Archive
Manchester Riot: Madness at the Malmaison
this is a rather stream-of-consciousness report based on my experience of the last 7 hours. apologies for the lack of critical thinking or reflection (or proper punctuation). more of that tomorrow, perhaps.
It’s like looking through reflective glass onto a different world – only it isn’t… it is clear glass and the policeman on the other side of the glass is looking at me with a face that says “for god’s sake, man, what are you doing – get away from the glass and let us get on with the job”. so I do.
There’s a woman in a decollete little black dress and high heals. The fake tan is too much but she’s giving it everything and her date is in awe of the glamour, but it takes just a moment of standing out on the pavement looking for a taxi to realise that they’re not going anywhere this evening… that they’ll be better to head back inside and get a drink.
The Malmaison staff were excellent. keeping a lid on things. behaving as normal. still serving the steak tartare, still taking the orders and taking the soup off the list because it wasn’t to sir’s liking. but there was an underlying tension. the assistant manager had a cool, calm, jovial face. right up to the point where she said “gentlemen, are you staying in the hotel tonight? well then I suggest that you go to your rooms. They’ve just smashed up the Mint Hotel round the corner and they’re coming this way”. We took her advice.
Little Black Dress and her date are oblivious… they’re virtually sitting in the middle of the foyer, locked together by mouth.
Fourth floor viewpoint
But we stopped off on the 4th floor by the lifts to look out over the front of the hotel. Every now and then a group of young men would saunter by. swaggering. confident. cocky. and clearly cold because their hoods are all up. This, I reflected, was the best moment of their young lives – or at least it looked like it was – they owned the streets. maybe this is the only time they’ve owned the city – felt like it was their’s – dominated.
A young, female, mancunian colleague tweets: “@richardayers There are gangs running round here with axes and hockeysticks”. I suddenly feel like sitting and watching it from a fourth floor window is like watching a roman games. I’m a bit embarrassed. I worry about those of us who have spectated – on tv, in person – and how much that builds the desire for these idiots to act. I worry about my colleague. To be clear, I’ve got nothing to worry about – it’s the people who live here, the people whose community is getting smashed up for no good reason who’ve got the trouble.
The two security guards from the Mal stand outside on the street – looking at the groups that walk by. Doing nothing but looking. nervously.
At the start of the evening we’d been in the office. It was 6.30 and I was settling in for another evening’s work at City@Home. But the call came from the police and quickly the word spread … “Police advise that we leave the building. They say that there’s been trouble in the centre of town and they’ve blocked it off so the gangs will be heading this way. The Mercedes showroom have removed all the cars from their forecourt and we should just leave now”.
Now, I’ve spent the last 3 days living in a quiet part of Islington – just a mile or two from the centre of the riots in London… and i’ve left my wife, baby and friends down there… and I remember the IRA bombing campaign in the 80s… and I remember the 7/7 bombings and the t-shirt that had a london underground sign with the station name as ‘Still not scared’. So I’m more annoyed than scared. I had a lot of work to do. But it’s sensible to leave and there’s a lift on offer, so I give myself over to the general mood and head out.
Mr Portugal, Mr New York and myself are all dropped off near the Malmaison which is our home for the evening. On our way walking there we come across groups of teens. Sweet looking, non-hoodie wearing, kids. You can tell there’s an excitement. As we pass, I hear one girl say to another ‘you’ve got to be here – just to see it – haven’t you. you’ve just got to, to see what’s going to happen’.
As we came round to the front of the hotel, it was an odd sight. A main street quietened. Police in a line at either end. Some strewn rubbish up the road. A smashed bus stop. The ‘gang’ – or do we call them criminals? ‘horde’? – had just been through. Police were directing us down other roads – but “not through here, sir”. I can only think to say to the young PC “thanks for all you’re doing. I don’t mean to be patronising, but carry on the good work.” “thank you sir,” he says “enjoy your evening”.
As we stood looking at the officers and the debris, 4 kids cycled into the area on street-versions of mountain-bikes. All 4 between 17 and 20 years old, dark clothing, two of (I’m guessing of course) Somali descent, two with blackberries in hand as they were riding. Nothing unusual so far. What *was* unusual is that they cycled up to where the police stood, circled around, then over to where the debris was, circled around again, then back to where they entered the street and circled once more – checking, looking, assessing, chatting between them… and then there was a decision to move on and they accelerated off back down the side-street where they’d come from. Now I’m all for encouraging pedal power – and normally I’d say it’s good for the environment – but there was something oddly threatening as these kids were scoping what was going on. It’s all too tempting to get drawn into dramatic analogies, but the movement on the bikes had a sweeping, stealthy and threatening grace to it… it felt like a 4 hawks swooping to check out a field. “Why don’t the police just arrest them?” my colleague asks – and we hear from the hotel assistant manager that the police *have* been taking suspicious people off the streets earlier in the evening, but nonetheless I answer, “What are they going to arrest them for? Cycling with intent?”.
The American I’m with just can’t get over what’s going on. He’s been in the country for 5 days – literally – and it’s blowing his mind. Several times he says “but this just wouldn’t happen in the states. we’d have the navy seals on the street”. I don’t think you would – but i get the point. “we’d have the army. this would have been stamped out right away. what’s stopping the police sorting it out?” His disbelief is palpable, and perhaps even endearing. I try to explain that we have a tradition of not calling the army onto the streets – and caveat that Northern Ireland isn’t a good example. I try to explain that our police often take a more steady approach – intervene if there’s something life-threatening, but otherwise, let it settle of its own accord… and then use the unparalleled cctv coverage in our country to make sure that the right people are prosecuted.
“What caused this?” he asks again and again. … and I don’t have a better answer than, ‘it’s complicated’. Socio-economic reasons – kids frustrations- underclass – disenchantment – criminality – yobbery… even just plain ‘doing it for the hell of it’ – like the tweet that said “It’s like grand theft auto” ..these are all too complex answers and the combination of them and others make it even less fathomable.
I came up to Manchester this morning and tweeted “feels odd to leave my city in the wake of the riots and to be heading to calm Manchester”. Not calm any more. But Little Black Dress and White T-shirt Man don’t care. They’ve taken the blitz-spirit to heart and head to bed. Love, or something, conquers all.
For most of our meal we didn’t really notice the riots outside our hotel. We were talking business, putting the company to rights, ordering the burger and thinking about where my Portuguese and American colleague should live. Sadly, this madness interjects. What a welcome to our country.
Beard Infographic
Excellent work by Matt McInerney of pixelspread.com – and I think, as someone who’s done some time on the unsavoury/threatening borders but now, hopefully, resides in ‘very trustworthy’, that it’s pretty accurate too. (click the image to make it bigger)
Thor goes Triple A
Something has been keeping me busy in the last few days.
More pics here on flickr.
The Meaning of Life – according to Highbury
Christ Church in Highbury put up signs advertising a course. Ten signs all saying the same thing: “The meaning of life is…..”
I’ve no idea whether they meant people to fill in the blank – but the did. These photos are taken two days after the signs were put up – and the answers reveal so much about my neighbours. Click here or the pictures to get the full set of 10.
Girls’ Dealbreakers
Yesterday India Knight mentioned dealbreakers on BBC Radio 4’s Woman’s Hour programme and lots of people picked it up on twitter. In fact, there’s an individual dealbreakers twitter account as well set up by a lady called Emily.
I remembered that in February 2004, when dating dealbreakers was a very relevant topic for me, I’d done a survey in the office and found that lots of people had a list. And as I had the list of dealbreakers for guys to hand yesterday, I put it up here.
So, here’s the full story. In pseudo-scientific way, I’ve included the question I asked – and all the responses are in the order they were submitted and are unedited.
The email I sent to colleagues: “Recent discussions have led me to try to put together a list of minor quibbles that a yound woman might have with a man. you know – those tiny things you notice where you suddenly think “oh no, this is never going to work…”. We’re talking the immediate turn-offs, dealbreakers. give me your suggestions and i’ll put together a list for a vote…”
The Summary: “hardly scientific, but in summary…
– girls seem to have a greater tendency to pick up the small details early on – spotting things which are immediate turn-offs. ones which got lots of votes were: bad teeth, white socks (not on a gym day) and there were various opinions on hair – but the gist was that back/neck not ideal.
– boys have a tendency not to pick up small details at first – tends to be the obvious physical points – but then can build a big list of what i’d call bug-bears later on – attitudinal things which they notice once they’re in a relationship.”
GIRLS will find the following things about BOYS a “dealbreaker”…
- * someone who gets their nails done
- * someone who spends more time in the bathroom than you
- * use of the word “lounge” or “toilet” (as in “I’m just going to the toilet”)
- * VEST TOPS – ESPECIALLY IN THE WINTER – ESPECIALLY WHEN WORN AS EVENING WEAR
- * EAR HAIR , NOSE HAIR, VERY BUSHY EYEBROWS THAT NEED TO BE TRIMMED
- * EARRINGS
- * A WALT DISNEY TYPE TIE
- * NAFF BOXER SHORTS WITH SILLY PICTURES ON (IF IT GETS THAT FAR)
- * KEEPS HIS SOCKS ON (IF IT GOES FURTHER)
- * SOVEREIGN RINGS ARE ALSO A BIG NO NO!
- * FLASH WITH CASH
- * TIGHT WITH MONEY (ed. jeesus – you have to get it just right, don’t you!!)
- * puts x at the bottom of a text when he hardly knows you
- * hairy back
- * hairy chest
- * A SMALL GATHERING OF HAIRS ON CHEST IS WORSE! A THIRTY SOMETHING STILL GOING THROUGH PUBERTY!
- * comb-overs – go bald with grace!!
- * hairy backs of necks
- * HIGHLIGHTS
- * bright white trainers
- * bright white trainers with jeans
- * WHITE SOCKS WITH DARK SHOES
- * wears briefs, or God forbid speedos to the beach
- * being effeminate
- * Obssessed by any sport!
- * Into crap music but thinks he’s cool
- * Maniac driver
- * Sexist
- * Bleaching of any kind
- * Sweaty armpits – that is insistent on displaying – bo of any kind
- * Fast cars
- * Men who lean in too close and spit on you as they gibber at you.
- * brummie accent
- * tracksuit bottoms
- * won’t dance/ can’t dance
- * general scratching
- * bad table manners
- * sweaty/ clammy hands
- * Excessive PDAs (Public Displays of Affection for anyone not in the know!)
- * Dwarf qualities
- * BAD TEETH
- * sitting strangely
- * Goatees
- * Men who collect anything (this happened to an old flatmate of mine. She went to a new man’s house for the first time to find his bed
- covered in soft toys).
- * Men who spend an excessive amount of time in the gym
- * Men who still see their ex girlfriend. A lot. And alone.
- * Men who refer to you as ‘babe’
- * Men who still live with their parents
- * Men who drink wine in the pub (maybe that’s just me)
- * no socks
- * no socks and loafers
- * Men who sit with their legs excessively wide apart
- * Picks his nose
- * Uses excessive amounts of hair gel
- * Overly tactile and clingy
- * or not tactile AT ALL
- * Carries a man-bag
- * A GUY WHO TURNS UP SMELLING AS IF HE’S COVERED HIMSELF FROM HEAD TO FOOT WITH 5 BOTTLES OF AFTER SHAVE
- * walking strangely
- * non-manly hands
- * sends red roses (ed. too much cliche apparently, not enough imagination)
- * books a romantic weekend for two – but chooses paris
- * being too masculine… farting in bed, etc.
- * bad breath
- * man without a plan
- * makes comments on your weight/eating
- * being a football hoolie
- * cheapness
- * white socks on non gym days
- * high trousers
- * Cheap Argos jewellary and lots of it
- * Crap Ringtones on fones ( i.e. feminine ringtones)
- * more make up than me
- * Hair worn brushed forward with pleanty of gel re prime trisha contestant
- * fussy eaters
- * brogue wearers
- * nasal hair
- * small hands
- * using a carrier bag as a main bag (i.e some men carry lots of stuff with them in carrier bags)
- * carrying loads of stuff in trouser pockets
- * Long Finger nails and long toe nails
- * Extra Long Last finger nail
- * Masses of Armpit hair
Boys’ Dealbreakers
Some years ago I came across the concept of dealbreakers when a female friend chucked a bloke on a third date because two dealbreakers combined:
1. his use of language: he used the word toilet instead of loo/bathroom, as in ‘I’m going to the toilet’. And he said ‘lounge’ rather than front room / sitting room. I know, bizarre. This was combined with 2. his use of jewellery: he had a pinky ring and wore a thin gold chain round his neck. Combined with no.1 this was just too much.
So, I did a survey round the office – and it turns out that almost everyone has some kind of dealbreaker – however relaxed they say they are – however much they only care about the character.
Today, as India Knight has mentioned her dealbreakers on Radio 4’s Woman’s Hour, I thought I’d post the dealbreakers that my then work colleagues came up with. If you’re faint of heart, then read with a gentle health warning – these comments are word-for-word what was written down and in the order that they were sent to me. Enjoy, and please post your own below.
I’ll post the Girls’ dealbreakers tomorrow.
BOYS will find the following things about GIRLS a “dealbreaker”…
- her hands are more manly than yours / nails bitten raw
- insists on driving with her nose right up against the steering wheel when there’s no need at all
- she’s plump but still has a pierced belly button (and it really doesn’t work…)
- Too much make-up, or wears any base/foundation whatsoever
- Eats more than you at dinner
- Drinks pints
- Has big feet (ed. forgiveable if there’s a pay-off…)
- Has a wonderbra disguising a tiny bust. (If they’re small, that’s fine, just don’t dress them up to be something they’re not) (ed. also known as Millenium Dome Syndrome – ie looks big from the outside but fuck all to see when you get in there)
- False Titties!!
- Cellulite
- Smelly (fishy in particular) noony
- fat ankles
- Insists on telling you a non edited version of her day
- Thinks that its no longer taboo to talk freely about periods
- Wear those really horrible half tight popsock things
- Thinks they can get away without shaving their legs
- Turns regular events into moments, eg don’t you remember this is the place we had our first larger top etc etc
- speaking with your mouthful
- girls who give more attention to their cat/dog than you.
- cant stand aftershave
- takes all the pillows
- earns more than u and cant stop talkny about it/making reference
- film watching – asks questions you cant know the answer to,
- Starts talking in coo chi coo
- she has a brummy accent
- she laughs with a piercing cackle
- she’s carrying a few pounds but still thinks she is entitled to wear a bear midriff top or worse a thong
- she replies to very question with I don’t mind (apart from the saucy ones that is)
- She thinks she has a good signing voice and would go far on fame academy
- Has had a “difficult past”
- Never buys a round
- Everything’s an allergy
- At dinner don’t notice that they have got mayonnaise on their chin even though it has been there 10 minutes
- Insist on putting that lip gloss stuff on that makes you feel like you are kissing a post it note
- Get lip stick on your glass when they want to try a bit of beer (ditto cigs)
- Don’t understand that lying in front of the TV on a Saturday does constitute “doing something”
- Indicates when driving when only a slight swerve is necessary
- Wears trainers with a suit skirt
- After you have finished a telephone conversation with a friend she asks you if you asked him a certain question when she has been listening all along anyway and knows you haven’t.
- has a bigger dick than u
- red heads….no hair just a red head
- long hair down her back…none on her head just all down her back.
- more than usual allocation of fingers and toes.
- always sporting a camels toe.
- think that men don’t mind standing aimlessly in ‘birds’ shops feeling like an arse (apart from Top shop where chairs are provided)
- can’t understand that guys will know what they want, where it is and how much it costs and will only spend the absolute minimum shopping for it.
- always always asking ‘does my bum look big in this’, when her bum IS BIG, and looks big in everything.
- freely admits that blow jobs aren’t her thing.
- Has the ability to come home bladdered and wake you up to tell you every detail of the night – yes ….every detail
- Inability to open doors quietly past midnight after one glass of white wine
- The need to phone 40 times of an evening on her journey home – again after one glass of white wine
- very hairy nipples
- Shoes shoes shoes and more shoes
- Your clothes always get the smallest amount of room in cupboards and draws
- Loo seat always has to be down
- Thinks it is ok to go to the loo while your in the shower……..going to the loo
- If you forget to put a ‘x’ at an end of an email/text gets in a huff
- Can’t pronounce the names of certain wines
- Makes you watch the full series of Sex in the City and Friends on dvd
- Never happy when going to the cinema if they have not picked the film
- she uses all the towels in the bathroom because she ‘needs to’ – usually cos she’s washed her hair.
- she spends an hour on the phone to someone she’s going to see 20 minutes after the call ends.
100 views from the tower
In March 2009, I started work for a media company based on the 19th floor of 1 Canada Square, Canary Wharf – also known as the tower. This is a photo journal of the view from my desk. Click here or any of the images below to go to the slideshow.
The view is looking west across London with the River Thames in the foreground, the Gherkin and Tower 42 (formerly the NatWest Tower) in the distance on the right and the BT tower in the far distance. My favourites are the sunsets, the snow and the window cleaner.
Almost all shots were taken with an iPhone 3, those of higher quality/more zoom were a Canon Ixus 430. Oh, and it took me till shot 15 to standardise the position of the camera.
65 days in: Speech-less
OK, so it went on more than I thought it was going to. There were a lot of lists, and a lot of thanks to cover. Sorry. I hope you had a seat.
It looked something like this.
4 days in: Andy boo’s the choir
He didn’t boo them – he boo’d them.Not because they were bad, you see – in fact Andy was in the choir and was recording it at the time. Yes, Swing Low and Flower of Scotland as recorded in the choir loft. You can listen to it on Audioboo here.
You should have seen the look David (my new father-in-law) was giving me during Swing Low… he thought they were just going to do that one! No-one had any idea that either rugby anthem was on the way… and David genuinely thought it was just going to be the English tune. The look said “bloody sassanach”….
3 days in: Post-script and pictures
Day 3 of Marriage: Not really the time for blogging. This is more of a post-script to Saturday’s tremendous occasion. More of a proper follow-up later.
We had the most wonderful day of our lives and we can’t thank enough all the people who played a role in that. Thank you.
For pics of the day:
- Dapple’s – a couple from the pub and plenty of crackers from the party – especially nice from the DJ’s vantage point.
- Graham’s – lovely shots in the church pre-match, the bride’s arrival and a couple from the crows-nest of the choir loft, then party shots and some from round the piano
and if you’re on facebook check out Alison Clough’s, Siobhan Furlong’s and Alicia Blum-Ross’s.
And a few of mine here.
1 day to go: Speech time
If you know me at all, you know that I love good process and planning. And graphs. And lists. I make lists. And then lists of lists.
Check a search for Groom Speech online and you, broadly speaking, get a series of links that would lead you down the path of banality. Luckily, I don’t need to use any of these suggested “jokes”, romantic notes or pre-prepared prose. I have a list to rely on. Having said that, if you’ve got suggestions, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of crowdsourcing so bung ’em in.
Of course, I get the easy job: thank people, make multiple mentions of “my wife” to rapturous applause and remember to toast the beautiful bridesmaids. I’m told that the BF, David, will have some things to say. He usually does. Based on what he said about the other daughter, FSIL Sarah, on her wedding day, it should be the most entertaining speech you’ve ever heard. No pressure David. And then there’s the BM, Steve. Such a good and supportive job so far. Such a good stag do. And I have every confidence he’ll deliver with aplomb.
Right. Better get it written then. Now, which ppt template to use…
3 days to go: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!
PHEW – I’m glad i got that out of my system. better now. woke at 5.30 with a stonking headache – a sense of excitement, apprehension, trepidation and a list of things that need to get done. oh, and Old Red Eyes by The Beautiful South going round my head. pre-match nerves are a good thing though, right? – otherwise you wouldn’t enter the field of play geared up and ready to go.
anyway, tension always builds when you’re in the last days approaching a big product launch… the FMA conversion process being the most valuable project I’ve managed and this is definitely going to be the biggest party I ever have or ever will organise.
Obviously none of this has anything to do with being out on the town (liverpool) with some of the TMR management team and finishing the night with a Hemingway.
Rehearsal tonight. That’ll help calm everyone down then.
6 days to go: Last Lasts and the BEST rsvp
Less than a week to go now. Excitement with the FMA is so intense she will, actually, burst unless work can take her mind off next Saturday. Obviously I’m still completely unruffled. Looking forward to the skiing though. Oh, and the cakes (there’s going to be a good selection) and the party. And maybe the church bit. And all the rest to come…
The “Last Last” Syndrome has kicked in good and proper. The last saturday night out as a single man. The last haircut (sorry mum, I was never going to go back to the short, back and sides). The last friday at work, the last time of going to church, … the list goes on.
BUT, enough of all that. Firstly, I have to show you the BEST rsvp. My hat, real and virtual, tipped to Uncle George.
And just to be complete, another “last”, the last of the stats:
Nervousness
“I’m just Soooooo excited!! It’s ridiculous!” she says. “In a week’s time…”
“Do you get nervous? I get these ridiculous ideas that i’m going to accidentally fall over and smash my nose in. Of getting a massive spot – or falling over and scratching my face, or smashing my teeth in. ”
No, I can honestly say I don’t get that kind of nervousness. The producer (natural control freak) in me gets concerned that every detail of arrangements might not go according to plan – but then I remember it’s quite simple: Vows then Party. Otherwise, no, no nerves. But I do get a warm glow from knowing I’ve made a cracking choice – perhaps that’s similar.
Good catch-up with Rod and Max today at The Story. And I’m delighted to see how many facebook friends keep in touch. As we go into the last week, welcome all.
15 days to go: The FMA – what does it *really* mean?
The first step for most inquisitive people is simply to try googling it… and google has some pertinent suggestions as to the real meaning of The FMA:
- The Family Mediators Association – perhaps she’s likely to work wonders in bringing the Ayers and the Clough clans together.
- Facilities Management Association – yes, she’s good with the cooking and the cleaning.
- Fulfilment Management Association – feeling fulfilled is so important, and so difficult in this fractured world, I’m glad she’ll help me get there.
- Franciscan Mission Association – odd one this one… is there a group of ninjas called Francis who she sends on missions? or perhaps she directs the friars where to do good works?
- Florida Medical Association – I don’t think I’d be marrying her if this was the one. Although, nurses…
- Filipino Martial Arts – involves a lot of hitting you in the knee-caps or biting your ankles – and then nursing you on an NHS ward / nannying your children.
- Japanese Manga character the Fullmetal Alchemist – She is part-machine, with that ever-present sense of focus, after all.
- Free Music Archive – only if it has show tunes and 70s prog-rock.
- Federal Marriage Amendment – I don’t think so. Unless there’s something I need to know which she’s not telling me.
17 days to go: A Stag Stumbles
It wouldn’t be a stag do if nobody got injured – and I mean more than the battering taken by our livers.
At last night’s choir Andy hobbled in and revealed that, having eschewed the sensible taxi in favour of more shenanagins on Saturday night, he was then required to walk back to Banbury Farm. But, being a towny, he hadn’t factored in that it would be dark – pitch black, in fact. And that’s when accidents occur. See image of what happens when you’re inebriated and fall into a pothole. There is also a vague memory of taking a nap in a hedge for a while. Unsubstantiated.
20 days to go: RSVP update
20 days to go: Blokes, Booze and Banter
An open letter to those in Charlbury in the last 48 hours:
Dear Gentlemen,
It was a simple recipe and one that worked tremendously well. Blokes, booze and banter. Thank you all for coming and for contributing to such a celebration of, er, whatever it was we were celebrating.
Another b, barrels, used well for drinking from and, earlier in the day, the over and under kind used with some success against the clays. The speeches at the end of dinner were great – and would only be better if I could remember what was actually said.
And finally I must give my thanks particularly to the brothers – BM Steve and FBIL Ferg – who combined brilliantly to organise everything. Gentlemen, I can’t thank you enough.
Pictures: Dapple’s are here and Steve’s are here.
If I don’t see you before, see you in 20 days.
big love. that is all. carry on. as you were.
22.5 days to go: Last orders, please
It’s my stag do this weekend. A tremendous job by the BM Steve to organise, communicate, chivvy and chase, ably abetted by the FBIL Ferg. Looking forward to it and I’m honoured by the number of guys who can make it. Either that or lots of them are feeling the same as Chris B said to me this afternoon: “I’m really quite excited – I mean, I don’t often have big weekends where you do things like this any more.”
Fi’s hen do last weekend was a cracker, by the sounds of it.
She came back elated and overflowing with the love her friends had poured out. The master-stroke was the board-games theme and the excellent work put in to create “Fiopoly… or Fiona and the Ginger Ring”. That plus the imported follicle extensions… good work ladies. I’m sure that the chaps have put equal creative thought into, er, how many pints they’re going to buy. which is nice.
Last time for everything: It’s when you’re in the run up to something that you start counting the time left. 12 more sleeps ’till we go on holiday, christmas eve eve, the last time i’ll go to the office before i’m made redundant, the last time i can go to the loo before I have to sit through yet more interminable warbling from the soprano oh why oh why did i ever agree to come to the opera i hate the opera, etc … you know the kind of thing.
I’ve not been getting any of these realisations, but I can feel they’re coming. Fi, on the other hand told me she has. So, over dinner, I asked “what kind of things?” “Well,” she says, “like just the other day I thought, that’s the last time I’m going to have my bikini-line waxed cut as a single woman.”.
No, not what I had expected either.
In other news, my dreams are getting weirder. Yesterday’s was a mishmash of inappropriate and embarrassing sexual relations, the problematic launch of a google product (why specifically a google product, i have no idea) and dealing with the fact that I was terminally ill. Other than that, it was a perfectly pleasant night’s sleep. I blame it on the copious amount of parmesan I had eaten before bed. cheesedreams rock.
Also, met the photographers on Tuesday – and they’re cool. The best thing – AND THIS IS FOR ALL YOU GUESTS – they don’t want to be standing around so they’re more than happy to be taking family portraits or pictures of couples during the evening. It’s all digital, naturally, so getting good shots is what they’re about, and Susie and Harley wanted us to actively encourage you to go up and ask them. We get a copy of everything they do whatever happens and however many pics there are – so if you’ve ever fancied having a serious professional (and usually advertising/fashion) photographer take a snap of you, dive in.
And finally, never mind the photographer, there’s a futurologist in the family, and an artistic talent, to boot. I’m so impressed with Stella FNIL (5)’s vision of what the wedding will look like – I particularly like the attention to detail of the high heels and hair lengths, and I’m now seriously thinking about a bow-tie and two-tone blue suit.
Recent Comments