i'm sitting at work again on the last day of my contract and the last day of the year. i'd be excited if i wasn't borderline exhausted. being here at 8:30AM has been more than a little taxing and i don't think i could have kept it up much longer, not with they way i've been sleeping... or haven't been sleeping. last night it was about 4 hours. the night before it was 3 from 9:20 to 12:20, then another 3 from 4:00 to 7:00. sunday night gave me... 3 hours. on saturday night i slept from 4 until 1 in the afternoon. friday was more like 5AM until 12:30 after a half-hour nap at 2ish, then thursday went from about 3:30 until 11AM.
see, i've been all over the place. odd hours, naps, interrupted sleep... somehow i've managed to remain fairly lucid through the days, then being completely and totally awake the moment the church across the road tolls out 11PM.
at least i can sleep in tomorrow, and believe me: i intend to. i'll head home after i knock off from work and get a couple of hours of nap into me, then tonight louise and i are heading into town to bar-hop and get nicely slaughtered. we made an agreement... no, i tell a lie: i imposed an agreement. since she's been getting drunk and making my life hell of late, tonight's my turn.
one way or another i'm going to have a good time tonight, even if i don't remember much of it and regret it tomorrow. so, in what i can only assume will be my last blog posting for this year, here's to the end of Year Fail. Fuck you 2008. Fuck you, you skull-fucked, gangrenous headwound of a year. for every moment of joy (and there were, i'll admit, more than a few) i put up with hours of arse-rape, all with your name in the date. with any luck i'll wake up with selective amnesia tomorrow morning which will whittle my memories of you down from 12 months down to 4.
fuck you, fuck off and good night.
and to anyone who ISN'T 2008, Happy Fucking New Year. if you're reading this you're probably not one of the people i want to set on fire, infect with necrotising faciitis and kick into the nearest cesspit so many thanks and i'll see you (figuratively if not literally) in 2009.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
time out in the 'burbs...
i woke up on xmas morning when Moonbug burst into the room to tell us that the taxi was due in an hour. Cam, who's heavy breathing and muttering in the night had woken me up at least once was up in a flash. Alex and i were less quick. somehow i managed to snag the queen-size bed in the spare room while the 2 guys i shared it with took up station on couch-cushions on the floor, and so i slept in a bed i could stretch out in for the first time in nearly 3 months.
there were 8 people crashing at Moonbug's house in Brockley on xmas-eve, of which 7 were Australians (more or less randomly). we'd eaten tofurkey and roast vegies and enjoyed a few drinks over the evening, then found places to sleep in advance of a mass-migration to SiJ's place in Woolwich the next day.
SiJ lives in an ex-council estate flat in a somewhat rough looking area, and while it looks like you'd pretty much expect an estate to look after watching a couple of seasons of The Bill, she's made it incredibly pleasant inside and somehow managed to squeeze 13 people in there for the day. this was impressive enough, but she'd also gone and cooked enough to feed most of us (other folk did the bring-and-share thing), as well as 5 different desserts to top it off. the table was covered in party poppers and streamers and place settings and when the food came it was completely fucking insane.
i should probably explain at this point that i was one of... um... 2 non-vegans in the room? i think the numbers were around there. as such all the food was vegan. not that this is a bad thing, and the food was awesome. Cam made a nutloaf-and-stuffing pie which was absurdly good, there was cous-cous, steamed carrots with soy sauce, stewed tomato and onions and roast vegies. we ate like vegan kings while i drank the beers i'd left out on the balcony to stay cold (who needs a fridge when it's 2degrees outside?).
it was a cruisy day all told. we got there at about 12:30 and commenced the time-honoured tradition of "bumming around". i retreated off into the spare room (the Groovy Chick Room, named because it had been painted lavendar and covered on Groovy Chick decals) at 2ish with my book for some timeout and curled up in a bed so soft it seemed to have been made from marshmallow clouds, stuffed into the thighs of virgins, whereupon i promptly passed out while the rest of the party took photos of me (something i didn't find out about until later and which didn't really bother me overly - at least i didn't wake up with my hand in a bowl of tepid water). after we finished stuffing outself full i surveyed the scene in the kitchen and since i hadn't actually contributed diddly-squat to the event apart from my empty stomach, i decided to start washing the dishes. there were a lot of them. i think i'd been going for the best part of an hour with various people drying up as i went before i was kicked out and ordered to eat trifle, after which i came back and kept at it. try running xmas lunch/dinner for 13 people with 8 or so dishes, with entre plates, mains plates, snack bowls, cups, glasses, mugs, cutlery, pots, pans, frying pans, serving dishes, serving trays and... well, you get the idea. the worst thing is that in two rounds i still didn't get through everything, but wasn't allowed to continue.
the tables were packed up by the time i came back into the main room - the TV had been switched to BBC-Whatever and i caught the end of the Queen's Xmas Message before the Dr Who Xmas Special played. Moonbug was particularly excited by this, and went on to gloat to various people around the world by SMS that she'd got to see it "live", so to speak. once this was done i checked my email and read my book while everyone else played party games. i have only the most minor interest in such things - i prefer to watch, generally. i wound up chatting on facebook for an hour or so until i noticed a book on the floor (not a book's natural habitat) called "A Million Little Pieces" by James Frey which advertised itself as an honest recounting of an ex-junkie's rehabilitation, so i picked that up and got through a hundred or so pages.
it was 4 in the morning before we got out of there, following a long and protracted discussion about who was crashing there, who was going back to Moonbug's place and how it was all to happen. by lucky circumstance there was a guy there with a car who was going more or less in the direction of my place, and so at a bit past 4:30 i hopped out on the side of Brixton Road near my house and wandered back to base and my cold, empty room.
louise was out - spending the 24th-26th with family, and i'd left a couple of hours after her so the room was as i'd left it. by 5AM i'd settled down and hit a deep, dreamless sleep.
1PM and i was awake and moving again... well, moving's such a relative term. i suppose i could have gone out and done something, instead i enjoyed having the room to myself for a while, alternating between watching episodes of Stargate Atlantis, playing games and reading my book. another great joy of being on my own is that i eat when i want, which is usually early. for this reason, i was on facebook again at 6ish to find a message from Laura. we've been chatting a fair bit of late. neither of us really knows a lot of people around and we've been playing mind-games via SMS and IM when we're bored. as such, many of our conversations are convoluted, but the gist of it went:
"What are you up to?"
nothing much. lying around, watching Stargate Atlantis. why do you ask?
"Wanna come over mine and watch a movie?"
i responded in a roundabout way that i would, got some directions, got dressed and an hour later i was knocking on her door out near Manor House. she's sharing with a couple in a modern, bright townhouse down the road from Greenlanes, 8 or 10 minutes walk from the tube. i was way fucking jealous - it's damn sight nicer than my place, and she has a queen-size bed in a room to herself - but then i didn't ask what she paid for the place either. with the housemates away for the time being, she has the run of the place and was baking Dutch cookies (which were delicious). come 3AM we were sitting on the couch having managed to not actually turn on the TV, but killed the hours chatting instead which i prefer and i was pondering how the hell i was going to get home, and which bus to catch.
"You can crash of you want."
you sure? that'd work really nicely - cheers. the couch feels pretty comfy.
"Well, you're not sleeping with me."
no worries there - couch is fine.
half an hour later i'd warmed up the blanket and i was lying there listening to the sound of... nothing. no flatmates having late night showers, no car noise, no sirens, no louise snoring, no Cam muttering... nothing. next thing i knew it was 1PM and Laura was standing in the doorway waking me up.
the rest of that day was completely and totally slothful and exceeded only in its laziness by how goddamned pleasant it was. we got through Run Fatboy Run and Mr & Mrs Smith before rotting our brains with House M.D. reruns on Sky, wishing death upon the advertising executives who decided to barrage us with the same ads for antacid, cold&flu remedies and mouth-ulcer ointment. oh, and whoever decided to make an ad consisting of 50 seconds of women screaming in agony to promote SIDS? fuck you, sir. fuck you right in the fucking mangina. i didn't need that and you may kindly burn in each circle of hades in turn.
in the end i set a timer to make sure that i got out the door by 11, in time to get the tube home, and at a little past midnight i wandered into the room with a burger and chips from Oval Kebab. i found out a little bit later that louise had messaged me while i was on the tube asking where i was. of course, if i'd really wanted her to know i would have told her or left a message, but no matter. i was back at base now and obviously in one piece so i left her to talk on Skype while i made my tea disappear.
"Where have you been?"
out.
"sorry I just was worried..."
i'm not sure why that would be.
i got on Skype so that i could return a call from Sandra that i'd had to cut short because my mobile's battery was near dead. it rang again at 4:50AM - Ondine calling to touch base and say hi. i was well and truly asleep, but it was good to touch base even if briefly.
today's been more of the same. lying around, playing around online, playing games, watching tv repeats, burning through my book with me and louise generally ignoring each other. tomorrow i'm back at work for the last 3 days of my contract, and i need to pay the rent. at this rate it looks like i'll be doing exactly that for NYE and i'm not so sure i care, but maybe something'll come up - who can say?
there were 8 people crashing at Moonbug's house in Brockley on xmas-eve, of which 7 were Australians (more or less randomly). we'd eaten tofurkey and roast vegies and enjoyed a few drinks over the evening, then found places to sleep in advance of a mass-migration to SiJ's place in Woolwich the next day.
SiJ lives in an ex-council estate flat in a somewhat rough looking area, and while it looks like you'd pretty much expect an estate to look after watching a couple of seasons of The Bill, she's made it incredibly pleasant inside and somehow managed to squeeze 13 people in there for the day. this was impressive enough, but she'd also gone and cooked enough to feed most of us (other folk did the bring-and-share thing), as well as 5 different desserts to top it off. the table was covered in party poppers and streamers and place settings and when the food came it was completely fucking insane.
i should probably explain at this point that i was one of... um... 2 non-vegans in the room? i think the numbers were around there. as such all the food was vegan. not that this is a bad thing, and the food was awesome. Cam made a nutloaf-and-stuffing pie which was absurdly good, there was cous-cous, steamed carrots with soy sauce, stewed tomato and onions and roast vegies. we ate like vegan kings while i drank the beers i'd left out on the balcony to stay cold (who needs a fridge when it's 2degrees outside?).
it was a cruisy day all told. we got there at about 12:30 and commenced the time-honoured tradition of "bumming around". i retreated off into the spare room (the Groovy Chick Room, named because it had been painted lavendar and covered on Groovy Chick decals) at 2ish with my book for some timeout and curled up in a bed so soft it seemed to have been made from marshmallow clouds, stuffed into the thighs of virgins, whereupon i promptly passed out while the rest of the party took photos of me (something i didn't find out about until later and which didn't really bother me overly - at least i didn't wake up with my hand in a bowl of tepid water). after we finished stuffing outself full i surveyed the scene in the kitchen and since i hadn't actually contributed diddly-squat to the event apart from my empty stomach, i decided to start washing the dishes. there were a lot of them. i think i'd been going for the best part of an hour with various people drying up as i went before i was kicked out and ordered to eat trifle, after which i came back and kept at it. try running xmas lunch/dinner for 13 people with 8 or so dishes, with entre plates, mains plates, snack bowls, cups, glasses, mugs, cutlery, pots, pans, frying pans, serving dishes, serving trays and... well, you get the idea. the worst thing is that in two rounds i still didn't get through everything, but wasn't allowed to continue.
the tables were packed up by the time i came back into the main room - the TV had been switched to BBC-Whatever and i caught the end of the Queen's Xmas Message before the Dr Who Xmas Special played. Moonbug was particularly excited by this, and went on to gloat to various people around the world by SMS that she'd got to see it "live", so to speak. once this was done i checked my email and read my book while everyone else played party games. i have only the most minor interest in such things - i prefer to watch, generally. i wound up chatting on facebook for an hour or so until i noticed a book on the floor (not a book's natural habitat) called "A Million Little Pieces" by James Frey which advertised itself as an honest recounting of an ex-junkie's rehabilitation, so i picked that up and got through a hundred or so pages.
it was 4 in the morning before we got out of there, following a long and protracted discussion about who was crashing there, who was going back to Moonbug's place and how it was all to happen. by lucky circumstance there was a guy there with a car who was going more or less in the direction of my place, and so at a bit past 4:30 i hopped out on the side of Brixton Road near my house and wandered back to base and my cold, empty room.
louise was out - spending the 24th-26th with family, and i'd left a couple of hours after her so the room was as i'd left it. by 5AM i'd settled down and hit a deep, dreamless sleep.
1PM and i was awake and moving again... well, moving's such a relative term. i suppose i could have gone out and done something, instead i enjoyed having the room to myself for a while, alternating between watching episodes of Stargate Atlantis, playing games and reading my book. another great joy of being on my own is that i eat when i want, which is usually early. for this reason, i was on facebook again at 6ish to find a message from Laura. we've been chatting a fair bit of late. neither of us really knows a lot of people around and we've been playing mind-games via SMS and IM when we're bored. as such, many of our conversations are convoluted, but the gist of it went:
"What are you up to?"
nothing much. lying around, watching Stargate Atlantis. why do you ask?
"Wanna come over mine and watch a movie?"
i responded in a roundabout way that i would, got some directions, got dressed and an hour later i was knocking on her door out near Manor House. she's sharing with a couple in a modern, bright townhouse down the road from Greenlanes, 8 or 10 minutes walk from the tube. i was way fucking jealous - it's damn sight nicer than my place, and she has a queen-size bed in a room to herself - but then i didn't ask what she paid for the place either. with the housemates away for the time being, she has the run of the place and was baking Dutch cookies (which were delicious). come 3AM we were sitting on the couch having managed to not actually turn on the TV, but killed the hours chatting instead which i prefer and i was pondering how the hell i was going to get home, and which bus to catch.
"You can crash of you want."
you sure? that'd work really nicely - cheers. the couch feels pretty comfy.
"Well, you're not sleeping with me."
no worries there - couch is fine.
half an hour later i'd warmed up the blanket and i was lying there listening to the sound of... nothing. no flatmates having late night showers, no car noise, no sirens, no louise snoring, no Cam muttering... nothing. next thing i knew it was 1PM and Laura was standing in the doorway waking me up.
the rest of that day was completely and totally slothful and exceeded only in its laziness by how goddamned pleasant it was. we got through Run Fatboy Run and Mr & Mrs Smith before rotting our brains with House M.D. reruns on Sky, wishing death upon the advertising executives who decided to barrage us with the same ads for antacid, cold&flu remedies and mouth-ulcer ointment. oh, and whoever decided to make an ad consisting of 50 seconds of women screaming in agony to promote SIDS? fuck you, sir. fuck you right in the fucking mangina. i didn't need that and you may kindly burn in each circle of hades in turn.
in the end i set a timer to make sure that i got out the door by 11, in time to get the tube home, and at a little past midnight i wandered into the room with a burger and chips from Oval Kebab. i found out a little bit later that louise had messaged me while i was on the tube asking where i was. of course, if i'd really wanted her to know i would have told her or left a message, but no matter. i was back at base now and obviously in one piece so i left her to talk on Skype while i made my tea disappear.
"Where have you been?"
out.
"sorry I just was worried..."
i'm not sure why that would be.
i got on Skype so that i could return a call from Sandra that i'd had to cut short because my mobile's battery was near dead. it rang again at 4:50AM - Ondine calling to touch base and say hi. i was well and truly asleep, but it was good to touch base even if briefly.
today's been more of the same. lying around, playing around online, playing games, watching tv repeats, burning through my book with me and louise generally ignoring each other. tomorrow i'm back at work for the last 3 days of my contract, and i need to pay the rent. at this rate it looks like i'll be doing exactly that for NYE and i'm not so sure i care, but maybe something'll come up - who can say?
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
because you asked me politely...
i hadn't intended on writing tonight... in fact, it was far from being anywhere near the top of my list of things to do but the bathroom's busy which prevents me from a tidy wrist-slitting and i was asked nicely so i figured fuck it, strapped my headphones on and cranked some Fallout Boy for variety - i've had speed-metal on high rotation lately so it was time for a change. what i will do, however, is avoid talking about what's really worrying me at the monent and simply hope that when Lou wakes up with a hangover tomorrow she doesn't regret whoever she did or didn't do tonight.
i'm being pulled in too many different directions at the moment to make any sense - tired but not able to sleep regularly, depressed beyond tears but cheered mightily by a long chat on IM earlier this evening, employed for the moment but pay-day's a long way away, horny enough to climb the walls using my teeth and nails but... um... actually, there's no mitigation for that one. shit. i'm so far from my centre that my only hope at the moment is to spin faster and try to keep all the different forces balanced so i don't wobble myself off the table and smash on the tiles.
why is this? well, i've been doing a lot of soul-searching of late - i've spent enough time alone and undisturbed in the last week or so that there's been little else to distract me - and i've come up with a number of answers. the problem here is that now i know that there are people reading this thing it gets a little hard to work out how to say enough to give an impression without giving it all away. i don't keep a whole lot of secrets to myself, but right now there's shit floating around the septic-tank of my brain that you couldn't get out with a crowbar and a flame-thrower. this, also, can make it difficult to say anything of interest. instead, i've been spending a huge amount of my mental energy trying to run like fuckery from the monkey on my back because every time i turn and look behind me he smiles, waves, and bites another chunk of my face off. one thing's for sure, i've jumping at any and every distraction that stops me from putting forehead-shaped dents in the plaster.
one thing that hasn't been classified "Sex & Travel" (aka "Fuck Off") is that i can't shake the feeling that i've turned into a fucking doormat of late, greeting visitors with an invitation of "Welcome! Please use my nose to wipe that shit off your boots and remember to take some of my dignity as you leave!" maybe it's a desire to not rock the boat, i don't know, but somehow it feels like i've been letting a mate dump me with baby-sitting his kids, then asking if he'd like to borrow my girlfriend for the threeway she'd never agree to have with me while i do it. sure i get to enjoy the moral high-ground, but i'm still coming home to the smell of someone else's Old Spice and cold post-orgy pizza. i'm not sure how this happened - have i always had "thankyou, please come again" tattooed on my arse-cheeks or is this new? i'm pretty sure i wasn't always a whiny loser... no... wait, that's not true... i was just better paid back then and i had a bike i could escape on when i had to get the fuck out. my self-loathing's getting to the point that when i self-combust the smoking glass crater will stretch to Vauxhall - all i need to do is embrace the hatred then watch it all burn.
otherwise i can't complain... or at least i shouldn't. Moonbug's managed to score me an invite to entertainment for the 24th/25th, so i might actually be able to have something of and anti-xmas party after all... even if it's just me sitting outside with a grouchy look on my face while the rest of them eat tofurkey inside where it's warm. seriously though, the London Vegan/Animal Lib mob has invited me, an admitted omnivore, to join them for their version of an Xmas-orphans bash and i'm grateful for it. they're a good, friendly mob, and it means that i'll not drink alone for those days... although on New Year's Eve it's increasingly likely that i'll wind up sitting alone on the steps at Trafalgar Square drinking bad scotch out of a bottle in a brown paper bag while people who are in better moods step over and around me and i wish a plague upon them and their happy optimism. we'll see - something might come up. i might get hit by a bus and spend the evening in hospital instead. the world's looking brighter already!
last saturday i spent most of my waking hours talking to people - i must have been on Skype with Sandra for 2 hours, then another half an hour or so with my mum. Yunyu caught me on IM from Singapore late in the evening, after i'd already spoken to Simon who's in Perth. i spent a while talking to Laura in there somewhere, there were emails, and on Sunday morning my mobile rang with Shadow on the other end of it - the only good fucking thing that happened to me that day and no, i'm not kidding. it was nice though - reaching out through my dodgy broadband connection and touching with ethereal fingertips the well-missed voices of my old life and while i know full-well that it's not gone anywhere it's great to be reminded of it sometimes.
meanwhile, i've got myself a couple of new books to read so i'm going to do what i can to lose myself in them while other angry-young-men-who-say-fuck-a-lot whisper screams in my ear and i consider my options in the cold, sober light shining through an empty pint-glass while i try to remember what it was like when i was carved from granite and nothing could touch me so that i can get back to hardening the fuck up. odds are that my liver and i will survive the next week and the trail of destruction will be minor, but as with all things due to happen more than 5 seconds from right now we'll just have to see.
i'm being pulled in too many different directions at the moment to make any sense - tired but not able to sleep regularly, depressed beyond tears but cheered mightily by a long chat on IM earlier this evening, employed for the moment but pay-day's a long way away, horny enough to climb the walls using my teeth and nails but... um... actually, there's no mitigation for that one. shit. i'm so far from my centre that my only hope at the moment is to spin faster and try to keep all the different forces balanced so i don't wobble myself off the table and smash on the tiles.
why is this? well, i've been doing a lot of soul-searching of late - i've spent enough time alone and undisturbed in the last week or so that there's been little else to distract me - and i've come up with a number of answers. the problem here is that now i know that there are people reading this thing it gets a little hard to work out how to say enough to give an impression without giving it all away. i don't keep a whole lot of secrets to myself, but right now there's shit floating around the septic-tank of my brain that you couldn't get out with a crowbar and a flame-thrower. this, also, can make it difficult to say anything of interest. instead, i've been spending a huge amount of my mental energy trying to run like fuckery from the monkey on my back because every time i turn and look behind me he smiles, waves, and bites another chunk of my face off. one thing's for sure, i've jumping at any and every distraction that stops me from putting forehead-shaped dents in the plaster.
one thing that hasn't been classified "Sex & Travel" (aka "Fuck Off") is that i can't shake the feeling that i've turned into a fucking doormat of late, greeting visitors with an invitation of "Welcome! Please use my nose to wipe that shit off your boots and remember to take some of my dignity as you leave!" maybe it's a desire to not rock the boat, i don't know, but somehow it feels like i've been letting a mate dump me with baby-sitting his kids, then asking if he'd like to borrow my girlfriend for the threeway she'd never agree to have with me while i do it. sure i get to enjoy the moral high-ground, but i'm still coming home to the smell of someone else's Old Spice and cold post-orgy pizza. i'm not sure how this happened - have i always had "thankyou, please come again" tattooed on my arse-cheeks or is this new? i'm pretty sure i wasn't always a whiny loser... no... wait, that's not true... i was just better paid back then and i had a bike i could escape on when i had to get the fuck out. my self-loathing's getting to the point that when i self-combust the smoking glass crater will stretch to Vauxhall - all i need to do is embrace the hatred then watch it all burn.
otherwise i can't complain... or at least i shouldn't. Moonbug's managed to score me an invite to entertainment for the 24th/25th, so i might actually be able to have something of and anti-xmas party after all... even if it's just me sitting outside with a grouchy look on my face while the rest of them eat tofurkey inside where it's warm. seriously though, the London Vegan/Animal Lib mob has invited me, an admitted omnivore, to join them for their version of an Xmas-orphans bash and i'm grateful for it. they're a good, friendly mob, and it means that i'll not drink alone for those days... although on New Year's Eve it's increasingly likely that i'll wind up sitting alone on the steps at Trafalgar Square drinking bad scotch out of a bottle in a brown paper bag while people who are in better moods step over and around me and i wish a plague upon them and their happy optimism. we'll see - something might come up. i might get hit by a bus and spend the evening in hospital instead. the world's looking brighter already!
last saturday i spent most of my waking hours talking to people - i must have been on Skype with Sandra for 2 hours, then another half an hour or so with my mum. Yunyu caught me on IM from Singapore late in the evening, after i'd already spoken to Simon who's in Perth. i spent a while talking to Laura in there somewhere, there were emails, and on Sunday morning my mobile rang with Shadow on the other end of it - the only good fucking thing that happened to me that day and no, i'm not kidding. it was nice though - reaching out through my dodgy broadband connection and touching with ethereal fingertips the well-missed voices of my old life and while i know full-well that it's not gone anywhere it's great to be reminded of it sometimes.
meanwhile, i've got myself a couple of new books to read so i'm going to do what i can to lose myself in them while other angry-young-men-who-say-fuck-a-lot whisper screams in my ear and i consider my options in the cold, sober light shining through an empty pint-glass while i try to remember what it was like when i was carved from granite and nothing could touch me so that i can get back to hardening the fuck up. odds are that my liver and i will survive the next week and the trail of destruction will be minor, but as with all things due to happen more than 5 seconds from right now we'll just have to see.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
you know know this won't be perfect, even when it's feeling right...
by the time i staggered in the door i was destroyed, demolished and drained. Lou was already in bed doing her guppy impersonation - lying back with her mouth open- the song on my PSD was on its 9th repitition and the clothes i'd put on over 17 hours ago felt like they were hanging off me, as if i'd somehow shrunk over the course of the day and could no longer fill them. my head was full of beers and distant thoughts as i tripped towards my bed and got undressed, hanging my work-gear in the cupboard so that the creases could fall out over the weekend. i changed into an old pair of tracksuit pants and a tshirt and felt no better for it, the drawstring was the only thing holding the pants over my hips, the shirt feeling two sizes too big, the song coming through my earphones on its 10th time past. i headed down to the kitchen and got a drink of water before slumping into a chair while it played through to number 11. eventually i headed upstairs and fell into bed, staring at the wall in the diffused light of my bedside lamp.
i'd spent an hour sitting in Piccadilly Circus drunkenly talking philosophy with Laura, the Canadian. we'd left the pub and wandered semi-aimlessly through the amusement-park currently in Leicester Square after i'd decided that it was time to leave lest i drink any more. i needed to sober up before i lost all coherence and possibly said something i'd rather not, and we wound up sitting on the some steps overlooking the madness of people coming and going and taking photos, the manic exuberance of people out on the town on a Friday night while we exchanged stories. somehow i'd started discussing my view of the world while she picked holes in it, keeping me on my toes. earlier in the evening we'd tested our abilities at profiling by explaining how the other had come to be the way they were and seemed surprisingly accurate, and this spurred an explaination which went on longer than i'd anticipated but which was none-the-less entertaining. come midnight she made her move, catching the tube home and i walked down to my usual bus stop past Trafalgar Square, turning my PSD on and starting the song by Inhale Exhale that had become stuck in my head the night before, feeling satisfied but somewhat depressed.
Lou took her leave at the pub, pissed as a fart, but fizzing with happy energy having organised a date for Sunday. Laura had showed up well after the three of us had got established with a table and some chairs, and i switched seats with Lou because she and Daniel were talking loudly and excitedly, leaving Laura out of the conversation. dividing the four of us into two pairs, Laura and i watched them as they moved closer and closer over the course of a bottle of wine, their body-language screaming of potential while we sunk pints and critiqued. i explained how i'd set the wheels in motion with a couple of choice comments here and there earlier in the evening and then left them to themselves and we chatted and watched them in our peripheral vision, running a constant commentary while they flirted, keeping each other appraised as to their progress since subtlety robbed us both of a decent view. she asked why i'd set this up and i explained that Lou needed to have some fun, so i'd kicked them off when i saw that they were attracted although i knew that i'd wear it from her later. we tried to predict the outcome while they danced around each other and i used the analogy that in particle physics you can either know the location of a particle or its direction, not both at once - a simplication of Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle. she argued this, more because she felt that it was required than because she disagreed, accusing me of having an unhealthy interest in semi-irrelevant minutia. me, i was of the opinion that it was the perfect way to describe our observations of what was happening on the other side of the table. as the bottle neared its end Lou and Dan disappeared for the toilets in a suspicious fashion, whereupon i attempted, in an increasingly drunken state to explain Schrodinger's Paradox, that while the situation is not observed it exists in a state of neither zero nor one, but that the observation of said inadvertantly changes its state from indefinite to definite. by request, i changed the cat to a rat, but pushed the point. Daniel reappeared shortly thereafter, and when he sat back down i said to him:
Schrodinger's cat is dead.
he replied after a pause, saying "Schrodinger's cat is alive!" and i gave him a high-five while Laura looked confused. Lou reappeared and proved his position by kissing him, and i turned to Laura looking more than slightly smug. Daniel left shortly thereafter to meet up with some people at Ministry of Sound and when i got back from the toilet Lou was in full form - a wingman with an itchy trigger, explaining at great length how Laura should sleep with me because i was desperate and apparently deserving of a sympathy fuck. i sat back and watched while this went on, generally feeling uncomfortable, and Lou finished her drink and announced that she was heading home, seemingly of the idea that if she left us to it we'd get on in the same way she and Daniel had. i tried to disuade her, saying that if she waited a minute or 5 i'd finish my drink and accompany with her but she was adamant and bolted for the door. Laura asked if i wanted to follow, but Lou knew at least 2 ways home so i figured she'd be fine. she obviously thought she was doing me a favour and i wasn't in the mood to deal with her any more - my patience had finally worn thin. Laura turned to me and said
"I see what you mean about you wearing it..."
Daniel and i had arrived at the pub after finishing up our afternoon of job-hunting at Bite. i'd organised an after-work drinks meetup on the Facebook group in the Bear & Staff downstairs, with the promise that i'd go a round for whoever was there when i showed up, starting at 6PM. getting there a little before 5 meant that my round consisted of me and Daniel. cunning plan, or selfish subterfuge? regardless, he was feeling a bit sick so i got him a Guinness citing the health benefits and after loitering around we managed to score a table before finding out that we couldn't get any food downstairs and headed up for the dining area where we ate fish and chips and discussed Australian politics for an hour before heading downstairs, running into Lou as she arrived. a pint of Guinness and a plate of great fish and chips had perked him up and out of his flu. we miraculously found a table without trying this time, and while Lou went off to get a drink i explained to Daniel briefly that she was still pining over her ex, but looking for distraction. we sat, sinking drinks and chatting until Laura found us, grabbing a beer and taking the seat next to Lou, opposite Daniel.
i knocked off work at 1:30, as instructed. i've taken a temp role providing IT support for a small Islamic Investment Bank during the xmas-holidays, but they only wanted me there from 8:30AM until 1:30. having nothing better to do and no desire to head home before being at the pub by 6, i headed into Leicester Square so that i could kill the rest of the day updating my CV and applying for a few more jobs. Daniel was already there - a British/Australian lad i'd met a week or so beforehand who, like i, had grown up in Perth. i'd shown him around a little and we were getting along nicely so on Tuesday i'd suggested that we grab some beers at the pub on Friday. i published my plans on the Facebook group i've been meeting up with since i'd promised to organise an event or two. there was very little happening on the job boards, so not long before 5 we headed down and grabbed a couple of pints. he had to head off to get to a gig at Ministry of Sound at 9:30, but we had plenty of time for a few drinks beforehand. Lou was due to meet us up at 6, with the likelihood of some of the Facebook crowd showing up as well, so we stood around near the bar and waited for someone to vacate a table...
i'd spent an hour sitting in Piccadilly Circus drunkenly talking philosophy with Laura, the Canadian. we'd left the pub and wandered semi-aimlessly through the amusement-park currently in Leicester Square after i'd decided that it was time to leave lest i drink any more. i needed to sober up before i lost all coherence and possibly said something i'd rather not, and we wound up sitting on the some steps overlooking the madness of people coming and going and taking photos, the manic exuberance of people out on the town on a Friday night while we exchanged stories. somehow i'd started discussing my view of the world while she picked holes in it, keeping me on my toes. earlier in the evening we'd tested our abilities at profiling by explaining how the other had come to be the way they were and seemed surprisingly accurate, and this spurred an explaination which went on longer than i'd anticipated but which was none-the-less entertaining. come midnight she made her move, catching the tube home and i walked down to my usual bus stop past Trafalgar Square, turning my PSD on and starting the song by Inhale Exhale that had become stuck in my head the night before, feeling satisfied but somewhat depressed.
Lou took her leave at the pub, pissed as a fart, but fizzing with happy energy having organised a date for Sunday. Laura had showed up well after the three of us had got established with a table and some chairs, and i switched seats with Lou because she and Daniel were talking loudly and excitedly, leaving Laura out of the conversation. dividing the four of us into two pairs, Laura and i watched them as they moved closer and closer over the course of a bottle of wine, their body-language screaming of potential while we sunk pints and critiqued. i explained how i'd set the wheels in motion with a couple of choice comments here and there earlier in the evening and then left them to themselves and we chatted and watched them in our peripheral vision, running a constant commentary while they flirted, keeping each other appraised as to their progress since subtlety robbed us both of a decent view. she asked why i'd set this up and i explained that Lou needed to have some fun, so i'd kicked them off when i saw that they were attracted although i knew that i'd wear it from her later. we tried to predict the outcome while they danced around each other and i used the analogy that in particle physics you can either know the location of a particle or its direction, not both at once - a simplication of Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle. she argued this, more because she felt that it was required than because she disagreed, accusing me of having an unhealthy interest in semi-irrelevant minutia. me, i was of the opinion that it was the perfect way to describe our observations of what was happening on the other side of the table. as the bottle neared its end Lou and Dan disappeared for the toilets in a suspicious fashion, whereupon i attempted, in an increasingly drunken state to explain Schrodinger's Paradox, that while the situation is not observed it exists in a state of neither zero nor one, but that the observation of said inadvertantly changes its state from indefinite to definite. by request, i changed the cat to a rat, but pushed the point. Daniel reappeared shortly thereafter, and when he sat back down i said to him:
Schrodinger's cat is dead.
he replied after a pause, saying "Schrodinger's cat is alive!" and i gave him a high-five while Laura looked confused. Lou reappeared and proved his position by kissing him, and i turned to Laura looking more than slightly smug. Daniel left shortly thereafter to meet up with some people at Ministry of Sound and when i got back from the toilet Lou was in full form - a wingman with an itchy trigger, explaining at great length how Laura should sleep with me because i was desperate and apparently deserving of a sympathy fuck. i sat back and watched while this went on, generally feeling uncomfortable, and Lou finished her drink and announced that she was heading home, seemingly of the idea that if she left us to it we'd get on in the same way she and Daniel had. i tried to disuade her, saying that if she waited a minute or 5 i'd finish my drink and accompany with her but she was adamant and bolted for the door. Laura asked if i wanted to follow, but Lou knew at least 2 ways home so i figured she'd be fine. she obviously thought she was doing me a favour and i wasn't in the mood to deal with her any more - my patience had finally worn thin. Laura turned to me and said
"I see what you mean about you wearing it..."
Daniel and i had arrived at the pub after finishing up our afternoon of job-hunting at Bite. i'd organised an after-work drinks meetup on the Facebook group in the Bear & Staff downstairs, with the promise that i'd go a round for whoever was there when i showed up, starting at 6PM. getting there a little before 5 meant that my round consisted of me and Daniel. cunning plan, or selfish subterfuge? regardless, he was feeling a bit sick so i got him a Guinness citing the health benefits and after loitering around we managed to score a table before finding out that we couldn't get any food downstairs and headed up for the dining area where we ate fish and chips and discussed Australian politics for an hour before heading downstairs, running into Lou as she arrived. a pint of Guinness and a plate of great fish and chips had perked him up and out of his flu. we miraculously found a table without trying this time, and while Lou went off to get a drink i explained to Daniel briefly that she was still pining over her ex, but looking for distraction. we sat, sinking drinks and chatting until Laura found us, grabbing a beer and taking the seat next to Lou, opposite Daniel.
i knocked off work at 1:30, as instructed. i've taken a temp role providing IT support for a small Islamic Investment Bank during the xmas-holidays, but they only wanted me there from 8:30AM until 1:30. having nothing better to do and no desire to head home before being at the pub by 6, i headed into Leicester Square so that i could kill the rest of the day updating my CV and applying for a few more jobs. Daniel was already there - a British/Australian lad i'd met a week or so beforehand who, like i, had grown up in Perth. i'd shown him around a little and we were getting along nicely so on Tuesday i'd suggested that we grab some beers at the pub on Friday. i published my plans on the Facebook group i've been meeting up with since i'd promised to organise an event or two. there was very little happening on the job boards, so not long before 5 we headed down and grabbed a couple of pints. he had to head off to get to a gig at Ministry of Sound at 9:30, but we had plenty of time for a few drinks beforehand. Lou was due to meet us up at 6, with the likelihood of some of the Facebook crowd showing up as well, so we stood around near the bar and waited for someone to vacate a table...
Friday, December 19, 2008
back in the game...
i stepped out into the cold light of morning this morning dressed rather unusually... for me, anyway. dress shoes hit the pavement as i walked to the Tube station, pinstriped trousers brushing my legs, tie hanging over one of my nicer shirts while my coat fluttered in the breeze, keeping the cold at bay. it was 8AM and i was on my way to work - my second First Day in two days. yesterday i was headed off to a freelance assignment to spend a day working for Moet Hennesey Louis Vuitton - something of a prestige client. by the time i got home i was exhausted - it was fairly simple desktop-support work, moving and installing equipment around one of their London design studios. today i was on my way to a bank.
this seems to be one of those things you do in London - the financial district (situated around Bank Tube station which is named for the Bank of England located opposite) is huge. the big names operate out of this area - HSBC, NatWest and so on, and so do many of the other global financial powerhouses. when Lehman Bros shed its staff, it's the east-end that was awash with unemployed Hedge Fund Managers trying to offload their Aston Martins, handing out business cards in the streets in the desperate hope of finding a new source of income before their Margin Calls came in.
the offices are... impressive. an enormous foyer greets you when you walk up the steps and in the door - all marble, pillars and hardwoods, open and empty and austere. the offices, on the other hand are modern, if quiet. my job here is to Keep An Eye On Things while the two local staff are away. this means running the daily checklist, then sitting and Being Available should anything fall over. bearing in mind the lack of activity going on i'm expecting this to be somewhat unlikely. still, it's a job and it's paying good money for the 6 half-days i've been employed to cover between now and the end of the year.
if you're wondering where this came from, and why there was no excited "i've got me a job" posting, it's because i only got these two little roles on Wednesday. the consulting company i've been operating from got the call and pretty much asked me when i walked in the door whether i could cover, the answer to which was, of course, "hells yes!" it's not like i've got anything better to do, and they cash that'll come in from 7 days of work will keep me fed and the rent paid for 2 months at my current rate of expenditure. of course, i'll probably go and spend a bit of it on some new work-clothes, and maybe some retail therapy, but hey: it's keeping occupied, and my skills current.
one thing i've noticed in the last month or so is how much my brain's been shutting down. i don't need to use most of it for day-to-day life. keeping my laptops running doesn't exactly cause a lot of mental stress, and the rest of the time i've been chilling out, reading, watching movies, playing games. forcing myself to think and act professionally again is like powering up the mainframe after a shutdown. lights flash, drives hum, systems that have lain dormant come back to life and run their self-checks. i've been feeling my skills atrophying and it's great to give them a bit of a workout. also of the good is that now i've got some UK work on my CV it's going to find the next role easier to get. having a bank at the top of the list will open the doors i'd expected to stay closed to me, and having the afternoons off will mean that i don't have to curtail my job-search at all, and tonight i'll be sitting around a pub in Leicester Square sinking beers with an air of self-satisfaction, enjoying the fact that i do look rather presentable.
the only downside i can see at the moment is that i need to be here at 8:30AM. i shouldn't complain too much - it's a really quick tube ride in to work, then i can catch the bus home in the afternoon to conserve a little cash. i needed to get in this habit anyway and it's always been a hard one to maintain. i'm not, by nature, a morning person. most of my friends over the years have had to forgive me for my inability to be anywhere before 10. i'm fortunate in that Lou's far better at mornings than i am, and entirely willing to kick me if i'm not up and moving, thus preventing me from rolling over and hitting the snooze button. i now have 4 different alarms at my disposal too - my phone, a vibrating watch which i've strapped to my bed frame and makes the entire thing buzz, and my laptops which i've set to start playing music. when i set these off in a cascade it's pretty difficult to turn them all off and not wake up, although i know from experience that i've done so a few times in the last few weeks.
regardless of all that, i'm in work. i'm earning (quite good) cash, and the world is looking brighter... even as the days grow shorter and colder. no matter - i have this nice warm coat to wear : )
this seems to be one of those things you do in London - the financial district (situated around Bank Tube station which is named for the Bank of England located opposite) is huge. the big names operate out of this area - HSBC, NatWest and so on, and so do many of the other global financial powerhouses. when Lehman Bros shed its staff, it's the east-end that was awash with unemployed Hedge Fund Managers trying to offload their Aston Martins, handing out business cards in the streets in the desperate hope of finding a new source of income before their Margin Calls came in.
the offices are... impressive. an enormous foyer greets you when you walk up the steps and in the door - all marble, pillars and hardwoods, open and empty and austere. the offices, on the other hand are modern, if quiet. my job here is to Keep An Eye On Things while the two local staff are away. this means running the daily checklist, then sitting and Being Available should anything fall over. bearing in mind the lack of activity going on i'm expecting this to be somewhat unlikely. still, it's a job and it's paying good money for the 6 half-days i've been employed to cover between now and the end of the year.
if you're wondering where this came from, and why there was no excited "i've got me a job" posting, it's because i only got these two little roles on Wednesday. the consulting company i've been operating from got the call and pretty much asked me when i walked in the door whether i could cover, the answer to which was, of course, "hells yes!" it's not like i've got anything better to do, and they cash that'll come in from 7 days of work will keep me fed and the rent paid for 2 months at my current rate of expenditure. of course, i'll probably go and spend a bit of it on some new work-clothes, and maybe some retail therapy, but hey: it's keeping occupied, and my skills current.
one thing i've noticed in the last month or so is how much my brain's been shutting down. i don't need to use most of it for day-to-day life. keeping my laptops running doesn't exactly cause a lot of mental stress, and the rest of the time i've been chilling out, reading, watching movies, playing games. forcing myself to think and act professionally again is like powering up the mainframe after a shutdown. lights flash, drives hum, systems that have lain dormant come back to life and run their self-checks. i've been feeling my skills atrophying and it's great to give them a bit of a workout. also of the good is that now i've got some UK work on my CV it's going to find the next role easier to get. having a bank at the top of the list will open the doors i'd expected to stay closed to me, and having the afternoons off will mean that i don't have to curtail my job-search at all, and tonight i'll be sitting around a pub in Leicester Square sinking beers with an air of self-satisfaction, enjoying the fact that i do look rather presentable.
the only downside i can see at the moment is that i need to be here at 8:30AM. i shouldn't complain too much - it's a really quick tube ride in to work, then i can catch the bus home in the afternoon to conserve a little cash. i needed to get in this habit anyway and it's always been a hard one to maintain. i'm not, by nature, a morning person. most of my friends over the years have had to forgive me for my inability to be anywhere before 10. i'm fortunate in that Lou's far better at mornings than i am, and entirely willing to kick me if i'm not up and moving, thus preventing me from rolling over and hitting the snooze button. i now have 4 different alarms at my disposal too - my phone, a vibrating watch which i've strapped to my bed frame and makes the entire thing buzz, and my laptops which i've set to start playing music. when i set these off in a cascade it's pretty difficult to turn them all off and not wake up, although i know from experience that i've done so a few times in the last few weeks.
regardless of all that, i'm in work. i'm earning (quite good) cash, and the world is looking brighter... even as the days grow shorter and colder. no matter - i have this nice warm coat to wear : )
Monday, December 15, 2008
plans for the holidays
saturday was quiet, for the most part. we were booked in for drinks and nibbles at Lisa's place and as happened the last time we headed down to Brockley, it was raining and the place was full of pretty gay boys. they're a fairly charming lot, and their parties seem to be high on the "fabulous". we sat, we chatted, we drank, we went home. a mixture of beer and vodka sat with me none-so-well and i spent most of the trip staring out the window or into the puddles in the gutter in with a bit of a cloud over my head... that is, apart from the clouds that were happily raining down on me. an email received when i got home brightened my spirits somewhat, but my mood rebounded off the vodka-haze and i didn't reply until this morning when the smile came back.
on tuesday i have another job interview, finally. i'm not allowing myself to get too excited about it all, but even getting an interview at the moment is a great sign. hopefully there'll be word from a couple of other roles i've been put down for tomorrow, so maybe the week won't be a total wash-out.
next weekend i think i'll try to organise something with Adnan's Facebook group. he's away at the moment, and i know that Jess is away, but Laura and Jeff should be around so we'll see if we can get something going. as the days march closer to Xmas the need to socialise grows. the holidays are just days like any other, but i still feel the need to have something resembling a party and people around.
amusingly, it makes me cast my mind back to one of my favourite xmas-days. Matt and i had the RPM house to ourselves. amanda had left me a couple of months prior and had moved out, Benzio was up in Berry with his folks and April (i think she was still in the house at this point) was in Perth, so there was no one else around. we had a quiet xmas-day planned with some movies and video games, right up until we both got a stomach-bug which left is dehydrated and unable to take food or drink, with the summer heat and the squirts ensuring that we were dehydrated and wrecked for days. we were both sick as sick, lying around and feeling sorry for ourselves, vaguely wondering whether we'd survive but... well, we had each other there to share our torment. i remember that we managed to get ourselves on our feet and in the car so that we could head to the O'Connor Pharmacy and get some rehydration salts. getting there and back took just about all the strength we had left and the drink the salts made tasted terrible but we got them down, one sip at a time. still, through depression and dehydration we got through the days that followed and despite it all, whenever i think back on that week i smile a little. maybe just because it's one xmas i'll never forget, maybe because we kept each other going and got each other through.
xmas just seems to be a time to spend with people. this year i'm spending it with a bunch of Lisa's vegan and animal-lib friends which should be entertaining. new year's eve, on the other hand, that's something i still need to stitch up. i should get onto that... it's ok - i've got some ideas...
on tuesday i have another job interview, finally. i'm not allowing myself to get too excited about it all, but even getting an interview at the moment is a great sign. hopefully there'll be word from a couple of other roles i've been put down for tomorrow, so maybe the week won't be a total wash-out.
next weekend i think i'll try to organise something with Adnan's Facebook group. he's away at the moment, and i know that Jess is away, but Laura and Jeff should be around so we'll see if we can get something going. as the days march closer to Xmas the need to socialise grows. the holidays are just days like any other, but i still feel the need to have something resembling a party and people around.
amusingly, it makes me cast my mind back to one of my favourite xmas-days. Matt and i had the RPM house to ourselves. amanda had left me a couple of months prior and had moved out, Benzio was up in Berry with his folks and April (i think she was still in the house at this point) was in Perth, so there was no one else around. we had a quiet xmas-day planned with some movies and video games, right up until we both got a stomach-bug which left is dehydrated and unable to take food or drink, with the summer heat and the squirts ensuring that we were dehydrated and wrecked for days. we were both sick as sick, lying around and feeling sorry for ourselves, vaguely wondering whether we'd survive but... well, we had each other there to share our torment. i remember that we managed to get ourselves on our feet and in the car so that we could head to the O'Connor Pharmacy and get some rehydration salts. getting there and back took just about all the strength we had left and the drink the salts made tasted terrible but we got them down, one sip at a time. still, through depression and dehydration we got through the days that followed and despite it all, whenever i think back on that week i smile a little. maybe just because it's one xmas i'll never forget, maybe because we kept each other going and got each other through.
xmas just seems to be a time to spend with people. this year i'm spending it with a bunch of Lisa's vegan and animal-lib friends which should be entertaining. new year's eve, on the other hand, that's something i still need to stitch up. i should get onto that... it's ok - i've got some ideas...
Sunday, December 14, 2008
serendipity (take the opportunity)....
it was 6:18PM and i was sitting in The Roundhouse, a classic-style pub in Covent Garden with Lou and her aunt and uncle, when my phone beeped with a message. "I have tickets for Apocalyptica tonight near Tottenham Court Road at 8," it said, "I've messaged a couple of people so get back to me quick if you want to come."
Fuck yeah! i replied, i love those guys! i'm in Covent Garden already so i can get there easy. i don't have a lot of cash but i can square you later. and... um... who is this?
the suspense wasn't killing me as such, but i WAS curious. ten minutes went by, fifteen, twenty, no reply. i didn't recognise the number, so i decided to step outside and burn some of my precious credit to try the number.
ring... ring "Hello, this is Laura. Please leave a...", and i hung up. Laura was the canadian girl i met last weekend. that explained THAT mystery. i went back into the pub, saving the number as i went and explained what was going on when i got back to our seats, apologising that i was going to take another offer for the evening. we decided to try a change of scenery, winding up at the Bear & Staff in Leicester Square by which time i had more of a plan. Laura had to head home to pick up the ticket (she only had one, but we'd sort the rest out later), then we'd meet at Tottenham Court Road tube station. i took my leave at 7:30 and legged it up Charing Cross Road, whistling as i went.
Apocalyptica are a Finnish Cello Quartet who prefer playing metal to classical music. i got into them years ago thanks to AB and had been quietly enjoying their work ever since. as i neared TCR i started checking the signage on the variouis theatres. there was a queue of metalheads outside The Astoria, the billboard proclaiming "Apocalyptica and Special Guests. i'd found the place at least. standing out the front was a portly man who looked business, with a couple of tickets in hand. i asked if he was selling, and he was. 1 was all i wanted and the price would be £25. the ticket price was £15. ouch. still, he offered to hold one for me to which i replied that if i missed out i missed out and on i went to get some cash out in case the ticket situation was as advertised.
i found myself a spot inside the tube station with a good view of the escalators and proceeded to wait until Laura appeared, walking with a slight limp. she explained that she'd rolled her ankle earlier that day, but was ok to get around so we headed back to the theatre and i made my transaction with the scalper.
inside i was stopped by a couple of large, tough-looking bouncers and told that i had to be searched. riiiighto, i though, but i stood, put my arms out to the sides and was given a thorough pat-down. wallet and camera i explained when he grabbed the lumps in my hoodie pockets. this seemed to satisfy him and i was allowed on my way. inside it was packed - we were a little late getting in and the support act was just finishing off so we took up station in front of the bar where we'd have something to lean on and managed some conversation over the noise of the crowd while the support act got their gear off the stage. basic sort of stuff - how's your week been? i didn't realise you were into metal... how did the rest of your night go last weekend?
shortly afterwards the band was heralded onto the stage by the screams of hundreds of adoring fans. they came out carrying their cellos to where 4 skull-motif chairs were sitting and went about their business of rocking the house. i was amazed - the mosh pit was remarkably well-behaved while the band belted out song after song and generally had a ball. this was the last show of their 176-show tour, they explained, but they were still really excited to be here. you bet they are, i thought, after tonight you get to go home... still, they played, and the crowd cheered. Laura nicked my camera on and off through the show. her hands were steadier than mine so she was able to get some great, clear shots at high-zoom. me, i was more than happy to let her go nuts. she seemed to be enjoying herself which was good, since i hadn't really picked her as being massively into heavier music. seriously though - what's not to like about a tall blonde finnish bloke swinging his long hair around metal-style while going nuts on a cello, then proclaiming that "We're just four shy finnish boys so we hides behind out hairs"? Apocalyptica is a unique phenomenon and for completely different reasons i, too, was really really pleased to be there.
shenanigans, hijinks, drumsticks being thrown into the crowd, two of the band-members ripping their shirts off or open for the "many beautiful ladies here tonight", they played the two songs that i always think of as being their signature tracks - One by Metallica and In The Hall Of The Mountain King. coats collected, we emerged into the fresh, brisk London air with grins on out faces.
thanks so much for inviting me along tonight - that was awesome!
"Totally! I messaged Jeff as well but I was really hoping you'd get back to me first... I mean, I'm sure he'd have enjoyed it, but I had the feeling this was way more your thing."
well, you were right. well done!
now this was interesting, i though. i'd had the sneaking suspiscion that the two of them had hit it off nicely at dinner the previous weekend. i'd questioned her about it earlier when she mentioned that they'd met up during the week. "Just as friends!" she'd defended. hmm... not that i was going to complain - i got to see Apocalyptica. my first gig in London. i KNEW this place would be great for concerts... next time i need to be more organised. now at least i have someone to drag along who i know won't mind some of the heavier stuff.
i suggested food since it was now nearly 11PM and i hadn't eaten all day, but her ankle was sore and she really needed to get home and take the weight off it. i'd originally intended to walk, at least as far as Trafalgar Square where i could get my regular bus but i decided that i couldn't be bothered so we headed down to the tube and went our separate ways from there.
the train terminated at Kennington - 5 or 10 minutes from home, so i was back on the windy street and headed for the local kebab shop. when i walked into the room Lou had only just gotten home after more drinks and dinner, so i explained the evening while wolfing down a burger and chips (with garlic sauce - Oval Kebab rocks...). i fell asleep some time later, listening to Lou shift in her sleep, letting loose the occasional half-snore while the sound of traffic filtered through the wall and the screams of the crowd faded in my ears...
Fuck yeah! i replied, i love those guys! i'm in Covent Garden already so i can get there easy. i don't have a lot of cash but i can square you later. and... um... who is this?
the suspense wasn't killing me as such, but i WAS curious. ten minutes went by, fifteen, twenty, no reply. i didn't recognise the number, so i decided to step outside and burn some of my precious credit to try the number.
ring... ring "Hello, this is Laura. Please leave a...", and i hung up. Laura was the canadian girl i met last weekend. that explained THAT mystery. i went back into the pub, saving the number as i went and explained what was going on when i got back to our seats, apologising that i was going to take another offer for the evening. we decided to try a change of scenery, winding up at the Bear & Staff in Leicester Square by which time i had more of a plan. Laura had to head home to pick up the ticket (she only had one, but we'd sort the rest out later), then we'd meet at Tottenham Court Road tube station. i took my leave at 7:30 and legged it up Charing Cross Road, whistling as i went.
Apocalyptica are a Finnish Cello Quartet who prefer playing metal to classical music. i got into them years ago thanks to AB and had been quietly enjoying their work ever since. as i neared TCR i started checking the signage on the variouis theatres. there was a queue of metalheads outside The Astoria, the billboard proclaiming "Apocalyptica and Special Guests. i'd found the place at least. standing out the front was a portly man who looked business, with a couple of tickets in hand. i asked if he was selling, and he was. 1 was all i wanted and the price would be £25. the ticket price was £15. ouch. still, he offered to hold one for me to which i replied that if i missed out i missed out and on i went to get some cash out in case the ticket situation was as advertised.
i found myself a spot inside the tube station with a good view of the escalators and proceeded to wait until Laura appeared, walking with a slight limp. she explained that she'd rolled her ankle earlier that day, but was ok to get around so we headed back to the theatre and i made my transaction with the scalper.
inside i was stopped by a couple of large, tough-looking bouncers and told that i had to be searched. riiiighto, i though, but i stood, put my arms out to the sides and was given a thorough pat-down. wallet and camera i explained when he grabbed the lumps in my hoodie pockets. this seemed to satisfy him and i was allowed on my way. inside it was packed - we were a little late getting in and the support act was just finishing off so we took up station in front of the bar where we'd have something to lean on and managed some conversation over the noise of the crowd while the support act got their gear off the stage. basic sort of stuff - how's your week been? i didn't realise you were into metal... how did the rest of your night go last weekend?
shortly afterwards the band was heralded onto the stage by the screams of hundreds of adoring fans. they came out carrying their cellos to where 4 skull-motif chairs were sitting and went about their business of rocking the house. i was amazed - the mosh pit was remarkably well-behaved while the band belted out song after song and generally had a ball. this was the last show of their 176-show tour, they explained, but they were still really excited to be here. you bet they are, i thought, after tonight you get to go home... still, they played, and the crowd cheered. Laura nicked my camera on and off through the show. her hands were steadier than mine so she was able to get some great, clear shots at high-zoom. me, i was more than happy to let her go nuts. she seemed to be enjoying herself which was good, since i hadn't really picked her as being massively into heavier music. seriously though - what's not to like about a tall blonde finnish bloke swinging his long hair around metal-style while going nuts on a cello, then proclaiming that "We're just four shy finnish boys so we hides behind out hairs"? Apocalyptica is a unique phenomenon and for completely different reasons i, too, was really really pleased to be there.
shenanigans, hijinks, drumsticks being thrown into the crowd, two of the band-members ripping their shirts off or open for the "many beautiful ladies here tonight", they played the two songs that i always think of as being their signature tracks - One by Metallica and In The Hall Of The Mountain King. coats collected, we emerged into the fresh, brisk London air with grins on out faces.
thanks so much for inviting me along tonight - that was awesome!
"Totally! I messaged Jeff as well but I was really hoping you'd get back to me first... I mean, I'm sure he'd have enjoyed it, but I had the feeling this was way more your thing."
well, you were right. well done!
now this was interesting, i though. i'd had the sneaking suspiscion that the two of them had hit it off nicely at dinner the previous weekend. i'd questioned her about it earlier when she mentioned that they'd met up during the week. "Just as friends!" she'd defended. hmm... not that i was going to complain - i got to see Apocalyptica. my first gig in London. i KNEW this place would be great for concerts... next time i need to be more organised. now at least i have someone to drag along who i know won't mind some of the heavier stuff.
i suggested food since it was now nearly 11PM and i hadn't eaten all day, but her ankle was sore and she really needed to get home and take the weight off it. i'd originally intended to walk, at least as far as Trafalgar Square where i could get my regular bus but i decided that i couldn't be bothered so we headed down to the tube and went our separate ways from there.
the train terminated at Kennington - 5 or 10 minutes from home, so i was back on the windy street and headed for the local kebab shop. when i walked into the room Lou had only just gotten home after more drinks and dinner, so i explained the evening while wolfing down a burger and chips (with garlic sauce - Oval Kebab rocks...). i fell asleep some time later, listening to Lou shift in her sleep, letting loose the occasional half-snore while the sound of traffic filtered through the wall and the screams of the crowd faded in my ears...
Monday, December 8, 2008
find your groove...
a red-painted rail separates hundreds of people every couple of minutes walking in opposite directions down the tunnel 20 or so metres below street-level between the Northern and Central lines at Tottenham Court Road station. amongst them i'm nobody. a man in a black coat in a sea of muted colours enjoying the anonymity. move with the flow, follow the tunnel right and down again to the westbound line and wait for the next train to come, heralded by the signature breeze that flows past and around the people waiting up and down the long platform. it's less than three minutes away, and there'll be another one a minute or two later. none of this really registers anymore. it's all become routine.
i left the house 20 minutes beforehand. get dressed after having a shower, layer after layer to keep me warm through the night. singlet, long-sleaved shirt, hoodie, trousers, heavy boots, black coat. my hat tops it off and i check myself in the mirror on the other side of the bed. wallet loaded, accessories stowed in their usual pockets, shoulder bag slung and i'm out the door, down the stairs and on the street. i'm at the tube station 30 seconds later. on my right are the terminals where you can top up your Oyster Card. i feed the machine 20 quid to keep me covered for the next week or two, head through the gate and down the escalator to the platform. i've stowed a book in my shoulder-bag, so i pull it out and begin to read while leaning against the wall. i barely look up to get on the train and i don't bother getting comfortable because i'm off again at Kennington - the next stop. crossing through the short corridor separating platforms, there's another train waiting to take me up the Charing Cross branch of the Northern Line, where i get off at Tottenham Court Road station and follow the maze across to the Central Line, the dripping blood picture on the big white book earning the occasional glance from passers-by. The Used is playing on my Portable Sanity Device, keeping me paraxodically calm. no worries, no fuss, no paranoid inspection of maps because i know how to read the signs at a glance now and my feet know where they're going. another chapter goes by and simultaneously 2 other people nearby are closing and stowing their books, marks slipped between the pages by expert fingers and all three of us are standing to exit at Notting Hill Gate.
back on the surface the air is brisk after the air below, warmed by the train's electric motors and the body heat of thousands of commuters. i can't see any signs for the streets and i don't realise until i've gone 50 meters that i've taken the wrong street, so i back-track and get it right the second time. it's not an issue, it barely registers - it's easy to miss the signs and often easier to just head off in a random direction until you see something to tell you what street you exited the station on. the procedure is spinal now. i'd checked and memorised the time for the last service without thinking about it back at Oval Station so i already knew when i'd have to start making tracks. i'm meeting up with a group of random people who've met on Facebook at a mexican restaurant and as usual i'm the first one there, ten or fifteen minutes early. another album starts playing before my phone rings.
dude. i'm here already - where you at? no worries. k, see you in 5. i'll be out the front. soonkbye.
it's 7:03. these are the first words i've spoken all day... or did i mutter to myself in the shower? i don't remember. it's not important. Adnan shows up as advertised, the instigator of the group. Jeff is next - another Aussie who's been country-hopping for the last few years. Laura, a canadian from Vancouver is next by a tiny margin. i've met Adnan and Jeff before, but since Laura's avatar is a carebear we have no idea what we're looking for. i can't talk - mine's a picture of my old steelcaps. Jessica and her friends Anna and Antonia are a step behind - three german girls, each as different from the other as you could get, making 7. introductions made, we're playing the "getting to know you" games you play when complete strangers meet for the first time. we wait, making small talk in the cold for 20 minutes waiting for a table and soon food and margaritas are arriving, conversations shifting back and forth, exchanging stories, cracking jokes and a little play-flirting, fun and games. i'm challenged to up my chili-dose, which i do with a smile on my face. a small, fresh chili from Adnan's drink is put in front of me so i figure, what the fuck? down it goes and i'm sweating, eyes wrapping themselves in tears while i sit there enjoying the burn and sipping gratefully at people's offered drinks. i'm accused of looking "surprisingly composed". hey - it's all amusing.
we get the fuck out (my words) once we've finished ordering seconds and found a really nice, traditional-looking pub on Portobello Rd. where we sink pints and keep exchanging stories until we're kicked out at 11:15. Jeff tells of his travels from Japan to Korea to Canada to Britain and i explain the politics of sharing a room with a platonic friend and how we'd come to be here while people look intrigued at the concept. two different stories that they'd heard of people doing, but never met anyone who had.
"Man, and I thought my broom closet and tiny single bed were bad," Jeff opines.
yeah mate, but at least you can jerk off in peace.
"That's true, and it's one thing I'm REALLY thankful for," he replies while the girls giggle and Adnan looks shocked.
an argument ensues when we get out the door as to where we should go next. the consensus seems to be that we should head somewhere central so that we can all get home ok afterwards. Oxford Circus is declared the next stop, simply because there's plenty nearby, fulfils the "central" requirement and i'm sick of this conversation by now so impose the call. we wind up at a trendy-looking place with terrible beer on tap just off Carnaby st and Regent St that keeps us entertained until 1ish. things were looking interesting between Jeff and Laura - he'd spent his canadian year in Vancouver, so they had lots to talk about, but she'd run into some other friends randomly at the bar. Adnan sat on a couch while i exchanged mandarin swear words for Jessica's german, the other girls giggling at my (admittedly poor) pronunciation, playing with language like it's a toy.
1AM rolls around and the germans are gone. the boys are all tired and ready to book out and Laura rejoins us because she has no idea how to get from Regent St to London Bridge where there's a party going on. we're invited, but the £15 cover charge is too steep. Adnan and i walk her down to The Strand until we find a couple of Night Buses she can use and then there were two - Adnan and i walking across the Thames where we part company and i start the half-hour walk home with a choice selection from the Guitar Hero games playing in my ears. it's cold, but i'm walking fast enough not to notice. without anyone else to slow down for i fall into my long, comfortable stride - the one that i can keep up for most of the day while i cross cities, whistling along to Killswitch Engage, ignoring people's requests for cigarettes or change, not breaking stride, i feign dropping some rubbish in a bin so that i can check behind me but they're gone, far in the other direction.
in the door and up the stairs, Lou and i wave at each other as i come in tired and sweaty. we've not exchanged words in 24 hours now and i'm curious as to what's going on, but not about to rock the boat. i desperately need to shed my layers and get some water into me. there's an episode of Stargate: Atlantis that isn't going to watch itself and another chapter or two of Darkly Dreaming Dexter to read before i'll be ready to sleep and it's already 2:30AM. it's been a great night out but tomorrow i'll have to be productive. i've not washed my sheets since we moved in here over a month ago and i'm over it. the problem is that there's no way to dry them out at home before i'll want to sleep on them again so it'll require a trip to a laundromat. i'm sure the one on Brixton Road will be open on a Sunday afternoon. but that's something to worry about tomorrow when i'm not slightly drunk and exhausted, but in a good mood regardless.
i've found the pace of this city and slotted in nicely and for now that's enough, although a look through the pictures on a particular Facebook account serve to remind me what, and how much, i'm missing. my very own unique monkey clinging to my back. something i say i'll worry about more another day, but will nonetheless keep cropping up in my mind. snooping Facebook was a mistake, but one i can live with and at least won't stop me from getting to sleep tonight. strangely, it still puts a smile on my face which makes it all worth it...
i left the house 20 minutes beforehand. get dressed after having a shower, layer after layer to keep me warm through the night. singlet, long-sleaved shirt, hoodie, trousers, heavy boots, black coat. my hat tops it off and i check myself in the mirror on the other side of the bed. wallet loaded, accessories stowed in their usual pockets, shoulder bag slung and i'm out the door, down the stairs and on the street. i'm at the tube station 30 seconds later. on my right are the terminals where you can top up your Oyster Card. i feed the machine 20 quid to keep me covered for the next week or two, head through the gate and down the escalator to the platform. i've stowed a book in my shoulder-bag, so i pull it out and begin to read while leaning against the wall. i barely look up to get on the train and i don't bother getting comfortable because i'm off again at Kennington - the next stop. crossing through the short corridor separating platforms, there's another train waiting to take me up the Charing Cross branch of the Northern Line, where i get off at Tottenham Court Road station and follow the maze across to the Central Line, the dripping blood picture on the big white book earning the occasional glance from passers-by. The Used is playing on my Portable Sanity Device, keeping me paraxodically calm. no worries, no fuss, no paranoid inspection of maps because i know how to read the signs at a glance now and my feet know where they're going. another chapter goes by and simultaneously 2 other people nearby are closing and stowing their books, marks slipped between the pages by expert fingers and all three of us are standing to exit at Notting Hill Gate.
back on the surface the air is brisk after the air below, warmed by the train's electric motors and the body heat of thousands of commuters. i can't see any signs for the streets and i don't realise until i've gone 50 meters that i've taken the wrong street, so i back-track and get it right the second time. it's not an issue, it barely registers - it's easy to miss the signs and often easier to just head off in a random direction until you see something to tell you what street you exited the station on. the procedure is spinal now. i'd checked and memorised the time for the last service without thinking about it back at Oval Station so i already knew when i'd have to start making tracks. i'm meeting up with a group of random people who've met on Facebook at a mexican restaurant and as usual i'm the first one there, ten or fifteen minutes early. another album starts playing before my phone rings.
dude. i'm here already - where you at? no worries. k, see you in 5. i'll be out the front. soonkbye.
it's 7:03. these are the first words i've spoken all day... or did i mutter to myself in the shower? i don't remember. it's not important. Adnan shows up as advertised, the instigator of the group. Jeff is next - another Aussie who's been country-hopping for the last few years. Laura, a canadian from Vancouver is next by a tiny margin. i've met Adnan and Jeff before, but since Laura's avatar is a carebear we have no idea what we're looking for. i can't talk - mine's a picture of my old steelcaps. Jessica and her friends Anna and Antonia are a step behind - three german girls, each as different from the other as you could get, making 7. introductions made, we're playing the "getting to know you" games you play when complete strangers meet for the first time. we wait, making small talk in the cold for 20 minutes waiting for a table and soon food and margaritas are arriving, conversations shifting back and forth, exchanging stories, cracking jokes and a little play-flirting, fun and games. i'm challenged to up my chili-dose, which i do with a smile on my face. a small, fresh chili from Adnan's drink is put in front of me so i figure, what the fuck? down it goes and i'm sweating, eyes wrapping themselves in tears while i sit there enjoying the burn and sipping gratefully at people's offered drinks. i'm accused of looking "surprisingly composed". hey - it's all amusing.
we get the fuck out (my words) once we've finished ordering seconds and found a really nice, traditional-looking pub on Portobello Rd. where we sink pints and keep exchanging stories until we're kicked out at 11:15. Jeff tells of his travels from Japan to Korea to Canada to Britain and i explain the politics of sharing a room with a platonic friend and how we'd come to be here while people look intrigued at the concept. two different stories that they'd heard of people doing, but never met anyone who had.
"Man, and I thought my broom closet and tiny single bed were bad," Jeff opines.
yeah mate, but at least you can jerk off in peace.
"That's true, and it's one thing I'm REALLY thankful for," he replies while the girls giggle and Adnan looks shocked.
an argument ensues when we get out the door as to where we should go next. the consensus seems to be that we should head somewhere central so that we can all get home ok afterwards. Oxford Circus is declared the next stop, simply because there's plenty nearby, fulfils the "central" requirement and i'm sick of this conversation by now so impose the call. we wind up at a trendy-looking place with terrible beer on tap just off Carnaby st and Regent St that keeps us entertained until 1ish. things were looking interesting between Jeff and Laura - he'd spent his canadian year in Vancouver, so they had lots to talk about, but she'd run into some other friends randomly at the bar. Adnan sat on a couch while i exchanged mandarin swear words for Jessica's german, the other girls giggling at my (admittedly poor) pronunciation, playing with language like it's a toy.
1AM rolls around and the germans are gone. the boys are all tired and ready to book out and Laura rejoins us because she has no idea how to get from Regent St to London Bridge where there's a party going on. we're invited, but the £15 cover charge is too steep. Adnan and i walk her down to The Strand until we find a couple of Night Buses she can use and then there were two - Adnan and i walking across the Thames where we part company and i start the half-hour walk home with a choice selection from the Guitar Hero games playing in my ears. it's cold, but i'm walking fast enough not to notice. without anyone else to slow down for i fall into my long, comfortable stride - the one that i can keep up for most of the day while i cross cities, whistling along to Killswitch Engage, ignoring people's requests for cigarettes or change, not breaking stride, i feign dropping some rubbish in a bin so that i can check behind me but they're gone, far in the other direction.
in the door and up the stairs, Lou and i wave at each other as i come in tired and sweaty. we've not exchanged words in 24 hours now and i'm curious as to what's going on, but not about to rock the boat. i desperately need to shed my layers and get some water into me. there's an episode of Stargate: Atlantis that isn't going to watch itself and another chapter or two of Darkly Dreaming Dexter to read before i'll be ready to sleep and it's already 2:30AM. it's been a great night out but tomorrow i'll have to be productive. i've not washed my sheets since we moved in here over a month ago and i'm over it. the problem is that there's no way to dry them out at home before i'll want to sleep on them again so it'll require a trip to a laundromat. i'm sure the one on Brixton Road will be open on a Sunday afternoon. but that's something to worry about tomorrow when i'm not slightly drunk and exhausted, but in a good mood regardless.
i've found the pace of this city and slotted in nicely and for now that's enough, although a look through the pictures on a particular Facebook account serve to remind me what, and how much, i'm missing. my very own unique monkey clinging to my back. something i say i'll worry about more another day, but will nonetheless keep cropping up in my mind. snooping Facebook was a mistake, but one i can live with and at least won't stop me from getting to sleep tonight. strangely, it still puts a smile on my face which makes it all worth it...
Saturday, December 6, 2008
friends of friends...
another week of job hunting, and it's not gutting me like it has in weeks gone by. the frustration remains, but i'm so used to it that it's become routine. bizarrely, things seem to be looking up. i had two pimps fighting over me for a role last week which is always gratifying and while there are less jobs going i somehow seem to have more traction. i had a great moment earlier today when one of the pimps i met with last week called me up. she put me down for a role on Tuesday which was junior, and underpaid, but not so objectionable that it'd kill me, so i was surprised to hear that the client had revised the job description, £50/day. great news - more than enough to bring me from grudgingly accepting to really quite interested. with any luck i'll have more news come monday.
monday's going to be good for other reasons too - Lou starts her new job on monday. we got her contract sorted through the same Umbrella Company i'm using so everything from here should be easy. while it's not a complete life-saver, her two week trial will cover her for a month's rent and expenses and that that's golden for her right now. if those two weeks go well and the work continues she should be well sorted for the near future. here's hoping.
a week or so ago i got an email from Ali - a friend of Sandra's. i'd completely forgotten she was coming through London for a week before heading off on a Contiki tour of Europe. i sent her some useful information about how to get from Heathrow to where said she was staying, addresses for the transport websites and my home address so that she could get an Oyster Card to make it easier for her to get around. we met up on Tuesday afternoon at Oxford Circus and i took her for a walk down Regent St, through Leicester Square to Trafalgar Square, then down Whitehall to Westminster. we crossed the Thames and passed the London Eye before crossing back over at Blackfriars Bridge and took Fleet St and The Strand back towards Soho. she'd gotten off her flight at OMFG that morning and my goal was to keep her out in natural light for as long as she could stand and keep her exercising so that she could beat the jet-lag and guarantee a good night's sleep. worked like a charm, she told me later, apart for the blisters on her feet. i took her out for another wander today, wandering through Covent Garden, past the Australian High Commission (where, she said, the Gringott's Bank scenes were shot for the Harry Potter movies), then up Kingsway and down High Holborn back to Oxford St. i'd dropped my coat back at the shop earlier in the day after discovering that the lining was starting to come apart and they promised it back mended before 5. it was great wandering around the streets that are now familiar to me while seeing it all through the eyes of someone Fresh Off The Boat - all the time reminding me what it was like when i first arrived two months prior.
two months. that's fucking insane. i can't believe i've been here for two months now.
either way, we had a pleasant time shooting the breeze and me playing tour-guide until we parted company just before 5. i grabbed my coat and, now feeling complete and not to mention: warm again, i headed back down Oxford St to grab the tube up to Archway - north of Camden. Moonbug was having Part 1 of her birthday party up there later in the evening and with time to kill i wandered into a couple of book shops and came out with an Omnibus containing all three of the Dexter books which i proceeded to read on the tube north, and more so while leaning against the wall next to a girl collecting for Breast Cancer research, waiting for Lou to meet me up.
we were early - 45 minutes early in fact, and since i'd already had a beer donated by a californian guy who struck up a conversation (he asked for a cigarette and while i had none we got chatting. he explained that he was a recovering alcoholic while he swigged at the tinnie of beer in his hand, and he was out and about trying to change the world for the better.
".. and if i die trying then it was worth it," he said.
as long as you don't die with a Kronenbourg in your hand, mate, i'm sure you'll be fine.
"Hey, I've got a spare in my bag if you'd like one."
Mate! i'll never say no to a beer!
and so it was that i had myself a beer with this pleasant, if misguided, american lad) while i was checking the streets outside, so we hit the pub across the road from the tube station.
tea was pleasant - Moonbug's friends are an entertaining bunch. amusingly, two of the girls there were, like Moonbug and i, also from Perth and we had a long remembrance of some of our favourite places in the Old Town - UWA and its Tav, The Last Drop, Broadway Pizza and Fish & Chips, Banana splits at The Moon Cafe, South Perth Foreshore and skinny-dipping at Swanbourne Beach - those places you know because you grew up there, you were taken by someone, or you found it by accident. poor Lou was thoughtlessly left out of the love-in. still, we had a good time there, and later in Camden at a bar which specialised in belgian and trappist beers.
it's been pleasant of late. i'm spending many an evening quietly lying around playing games or watching tv shows on my laptop. Lou lies around with her isolation-earphones in watching movies or listening to audiobooks or talking to Paully. she's been sick as sick. Friday was her first night out in a couple of weeks. hell - it was the longest i'd seen her out of bed in some time. i'm getting bits and pieces of news from home. people are being thoughtful enough to keep me informed as to current affairs and gossip which either doesn't bear mentioning here, or will need its own review when i've more time. i've only been writing for two hours now (some posts get back-dated or written out of order. i don't like to make a big deal about this, but it bears mentioning. the bug bit me tonight so i wanted to catch up while i had it in me) and i'm not about to tackle another topic right now. all in all it's been quiet, although pleasantly so. i'm getting out on the weekends and for now this is enough. come xmas i'm thinking of biting the bullet and doing a trip. i don't want to spend the money, but i know that it'd amuse me sufficiently that i wouldn't feel so bad about lying low again afterwards. i'm considering Scotland, but i'll see how i'm feeling in a week or so.
right now i'm going to head for bed. there's no more job-hunting to be done until monday so i'll put it out of my mind until then and maybe do some hacking of a couple of interesting automation and customisation scripts i read about and have been meaning to play with. getting my geek on helps keep my mind in gear. i've also been designing the home media and entertainment network i'd build when i settle down. it's amusing, if only as a mental and research exercise - finding the components, working out how i'd mesh it all together and costing it all out. honestly, this can actualy be more fun than actually building the thing because once i build it and it's all running the real fun's all over. the rest is just using the thing and that's never quite so exciting.
either way, i'm doing well - much better than a couple of weeks ago. i'm alive and grooving and finding my way and my mood is certainly improving. i can't help but feel that something good this way comes and i think that's a feeling that i can live with for the next little while.
monday's going to be good for other reasons too - Lou starts her new job on monday. we got her contract sorted through the same Umbrella Company i'm using so everything from here should be easy. while it's not a complete life-saver, her two week trial will cover her for a month's rent and expenses and that that's golden for her right now. if those two weeks go well and the work continues she should be well sorted for the near future. here's hoping.
a week or so ago i got an email from Ali - a friend of Sandra's. i'd completely forgotten she was coming through London for a week before heading off on a Contiki tour of Europe. i sent her some useful information about how to get from Heathrow to where said she was staying, addresses for the transport websites and my home address so that she could get an Oyster Card to make it easier for her to get around. we met up on Tuesday afternoon at Oxford Circus and i took her for a walk down Regent St, through Leicester Square to Trafalgar Square, then down Whitehall to Westminster. we crossed the Thames and passed the London Eye before crossing back over at Blackfriars Bridge and took Fleet St and The Strand back towards Soho. she'd gotten off her flight at OMFG that morning and my goal was to keep her out in natural light for as long as she could stand and keep her exercising so that she could beat the jet-lag and guarantee a good night's sleep. worked like a charm, she told me later, apart for the blisters on her feet. i took her out for another wander today, wandering through Covent Garden, past the Australian High Commission (where, she said, the Gringott's Bank scenes were shot for the Harry Potter movies), then up Kingsway and down High Holborn back to Oxford St. i'd dropped my coat back at the shop earlier in the day after discovering that the lining was starting to come apart and they promised it back mended before 5. it was great wandering around the streets that are now familiar to me while seeing it all through the eyes of someone Fresh Off The Boat - all the time reminding me what it was like when i first arrived two months prior.
two months. that's fucking insane. i can't believe i've been here for two months now.
either way, we had a pleasant time shooting the breeze and me playing tour-guide until we parted company just before 5. i grabbed my coat and, now feeling complete and not to mention: warm again, i headed back down Oxford St to grab the tube up to Archway - north of Camden. Moonbug was having Part 1 of her birthday party up there later in the evening and with time to kill i wandered into a couple of book shops and came out with an Omnibus containing all three of the Dexter books which i proceeded to read on the tube north, and more so while leaning against the wall next to a girl collecting for Breast Cancer research, waiting for Lou to meet me up.
we were early - 45 minutes early in fact, and since i'd already had a beer donated by a californian guy who struck up a conversation (he asked for a cigarette and while i had none we got chatting. he explained that he was a recovering alcoholic while he swigged at the tinnie of beer in his hand, and he was out and about trying to change the world for the better.
".. and if i die trying then it was worth it," he said.
as long as you don't die with a Kronenbourg in your hand, mate, i'm sure you'll be fine.
"Hey, I've got a spare in my bag if you'd like one."
Mate! i'll never say no to a beer!
and so it was that i had myself a beer with this pleasant, if misguided, american lad) while i was checking the streets outside, so we hit the pub across the road from the tube station.
tea was pleasant - Moonbug's friends are an entertaining bunch. amusingly, two of the girls there were, like Moonbug and i, also from Perth and we had a long remembrance of some of our favourite places in the Old Town - UWA and its Tav, The Last Drop, Broadway Pizza and Fish & Chips, Banana splits at The Moon Cafe, South Perth Foreshore and skinny-dipping at Swanbourne Beach - those places you know because you grew up there, you were taken by someone, or you found it by accident. poor Lou was thoughtlessly left out of the love-in. still, we had a good time there, and later in Camden at a bar which specialised in belgian and trappist beers.
it's been pleasant of late. i'm spending many an evening quietly lying around playing games or watching tv shows on my laptop. Lou lies around with her isolation-earphones in watching movies or listening to audiobooks or talking to Paully. she's been sick as sick. Friday was her first night out in a couple of weeks. hell - it was the longest i'd seen her out of bed in some time. i'm getting bits and pieces of news from home. people are being thoughtful enough to keep me informed as to current affairs and gossip which either doesn't bear mentioning here, or will need its own review when i've more time. i've only been writing for two hours now (some posts get back-dated or written out of order. i don't like to make a big deal about this, but it bears mentioning. the bug bit me tonight so i wanted to catch up while i had it in me) and i'm not about to tackle another topic right now. all in all it's been quiet, although pleasantly so. i'm getting out on the weekends and for now this is enough. come xmas i'm thinking of biting the bullet and doing a trip. i don't want to spend the money, but i know that it'd amuse me sufficiently that i wouldn't feel so bad about lying low again afterwards. i'm considering Scotland, but i'll see how i'm feeling in a week or so.
right now i'm going to head for bed. there's no more job-hunting to be done until monday so i'll put it out of my mind until then and maybe do some hacking of a couple of interesting automation and customisation scripts i read about and have been meaning to play with. getting my geek on helps keep my mind in gear. i've also been designing the home media and entertainment network i'd build when i settle down. it's amusing, if only as a mental and research exercise - finding the components, working out how i'd mesh it all together and costing it all out. honestly, this can actualy be more fun than actually building the thing because once i build it and it's all running the real fun's all over. the rest is just using the thing and that's never quite so exciting.
either way, i'm doing well - much better than a couple of weeks ago. i'm alive and grooving and finding my way and my mood is certainly improving. i can't help but feel that something good this way comes and i think that's a feeling that i can live with for the next little while.
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