Turning Japanese

For those of you that remember the song, no, I'm not spending tomorrow masturbating, but am going to a Japanese themed Hen night.

Japanese food followed by karaoke at K-Box on Frith Street. I couldn't be less excited if I tried.

I'm not really going big on the theme part - I'll turn up & eat & drink, but I'm not singing or wearing anything Japanese. I have a Hello Kitty keyring - that will have to do.

The Celia Birtwell Saga continues

Topshop did mess up the order as it rejected my credit card again, but I managed to order the dress again, but in a different size and then the halterneck top which had appeared to have been sold out the first time round. The top has overtaken the dress in the post and was waiting for me when I got home tonight (Topshop thankfully uses a different courier service from the morons Warehouse use who can't work our buzzer system despite instructions).

Anyway this is the top - Celia Birtwell Little Rock Print Halter to give it its full name.

I'm actually wear it now as I type, along with an old pair of flared jeans. I think I like it - no idea where I'll actually go to wear it, but it is limited edition so maybe it would be better if it remained unworn.

Dream

The night before last I dreamt about Andrew Ross. He was the boyfriend of the girl who was my best friend when I was about 14 or 15. I can't even remember how long they went out for or exactly when it was, I can't remember the last time I saw him or thought about him before this. I will confess that I did fancy him a bit though - nothing major or that had a big affect on me - I just remember talking to him one time when she had finished with him & for a moment wishing that he liked me instead. I didn't understand what he saw in her (she was pretty - not as pretty as she thought she was - but she wasn't very bright) and he was rather edgy & brooding, so certainly my type.

I don't know what happened to him or where he is now - as I said I haven't thought about him for years. He split up with her after a while - he was hanging around with a girl he said was his cousin & then to our horror he started going out with the cousin, but it turned out that she was never his cousin in the first place - it was just a ruse to cheat! I remember being at a party with him and the cousin & someone saying they were 'at it with a whisk' in the spare room. He also went to the Simple Minds concert with us - his favourite ever band - but got thrown out for fighting with a Stranglers fan before Simple Minds came on.

The dream disturbed me because it made me think about people and places that I haven't given any thought to for years. I realise I'm getting old - I don't go on epic bus journeys to random people's house parties anymore and I'm not friends with people in bands anymore - my friends work in HR & marketing research! I wonder where it all went so wrong.

Holiday - It would be so nice!

How did I manage to shack up with the only person in the world who doesn't like going on holiday?

Okay, so neither of us wants to go on a package holiday to fry in the sun, drink in Linnekers Bar whilst watching Only Fools & Horses and equally we aren't keen on holidaying in a poor country, patronising the locals. But there must be something in-between? So far we've mainly been on city breaks but I'm exhausted & need to go somewhere to relax.

He wants to stay in this country. I don't - I'm sick of having to always carry an umbrella about just in case and besides this country is such a rip-off. So we are trying to find somewhere else to go, hampered by the fact he won't go away for longer than 3 nights (no idea why). So the shortlist currently stands at:

• St Ives
  
• Malta
  
• Madeira
  
• Jersey

I really don't want to go to Jersey - I would be embarrassed to tell people where I was going and he would make Bergerac jokes the whole time.

Disappointed

I have been obsessing about the Celia Birtwell for Topshop collection for weeks now. But so it seems has everyone else. It sold out within minutes in Topshop Oxford Circus and pieces are already appearing on ebay at ridiculous prices. As usual I had pinned my hopes on pieces of clothing, imagining that owning them will transport me to a better life.

I managed to buy another dress and a blouse online - really in a fit of desparation to own something from the collection - not really the pieces I would have preferred (which the dress pictured is). But I have had trouble with Topshop processing my credit card details before so I'm not convinced that it will actually go through.

So no doubt I'll be disappointed again.

A small hint to casting directors

Do not cast Irishmen to play Native Americans.

This basic mistake ruined my enjoyment of One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest last night.

Christian Slater was mighty fine though - 'You would, wouldn't you!' as I said to my sisters.

It is not Art

This morning my journey to work was disrupted by a security alert at Hammersmith. The train stopped at Ravenscourt Park (it isn't supposed to) and after about 20 minutes of platform sitting, the station was closed with hundreds of passengers being ejected into the wilds of Hammersmith/Chiswick borders - a No Man's Land for public transport. We managed to get on a bus that crawled along to Notting Hill Gate where we were able to resume our journey on the Central Line. I say 'we' because I had my sisters with me who are nervous about London at the best of time - they were rather shaken by the whole things & I doubt they'll ever visit again.

Upon arrival at work one hour and twenty minutes late, it transpired that it was an art experiment - a woman had left five suitcases at various points around west London as an art installation before going to the police to turn herself in.

Why not just paint a nice picture? This is not art. It was a huge nuisance to commuters, but moreoever it is incredibly disrespectful to those people who died in the real attack on London last year.

I hope they lock her up for a very long time.

Today...

my sisters are visiting London from the sticks.

This evening we will go to the theatre to see One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest, but I haven't decided what we will do this afternoon - some combination of food, alcohol & tea probably.

The Last Great Rock n Roll Band

Primal Scream

They are a proper band, a gang that look out for each other.

They've written some great songs and their style has evolved.

They've got a political conscience but not just for popular safe causes (a la Bono and Chris Martin) .

They've taken a shed load of drugs, but they've had fun doing it (take note Pete Docherty - its meant to be fun!).

And of course, they have Bobby Gillespie (still my ideal man) and Mani (the nicest bloke in music) who together were responsible for the funniest piece of television I've ever seen - Glastonbury 2005. Guaranteed never to be repeated. 'Hey hey, we're the junkies' sang Bobby before going on to do a set that was at times shambolic & petulant, but still the best thing on all weekend.

Musical Interlude

Despite having had an ipod for nearly 2 years, I downloaded music from itunes for the first time a couple of weeks ago. I knew I shouldn't have started as it is too easy to spend loads. Here's what I have purchased so far:

• Big Star - She's a Mover
• Big Star - Get What You Deserve
• Big Star - September Gurls
• Talking Heads - Psycho Killer
• The Slits - Heard It Through the Grapevine
• The Kingsmen - Louie Louie
• REM - Coyahoga

So far, so credible, but then this week I descended into ridiculous nostalgia (in some cases for a time before I was born)

• The Rolling Stones - You Can't Always Get What You Want (possibly not a good idea to download a song that reminds me of the Ex)
• Scott MacKenzie - If You're Going to San Franciso etc
• The Byrds - Eight Miles High
• Joni Mitchell - Woodstock (a mistake - its not her version I like - she has voice like chalk on a blackboard)
• Psychedelic Furs - Heaven
• Psychedulic Furs - Heartbeat (I actually then forgot to download Pretty in Pink which had been the whole point - the 80s overproduction is almost unbearable on these songs)
• Deacon Blue - Real Gone Kid (what was I thinking? At least I stopped myself from getting Chocolate Girl as well!)

There's no one quite like Grandma

'Nanny' (as I still call her much to my sisters' amusement) is making my mother miserable. She is refusing to do anything for herself now but also is being argumentative and practically accused mum and Auntie C of stealing from her. It would be tempting to blame old age but to be honest she has always been awful.

Other people's grans are sweet silver-haired old ladies with perms, who like knitting. Not ours. Here are a few of my favourite stories about her:

1. The Gypsy and the Holly Berries
About 25 years ago, Nanny was having an affair with a Gypsy (I know its un-pc, but this is how he was described to me). She decided that she had had enough of Grandad and wanted rid of him - the Gypsy told her that she could poison him by putting holly berries in his food. She tried this but Grandad survived - her cooking was awful so after upteeen years married to her, he obviously had a cast-iron stomach. We know this because Nanny told my mother this - lovely.

2. Woo-ing with Cheese
About 10 years ago (i.e. when she was about 70), Nanny was playing 3 suitors off against each other, according to what gifts they could bring her. One brought her meats, another brought her booze, but the third, a naive 45 year old apparently, brought her flowers. This provoked the response, "Flowers? What do I want with flowers? I've got a garden full of bastard flowers. Could you not bring me a nice lump of cheese instead?"

3. Shoeless Wonder
Nanny always enjoyed 'a pie and a pint' in the pub by the market. Not exactly typical of a woman of her age, but fair enough. However, one Saturday afternoon my sisters were out shopping with her friends (this was probably about 5 years ago) when they spotted a little old woman slumped on the pavement outside of the pub, wearing no shoes. It was, of course, Nanny. My sisters had to quickly hurry their friends on before any of them recognised her as being their gran.

Is it any wonder that we are all fucked up if this is what we are decended from? The rest of the family ain't much better - more of them another day perhaps.

What's missing from my life...

is a dog like this.

He has a lovely face, a floppy fringe (not unlike mine at the moment) and is described as non-sporting which I am too! We could go for long walks on the beach together and never talk about football or cricket.

My new hero

Mr Hopkinson's Computer

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=57087745

A musical genius - a home computer that 'sings' versions of indie classics. His version of Fake Plastic Trees is truly heartbreaking.

I wanted to go & see him 'live' but thought it might be taking things too far. I doubt he'd do many costume changes.

One man and his dog

Last week I was feeling the lowest I had felt for a long time. I was going to write about it here, but instead I think I'll talk about the lovely film I saw last week instead - Bonbon el Perro.

Its an Argentinian film about a man who is given a dog which transforms his life. The man hooks up with a trainer & they enter the dog in a show. They drive around in a little van a lot. To be honest not much happens (I prefer that though - I'm not one for 'man in vest vs the bomb' type films).

Last week in the gloom, I thought about running away from everything, buying a little house with a garden somewhere up north where nobody knows me & buying three dogs, a shi tzu (Blossom), a long-haired dachshund (Hercules) and a Tibetan terrier. But I couldn't think of a name for the Tibetan terrier so in the end I didn't run away.

It would be a lot of grooming though.

The story so far

I have realised that so far this blog hasn't contained much the usual 'this is what I did today' stuff. So here is a summary of what I've done since I started this.

• Been out once in Soho (tipsy)
  
• Been out once in Clapham (merrily drunk)
  
• Been to the cinema once - Cache (frustrasting)
  
• Watched two films on DVD - Sin City (terrible), Training Day (indifferent)
  
• Watched the whole of the first series of The Mighty Boosh (brilliant)
  
• Applied for one new job (fingers crossed)
  
• Hung an exhibition of photography from Sri Lanka (time-consuming)
  
• Had a new shower fitted & bathroom tiled (life-changing)
  
• Been swimming five times (not enough)
  
• Bought one t-shirt, two pairs of trousers and a blouse (still have nothing to wear)

So, not very much really. It has been a dull couple of weeks - things were a lot more exciting previously.

Return of the Pig Man

My good mood on account of sunshine has been ruined by the return of the Pig Man to the office today. Useless lump of lard. Somehow he is getting away with not doing much but is having praise lavished on him. Hardwork, intelligence & the ability to spell count for nothing these days.

Dots

I had promised myself that I wouldn't get sucked into this trend for polka dots. I already had a camisole and a handbag (what was I thinking?) from the last time they were 'in' and had acquired a dotty shirt in New York last year. In February, I cracked and bought a silk scarf, black with white dots - 'my small concession to the trend' I said to my self at the time. Two weeks ago, without giving it much thought, I bought a shirt dress (navy with white spots) - the justification this time 'its a dress and navy so a completely different to the other spotty things. Then yesterday, I bought a blouse (white with black spots - not polka dots though, more random,so again entirely justified).

No more - it has to stop.

Hanging is too good for it

As my OH says without fail everytime I hang a new exhibition at 'my' gallery.

I spent 5 hours this Sunday hanging the latest exhibition - essentially just to put a few photos in frames! But it looks pretty good and more importantly is on a worthwhile subject. Here's a preview - its called Rising from the Waves and is on here

I wish there were more synonyms for 'thought-provoking'.

If any rich philanthropists are reading this, the gallery really needs some money and I really need a good night's sleep, which I can't get for worrying about our finances.

The cheque

The second cheque arrived on Friday, which meant I was rather drunk when I opened it that night so it took me a few minutes to realise what it was. Quite a lot of zeroes. I didn't notice it until the next day though that in pencil it had 'his name d'ced' written on it. I tried not to cry.