Obey!

Well, another Christmas Day out of the way. I had limited cooking capability (due to a broken finger) so much of the work was handled by my hubby and sister. A very pleasant meal was had followed by the Christmas Special 'Doctor Who'. In turns, and sometimes together, an entertaining and intense script. With a good companion and a good Doctor, when awake. It felt most like the Episode 'Rose' written for the Doctor with a more solid foundation for everyone.

All in all I was most pleased!

I also received a Dalek, Slitheen and CE Doctor Walkie Talkies, a TARDIS money box and an associated publication. Far more than I was expecting!

No good deed goes unpunished!

The Quiet before Christmas

Was pretty much lacking for us at Gay Gables. There was an incident where I obtained a broken finger (my own) and much dissaray was scattered through the house. I shall gloss over the events but they were rather unwelcome. Also my sister stayedm there was a choral recital in the style of Ethel Merman and much Pizza and wine at the Departmental Christmas Shindig. The Office meal went well at the Crown public house (108 Blackfriars Road, London) and much merriment was had.

And now to see what Satan brings.

Sorry, 'Santa'.

Nuntastic!

Well the party was had, the drinks drunk, the nibbles eaten, the Sing-along-a-Sound-of-Music was Sung-along-a-Sound-of-Music. The music was played, the fur coats dropped, the boas brought, the Therapist and Killer Penguin provided, the punch drunk, the Whiskey exhaled, the hilarity caused, the tears wept, the sides split, the unconsciousness unconsciousnessed on the hallway floor, the departures, the taxis booked, the strange man visiting some chap called Bella called at the door and the entertainment shaken till the life had gone, gone, gone.

Rose tint my world is all I can say!

Thanks to Daniel, Dave, Steve, Chris, Rob, Alan, Kim, and Dave II the revenge.

Of course particular thanks to my darling Diva Stropp and The Lady herself of course

XXX GP

All Change!

Well the party was all organised for Friday night. Appropriately nun themed invites went out at high speed and all was made rapidly ready. And then I got a text from TLMR informing me that she had just been made redundant. Now, the primary reason for moving was to be closer to work. Plainly this was no longer the case and, of course, there were some nunning, sorry nagging suspicions about the new flat and its inhabitants. Under the circumstances the move was cancelled and she stayed with us.

Hooray!

We’re still having the party though.

Hooray!

Sister Sunday.

Well she's on her way back, finally! It's taken a little while but she's back from Thailand. On the day she's due back she's arriving at 7.30am... On a Sunday . I live in London, one of the largest and most cosmopolitan cities in the world and am a non-Christian. It is a bugbear for me that I cannot travel to places easily on a Sunday as on any other day. If it were any other day I'd just go there on the Tube but at 6am I have to go by two busses and the Heathrow Express. It's the same with shopping. On Sunday it is still illegal to sell a Bible, or Fish & Chips. And you still cannot have shops open as normal in case we're struck down with rampant hedonism. Honestly!

The Departure of The Lady Miss Roberta! (Or 'Get Thee To The Nunnery!)

Another shock, with The Lady rather spontaneously deciding to leave Gay Gables to go and live with three other girls and a 'Landlady' who objects to people 'stopping overnight'. We have come to the conclusion that the place is some kind of nunnery, the 'Landlady' is a Mother Superior and her room is a monastic (or should that be nuntastic!) cell. Needless to say we're getting her 'appropriate' presents. IE a foot long 'Jeff Stryker' a 'tomato' plant and a still.
She's moving this Saturday and it's going to be a bit of a wrench. She'll be around on Sunday for lunch so it fortunately won't be a clean break.

A party has been organised at very short notice for her leaving. The theme is vaguely nuns and I shall be making my Compline Cocktail to obliterate any survivors.

Magical

I now have my Blackberry killer. The SPV M5000. It's quite similar to my previous phone (the SPV M1000) except a little larger and considerably more snazzy with a good quality fold out keyboard and improved connectivity with a direct USB port which also charges from there, the same SD/MMC card slot and this time a standard size headphone socket, perfect for speakers on trips away! I'm rather pleased with it, though as ever it's taking a little adjustment. There are some differences with the interface which take a little getting used to. To all intents and purposes it's a tiny laptop which even has Wi-Fi so in the right places you can get internet without costly call charges. As with all these things it takes getting used to but the potential is enormous. We will have to see if it's glamour fades! And my sister’s getting my old one!

The After Morning from the Before Night. A story of time and space travel.

Well, yesterday was, as I mentioned, the 42nd anniversary of the creation of Doctor Who. It's quite startling when I can remember the 20th anniversary so clearly. We had the lovely Rob round for one of my usual sizeable dinners consisting of Garlic Roasted Potatoes, Roasted Roots, mixed veg, Pot Roast of Brisket and gravy followed by Black and White Bread and Butter Pudding. This was assisted by substantial quantities of red wine and cava to the point that the Hot Chocolate with Brandy became somewhat redundant. We also had The Web of Fear on the box follwed by some music/Who clips, and the end of The Doctor Dances with a finale of the Extra on the DVD Making The Christmas Invasion. All very entertaining. We also got another additional guest, a friend called JP who works with The Lady and much merriement was had therof. He, having rejected the pudding outright, proceeded to wolf it down in quantity. Motto: always try things when away from home, you never know you might like them!

Tonight on the other hand should be a much quieter affair with wholesome soup and bread rolls followed by some pennance and Stargate Atlantis.

I feel quite pure and virginal!

Saturday 23rd of November 1963

For those of you not in the know, it is the 42nd anniversary of the start of Doctor Who. As a fan this is quite significant to me, particularly since we came so close to the programme disapearing from the schedules forever or, maybe worse still being produced as a high budget, plot thin, special effecs extravaganza that the Fox network would have produced. In spite, or maybe because of its unfortunate and unloved recent past it was farmed out to BBC Wales and given, as a last ditch attempt to woo him to the Beeb, to Russel T Davis. He has managed to turn the series into the most successful series on the BBC for 2005 and probbably the most successful so far in the 21st Century, considering how it trounced all the others at awards. It appeals to young children, teens, twentysomethings, pensioners, girls, boys, familes and poofs.

And you can't say many things that do!

Flurry of updates!

I think the problem with blogging is that I have problems with updating it regularly. I write it all down but then have problems with getting it onto the web. I also end up providing updates that sometimes seem less than pithy and which do not seem to be up to my usually high quality. Such a perfectionist eh? Anyway, this is by way of explaining why my entries (phnarr phnarr!) seem so inconsistent and have so many gaps.

I soon hope to resume normal service and apologise for any incovenience!

Bacon & Egg sandwiches

Aren't they the Acme of civilization? Just when you're really hungry in the morning, there's a café on the horizon which serves this food of the gods. It's at times like this that I realise that this is one of the many things I'll miss if I do have a sabbatical in Thailand. On the other hand I'm sure I'd be able to cope with a year by a beach. These are the sacrifices one must make.

Anyway, you can come and visit!

I'm blogging...

Well, now I'm doing it it seems quite cathartic, getting some of my thoughts down on electrons. sometimes it's easier to do than others but on the whole quite enjoyable!

Frantic Friday

Another casual walk across the Heygate estate avoiding the pimps, murderers, drug dealers and prostitutes. Has to be said that I only saw mothers and fathers taking their children to school rather than the underbelly of society. There were also cleaners who, I have to say, I admire enormously. They do a good job in the face of some of the nastiest stuff stuck to the pavement I can imagine. Frankly I’m always impressed by anyone at work 2-3 hours before me who’s also earning a pittance.

Thanks to all those people who keep our streets clean. If you weren’t there London would be much nastier.

Cloves and Spices

TLMR (The Lady Miss Roberta) has toothache, bless her and is going to have a tooth out on Monday. I considermyself to be very fortunate with my teeth having had the flouride treatments as a child and now have no fillings and no teeth pulled out. See not bad eh, 33 years old and nothing but a bi-yearly scrape of the teeth! On the other hand it does leave me with little knowledge of dental pain apart from one excruciating visit to a locum dentist who scraped at my gums rather than my teeth leaving me in some pain and not a little amount of blood in my mouth. Anyway I’m purchasing her some oil of cloves to deaden the pain and some Tea Tree oil as the base of an antibiotic rinse. Herbalist Goddess at work!
I shall also be making Curried Parsnip soup for its palatability and the fact that it should be able to be tasted above the cloves. Culinary Goddes also at work!
Queen Orlandina (Diva Stropp to many) is plainly enjoying his new work. Wonderful to watch someone pull their way out of depression with such a positive attitude. Certainally it’s going down well at our work where the words Breath of Fresh Air are bandied around with alarming regularity.

And I just got £60 out of my previous broadband provider who neglected to stop billing me. That should cover the Guilbert and Sullivan Boxed set I’ve ordered.

What never? No never!

Banging like November the 5th

An enjoyable time was had by all over the weekend. Saturday night was spent enjoying the fireworks at Tate Modern (Photo’s on http://moblog.co.uk/view.php?id=30754 ) as well as special hot chocolate (with brandy) and mulled wine (also with brandy) and then Sunday we had a lovely Beef Stroganoff (also with brandy, is a pattern forming here?). Sunday was supposed to be a visit to Brighton Pier for the Doctor Who Exhibition closing ceremony but The Lady Miss Roberta had toothache so I (as Goddess) took an executive decision that it was pissing it down and we were going to stay in and indulge. One episode of Buffy and the extended Lord of the Rings, Return of the King later and we felt much stuffed, wined, dined and relaxed.

All in all a positive but relaxing weekend. Just what we needed.

Now time to manage my life!

Another 'Interesting' night!

Well, it's all go at 'Gay Gables'. About 9pm last night a friend of a friend turned up begging for a bed for the night, her partner being in hospital and them both suffering some domestic strife from their neighbors.
She is also 7 months pregnant which does not help! Couldn't turn her away obviously so she stopped over. After that the neighbors suddenly kicked off with with what sounded like screaming, swearing and fighting. The police were called and much further yelling ensued. On top of this Diwali was being celebrated last night with all the associated fireworks banging around during the night. Sometimes London takes it out of me!

The area of London I live in is pretty close to Elephant & Castle which is about 10 mins walk south of London Bridge and Waterloo. I love living here. To be so close to the centre of town is wonderful despite the associated problems. As a friend who lives in Herne Bay said, "We don’t have anything like that here... Just murders."

Not so much burning from both ends, more like candles on a bonfire!

It has occurred to me that despite my best intentions we have had guests every single day this week. All impromptu and all very welcome but ultimately unexpected. We have more tonight and possibly Friday. Relax at the weekend? Brighton with friends this Saturday and hopefully seeing my friend Nosh who I haven’t seen properly for months! Next week? Orlando (my hubby) starting a new job in the same place I work and some expected visits by some people we haven't seen in ages. Then visiting the in-laws, Halloween, Guy Fawkes Night etc.

Eviscerated

Well it’s been a little while since I updated mainly due to a whole combination of circumstances. I had several cases of bad news (that relates to other people so I won’t discuss it here without their agreement). I then went down with Salmonella food poisoning and a rather sensitive stomach, which, for me, takes a bit of getting used to as normally it’s like a galvanised bucket. I’ve had far more days off sick than I’d like and tried going into work yesterday and, well, the only appropriate word I can give is “BLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOORRRRRP!” from my stomach, so I came home. Today I sit tucked up with dry toast and water.

I’ve had more fun in my life.

On the other hand, everyone is being very supportive, particularly since they’re all down with colds.

Oh well, Bird Flu on the way. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to fill in the Blog again before I expire!

The Writing on the Wall

It appears that Ms Zimmer has arrived. Having heard that I was on a mission of mercy she appears to have decided to join me, one hopes to provide support rather than any satanic motive. She also has managed to procure three sets of club class tickets for our return to Blighty. If I didn't know her better I would wonder how a pensioner could afford it but I remember some mention yesterday of pilots losing control over planes on a particular airline which then abated suddenly.

Perhaps I'm too cynical.

She also appears keen on attending the Full Moon Party, something I feel little need to do, apart from mitigate any disasters that may occur due to Miss Zimmer’s presence.

It is possible.

Also my niece is insisting on attending. She so reminds me of my Great Grandmother in her stubbornness. I still remembering that she believed you could cure Syphilis by rubbing the affected area with Borax and a Brillo pad, she would not be told otherwise. She ultimately died of heavy metal poisoning from ingestion.

Such a shame, but a woman with principle.

Recovery

I am exceedingly grateful Ms Zimmer is not here at the moment. I am not sure but I think I must have been suffering with some kind of heatstroke. I am having a rather putrid head. On the other hand, I have met up with my niece who found me and brought me to her home. It appears I may have been working under a misapprehension. It appears that she is merely on holiday out here and she, on questioning believes that she may have sent her communiqué under the influence of heatstroke. I do hope I did not put anything unexpected or untoward in my electronic mail. I shall communicate at sundown.

Good Samaritan

I have been looking for my niece this morning and have just broken my fast with a mixed fruit shake which the proprietor indicates is 'Very good, very good' and indeed it appears excellent with an unusual flavour. It is very refreshing though which is excellent in this climate. I feel most relAxed apart for the urgent search for my guru where I want to discuss my mystical realities and follow the yellow brick road clear to the emmerrraled sity which is flying past on the back of a ginat orange swan which has me in it's green beak and flying aand fllyyy. Where is the light. Love yoooooooooop Battttttyyy, BATTyy batbat.

Madness Ahoy!

I awoke again this morning and was shocked to find that I was again in a hammock and it was almost the middle of the day, I suppose I may be coming down with something.

I also appear to have eaten almost four pounds of Kendal Mint Cake.

And, it appears, tried to barbeque a dog on the balcony. There is evidence of sooting and my 'Jane’s Girls Guide to Life' book was firmly folded over to the chapter 'How to eat in the wild'. The dog is also looking at me rather reproachfully.

I do hope that I'm not going mad, again.

Lady in the Wild

As I’m sure you would put it, Chlamydia, I'm adventurous and not deterred by challenge but when I was called upon to rescue my niece from torment of Suncliff Prison in Thailand I immediately made arrangements, booked flights, cancelled the cat and had the papers put out. I sallied forth on a murky day in August and jetted to an uncertain destination. Sadly my niece's correspondence was a little incoherent. Apparently she is deprived of toilet paper and instead has some kind of water spray. Her letter also indicated other tortuous practices which I don’t care to mention. I will, however, say that she has to drink from buckets and had every joint in her body pulled apart. For this reason, I have travelled across continents to rescue her.

I arrived at the island neighbouring my destination and was surprised to be informed that there was no prison on Koh Phangan. There was an area called Suncliff near the main town of Haad Rin. Unfortunately the jet lag took its toll and after the herbal cigarette I was offered to calm my nerves I went right off to sleep. In a hammock as it turned out. Something I haven't done since I was in the Turkish Navy!

The jet-lag obviously was far more taxing than I thought as, when I awoke, it was just before 6 O'clock on the day after I had arrived. I hurriedly took my leave of the group who I had left the aeroplane with and headed for the boat. The crossing was uneventful and relatively inexpensive though my position near the engine was quite 'distracting' to both myself and the other female travellers. and after 45 minutes I disembarked into the frighteningly strange world of Koh Phangan. From what I could see, and the sun had just set by this stage, the main street seems to be very 'rural' in appearance in terms of construction though there are signs of concrete, Mr Macadam would be turning in his grave! The wiring along the streets seems to be a little inexpert with crackling and fizzing in progress which was more than a little disturbing not to say static inducing. I have found lodgings in an establishment just to the east of the main town which has barely serviceable sleeping arrangements and was able to Breville a cheese and ham toastie for me enabling me not to have to break into the bars of Kendal Mint Cake you had sequestered on my person before I left. Anyway it's quite late so I am going to rest with a cup of tea and some cake that a neighbour has kindly offered me.

The following is a flavour of Vitriol and Old Lace.

You can see more, if you are inclined at www.vitriolandoldlace.com. For those not in the know it involves the correspondence between two silver surfers who attempt to 'manage' a number of ladies in their charge. Maybe mitigate would be a better word....

Monsoon, Mosquitos and Migraines.

There are occasionally downsides to being out here. The first is the rainy season. Out on the islands this is not nearly so severe but can mean extra humidity and unsettled weather. The second is Mosquitos which are more prevalent during the rainy season. You can guard against them by taking extra Vitamin B supplements 2 weeks before traveling (which I didn't get the chance to do) and using insect repellent. However sometimes they stll munch when in the more jungley areas, for example, where my sisters bungalow is located. The final one is remembering to increase your water intake otherwise you tend to start getting headaches. I am currently recovering from one with a Papaya & Lemon shake and lots of water.

You like Arsenal?

Was the query at the bungalow where I'm staying. This was after I had been told by the Thai lady running the place had positively commented on my choice of atire and my use of colour and now the surprise that a British ferang wasn’t interested in football I think may have been a revelation. Of course if my hubby was out here we'd have been dancing on the tables but I'm more subtle. Lord knows I'm missing his energy and enthusiasm.

I'm alive

Well I'm here, finally on Koh Phangan in the town of Haad Rin. The weather is a bit variable as it's the rainy season here so there are thunderstorms at night but pretty much it's humid but OK. For a change I'm staying in the main town as my sister is there. It's an interesting place. Many of the benefits of a western town but without the health and safety. For me it's a refreshing change. For others it's a bit of a 'cleaning' of the gene pool with the people who can't understand that licking high voltage wires or riding mopeds while drunk ensure that they have no offspring.
The beach here is lovely and the Thai are charming as ever. I am missing my hubby though, probably more than you can imagine. We've been apart at most for a couple of days over the last four years so this is proving to be a real shock to the system!

Succubus Vs. Airbus

I like flying but after this trip my brain plainly fused as I got off the plane and the question 'What is the difference between a Succubus and an Airbus?' popped into it. Both interrupt your sleep, suck out your vitality and, in short, age and wither you. The differences are that Succubi generally involve sex in some way which despte many tacky illusions does not happen much on planes, that and the fact that you don't get a small tasteless meal from a Succubus every three hours.

Brothers of Mercy

Well here I am having rather hurried visit to Thailand to help and support my sister who's been having a bit of a time over there. So tickets bought, bags packed and focus completely mislaid. I've never had to do anything like this before at such short notice, or for that matter, had the resources to enable me to do it, but with my hubby in work now I feel that I can do it without our finances crashing down around our ears! Anyway, on with the Motley...

Ouzo Destructo!

Well here we are again. The first quiet weekend for ages. Most people would not credit the schedule we've had to face over the last few months. We've been to Turkey, Oslo, Bexhill and Brighton. We've attended four Pride festivals. We've had 3 birthdays, 2 parties, changes of work and Orlando starting work. Our friend and flatmate Bobby has been having an 'interesting' and rather full on time herself.

All in all I'm feeling a little burnt out and want to slump on the sofa like the Milk Tray woman, mashing boxes of chocolates with my podgy ring encrusted fist while watching unchallenging black and white movies.

I also feel like a major detox. The punch I made for the birthday parties, though surprisingly innocuous afterwards, I am sure who has dissolved my liver and wizened my kidneys so much that I can probably only healthily survive on grape juice and sadly I don't mean wine.

Or I could just piss the weekend away!

DRINK DRINK DRINK AND DRINK!

Well there seems to be another media outcry, this time directed at the change to the licencing laws. Apparently we will become people who spend every extended hour in the pub imbibing 3000 pints of gin before staggering forth, clubbing and copulating with the first object we come to, which will make the late night taxi trade become not only more dangerous but also much more unhygenic. Examples of this behavior have been taken fom every Brit holiday destination. Of course what they don't say is that without the restriction on opening hours there won't be the urge to binge and that the reason these holiday spots are so bad is because the sunseekers have been trained to line up 10 pints before closing time, which there never comes. It will be a few weeks before things settle but at least it won't mean everyone poured onto the street at the same time and does not mean that the landlord cannot refuse to serve someone who's too drunk. Better that we learn to grow up as a society rather than rely on mummy government to tell us when bedtime is. Or if there's so much of a problem why not make the stuff illegal for the under 50's?

And why (again) is the media trying to whip up a panic? Is it summer with not much news going on?

Oh... yes!

A funny thing happened on the way to the Elephant.

Well there I was, passing through the Elephant & Castle Shopping Centre casually minding everyones business and, as usual, being ever so horrified by the picture on the wall of one of the booths of Lil' Kim in a bikini squatting. Basically she was in a position that, in spite of the absence of any other figure in the picture, could only be described as coital. Anyway, there I was, horrified, and who should walk past but Jaqueline Pearce. Now many may not know the name but she played Servalan in Blakes' 7 and has done a number of other roles over the years. Suffice it to say she's fab and there she is briskly walking through the Center with a small suitcase and on the phone. I was tempted to stop her to say something but as I said she was on the phone. Oddly enough I saw Celia Imrie, late of Victoria Wood, looking rattled and laden outside Tesco a couple of months back and again I thought probably not the besttime to say anything. Shame though

Oh for Gods Sake!

See, I was saying about Big Brother and Craig and there he went and left and gosh he made himself no more likeable on the outside than he did inside!

And at least I don't get exposed to the bloody papers!

No relation of mine!

I have always been rather averse to reality TV particularly since there’s no such thing. It’s “Reality Like” TV or more honestly “Reality if everyone in the world was an amoralistic hedonistic egotist with the moral boundaries of a Malteaser and everyone was on camera. Particularly this year I have been avoiding Big Brother 2005 who rather like Bill Gates have turned from an edition number to a year. Now over the last few years the boundaries for this programme have shifted and flexed to the point of breaking. The obvious assumption from people who’ve never seen it is that there’s casual nudity and sexual content as this ‘depraved’ behaviour is apparently particularly disgusting. They would be wrong. The disturbing fact is that the extreme that people have gone to is aggression, bullying and violence. Last year we had some people who were so matched against each other that the Police had to be called. This year we have the worst examples of bullying and coercion with the Saskia/Maxwell gang who behaved like the worst children in the school ground – so much so that they even had a ‘whipping boy’ in Craig, someone who’s lack of self-perception is only matched by his desperate lack of depth. They proceeded to bully him into a subservient state so they could rely on his support and obedience. After they left, Craig revealed his obsession for Anthony who is heterosexual and not blind or deaf so therefore not interested in him. They have proceeded through various floods of tears (Craig’s) and some surprisingly restrained behaviour (Anthony) to argue over Craig’s demands, Craig’s petty jealousy and Craig’s apologies, which go something like this. “I’m sorry I hit you but I thought you were going to flip out about the glass I put in your food to prevent you talking to anyone else so I think I was fully justified in hitting you with a table leg and it was an accident so I think you should apologise for your complete overreaction!”

That kind of mentality worries me because it is completely obvious to everyone that the person is in the wrong but they would feel that they weren’t. Worse still is the fact that they’ll often be wrong because their reaction prevents the process called ‘Learning’.

And I want to slap him. But I fear I would have to join a queue.

It annoys me that the programme (which I hasten to add I rarely watch, mainly at the instigation of my partner) gets to me in such a fundamental way.
It makes me think that Doctor Who was right and that killing the evictees is the only way to end the madness. And clean the gene pool at the same time.

It's hard to be funny...when you have to be "clean"

I love Mae West. She used her brain in spite of her body. And surprisingly sharply too. The reason I mention her is because her type of woman seem curiously lacking on television these days, particularly on ITV. The usual suspects presented the news last night. One older or less attractive man, one nymphets who spent her time responding to the older, less attractive man and showing off her ribcage and a weather forecaster who should be a skinnier version of the nymphet. Seriously though, someone needs to get those girls some cream cakes. The weather girls are dangerously underweight with an overdose of make up and heads that wobble around when unsupported like a famine victim. Most of them cannot be considered attractive by men and many look like heavily made up brooms in wigs. It’s quite terrifying that ITV is so heavily pursuing the route taken by its American counterparts.

Its programmes are terrible too but you do get the feeling that it’s in someone’s portfolio as a ‘loss leader’ like value cereal. So cheap someone will buy it but also so bad that no one will really enjoy it. Sometimes when you flick through you imagine people slumped on their sofas watching
‘Family Celebrities Getting Us Out Of Wishing We Were Watching Coronation Street, Emmerdale and Heartbeat while being Framed in Naughty Blunders With Club Reps, Tricia and Trevor McDonald Tonight.”

It does get on my nerves because it could do so much better!

The Inert Child

London Radio had a piece on the fact that the majority of children in London spend less than 1 hour a day outside unsupervised. The rest of the time they are at home, in a car or at school.

When I was brought up I went out from a young age. I walked to Primary School that was over three miles away on my own or with friends. I played in a park about a mile from my house. My mother sent me to the shop to get things for her. I feel that the paranoia, and it is paranoia, about safety does mean that these children will never skin their knees, play on bikes etc. Maybe if more children went out there would be less chance of things happening particularly if some parents went along and supervised.

Most of this paranoia seems to be spread by the media who's obsession with the nightmare of the real world and all the murderers and terrorists does not seem to reflect the reality I see daily. Many people in London are polite, helpful, pleasant and most of the people who are not are mainly so through fear. If you don't talk to people, avoid eye contact you cause others to do the same. If your body language is closed so will that of those around you. No one reacts to anti-social behaviour. If everyone did it would be less prevalent. Reclaim your lives and your world people unless you want to stay inside for the rest of your lives with large locks on the door!

Nobody knows where my Johnny has gone.

A birthday is a wonderful thing. However sometimes it can be ever-so-slightly heart stopping, especcially when trying to organise a party particularly when coupled with my hubby’s bad back that meant that he was unexpectedly present during the day. Nonetheless Bobbie, Orlando in an invalid capacity and I did our best to clean and polish the flat. It was as I was doing this I was struck by the amount of crap that we accumulate over time. I found an old food processor, a broken liquidiser and no end of old take away menus.

Time to clear the crap!

Sunday, fuzzy sunday.

Here I am after a long and involved weekend. Saturday we spent with Rob and his aunt. Bless her, she is lovely and extremely paranoid about being parodied in Rob and my script and website at www.vitriolandoldlace.com. She shouldn't worry. I come from Bexhill where the vast majority of the population are over 60 and have more than enough material to last me several lifetimes. Despite the incipient paranoia the day was a delight, as always, as enough food to cause a blue whale to explode was paraded past us. We then had to leave for reasons of sanity and then had to discuss the intricacies of travelling from Loughborough Junction to Elephant & Castle with someone that the Network Rail helpline. A journey of one stop I might add which I was informed "didn't run today." I at that point indicated that I'd used the service to get to Loughborough Junction that day. The chap plainly insisted that it was impossible and I must be imagining it. I gave up at that point and called back for travel the following Saturday and the girl told me that the last train was 10.30. At least I knew I’d missed it, but how unhelpful was the first guy? Ah well, we whizzed home on the 35 and spent most of Sunday semi-conscious.

And now the week beckons.

Oh no!

Well it looks like the hinted of follow up attacks in London have just hit. It's still not clear whether it was a copycat attack or the same organisation again. Certainly the explosions seem considerably less powerful this time. So much so no-one seems to have been hurt – thank goodness. Interestingly this time it seems that it wasn’t a suicide mission as the perpetrators seem to have been seen running from the scene. And bless them, some of the public tried to stop them. I like that attitude, very un-American! Do something like that and live and expect people around you to attempt to arrest you! In the States people would pull a gun on you or shrink away terrified.

All the people I know seem to be OK.

I hope everyone else is!

Sociable Bunnies!

After the celebration of Orlando’s birthday on Friday we went to Orpington on Saturday for a 21st birthday party with some girls who we previously met in Turkey on holiday. A charming time was had by all but I was struck by the provincial nature of the people there. When I was younger I used to travel by train from my home town of Bexhill to Brighton, Canterbury, London and quite a few other places. Admittedly while my father was living in Dorset the journey there was a bit onerous but otherwise I was happy to travel for an hour or two. Many of the people there (particularly the young ones) viewed trips to London like an expedition to the Antarctic only with Discos and shopping. I’ve run into this mentality before, best reflected in the words of a lovely waitress in a Little Chef1 at Newport Pagnell service station who made me, by much dint of effort, the worst hot chocolate I’ve ever tasted. She enquired about our journey2 and we explained that we had travelled from London which she then described as being “A right long way away, in’t it?”

I find it very difficult to understand that attitude. I may have travelled a bit more that most people but finding that people don’t believe that Peckham is a real place and that their main intent in life is to breed and settle, probably where they were brought up and then only travel to places that are exactly the same as where they live with sunshine and food they can complain about. It is a mystery to me.

1 Notes for the unfamiliar. Little Chef’s are purported to be restaurants serving delicious meals on the highways of Great Britain. And the Queen is really a dwarfish Czechoslovakian Traffic Warden.

2 Our journey entailed a trip to Northampton for New Year. The trip involved visiting a pub that shut at 11.30pm on New Years Eve and listening to a girl who wanted to have sexual congress with her best friend’s boyfriend because she didn’t have one. Her friend agreed and the boyfriend said “Ooooriatte”. Many people from Northampton have an accent not dissimilar to Bubble from ‘Absolutely Fabulous’. The word Acrylic is pronounced Akrilack and everyone wears it!

Beers Bars and Birthdays

Well, it’s been the hubby’s birthday over the weekend (like every queen we have at least 2 per year) and this one was a pleasant and relatively quiet one. We went to the pub for lunch – The Crown in Blackfriars Road. At this point I will say I’m not much of a pub person but this one was wonderfully comfy, has a secluded beer garden which manages to be quiet! We spent a pleasant afternoon there having a nice lunch and then wandered around enjoying the sunshine. He then received a call to let him know he’d got the job he’d applied for and we proceeded to wander until we returned with our flatmate to the Crown for dinner. They then served us up a hot platter with a selection of hot dishes including sausages, chunky chips, chicken kebab, ciabatta with roasted vegetables, salad and sauces which comfortably served 3 without desert for £12. After this repast we went home and flopped in front of Buffy the Vampire Slayer!

Silence...

We all trooped out as had been requested (or in the case of Local Governement, demanded) and the mood was quite jovial. As we stepped out onto the pavement I noticed several other buildings emptying out and again the crowd seemed in boyant mood, the sun was shining and the usual cars and busses ploughed up and down Walworth Road.And then a horn went off and the whole street became silent.

Busses, cars and taxi’s pulled over to the side of the road and a silence fell that I haven’t experienced anywhere in the world before. I’ve been places where it’s quiet but never somewhere where it was quiet by the choice of the people there. The whole of Walworth Road stood and made their presence felt. It was oddly moving.

And then I saw two women in Yashmaks who were standing on the street corner who looked nervous to put it mildly. I smiled at them as they stood on the street with us.

And then I thought, I really wish my life had subtitles. I wish I could express that I was not excluding anyone from this experience. That the only people who I stand against are fools and murderers, bigots and killers.

And above all, I would like the people who encourage and instruct young men, women and children to become suicide bombers to put their beliefs where their bombs are and do it themselves. ‘Cos I can’t think of a case where they have.

Summer in the City

We seem to have reached that amazing part of summer that confounds tourists from around the world. The warm spell! Tourists seem to maintain the illusion that London is wet and foggy and that the British are all uptight and polite. If only the various deprived Rookeries of London were still present, we could just direct them there and then a day later buy their clothes and gold fillings in the pawnshops. Seriously though summer is upon us in that brain baking way that we experience most years.

There are some unfortunate reactions to this type of weather, however.

So far the builders outside my office window have disrobed to a semi-decent level reminding me again of the downside of fried food. This isn’t a diet coke break but more of a Chocolate Sundae garnished with whipped cream, sugar lumps and chips. In contrast are (and I hate to use this phrase) the Chavs who look rather scarily malnourished with a skin tone normally found on insects in underground ecosystems. I really have a problem with heroin chic and cannot understand the attraction and in some cases, their ability to walk on legs that thin. It’s not even that they’re slim, they don’t seem to have any muscles. I am rather horrified by the concept of people in their 30’s and 40’s emulating this too. I think I see the future for Mr Howard and his replacement in them. The new Sun readers, too young to remember the intelligence insulting Party Political Broadcasts from the last two elections, who will believe that the bigoted crap reflects their views.
Julie Birchill loves them apparently. I think it may be that their standards are so low that she might get a date.

I shot me down?

Well it looks like that they’ve identified the bombers and it turns out that the silly pratts were suicide bombers.

It’s really not a very good idea to die for your belief. Living for it is much more effective. Even the Catholic Church worked that out.

I hope we will see no crap with idiots assaulting Muslims. The beliefs of these extremists are so far removed from the rest of us, be us Muslim, Buddhist, Christian, Jew or merely waiting and seeing, that they are almost inconceivable.

My real curiosity is what was going on in their heads because I cannot imagine it!

Ice and Fire

We are at that point of the summer where we can only be described as under regular attack. The massed hordes of Mr Whippy assemble in our area and attempt to ram raid every child and parent’s pocket for some cream-like, Soya-based, seaweed containing fluff that Whippy and his ilk purvey.

I quite like ice-cream but if I were to indulge as much as the doorstep availability would allow I would end up the size of Ibiza. Particularly since the closest the material sold has come to a cow is probably the corpulent mother in leggings buying a large one for herself and an ice pole for her equally distended but somehow deprived child.

The Ice Cream Wagons have been circling for some time now and I am awaiting the lynching of some poor diabetic with a Screwball.

And if I hear another rendition of a Disney film tune scored for crackly and annoying little bells then someone will die. I will ensure it.

London is now Burning!

It is at this point that I’ll raise that I live on the edges of an estate and that I am a dweller in an ex Council Flat (We’re barristers… It’s more of a statement). I am a bit tetchy and for many people who don’t know what the area is like it will be of little surprise to know that I had a rather disturbed night. The Local Pub decided to have a throwing out party and the police and ambulance services had to be called. This is not a usual event however as the area’s pretty quiet at night. On top of that night time disturbance we had a blast of the night time ‘London Heat’ where every block of stone radiated heat for about 4 hours after sunset meant that there was no possibility of more than an hours sleep last night.

So I’m a little cream crackered.

Panic on the Streets of London?

It can get a little wearing watching the news. All the attempts to create iconic figures out of the populace from the tube train driver who guided people to safety to the man who helped a woman with a burnt face. All these people have said that yes it was them and that they again, just did what anyone else would or that they were just doing their job. However the press seems very keen on deifying them. Again, I’m not sure it’s for those members of the public’s benefit. Could it be to sell papers and stories, to milk disaster for all it’s worth.

I now hope that I am getting too cynical.

We have recently had a development in this country for celebrity for celebrity’s sakes. The creation and elevation of people with no or little skill in life and less inclination to use those skills. The ‘It’ girls and the footballers wives are prime examples. Independently well off, these Coco the Clown look-a-likes have done little to benefit humanity and in some cases seem to undergo lives of tawdry excess and substance abuse. And I don’t know why.

Few of them seem to be genuinely happy and, trust me on this, that make up on a 50 year old will look less than pleasant.

They are almost appreciated because they’re tawdry. Like being unable to stop watching a car crash. You know what will happen but can’t look away.

Certainly the people who helped on Thursday need no part of this tacky ‘processing’ by the media. When we do things because of reward rather than it being right we are on a slippery slope to rule by lawyer and dominance of the ‘affordable monthly repayment’
Or am I ‘Disgusted’ from Tunbridge Wells?

A mission to inform

Well, it’s a couple of days after the event and things are pretty much getting back to normal. There are less people tan normal around but after the request on Friday that people stay away from London that would seem reasonable. I have found the media particularly unhelpful over the last couple of days as they try to eke the ‘incident’ out over the weekend. It may seem a bit cynical of me (and of course none of my friends would call me that – bunch of sycophants that they are) but their comments of ‘People are staying away from London. Is it that they’re following the Governments suggestion of staying away or that they’re afraid of another attack’

It’s almost as if they’re hoping for a bit of panic.

The cynical side of me remembers that this is the silly season for the press when normally not much goes on and any minor bit of news is leapt on.

I understand a mission to inform but over the last few years we’ve had so much bullshit over crime being ‘out of control’ and people ‘are afraid to leave their homes’ I often end up feeling that there might be a little scaremongering.

If people were out without fear there would be more people on the streets and probably less crime. Time to reclaim the streets I think.

Maybe not tonight.

London is NOT burning.

I've been considering starting one of these for some time but have often wondered if I have the inclination or capability for regular postings. Or for that matter whether the internet would suck out my creative soul..

I realised today that it didn't matter. After the events of the last 14 hours here in London I realised that the main thing was, as many others have, to make my voice heard.

I am so proud to be British! Not through any misplaced patriotism, or without realising some of the abosoultely diabolical history we have.

It's the people. The people who I know. The people who I see on television today. The people who have survived these terrible events and seen things that no one wants to see with resolve and fortitude.

And a sense of.. and this is where it becomes difficult to explain.. mustn't grumble, could be worse or 'Tut'. I'm pretty sure that there's no translation for the terms but it's really the fact that these people carry on. They trim sails and walk home rather than collapsing in the street in hysterics. They smile when they could fear. And they help others and when the cameras fall onto them they say "I only did what anyone would." and avoid the limelight. These people aren't looking for 15 minutes of fame. They're looking to get on with their lives and often help others to do the same.

And it must piss off those who caused this atrocity. For them it must feel like trying to nail jelly to a wall!