Annual family get together

A mere 20 hours after the ranting, half baked nonsense below, I find myself at the end of an evening of roast goose, potatoes, stuffing, cabbage, carrots and cauliflower, organic duchy original christmas pudding and brandy butter (the pudding from last year, no less!) and some viennetta type thing, Canadian wine (we all know Canadians make the best wine (the white was pretty dodgy but the red was excellent), along with growing the best bananas) and my sister's raspberry vodka. Today also included some violent kite scudding, some excellent kiteboarding and a couple of minor jumps (woohoo!) and a brief visit from my grandmother and auntie, who were on usual good form.

My family were better company than they've ever been for about half an hour after the meal, but then someone suggested watching Casualty, and all the priorities got mixed up. One day, we'll go out and ignore the TV, just for one evening.... Ithink I'll go and pour a whisky for my mother.

And apparently my mother always buys fairtrade tea,but never buys free range eggs because she doesn't eat that many eggs.

Home, home on the range

I'm off home for the weekend, to take in some fresh country air, to eat and drink and be merry with my three siblings and my parents, and to generally take a break from London. There will almost certainly be nothing exciting to say on Monday about the weekend, and this weekend, that's how I like it.

Sleeping, waking, dreaming

Last night I saw the clock show 2am, 4am and 5.30am. By the last one I had resigned myself to being awake until the proper morning. In fact, most nights have been really patchy since I dreamt about Terry Wogan. Maybe somewhere in the dark depths of the mind, I do genuinely think some sort of Dream Wogan is trying to kill me?! Maybe by sleeping for an hour or two at a time, I'm trying to escape from the evil Irish assassin, by not ever giving him long enough to find me and kill me? Maybe I should take back what I said about Frank Sinatra?

Birthday

Meat
Peri-peri chicken from Nandos

Drink
Too much. Started with beer, then a drop of whisky, then more beer, then more whisky. And the 'Desperado' tequila flavoured beer probably didn't help.

Company
Chris, Rob, Claudia, Ted, Ryan, Paul and Michelle, Ben and Emma, Dulcie and James, Erin and Ruscoe, Guy and Caroline, James, Fabien, Tom, Shane and Lore(sp?).

Headache in the morning
Headache in the afternoon. Little morning to speak of.

Memorable topics of conversation
Being a Guardian reader, tequila in beer - only the French, Bop-it, Flick-it, Pull-it, Twist-it, Spin-it, the best whisky ever, 'f*ck this book', why everything is shit, we-haven't-met-up-in-ages, getting old, 'Shut up Rob, if you value your carpets, shut up' (Sorry Rob).

Weather, Sport, TV
None. The whole thing was indoors, and without exercise of any kind. The TV remained off.

A good 8/10 I think - would have been improved by careful pacing, but definitely a good evening. Thanks to everyone who came, I had a great time.

I take it back

I still feel more 20 than 30.

Last post of my early twenties

Tomorrow morning, I'll wake up and, in the eyes of the law at least, I'll be 26 years old (I was born at 9.30pmish, so strictly speaking...). I'll finally have to admit I'm closer to thirty than twenty (though that's been true for almost a year already). But, like Canute desperately trying to hold back the sea, I'll be having a party tomorrow evening, and I'll keep up the denial that I'm an adult for another few hours. Perhaps we'll play pass the parcel?

4 is the magic number

I still haven't figured out what a meme is, butMichelle asked me to get involved in one, so I'm going to. And since 4 is the magic number, I was even more eager.

4 jobs you've had in your life
1) This one, doing numbers for an organic fruit and vegetale delivery company.
2) A week as a caretaker on a housing estate in Bethnal Green
3) Two weeks on a weighbridge at a grain store in Lincolnshire
4) Three months as a postal clerk for an insurance company in Peterborough.

4 movies you could watch over and over
1) O Brother, Where Art Thou?
2) Fargo
3) The Big Lebowski
4) The Man Who Wasn't There (spot the theme...)

4 TV shows you love to watch
1) ....

The thing is, when I lived in Lincolnshire, there was nothing else to do, and my parents had Sky. Now I live in London I don't even get proper reception on Five, so I've 4 channels to choose from. And they all tend to peddle crap. I'm going to do Radio 4 comedies instead.

1) I'm sorry I haven't a clue
2) Just a Minute
3) The Now Show
4) Hancock's Half Hour (sadly no longer broadcasting, following the death of Hancock some 40 years ago).

4 places you've lived
1) Corby Glen, in Lincolnshire - four different houses, but all within about 200m of each other.
2) Central London - Charlotte St, then Gower St, then Hampstead Road
3) Islington/Dalston borders - King Henry's Walk
4) South London - an indifferent experience in Streatham, but Tooting seems to suit me.

4 places you've been on vacation to
I'm going to be rubbish at this one.
1) Everywhere in France. Seriously, name a major city, I've probably been through it in a car towing a caravan.
2) Barcelona - we went for a week, and were a little disappointed by the Cathedral. On the bus on the way back, someone showed us some photos, and we found out we'd got the wrong one.
3) New Orleans, last March - I still remember looking at the Mississippi and looking at Jackson Square, about 6ft below it, and thinking something wasn't right. But who could have known?
4) New York - probably my favourite city in the world, so far, but Beijing might win me over in May.

4 places you would rather be
1) At home in bed
2) In New York, eating.
3) At the top of a hill, with a force 3-4 breeze and my kite.
4) Sometimes, back in Lincolnshire in 1996 telling a 16 year old me to take A-level music, and to pull his finger out.

4 of your favourite foods
1) Cheese on toast, as given 'nuff respec' by Roots Manuva.
2) Curry - Indian or Chinese flavour, and Thai curry is beginning to win me over too
3) Homemade sushi. For sentimental reasons, and because it's filling but not fattening.
4) Nachos.

4 websites you visit daily
1) B3ta.com - funny.
2) Google News - news.
3) The Onion - alternative news.
4) Airmonkeys.co.uk - kites.

Good.

And then last night...

...I had a dream about Terry Wogan. Why, I don't know. What, I don't know. But I woke with a very clear sense of Wogan in my mind, that wasn't attached to anything else. And then as I drove to work this morning I saw Terry's face on a billboard at the end of the road.



Perhaps Frank Sinatra sent him to kill me?

My meeting with Frank Sinatra

On Friday night, I had a dream. I met Frank Sinatra. And I was chatting to him about his music, and his amazing talent. And I said "Yesterday at the office, we were listening to you sing Mack the Knife, and it was really excellent. I mean, there's a deep, rich quality to your voice, and listening to it is like having warm butter poured into your ear, without the nasty side effects". He seemed pleased, though I don't remember what he said. I never seem to remember the things other people say in dreams, they tend to just be there. That's probably indicative of something, though I can't be bothered to figure out what. Anyway.

"But afterwards", I continued, "We listened to Ella Fitzgerald sing the same song. And you know what? She pisses all over your version."



He took it quite well, considering his Mafia connections. I expect to be assassinated in my dreams by the end of the week. Unless I can get some of Ella's connections to help keep me safe.

When turning right, think Bike

Yesterday evening, while walking to our local Sainsburys, I saw a car stop to let another car out of a side road. The other car was turning right, which it did, oblivious to the motorbike overtaking the car that had stopped to let the second car out. The motorbike hit the car, there was a revving of engine and a crunching sound and the man on the bike was thrown to the floor. He got up, all was fine - it was a shame though, it looked like a nice bike.

Later, in Sainsburys, I bought some MSC certified New Zealand Hoki, cause I liked the connection to yesterday's post.

Some amusing anecdotes from the weekend

Listening to Radio 4 on Saturday morning, I heard Adam Hart-Davies investigating laughing gas and Humphrey Davy. He was chatting to a dental anaesthetist, or something like that, who was telling him about concerns of recreational use of nitrous oxide, but among other things, Hart-Davies said "Come on then, turn it up and tell me a joke."

The anaesthetist said "Ok, I'm turning you up to 60% now. Tell you a joke? Well, how much are the BBC paying you to do this?" "That's not a joke", replied Hart-Davies, and collapsed into hysterical laughter.

Then there was the Russian festival, where they had written Happy New Year in Russian on Nelson's Column, with lasers. Only they'd taken a single Cyrillic character that looked a bit like two Roman Characters, and split it into the Roman characters. As a consequence, it didn't read right, and they didn't have enough room for one of the letters at the bottom. Effectively, Nelson's column read "Happy Nevv Yr". Quite aside from Ken's meeting with the somewhat unwholesome Mayor of Moscow, in which (we later decided) Ken said "I'd like to symbolise the synergy between our two cities, by accepting this brown envelope full of unmarked, non-sequential hundred dollar bills."

And then there was the Hokey Pokey (the American version of the English original, the Hokey Cokey), in the style of a Shakespearean sonnet. Courtesy of Radio 4, talking about the Washington Post's Style Invitational (you'll need to regiister and search to read articles).

O proud left foot, that ventures quick within
Then soon upon a backward journey lithe.
Anon, once more the gesture, then begin:
Command sinistral pedestal to writhe.
Commence thou then the fervid Hokey-Poke,
A mad gyration, hips in wanton swirl.
To spin! A wilde release from Heavens yoke.
Blessed dervish! Surely canst go, girl.
The Hoke, the poke -- banish now thy doubt
Verily, I say, 'tis what it's all about.

Lies, damn lies and London restaurant reviews

Yesterday lunchtime I scanned the internet for restaurants in the Marylebone area, where I would be having dinner with a friend that evening. I came upon a review of 'The Golden Eagle' (I think), that described it as a 'Gastropub' with excellent food, slightly slow service and a good selection of real ales. 'Ideal' I thought.

The evening went striaght to food in the end and we decided to pick somewhere at random, but happened upon a pub on the corner called, wouldn't you know, 'The Golden Eagle'. I said 'I've heard of this place, apparently it has excellent food' and we went in. Looking at the bar snacks menu (a disappointing list of pasties, sausage rolls and pies) I asked the barman if they did any other food. A little shaky-looking and obviously a few pints into his evening, he replied that he'd just check. 'We've got two cheese and onion pasties and a spring roll left' he said. We made our excuses and left.

Here's the only review of the place I can find this morning. I'd go back, but I'd probably eat before I got there...

Comedy: The Bedford, Balham, last night

For £3, we got 2 and a half hours of entertainment, of variable quality, but with plenty to shout about. Highlights include:

- Stephen Hawking portrayed as King of the Daleks, with the Daleks bowing down to him and not being able to get up afterwards.
- Bad Italian wine inducing facial expressions from across the Italian Gangster movie spectrum.
- Buying medieval cannons on eBay under the influence of alcohol.
- Getting discount from insurance under the Acts of God clause, if you're an atheist. Furthermore, claiming drunkenness while causing a road accident is due to all of the water in your body being miraculously changed to wine.
- The girl at the front of the room being very drunk, and the possible consequences of this.

I can highly recommend the Bedford's Tuesday night comedy, and I'll be sure to be there again soon!

Waiting On Dwarfs - The Vortex, Jan 7th 2006

I really like jazz. But I think I like the sort of jazz that would be Steps or Westlife if it was pop. Well maybe the Beatles or Sting or someone. You know, reasonably credible, but not 'specialist'.

Waiting on Dwarfs are distinctly specialist, so we stood at the back of the room and drank lots of red wine. Some muscial highlights included a couple of very nicely executed bass solos, and discovering that the reason I thought it was a viola was because the violinist was so little - though a friend of his suggested it was because I would normally have seen him in the Royal Albert Hall, and not a little room in Dalston. The second set was more crowd pleasing, but it's all relative. If you want something challenging and unusual in your jazz, go and see them. If, like me, you want something to tap your foot to, or unlike me, something to dance to, don't.

Later, we went to the Dalston Jazz Bar, where there was much grabbing of groin, and uttering of 'J'habite'. I cannot satisfactorily explain why.

An astronomical observation

Today marks the Earth's perihelion. This is when the elliptical orbit of the Earth takes us closest to the Sun, a mere 147,100,000km. The aphelion is 152,100,000km, a difference of 5,000,000km. So why is it so cold today?

You are what you whinge on about

I really don't like Dr Gillian McKeith. Yesterday, as I walked into the room with a curry, some naan and a beer, she was listing 12 things which are 'naughty' foods. 3 of them were Indian takeaways, white bread and alcohol. I refuse to be told I'm naughty by someone who tells people their poo isn't good enough, and wanders up to strangers, grabs their bellies and tells them they're fat. When I eat a curry or drink a can of Heineken, I know it's 10 minutes off the end of my life, and I don't care! And as for telling us all that being overweight and unhealthy is unattractive, what about being obnoxious, self-righteous and patronising?

...and breathe...

New Year

Meat
Some excellent Thai curried chicken. I'm already trying to find a paste to replicate it myself.

Drink
A couple of cans of Grolsch. Well, 3. Then the Wellington, three pints of London Pride. Then the Talbot. A few more pints of something or other. Some Champagne. Someone's leftover Guinness. Then back to the flat. Some vodka, possibly another beer or two. A short nap then some port and a cup of tea.

Company
Rob, Chris, Shane, Tom, Marina, Charlie, Jez and his girlfriend whose name I forget (sorry). Excellent to a man.

Headaches
Yes.

Memorable topics of conversation
Developing contempt for me on meeting me, it saves time, where to buy coconut milk, borrowing money, world of meat, world of wine and beer, lesbian leopards, Pride vs IPA, Swedish stereotypes, London is wonderful, Rob is from everywhere, what people 'do' (so, what do you do?), lots of pretty people, the Franco-Prussian war, the films of Sandra Bullock, 'We'll find you a nice man' 'I'm not gay though', 'Happy New Year', do you mind that we didn't go to that party?, 'I have a boyfriend, but...', where has Shane gone? and then it all breaks down into kebabs, vodka and numbness.

Weather
Cold but not too cold. Light showers.

Sport
There is a distinct possibility I danced.

TV
None

Overall an 8.5, due to the complete absence of television, and because the conversation was mostly excellent, if sometimes a little silly. The vodka was a bad idea, but it always is, and we always do it.