performance and cocktails
FIRST: It is SNOWING! Zoe and I just went outside to prance around as if we'd never seen the stuff before.
SECOND: This is a list of things I've done since I last got my mucky paws on a keyboard.
Thursday 8th:
Left work at 4.30pm; bent my key in my cardoor and nearly to had abandon it on a petrol station forecourt. I overcame this obstacle in order to drive 150 miles from Nottingham to Durham. Google Maps told me the journey would take me two and a half hours; it has since come to light that in actual fact this would require an average speed of around 100mph. As a confident - yay, even fearless - driver of automobiles, this would not be too daunting, if it weren't for a) fear of crosswinds from hell and b) European hauliers. Nevertheless, I made the journey in a reasonable amount of time to arrive at my superfly brother's house, who had secured us tickets to see British Sea Power as they live and breathe and play instruments.
We got the train to Newcastle and went to a real live church, wherein the band played our favourite songs (although not 'Something Wicked') and it was generally one of the best performances I've seen. They are an amazing band and for once my new-found love for dressing like I've just dropped out of the 1940s was not out of place.
We made it home through the mean streets of Newcastle and I slept for four hours, before getting up and racing the police back down the motorways in time to go straight to work. Usually, I would tell someone that a three hundred mile round trip is a stupid thing to do in the middle of the week in order to see a band who might come to Nottingham soon anyway, but I give terrible advice at the best of times and this was totally, totally worth it.
Saturday and Sunday 10th & 11th;
I drove back up the motorway again and got lost in Leeds! I was visiting Rachel and Danny who are enviably grownups with a beautiful house and lovely families and a wedding to plan, which does make me feel like a bit of a loser in my rented house with the leaking roof and recently failed grown-up relationship, but I am so so happy for them, and grateful for a lovely weekend in and around Le.
Tuesday 13th:
A month or so ago, I came back from monsoon-ridden Thailand, and on my first day back in the office my colleague asked if I would like to go and see The Stereophonics at Nottingham Arena with him, as one of our suppliers wanted to wine and dine us. It was joy as I have rarely known, and needless to say I jumped all over him and come last Tuesday, I spent the evening wearing the most expensive outfit ever to grace Nottingham Arena's Executive Suites, dancing to music which I still love even now I'm not 15. It was great, despite The Enemy as support.
Friday 16th:
On Thursday night I didn't leave my office until 7:30pm. I am mired in a huge and stupidly important project which makes me joyfully happy sometimes, and suicidal the rest of the time. I wasn't in the best of moods on Friday morning but I pulled it out of the bag to take part in Wobble Boarding, Pizza Hut Luncheon, and in the evening, I spent three hours taking calls as part of the live Children-in-Need TV show.
This turned out to be the highlight of my week. I was nervous to start with, then it was great fun. Then the most hilarious man in the world phoned me, and to get the full benefit of this story you need to make me tell it to you in person. But, just imagine your basic alcohol-soaked bar-propper, completely sodden, late on a Friday night, and you've got the basic character.
ME: Good evening, BBC Children in Need, how would you like to make your donation?
HIM: YEAH I'M IN A WHEELCHAIR £100 BENEFITS MR WOGAN
ME: Ah . . . I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that.
HIM: IS THIS REAL OR IS IT FAKE? IS THIS LIVE?
ME: Yep, this is real, we're taking all calls live. How would you like to donate to Children in Need?
HIM: I'M IN A WHEELCHAIR AND I'LL GIVE £100 OF MY BENEFITS I WANNA SPEAK TO TERRY WOGAN OR IS THIS FAKE.
ME: Er, we are live, but I'm afraid I can't let you speak to Terry Wogan. We're based in Nottingham, not Television Centre.
HIM: WELL FUCK OFF THEN
and then he hung up. I've never been so startled and amused.
He did make a valid philosophical point, though.
SECOND: This is a list of things I've done since I last got my mucky paws on a keyboard.
Thursday 8th:
Left work at 4.30pm; bent my key in my cardoor and nearly to had abandon it on a petrol station forecourt. I overcame this obstacle in order to drive 150 miles from Nottingham to Durham. Google Maps told me the journey would take me two and a half hours; it has since come to light that in actual fact this would require an average speed of around 100mph. As a confident - yay, even fearless - driver of automobiles, this would not be too daunting, if it weren't for a) fear of crosswinds from hell and b) European hauliers. Nevertheless, I made the journey in a reasonable amount of time to arrive at my superfly brother's house, who had secured us tickets to see British Sea Power as they live and breathe and play instruments.
We got the train to Newcastle and went to a real live church, wherein the band played our favourite songs (although not 'Something Wicked') and it was generally one of the best performances I've seen. They are an amazing band and for once my new-found love for dressing like I've just dropped out of the 1940s was not out of place.
We made it home through the mean streets of Newcastle and I slept for four hours, before getting up and racing the police back down the motorways in time to go straight to work. Usually, I would tell someone that a three hundred mile round trip is a stupid thing to do in the middle of the week in order to see a band who might come to Nottingham soon anyway, but I give terrible advice at the best of times and this was totally, totally worth it.
Saturday and Sunday 10th & 11th;I drove back up the motorway again and got lost in Leeds! I was visiting Rachel and Danny who are enviably grownups with a beautiful house and lovely families and a wedding to plan, which does make me feel like a bit of a loser in my rented house with the leaking roof and recently failed grown-up relationship, but I am so so happy for them, and grateful for a lovely weekend in and around Le.
Tuesday 13th:
A month or so ago, I came back from monsoon-ridden Thailand, and on my first day back in the office my colleague asked if I would like to go and see The Stereophonics at Nottingham Arena with him, as one of our suppliers wanted to wine and dine us. It was joy as I have rarely known, and needless to say I jumped all over him and come last Tuesday, I spent the evening wearing the most expensive outfit ever to grace Nottingham Arena's Executive Suites, dancing to music which I still love even now I'm not 15. It was great, despite The Enemy as support.
Friday 16th:
On Thursday night I didn't leave my office until 7:30pm. I am mired in a huge and stupidly important project which makes me joyfully happy sometimes, and suicidal the rest of the time. I wasn't in the best of moods on Friday morning but I pulled it out of the bag to take part in Wobble Boarding, Pizza Hut Luncheon, and in the evening, I spent three hours taking calls as part of the live Children-in-Need TV show.
This turned out to be the highlight of my week. I was nervous to start with, then it was great fun. Then the most hilarious man in the world phoned me, and to get the full benefit of this story you need to make me tell it to you in person. But, just imagine your basic alcohol-soaked bar-propper, completely sodden, late on a Friday night, and you've got the basic character.
ME: Good evening, BBC Children in Need, how would you like to make your donation?
HIM: YEAH I'M IN A WHEELCHAIR £100 BENEFITS MR WOGAN
ME: Ah . . . I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that.
HIM: IS THIS REAL OR IS IT FAKE? IS THIS LIVE?
ME: Yep, this is real, we're taking all calls live. How would you like to donate to Children in Need?
HIM: I'M IN A WHEELCHAIR AND I'LL GIVE £100 OF MY BENEFITS I WANNA SPEAK TO TERRY WOGAN OR IS THIS FAKE.
ME: Er, we are live, but I'm afraid I can't let you speak to Terry Wogan. We're based in Nottingham, not Television Centre.
HIM: WELL FUCK OFF THEN
and then he hung up. I've never been so startled and amused.
He did make a valid philosophical point, though.
posted by Lucy at 7:28 pm
2 Comments:
Ghetto superstar
that is what I are
coming from above
from another place
where the castles play
and the tutor's gay
to nottingham
to eat some ham
and jam
When do you get here
Is it Monday night
Or are you going to wait
Until tomorrow now.
You are a fucking twat
It's nearly Chris-a-mas
Why don't you just stay
Up where it's cold and gay?
(p.s. we should go for a drink x)
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