The Shins at The Forum, Kentish Town

Virtually Free Bar

I am not accustomed to having drinks bought for me. This is something new. Why it has come about, I am not entirely certain. I have a number of surmises:

1. It has to do with going out with Scottish Housemate, who, let's face it, is a good looking girl.
2. My recently acquired Single status.
3. My recently achieved GI Jane status. (In case you haven't, check my footer).
4. My irresistible charm. No? OK, I'll pick #1 as the most likely candidate.

Last night saw another tres fun evening in Camden, which although lasted from 3pm to 4am, didn't bankrupt me, despite a continuous flow of alcohol, entry into a night club and a cab ride home. Should I be having this much fun at my age?

Of course Sunday was a virtual write off, particularly when I discovered that the time had changed and I lost yet another hour lying in bed willing my water bottle to miraculously fill itself and empty its delicious contents into my sandpaper and cotton wool mouth so that I could stop speaking in Khoisan Bushman dialect. Sadly, eventually, and with a little help from Amy Winehouse, I extricated myself from duvet-entanglement and did it myself. One thing led to another which led to having to clothe myself and trundle down the road for a 4pm breakfast fry-up with the guilty party (see #1). I love lazy Sundays.

s'kceB

The backup friend

St. Patrick's Day. Not a good idea at the best of times. Yet, Scottish Housemate and I decided to brave it, and ventured forth. Both of us have an explicable fondness for Camden after dark. We tried the Barfly, but upon encountering "Police Line Do Not Cross" starting from the Lock Tavern and extending for most of the rest of the block, we about-turned and meandered in a different direction. The World's End seemed like a good choice. And it was very enjoyable. Good enough music, reasonable access to the bar, and place to stand without being jostled. Scottish Housemate got some male attention...one of the hopefuls actually, in front of me, referred to me as "the backup friend". Mmm, good luck calling that number she gave you.

Puggy!

OK I know it's rather a strange name for a band; well it's rather a strange name fullstop.

Nevertheless, ever since I was first introduced to Puggy in 2006, I have hearted them. Finally, after some missed opportunities, last night took me to Tommy Flynn's to see them play. My first Puggy gig, and I was not disappointed. They were pretty great. "Sorry" is my favourite at the moment...but they're all awesome.

Oh, and I might have a serious crush on Matthew Irons.

Gobbets

Today was a day off work courtesy of one of my 'use or lose' days. I was messing around with some words, trying to put them to good use. "A poem perhaps?" I had bravely suggested to myself when I sat down at the kitchen table. The glorious rays of sunlight streaming through the patio doors had obviously immediately to set work on melting my brains, because as a result of that seemingly innocuous decision, I spent a hearty chunk of the morning wiping my nose with my sleeve as tears streamed down my face. Needless to say, those particular words have since been packed back into the box as, clearly, I am not yet ready for them.

Welcome distraction came in the form of my Chelsea Dagger ring tone. With a small sniffle I answered my phone hesitantly. It was Scottish Housemate. She suggested the theatre. That cheered me up a great deal and, later, after a light dinner reminiscent of the Frasier theme song (tossed salad and scrambled eggs for those of you not paying attention) we high-heeled it to Leicester Square. Why does no one dress for the theatre these days? That is not to say we did, in fact the heels were our only salute to that concept, but wouldn't it be fun if people still did?

Anyway, we were lucky enough to get tickets to The History Boys. It's brilliant.

Irwin: "For what it’s worth, I sympathise with your feelings about examinations, but they are a fact of life. I’m sure you want them to do well and the gobbets you have taught them might just tip the balance."
Hector: "What did you call them? Gobbets? Is that what you think they are, gobbets? Handy little quotes that can be trotted out to make a point? Gobbets? Codes, spells, runes – call them what you like, but do not call them gobbets."
Irwin: "I just thought it would be useful …. "
Hector: "Oh, it would be useful … every answer a Christmas tree hung with the appropriate gobbets. Except that they’re learned by heart. And that is where they belong and like the other components of the heart not to be defiled by being trotted out to order. "

The Charlotte Church Show

Channel 4, Friday 9th March 2007, 10 p.m. Look for me on The Charlotte Church Show! I just spent four hours queueing, waiting, queueing, clapping (Levels 1, 2 and 3), laughing (clean laugh, short laugh) and ooohing and aaahing. I, yes I, was in the audience during the taping of Friday's show. Call me naive but I really believed that the show was not only live (not) but also that it flowed smoothly from one piece to the next. No. They take and retake; we clap and reclap; we laugh and relaugh. Damn, it's tiring. My cheeks ache from smiling. Still, I saw Hilary Duff two feet away (she is but tiny) and Chris Moyles was quite fun. Jamelia I can take or leave. Sorry hun. Nice dress though. Charlotte herself, what can I say, a legend, I do love her.

How To Become A Writer

There has been much talk in the past from my lips to your ears about me and my attempts to be a Proper Writer. I'm still on about it. More than a year and a half since I decided to work on my novel, I have decided to work on my novel.

I am sure that if I bothered to look on The Internet, I would find a hundred WikiHows to tell me about what Real Writers are made of. I don't know what ingredients I need, but these are the ingredients I have:

• Bunches of angst and flagging self-confidence in my Talent and Ability to Write Properly... countered by inestimable measures of But I Love Writing and I Really Really Want To Be a Proper Writer
• A folder C:\My Computer\My Documents\Writing which is full of bits and pieces waiting patiently for my considered attention
• Lots of Very Good but Useless Reference Books with titles such as Word Power and Weird and Wonderful Words and How Not To Say What You Mean and so on
• A novel which I prepared earlier (Personally, I think this is the most useful ingredient apart from Talent and Ability to Write Properly)
• A nome de plume/pseudonym/pen-name, should this be necessary

So, the cupboard is not exactly bare...surely something can come of this?