walker (I had to Google for his name...does that confer any anti-geek points? I suspect not, seeing as I am here blogging about Catchphrase!) is a miss though, with his "It's good, but it's not correct"...c'mon Roy, just tell it like it is, that was blantantly a ridiculous thing to say!
Nick Weir, the host in those shows that have been airing (again) recently, seems like one of those people who is so desperate for friends he would say almost anything...it's like he's a child showing off and trying to be 'cool'. And it's so not working! He's obsessed with the bar and drinking...nope, it's not going to make you any more popular me old mucker...although maybe he's just trying to numb the pain? Tee hee.
It's thoroughly amusing how 90s it all is...especially as it tries to be kind of modern and futuristic, using terms like 'Cosmic Blowout'! My Catchphrase holiday destination (you can choose to go anywhere in the world) would, I think, be Tokyo...I wouldn't have to get jabs to go there right? Although I'd have to have won a lot of spending money. There are still a fair few places in Europe that I would like to see, but that is out of the question when they are paying for wherever you want to go; you may as well choose a stonkingly expensive one! It really annoys me when people choose to go to, say, Spain or Italy. Also on my 'must must' (visit) list are Canadia (sic), New Zealand and Las Vegas. Places like Vietnam and South America, no matter how much I want to see them, are currently ruled out by the aforementioned needle phobia. I WILL manage to get over it someday...I am not saying my goodbyes without having seen Angel Falls!
Rather tenuously linking on from here (for the fact that it was on tv and is based on a game), I watched 'Clue' recently. Why is the board game called Cluedo in the UK and Clue in the US? It's not like the latter are afraid of a bit of a 'do' (as a suffix at least!)...there's Where's Wally vs. Where's Waldo as proof of that! Anyhoo, 'Clue' was thoroughly cheesy and, therefore, quite entertaining. Anything which stars Tim Curry is always worth at least a sideways glance in my opinion.
Ok, onto the customary music bit (it is so dull when you have to retype everything!). If anyone fancies coming to see Josh Pyke, Kate Rusby or Sunny Sweeney in Newcastle, let me know (just Google for dates etc. if you are potentially interested)...I could do with going to a good gig. Scooch at G.A.Y. in no way made up for the fact that the festival we were heading down to London to catch was cancelled, and therefore we missed out on seeing Ms Ditto et al. Saying that, I am off to see Patti Smith, Joan As Police Woman and Bat For Lashes next week.
Whilst we are on a musical tip...I was looking on Wikipedia the other day, as I had heard that Alison Goldfrapp was from Alton, where I went to sixth form college. And indeed she is. Also mentioned as 'famous' people on the Alton page (bearing in mind that it is just a small market town) were two people I used to know! One is a friend of my parents...and I guess it is feasible that he is well-known, I just hadn't realised it. He is an artist and runs a mouth and foot painting gallery nearby (he was born without arms as his mother had been given thalidomide). The other is a girl I knew a little at college, and she is now an actress/playwright/screenwriter. How inferior does that make me feel??
In a similar vein, I was thinking the other day about how one doesn't necessarily always realise the impact one makes on people. A lot of people I went to school with have recently got back in touch via Facebook (if you don't already know what Facebook is, don't bother finding out...it is dull dull dull! And, as Becky says, it "dobs on you" everything you do!), and one of them has an e-mail address that is a phrase we had as an 'in joke' when we were teenagers. You always kind of look back from your own perspective only don't you? I mostly only remember the feeling of being a 'misfit' at school...strange that it takes something more concrete to also remember all the laughs and acceptances. Hmmm.
Back, from that slight aside, to music. I have been thinking of starting a 'rubbish song lyrics' thread. I shall start you off with a few choice cuts:
- 10,000 Maniacs - The Lion's Share: "The lambs go hungry (not fair)/The biggest portion is the lion's share" (stupid stupid stupid!).
- Des'ree - Life (although there are so many rubbish Des'ree lyrics to choose from, e.g. "What's your sign?/Do you know?/Let me guess/It's Scorpio"!!): "I don't want to see a ghost/It's the sight that I fear most/I'd rather have a piece of toast"...shockingly bad!
- Snap - Rhythm is a Dancer (yes, that old classic!): "I'm as serious as cancer when I say rhythm is a dancer". You what?
Ok, I really should be packing and stuff, so I shall go now. But before I do I shall just add this...it fucking amazes me...there was a link to this article in a video on YouTube...by Boh3m3:
(It's not a video Soo, just another web page, so you can probably check this one out!). The topic is 'conversion parties'. I'm afraid I don't have time to pitch in my two cents worth right now, but it's probably unnecessary anyway...seriously, what is this crap?
Until next time peeps. xxxxxxx