jon – Page 52 – Hello Curns

Awww

I was certainly right. I ached this morning. Almost every bone and several parts I didn’t really know that I had. It remains, however, a great feeling not to have spent the day indoors watching television on a wet Sunday afternoon. I tackled nature and although nature probably won in the end (watch as all my careful pruning results in a whole pile of dead plants by spring) it was a rewarding task. I don’t get to spend much time outdoors and I don’t to do much physical work. I am a desk-jockey and it probably isn’t that good for me. I never really wanted to be a desk bound. For me, sitting in an office all day has strange overtones of turning into my father. I have nothing against my Dad, I just never thought of myself as being a desk-based person but I am. I sit in front of a screen and type for most of the day. I guess that’s why I enjoyed the rain yesterday and, luckily, I don’t seem to have the cold I thought that amount of soggy clothing would bring on.

Starmaker, Dream Breaker

So it’s all getting a bit spooky. There I was on Friday night remembering the songs from the TV series of Fame (I preferred the TV series as it was much fluffier. Being so young, the grittiness of the film version didn’t hit me for several years) and remembering Danny as one of my childhood lust-objects (you used to be able to download your own Danny wallpaper here).

I spent yesterday doing all the boring things you have to do around the house occasionally. Cleaning. Paying bills etc. At some point I switched on VH1 to find it was their 100 Worst Videos day. And the song I switched on to? No 62 (I think) which was Starmaker, by the Kids from Fame (OK, it would have been a better story if it was Friday Night, but still)

So let’s see if I can tempt fate – I want to see more about the following: Play School, Rainbow, Harley Hare, The Clangers, Trumpton. How spooky would it be if this actually works?

It will aid my aching bones. I’ve been in the garden all day cutting down bushes and pruning. I was outside for the grand total of seven hours and it rained for most of them. Strangely, I feel invigorated by having spent the day outdoors. No doubt I shall ache tomorrow.

Friday Night’s Gonna Be Alright

Friday nigh’s gonna be alright.

Well in a few minutes I will, hopefully, be leaving the office. I have been here late most evenings and, to be honest, I am really looking forward to going home and sleeping. The air-conditioning in the office has been broken so we have gradually baked our way through today. I would he happy without the nonsense air-conditioning anyway, but all the windows have been sealed shut so that you can’t get any really fresh (well, fresh for London standards) air into your lungs. I have a weekend of hard, manual labour planned. I have to tame some of the wild growth in my garden. I can’t wait. Friday Night, as Danny (one of the Kids from Fame) once sang, is “gonna be alright”. I’m sure I remember that because I used to have a huge crush on Carlo Imperato.

Start shaking your hips
Baby pucker your lips
Cause I’m coming to see you soon

I must only have been about 10 years old!

Anyway, why you may ask do I spend ten minutes writing this? Well, our dumb systems are taking forever to do some processing and I am not going to sit here all night watching the screen!

Mussels

I used to work with most of these guys six or seven (if not more) years ago and we’ve all remained in contact ever since.

Last night I met up with some old work colleagues. I used to work with most of these guys six or seven (if not more) years ago and we’ve all remained in contact ever since. This is fantastic, especially for me as they were the first people (apart from some ex-University friends) who I met when I moved to London. We have, however, fallen into the trap of thinking we are all six or seven (if not more) years younger than we actually are and spend the evenings getting very drunk in various London drinking holes. We then wander like (drunken) startled rabbits around the West End looking for a post-closing curry. A fun, if somewhat painful, experience.

Well, not last night. Firstly, we added some extra people – friends of ex-colleagues – which made the night more interesting. Secondly, we decided to (this is all very grown up) to go out for a meal. And it was decided that we go to Belgos in Covent Garden. I had very little to do with the decision (in fact, to be honest, I never replied to that email so I have nothing to complain about) but the great thing is that I love Belgos. I’ve always enjoy the whole pots of mussels thing and make a sufficient mess to show that I have enjoyed the food.

And to add to that, there was the cutest waiter serving the table next to ours – which was all the better as he got to lean over and serve them. Ah, the joys of lust!

Ultimate Boy Band CD (1)

I am trying to compile the ultimate boy band CD and I am unsure where to start. Anyway, current thinking includes:

N’Sync – Pop
Take That – Relight My Fire
Take That – Could It Be Magic
F5ive – If Ya Gettin’ Down
Backstreet Boys – Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)
A1 – Same Old Brand New You

I shall now go away and think about it properly, updating as I go.

My Big Fat Greek Wedding

My Big Fat Greek Wedding was something of a hit and miss film. You learned much about the Greek (lead) character, Toula, and her inter-family relationships. But you learned very little about her love interest, Ian. If the point of the film was to show the development of Toula from the shy woman living life for her father by waiting tables (“seating hostess”) in his restaurant to the confident, beautiful self-styled woman that Ian Miller falls in love with, then, I guess, it succeeded. Sadly, because you know so little about him and his one-dimensional parents, this film feels empty and fails to pull you in.

Reviews will tell how My Big Fat Greek Wedding makes you laugh, cry and feel. I, however, was left wanting more. The large Greek family, played with love and humour, finally come to accept non-Greek Ian into the family. Ian, however, never challenges that their acceptance requires him to turn into them. Far from celebrating diversity, the film fails to show both sides of the tale and we are forced to believe that Ian will do anything, unquestioningly for Toula. I suspect that I am trying to read too much into, what should be, a light Saturday night romantic comedy but as the film played out its story I found myself less and less engaged.

Having said all this, there were some laugh-out-loud moments and some top-class performances. Andrea Martin (Aunt Voula), Michael Constantine (Gus) and Lainie Kazan (Maria) all stood out. The performance of Nia Vardalos (Toula), who also wrote the story, is also worth mentioning as she certainly conveyed Toula’s side of the story. Unfortunately, that’s all I felt I got (Toula’s side) and it could have been so much more.

A Walk On The Wild Side

My two days off have been great. Yesterday we dove to the Outlet Mall (what’s the British equivalent of that?) in Swindon. It’s the first time we have put miles on this new Ka (which I haven’t mentioned yet). Still, we drove in the sunshine and shopped. One call from a client was swiftly dealt with.

In the evening we made Bristol where we are staying at a Travelodge in Bristol City Centre. After unloading it was a quick taxi ride to visit some friends who we hadn’t seen for a very long time until last month. And now it’s been twice in five weeks which is a great feeling. Chinese meal and back to the hotel.

This morning we had a quick walk around Bristol City as it’s been many years since I was last here and things seem to have changed. The most amusing thing was the ill-fitting suits on a bunch of young men walking towards the Magistrates Court. I know I shouldn’t leap to conclusions (perhaps they were newly qualified solicitors) but I could just imagine their legal representation reminding them to look respectable for the judge.

As this holiday has originally been pencilled in for longer and as a trip to Cornwall to see the Eden project, we decided to opt for Bristol’s local equivalent Wildwalk at the complex known as @Bristol. I suspect this isn’t anywhere near on the scale of Eden but it was an interesting walk through the development of life on earth. It features a glasshouse full of tropical plants and – to my surprise – living, breathing birds (I thought it was just a tape of their calls). Recommended if you are in Bristol. Right now we are heading South via the lovely A roads looking for a suitable tourist spot to stop at.

Nearly There

As I am not going to fake the blog then you, dear reader, must put up with the dull bits as well as the not-so-dull.

Looking back at yesterday’s post I see that everybody has a much more interesting life than I do, or at least it seems that way! As I am not going to fake the blog then you, dear reader, must put up with the dull bits as well as the not-so-dull.

Today is my last day at work this week. I am taking two days off so that I may clear my head. There are a lot of things to think about when it comes to work and, more importantly, PY and I want to spend some time together. The downside of taking this break (which was originally meant to be a week and has been reduced to two days) is that I will be here (that’s in the office) for another couple of hours. So, no more time to update. I am going to boil the kettle and get on. Posts beyond this point will be written on my Palm Pilot and updated when they can be.

Snapshot of the Blogsphere

A quick look around the web and some of the comments for the first day of a new month.

It may be October but the weather doesn’t suggest it at all. Anyway, my current three favourite blogs are saying this today:

You think you’re fine with everything until you wake up at 4am convinced there’s someone in your flat again. [plasticbag]
Bloody hell, it’s October. How did that happen? [not.so.soft]
I don’t know what to do with my life. This morning I had my Early Modern Architecture class and it made me indecisive again [trabaca]

Wonder how this will read in a year’s time?

Working Late (again)

Working. I want to work, thats for sure but I am not sure what I want to do for a living. My job is OK and pays well but its hardly the most stimulating of careers and, whats more, I was in the office until almost 9pm. 9pm on a Friday night. Somehow, I dont think this is right:

I do not think its right for me to work so many additional hours. Its not the first night this week by a long shot. I do get paid reasonably well but I want to work to live rather than live to work.
I do not think this is right for my relationship. I am so exhausted by the time I get home that all I do is eat and sleep. This is not much of a life really.
I do not think this is right for my health. Lengthy hours equal stress in the desire to get home (and I am sure must lead to mistakes somewhere along the line). I need to eat (decent food) at a decent hour and not (fast food) at some late hour before I fall asleep on the sofa or crawl to bed.
Im not even site its right for the company that employs me. Im sure that by putting this much pressure on me, they are not getting the best out of me.
And above all its not right for my spirit. It depresses me to spend so long working. I know I am lucky to have a reasonably paying career but if this is all life is then I am not sure I want it. The career, that is, I do want the life!

But at last, the weekend! Time to re-charge.

Our Country Friends

How many of us who live amidst an urban sprawl would rather be living in the countryside? I suspect it’s a conversation that keeps the wine bars of large parts of London alive. The quest for a quieter, simpler life is something many people search for. Indeed, it is something I have thought of many times. Move all my worldly goods to the South West and see what happens. Well, in truth, at this moment in my life I don’t actually want to do it. Sometimes, however, I wish I could lose the congestion and stresses of inner-city (or, in my case, suburban) living.

And why am I asking myself these questions? Well, last Sunday was the day The Countryside Alliance marched through London. I avoided the centre of town for most of the day but I did enjoy a lunch at Wandsworth Common. Seated at most of the tables surrounding us where groups of people who, quite evidently, had been on some part of the march. What intrigued me was why so many of them had taken a train out of central London to Wandsworth Common.

Of course PY, who seems to have a greater understanding of many of these things than I, claimed that many of those people sat there on Sunday afternoon were in fact local residents but they had been marching for the countryside cause – “Liberty and Livelihood”. Upon reflection, I think he was right. Many of them may have other houses in the country, perhaps even own large amounts of land. But what struck me most was a simple economics. If all the money they spent in the restaurants of Wandsworth Common each Sunday was spent in the countryside then rural communities would be booming. Not only that, but if they all went and lived outside the city and enjoyed the life they were marching to protect on a daily basis (rather than at weekends), then they would free up a great deal of housing stock in urban areas. Thus, the countryside benefits (it’s full of people spending money and supporting the “lifestyle”) and those of us wishing to remain (for the time being) city dwellers would also benefit from less ridiculous housing costs. Doesn’t everybody win? (Well, I know there is the matter of jobs, schools and other infrastructure etc. but you have to admit it’s starting point, if not wholly thought through. And more importantly it’s plainly hypocritical to march for something you don’t actively – economically – support).

For a more interesting read on tweed in the town, see here.

Nike 10K

I want to pass comment on the fact that PY, my significant other/partner/general love of my life, ran the Nike 10K Run London event yesterday in a time which beat his run last year. I was nearly in tears when he crossed the line – isn’t that sad?

The event itself did not seem as well organised as last year. We waited at Wimbledon where there were not enough shuttle buses. The transportation problems lead to a delay at the start and, I imagine, a good number of competitors who didn’t make their allotted start time. The atmosphere was not as good as last year either. In Kew Gardens and with half the number of competitors, last year’s race seemed more intimate and fun. This year, Richmond Park, was spread out and didn’t seem to have the same number of things for those non-runners amongst the throng, to do.

The Woman Who Cooked Her Husband

… on seeing the three-headed comedy, The Woman Who Cooked Her Husband at The New Ambassadors Theatre.

After much walking around London yesterday, I eventually got PY, American Colleague and Myself tickets to The Woman Who Cooked Her Husband. It’s on at The New Ambassadors Theatre, which can be an intimate and interesting venue. It stars Alison Steadman and Daisy Donovan.

It’s a three-headed almost-farce like comedy (I was waiting for a Vicar and no trousers) and it’s only mediocre. Firstly, the title gives the game away. Secondly, the story is too weak to be carried for ninety minutes and thirdly, sadly, some of the acting isn’t great. There’s an old adage that everyone’s a critic and at £32 a ticket I think I bloody well deserve to be. Daisy Donovan, who I find hilarious on television, seemed out of place – although maybe that was just me as reviewers seem to think she handled herself well. However, when the main comedic thrust of her role was the comedy dancing – which might work on TV but looks very strange on the stage – I didn’t think she stood a chance. I imagine that Alison Steadman did her best but I think, the material was just not up to it. It didn’t give Daisy Donovan anything to make her West-End debut with and it didn’t give Alison Steadman anything to get her teeth into. This review says all this in a much more articulate way.

Still, despite its shortcomings, it was an OK evening. Middle aged couples and pairs of gay men. There is something faintly disturbing about that mix. And, perhaps, one should always remember that food is as important as sex.

Tired

Another night of entertaining on Old Compton Street

Bet you’re thinking, not another entry about food. My office (more-or-less) took American colleague out for dinner again last night and, again, on Old Compton Street. Pizza. Huge pizzas (not had such a big pizza in London for some time) that were bigger than any plates that the restaurant had available. Many office-type things to speak of but I will reserve judgement on the evening for another time (how mysterious).

So now I am dog-tired. I have been entertaining or being entertained, all week. I have to arrange theatre trips for tonight and other things for the rest of the weekend. It’s very strange, as I haven’t felt this physically exhausted in months. I feel really drained but I couldn’t sleep any longer than I did. My brain was awake and I was getting to that point when lying in bed hurts more than the thought of getting up pains me. Maybe it an age thing.

South Bank. Friends from North.

I could have spent much of this week writing about going out eating and/or entertaining but decided that would be too dull. On the other hand, on Wednesday night we (American and I) went on the London Eye (always a fantastic treat) and then wandered down the South Bank. It is, probably, one of my favourite areas of London.

Old County Hall. It’s a pleasuredome of treats but the best bit, is the aquarium. We didn’t go in this time, but I love the place and am writing this as kind of note to self: go back to the London Aquarium.
The London Eye. My thirtieth birthday was spent on The Eye in a hired capsule with a whole bunch of friends – all of whom had almost no notice but arrived for drinks, ride and pizza. This time we were on The Eye as the light started to fade – which actually made it all the more magical. We even bought the tacky tourist snap that they take on the way down.
New Hungerford Bridges(s). I have spent years walking over the old, narrow bridge avoiding the winter floods and the summer camera-wielding tourists. The new bridges look stunning. They are boulevard wide and, actually, very pleasant to walk across and each bridge has very different, but fabulous, views.
Royal Festival Hall and National Film Theatre. They may be concrete and they are certainly not photogenic but they are some of my favourite locations. Long may the concrete jungle live.
Oxo Tower. A great building with a great restaurant (even if I can never afford to eat there) and, if you don’t want to go on the wheel, the viewing gallery at the top (free and near the restaurant) provides a stunning view of St. Paul’s Cathedral.
Tate Modern and Millennium Bridge. After all the fuss at the turn of the century these are two worthy additions to the London landscape. The interior of the Tate Modern is fantastic (the sheer size of the entrance is great). And the Millennium Bridge is in just the right place and looks gorgeous when lit (although the last few times I haven’t seen the lights on).

On the way back from these sights (we didn’t do new City Hall or Tower Bridge, Hayes Galleria or Butler’s Wharf) we stopped for a psudo-traditional pub meal of chips and beer. Even though, I suspect, the pub was full of tourists it felt as though it was the kind of place I went to regularly, so I guess, had an air of authenticity.

After all this on Wednesday, I was looking forward to last night. Last night was meant to be an evening not operating as tour guide (not that I mind but the break would be good). I was having dinner with some friends (and some old friends who were coming down from Scotland). My friends in Worcester Park were preparing dinner and it was to be (in fact, it was indeed) and evening of memories and fun. However, things did try and put a blocker on the evening.

I was late. I was attending some presentations with a client they over-ran.
My friend Jo, who was cooking, had been taken ill and been in and out of hospital for two nights (nothing too serious, thankfully). So, she didn’t feel like cooking – her husband decided to and he the food was excellent.
We were all so tired (me from working, them from the illness/hospital adventures) that we called a halt to proceedings at 10.30pm.

It’s a shame when things don’t quite go according to plan and you have been looking forward to them. I had been hoping to have a long catch-up with the folks from Scotland and we ended up with the briefest of chats. Ah well, maybe next time Â…