Saying something else

Two things stuck in my memory from the conversations I had over the last few weeks, but to protect her identity, I'm going to call the lady I spoke to by an assumed name. Let's call her Fraunwin.

First Fraunwin said, while we were remeniscing - "...and it was the start of a beautiful friendship". It was quikly followed by "My ass is itchy".

Secondly, Fraunwin was lamenting not living in a proper city. She said, as we walked down Broadway "I miss living in a big city. Watch out for the vomit"

These are valuable things that I'll keep with me always. Thank-you Fraunwin for the colour and wit you injected into the last week and a bit. I almost feel I should give out your real name, so people know who you are.

More beer than I could possibly have drunk

Yesterday evening I went to a bar, and they served us beer in pitchers (about 4pts) for $8 (about 4 pounds sterling). It was all good.

We went to mass this evening, at a Catholic church that has been influenced by certain other, newer Christian churches. There were some shalws being made for the local poor people, and they were brought to the front and blessed by the priest and the congregation. I was a little surprised when everyone in the congregation held out their hands in front of them. I'm not sure why, but it made me feel slightly uncomfortable. After that, a nice man offered us the parish cookbook, for sale at the back fot eh church, and I felt much reassurance.

Tonight we're having stir-fry and mulled wine, and an early night. Tomorrow will be a long day, Braunwin and I fly to New York at 11.15am.

Cats at the Mall

Yesterday, I was made very happy by someone I saw at the mall. He was wearing a red suit with matching hat, and he must have been 70 if he was a day. He was the stereotypical jazz enthusiast, a kind of black George Melly, and I think my trip to America would have been much the poorer for not seeing him. Oh, and I bought a fabulous coat, and lots of clothing, and I think I've got Christmas just about wrapped up.

The day before, we went to a great little greek/general mediterranean restaurant, and they gave us more food than we could possibly have eaten. At lunchtime today we had a sandwich in a local deli. It was more food than we could possibly have eaten. In fact, I've been noticing a theme. We're just off to a local bar for dinner. I'll tell you how it goes tomorrow.

Bagels and liquor, and breaking the law

This morning I had a bagel. I don't think I've ever gone to the trouble of eating a bagel before, and it's a shame, as it was very good. I understand it's a bit like bread, only boiled instead of baked. Mine was filled with egg, cheese and sausage, and was a bit like a more respectable version of the Sausage and Egg McMuffin (tm).

Yesterday at the liquor store, a nice man gave me mulling spice. Because US supermarkets don't sell wine, I could easily have predicted they wouldn't sell mulling spice either, so it wasn't a huge surprise when they didn't. Logically, I thought, they must therefore sell mulling spice where they sell the wine. They didn't either, but they did have some mead that came with promotional mulling spice. About to buy a bottle of mead, purely for the spices around its neck, I was pleasantly surprised when the man took the spices from the neck, and with a simple 'Some people don't use it that way anyway' he handed me the spices and set me on my way. Tonight, Braunwin and I will enjoy some very nice mulled wine because of it.

My rebellious streak has me jaywalking at every opportunity (Yeah! Stick it to the Man!). Oh, and I spent $400 at Best Buy, on an iPod and some other stuff, which isn't even the beginning of the cheap stuff I plan to buy. Don't tell customs...

Great! Viral Meningitis!

Yesterday, I sat and watched two episodes of Seinfeld. I was disappointed to discover it's actually quite funny. The show could do with a quieter laughter track, but then I'm 4 series behind so I probably have a lot of catching up to do.

I went to the bank, and someone offered me chocolates. They were selling cuddly mooses as an incentive to buy some sort of rechargeable credit card. It was all pretty strange.

This evening I'm roasting some pork, and later this afternoon I'm going to the mall. I feel like a proper American.

Hi, I'm over here!

It's currently 4.20pm, which means that I'm about an hour from wanting to go to bed. At first, I thought I hadn't been affected, but when I woke up at 4am on Sunday and couldn't get back to sleep (until about 10 minutes before we had to leave the house, when I was out like a light) I realised roughly what was going on. Apparently it's worse in the other direction. But not as nasty as I thought it might be.

Seeing Braunwin again was great. I know she reads this so I'll not embarass her, but I thought it would be odd being away from someone for 5 months and then just turning up again. It wasn't at all.

America is a little bit odd though. The flags are everywhere, which I'm in two minds about. In some ways it's a shame we can't wave the Union Jack around without being considered psychopathically nationalistic, but, I suppose because of this, the US Flag being everywhere has an air of the psychopathically nationalistic about it. But the people are all very friendly (with the excpetion of the immigration guy, who just grunted at me, despite the sign at immigration that said 'We pledge to give you a warm welcome to our country), and can't do enough to help. The shoes are cheap and well-built, as are the sandwiches. The buses all seem to run on time, there are no problems with traffic, and I don't think I've seen anyone who appears to be genuinely poor (though some people are less rich than others). But it all seems a bit like Milton Keynes in that respect. Everything works, but it has only served to highlight how I define being British. We revel in the things that don't work. We're constantly complaining about the bloody weather, the traffic, the trains, the government, the weather, the heating, the rubbish collections, the weather, the neighbours, the price of everything, and the weather. But when it's all working...

Anyway, more on that later, sorry this has been so unedited - I'm in a bit of a hurry. New York is from Sunday, and I think that's going to be a different kettle of fish completely. In fact, we've already pencilled in a visit to Pulton Fish Market, so fish might well be involved.

Dalston, Dalston, it's a helluva town!

So tomorrow, I'm throwing off the shackles of working life and of the more earthy regions of North London for a nice country town in New York State. I'll be awake for 25 consecutive hours, I'll be travelling a total of something like 3,500 miles, and by the time I go to sleep that night, I'll be further away from the place I was born than I've ever been before.

I'll be seeing Braunwin for the first time in 5 months. I thought that deserved a new paragraph, as it's a particularly important point.

And I'll have eaten the first fast food meal I've ever eaten from the country that invented it. This doesn't deserve a new paragraph, but I was feeling whimsical. Expect regular updates on how weird America is, though I'll try to remind myself that Brits are just as weird to Americans, and we're both weird to Canadians.

Santa Claus is refracting, through town

I found this:

http://jewel.morgan.edu/~salimian/humor/humor_008.html

and this in reply:

http://www.cyberslayer.co.uk/jokes/joke0395.html

and I realised I was spending far too much time on the internet.

Da dum (bing!) da dum, daaaa dum, da dum....

I have Jaco Pastorius' solo of Amerika rattling round my head for some reason today. It's full of harmonics and interesting noises, driving rhythms and dexterous fingers. Apart from the last one, I hope New York will be much the same.

But why?

Yesterday I spent much money on 6 speakers and a little box to make them all work. After turning the sub up so the room shook, we noticed there was a 'bass boost' button. We decided not to press it. Sometimes I worry that I'm spending large sums of money on things just so I have something to write about here.

Then I said... then she said... then he said...

Yesterday was the 1st annual Jaco Pastorius Birthday Dinner, in Stockwell. Jaco would have been 53, if he were still alive. And he wouldn't have come, even if we'd have invited him. Thanks to Ben and Emma for hosting, and to everyone who came (Ben and Emma, and me, though it would be unseemly to thank myself). I will be looking for hosts for next year's dinner in late November, though volunteers are welcomed beforehand. I'll also be making sure I have some of Jaco's music available, including The Birthday Concert, and some of his solo stuff. I may even have learnt to play some of it by then.

I have a sore head, so I'm going to try to concentrate on work.

December already?

Where did the year go? I've only just stopped putting '03 at the end of dates absent-mindedly! I want to have another go at it, I didn't do it right the first time....

It works! I finally invented something that works!

A database I've been struggling with. But enough about work.

Run Forrest!

This weekend I mostly watched films. I managed to get 2 loads of washing done, and I tidied the flat a bit. Sadly, other than that, I achieved nothing. However, there was plenty of time to reflect, and I've decided to become remarkably stupid, yet good-natured. This way, I'll become the head of a large shrimping corporation, and I'll be able to mow lawns forever. Hopefully, they'll also award me the Congressional Medal of Hono(u)r for being able to pick things up and run with them while being napalmed.

The alternative is getting a job as a school teacher and teaching nice jazz to 7 year olds, and winning the 'battle of the combos' competition. They could make a film about it, 'School of Jazz', they'd call it.

I think I need to draw inspiration from somewhere other than Hollywood films. The problem is, the only other films we have are Almodovar films, so if that's where I want to go, I'll end up a cross-dressing lunatic with an unsigned film script, a penchant for buggery, a shady childhood and an unrequited lust for my closest female friend, despite the fact that she and I are pursuing the same man. And a much more convincing Spanish accent than I currently have.

Schoolteacher it is. Wish me luck.

And now, the end (of the week) is near

And so we face, the final afternoon...

I love weekends. And this weekend I am going to do something useful and productive. Yes, I am. I'll not spend the whole weekend drunk or in front of the playstation, no sir. I'm going to make something of this weekend. Damn right.

Any ideas? No?

Too young to hold on...

This morning Jeff Buckley made me cry. Again. I suppose that's what he's for. Pity he's not such a good swimmer really.

Goodbye, goodbye...

This morning I was blocked from getting onto my train by two people who stood there for fully five minutes. Rather than turn this into a rant about how rude people are in London, I walked round and took another door. She was Spanish, he English I think. She was headed for Gatwick, and he for Hampstead, or Ealing, or somewhere. She wept, and I think he wept too, which was terribly unenglish. In just over four weeks, it'll be my turn, probably at Grand Central Station in New York, so at least the surroundings will be more impressive than Kings Cross Thameslink. I'm dreading it already. I just hope I manage to not think about it enough to enjoy the time I have over there.

Notice of disconnection of supply and legal proceedings

Dear Sir/Madam,

You have not responded to our previous letter (what previous letter!?) regarding your outstanding debt of £869.19. (Outstanding? It's bloody amazing!)....

As it turns out, Emeka, our hairdressing friend from downstairs, left with some debts to pay. The landlord has some drycleaning plan for the shop, but he'll need to settle the bills first. Anyone who has seen the film 'The Man Who Wasn't There' knows what a dangerous business drycleaning can be. Though if it ends with Scarlett Johansson forcing herself upon you in a car, then it's not so bad. Good luck, Mr Patel!

Happy Birthday Jean!

My grandmother turns 80 in a few weeks, and this weekend we all got together to celebrate. It was a very civilised meal in a nice place in Rutland, and there were representatives of all the families there (in a slightly Mafia way). My grandmother sat at the head of the table, grimacing and smoking a cigar, while my dad and my uncle sat either side of her, sporting semi-automatic weapons. No, really.

Ok, perhaps not. But there were lots of my family there, and it was a great opportunity to catch up. Later that evening, after an impromptu visit to a late-night garage on a journey home that saw me lying very comfortably in the boot, my father made some very strong Irish coffee, and then the family disappeared to bed one by one, until my cousins Peter and William and I were the only ones remaining. We watched much 'invader zim' and then decided we were making far too much noise, so we disappeared to the garage for a while. When Peter started phoning William's friends at random, (by this time it was 3.30. 'I didn't wake you did I?') it started getting thoroughly wierd. We went to bed shortly afterwards. Family are so much fun.

The other side

Having berated people for not talking to me, I found myself in another position entirely yesterday evening, in The Cardinal in Victoria. A friend, Ben, and I were sharing a few drinks at the bar and a man began hovering behind us. He was quite tall, gangly perhaps, and had thick NHS style glasses, though they obviously weren't actual NHS glasses, more 'NHS chic'. Ben and I continued to chat, and he continued to hover, until, staring intently at the bar, he shoved his head into the space directly between Ben and me. We stopped talking. After a few seconds, the man, a very drunk Australian, explained. He was having difficulty reading the names of the beers at the bar.

Recovering quickly from the wierdness of the situation, Ben and I retired to a table, where we dined. Later, Ben encountered said Australian. By this time, not only was he having difficulty reading, he was also having some difficulty standing, from Ben's report. Maybe alcohol has its place as a social lubricant. Maybe in the chip shop on Wednesday I should have bought everyone a beer.

In complete contradiction to Monday's post...

I'm now posting twice a day - but it's a short one. My review went very well, and for those of you to whom I can be indiscreet, I'll say more in person. I'm very happy, and liable to be hung over in the morning, if just a little.

Space invaders

I have given up on invading space for entertainment. I have a new human behaviour study. It involves talking to people when they don't expect it.

Yesterday evening I wandered into a chip shop and asked 'So, which end do I queue at?'. Silence. I was tempted to jump the queue forcibly to see if anyone would talk to me then. Or possibly even poke someone in the ribs until they said something, a la Fight Club, where they try to start fights with random members of the public.

If anyone has any suggestions for places where people don't talk to each other, I'd be glad to talk to people there and tell you my findings. I draw the line at between cubicles in public lavatories.

Madam, we must have waffles!

"We must all have waffles forthwith! We must think, and we must all have waffles, and think each and everyone of us to the best of his ability..."

I shall now devote the rest of the day to thinking, without the aid of a waffle.

Behaviour on the tube

I worry about people. Including me. This morning as I left the tube, someone tried to get on before everyone had got off. I had earphones in, so couldn't hear if there was the now ubiquitous 'Please allow passengers off the train first' announcement, but really, people shouldn't have to be told. One man did though. Despite the fact that there was plenty of room, I felt I had a point to prove. As he boarded, we locked shoulders, and I pushed him very firmly off the train again. He really shouldn't need to be told.

I read somewhere that males who exhibit space-occupying behaviour (fighting over arm-rests in the tube, spreading your knees slightly on thin, cramped train and bus seats) are considered more attractive. Perhaps I pushed the guy around as part of some sort of heirarchical ritual, to keep him in his place. Perhaps, had we been friends, I would have picked fleas off him like chimps do, and let him mate with my wife. As Bjork says, theres defen-lydefen-lydefen-lyno lo-gik. Anyway, it made me think. This evening I'm going to go to Brixton tube and walk through a crowd of big nasty-looking drug dealers with determination and indifference to physical contact, a bit like Richard Ashcroft in that Verve video. If I survive it, I'll tell you all about it in the morning.

Write out a hundred times...

I must not rant... Yesterday I was unhappy, but it got happier. Matthew Herbert played a wonderful show last night, sampling 750 people biting an apple during the show, which was an odd one. The music was very entertaining, if exceedingly odd. His attire was very entertaining, if extremely odd. The visuals were also wierd - they were taking the contents of boxes then preparing them like the 'serving suggestion' on the box. It took a Long Time.

This week I have a review. It will consist of me moaning and ranting, and then haggling over pay, I expect, as well as critique of my professionalism and general attitude to work (which is ok, I hope). But at the moment work is going ok, so not too much to moan about. I'm also aware that more people at work know about this site, so I'll be mostly discreet here. I do still think about emigrating, but they've been very accommodating, so I'd be very surprised at my future self if I moved.

Patience is a virtue

I'm not going to post much between now and December. But then I'll try to keep it up to date, as I'll have more to say. Briefly - Thursday's gig went very well, see www.loungewalrus.co.uk/jazz.htm for after-show photos. I spent the enitre weekend playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. There will be geeks out there who tell me the whole game doesn't even take an entire weekend. They can shove it. It's Monday again and next weekend brings my grandmother's 80th celebrations. Tonight I'm selling vegetables to Matthew Herbert fans. And I just burnt my arm rather badly cooking lunch for my colleagues. They can shove it too.

Let me out!

I haven't been posting much, on two timescales.

1) Ever. This is a new thing for me, and I still feel a bit wierd expecting anyone to read this.
2) Recently. I've been very busy. As evidenced by the beautiful new Christmas section of Abel & Cole's catalogue. See www.abel-cole.co.uk. While I'm proud of the company I work for, please don't take this as an encouragement to buy things, I'm not whoring my website even for nice guys like us.

So, Bush got elected again. Anything I say here on the subject will be both poorly informed and repeating something someone else has already said, but I did like the letter in Metro this morning likening it to Alien vs Predator. "Whoever wins, we lose".

And it's not raining in London today, so that's good.

Space - named so for a reason

I found this. http://www.exploratorium.edu/ronh/solar_system/. If the sun was the size of a cantaloupe melon, and it was sat in the forecourt of Charing Cross Station, then the earth would be just over the road, and a millimetre in diameter. Both of them would be trampled by tourists. It gets more interesting later though. Jupiter would be sat on St Martin in the Fields, and would be the right size to play table football with. Pluto would be about the size of a largeish dust particle. It would probably be indistinguishable from the particles being belched out of a taxi outside that theatre where they used to show Les Mis, which is roughly where it would be. The nearest star would be about 2,000 miles away from the melon, so we're talking Rekjavik or somewhere in the Ukraine perhaps. It too would be the size of a cantaloupe melon. Sirius, the Dog Star, would be about 4,500 miles away. Even with a typical star the size of a cantaloupe melon, the galactic centre would be 14 million miles away, slightly further away than the sun is in real life.

Betelgeuse, a Red Giant, would be around 45m in diameter, so it would comfortably fill that theatre where Pluto was. (Imagine one of those next to a cantaloupe melon sized sun, and then tell us more about Global Warming).

The speed of light would be 2.5cm per second, at this scale. Light would take more than two weeks to cross the inside of the M25 from North to South. (Insert bad traffic joke here). Light from the melon at Charing Cross would take a whole year to reach the Scottish Highlands. (Insert 'grim up north' joke here).

Aren't you glad the Sun isn't the size of a cantaloupe melon?

....

On the up side, the band continues to sound ok... And I'm off to Norwich this weekend to see my brother. I haven't seen him in about 8 months, so it's long overdue. And I can't tell you how much I need to get out into the countryside, much as the inhabitants of Norwich may think they live in a city. Now the down side.

John Peel died. I find this slightly upsetting, he was a very interesting man. The world will be just that little bit less so without him. Still, he was 65, and recent earthquakes in Japan killed 31 people and left 100,000 without a home. But I didn't know any of them, and none of them had ever made me laugh.

Ffaction

Don't ask. But I'm assured it was great fun.

My favourite kind of whiskey....

...free whiskey. Yesterday, I approached the Sainsburys checkout with turkey, tinned tomatoes and chickpeas and a bottle of Sainsburys Single Malt Irish Whiskey. The nice lady behind the checkout took the sensor off the bottle, scanned everything and said "£3.60 please". I asked "Are you sure?", and she said "£3.60 please". I wasn't going to insist, so I paid and left. I love apathetic staff.

Drinks at mine from 5pm before Ffaction. If you like, of course.

Scary stuff

I had a pleasant weekend. How was yours?

Today I have been mostly selling pumpkins. Having no idea about jack o' lanterns or the halloween tradition (which is really an American thing, and something I think we only adopted following the Halloween movies) makes it difficult to know exactly how to pitch them. I'm hoping not to be too successful though. If there are any left over I can make a jack o' lantern myself!

Tonight, the big band gets rehearsing for real, and I'm going to be shown up by two astounding bassists. Think I might bow out later this year - I have been with the band 6 years now, including two years since I graduated...

Woohoo! We made it!

And I wasn't sick once! In fact, I think there were only two vomiting incidents altogether, though reports haven't come in from all quarters. Lots of Americans wanted to take pictures of us, but we told them they should look at www.paulcroft.me.uk for pictures, and so should you.

And blogger has been reluctant to take my posts this week, so a quick summary: I'm no longer moving to Toronto. Instead I am working on the possibility of continuing in my job, but taking a fortnight here and there where I'm working from the US and dialling in. I'm looking forward to a pleasant weekend of Dim Sum (a new thing for me) and choons in Old St. possibly followed by rugby in Regent's Park, against our World Cup winning team. Of course, 15 against several thousand might even the odds a little, even if some of the thousands are aged 10 and below and weigh about 20lb each.

The next crawl is the Northern Line. 50 stops in two days. We can do it.

It's tomorrow!

Tomorrow at this time I'll be halfway round the circle line. I'll have visited around 12 public houses, and I'll have a further 13 to go.

Naturally, updates to follow in other parts of the site. If you're not busy, meet us in O'neills on Euston Road at 11am.

Storytime

Imagine if you will, Bob Marley, gambling with a group of religous leaders. He wins a diamond from a rabbi and an emerald from the Dalai Lama. Unfortunately he still has a debt of half the value of the diamond to the Pope. In order to repay his debt, he has to jump up and down on the diamond until it breaks.

Later, he's having dinner with Mike Tyson and Lee Harvey Oswald. Oswald has ordered a green salad, but Tyson has had three courses, and wants everyone to pay the same. Bob encourages Oswald to pay his share, because, even if it isn't fair, if Tyson gets angry, everyone gets a slice.

He later wrote a song about it. 'We're jammin, I won the gem of a jew, we're jammin, jammin', and I hop the light gem in two, Woah, Lee, man's Iron, woah, lee, man's Iron. Just split the bill, man's, iron."

It seemed funnier last night.

My name is mimic...

This morning I found the only good thing about having a cold. Last night I watched Gladiator. This morning, with a hoarse throat, I was able to quote Russell Crowe very convincingly, albeit with a slight Noel Coward in the background.

"My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next. " (cough, splutter)

And other than the coughing, I've had a very pleasant day. But I'll have more fun things to say tomorrow.

Home for a while in the old count-e-ry

I'm going back to Corby for the weekend. this is good as I'll be able to see my folks, relax and generally unwind. It is bad, because nothing interesting enough to report ever happens in the sleepy village of Corby Glen. However, this is exactly the kind of weekend I feel I could do with. I hope to have some fun news on Monday anyway.

Have a lovely weekend everyone (everyone being a sum total of about five people, I reckon).

Artificial Incredulity

Jabberwacky: My name is Er.
User: Really. What's your mum's name?
Jabberwacky: I cany remember.
User: I can. I remember every detail.
Jabberwacky: Remembering is different than knowing.
User: True. I know your mum, and I remember her.
Jabberwacky: Dad is dead.
User: Nope. I'm your daddy.
Jabberwacky: No you are not!
User: Come on, say it. Who's your daddy?
Jabberwacky: You are my daddy!
User: I certainly am.
Jabberwacky: You are not a yam.
User: Otherwise you'd be half yam.
Jabberwacky: I remember the ZX80! It wasn't much of a computer.
-------------------------
Speak to my son at www.jabberwacky.com. Much of this post has been deleted, as I fear it may be found offensive by some. This is a family site, even the link to the pornoliser contains no rude words.

Just missed it...

I'm ashamed to say I was terribly excited at the prospect of a new Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy series on Radio 4 yesterday. I was all ready to set up internet radio and sit at work, listening until 7pm. The opportunity for free food came up though, and I had to take it. So I whiled away a pleasant evening with Gary, Todd, Erin and Tiffany, in a local pizzeria/bar, all on the company. I'll be eagerly awaiting the repeat tomorrow at 11pm - probably with some devious plan to capture it on MP3 (sorry, Douglas' estate).

Yo ho ho

Another weekend, another opportunity to get embarassingly drunk. Not before an hour and a half on the phone to the US, which put me in a remarkably good mood. So I dressed as similar to a pirate as I could, and packed the grog in my bag. Half a bottle of Captain Morgan's later, I'm being clumsy and indiscreet, so come midnight, I decide it's probably best to be asleep. Curse you, alcohol, for making me buy kebabs.

On the upside, it was the dry run for the fancy dress on October 2nd, and it all looks promising. And it gave me an excuse not to leave the house on Sunday, which is fast becoming my favourite way to spend Sunday. And, if nothing else, a bottle of rum is considerably less expensive than visits to 25 pubs in Central London, and with much the same result.

Me and my TV

The week when I decide to start letting the entire world know what I do with my life turns out to be one of the most boring ones I've ever spent in London. Saturday excepted (it was marvellous) I haven't been out and had fun for about two weeks. It's a blunt reminder of just how dull TV really is. If the week was normally like this for me, I'd know why Andy from Eastenders is such an angry little man. I'd know why Vernon Kay has a TV show. I'd know why Channel 4 won an Emmy for news coverage.

I'm glad I don't.

And I'm having real trouble not watching NY/LON. It's getting great reviews, not just from TimeOut, but from people I know, but I have this terrible feeling it'll just upset me.

My head hurts...

Work's annual staff picnic was this weekend, and involved a lot of drinking and a lot of eating. Paul came along and joined in, and a fair few people got just a little untidy, though nothing like last year.... Managing to pace myself for a change, Paul and I returned home, in order to prepare to go out again, in Brick Lane, where we stayed until 1.30am. Not content with 13 hours of fun, Rob, Paul and I jumped into a taxi and headed off to Canvas in King's Cross, where we carried on until leaving; me at a rather pathetic 3.30am, Rob and Paul at a slightly more respectable 4.45am. I'm a simple country lad, and unused to the ways of the city. I hurt.

Later on this afternoon I'm leaving work early to find a pirate costume for the weekend. All I really want is a mug of cocoa, a warm bath and a good night's sleep...

Take it away, Maestro

I've been waiting all week for a replacement debit card, following the disappearance of mine, mysteriously, before I boarded a train back from Lincolnshire. On the upside, it saved me £22 on train fares, along with the stupidity and incompetence of the train staff. On the downside, I've had no money all week. On the upside of this, I've had a great week and spent no money. Thanks to Caroline for her generous loan. Thanks to Alec for paying for lunch yesterday, and not even asking.

The switch card arrived this morning. At lunchtime, I'll be spending a total of £350 on plane tickets and frivolous electrical goods.