Tag: Life

I’m not a big fan of this show. I probably should be something about it just never really rang true with me in the past.

When Mr. Ecclestone took on the role I watched the first of those and, mostly underwhelmed I didn’t bother watching many others. Then Mr. Tennant came along so I thought I’d give him a shot but, again, it just wasn’t working for me.

Regardless I tuned in last night to watch.. er… wossisname take his turn as the new Doctor and, you know what, I might just tune in again next week.

It might have been that the dialogue seemed sharper (“You’re Scottish, fry something”), it might have been that I prefer wossisname to Tennant, and yes I’m willing to admit that the cute red-headed might well have swayed me (although, seriously, the kissogram outfit, was that really necessary?), but I really enjoyed the show.

So, as well as everything else going on in my life at the moment, I also have to contend with being a .. Who-ite? What do you call yourselves? But hey, it could be worse, I could be watching Caprica, ugh!

Travelling back from London last week, I landed at Glasgow on time so knew I had 30 minutes to kill until I was getting picked up. Plenty of time for a coffee and to continue reading the book that had held me engrossed for the short flight.

Seating was at a premium, but I spotted a low, comfy looking seat over by the window, across from a man who was sitting quietly, staring out the window. I enquired if the seat was taken, he assured me it wasn’t.

I sat down and, as I tipped some sugar into my coffee he turned to me and asked where I was going.

“Ohh I’m actually just back from London, just waiting on getting picked up. You?”
“I’m waiting too, my wife lands in three hours and I know I’m a bit early but I’ve not seen her three months as she couldn’t get a work permit”, he said.

And so I found myself chatting to a complete stranger about how he had travelled to China to receive treatment for a rare disease, a disease that had brought about the end of his 15 year long marriage, and how he had met and fallen for one of the nurses who had cared for him whilst he was there.

He was very open, talking about how close to death he had been, about his divorce, and about how excited he was to be seeing his new wife again. He talked with passion about China, the people and the culture, he talked with fondness about his wife, and his ex-wife, he told me about how his sons had been accepting and understanding, and the whole time he smiled.

I don’t know his name. I don’t know if his wife’s plane landed on time, I don’t know if his disease will kill him in the next few years, or whether he will out live me.

But I like to think she turned up and they are as happy as he looked that day when he was talking to me.

It’s still dark and somewhere two birds are singing, beautiful trills and chirrups fill the air.

My head is full of other things though, but then it usually is, and right now it seems to be full of random thoughts about work.

Which is why, I think, I’m awake.

I’m a bit pissed off with my brain to be honest, it knows fine well I’m not feeling well yet did everything it could to urge me from my slumber and, despite my best efforts to stay tucked up under the warm sanctuary of the duvet, an hour after wakening I decide to give up and get up.

I’m sure I’ll be fine. You only need 5 hours sleep, right?

Of course getting up at 5am signals to a certain small black cat that perhaps, maybe, there might be the possibility of, if it’s not too much trouble, and if I remind you by nibbling on your leg every 10 seconds, it might just be time to put some cat food into a bowl.

He’s two hours too early though so tough.

Instead I’ll sit here quietly, listening to the dawn symphony and ponder the beautiful things in life.

Because, frankly, TV at 5am is utterly shit.

Saturday morning, a list clutched in my hand as we ventured out early. A few things to buy, a couple of things to do, a productive day stretched ahead.

Saturday afternoon, things have been bought, and one item on the list has been started but not finished.

This is largely due to the rapid onset of a sore throat, possibly brought about whilst trying (and failing) to wash the car using a Karcher pressure washer that we inherited from the my in-laws.

I always know when I’m not well, I tend to be a ‘sleeper’ when I’m ill as I very quickly lose all sense of energy and waves of complete lethargy wash over me. My legs become wobbly and unstable, and so I sleep. And sleep.

Admittedly the Calcutta Cup game didn’t help with said lethargy…

At this point I should probably tell the story of the time I was very ill, knew I was very ill but my Mother sent me to school anyway.

Long story short, I had the chickenpox and a day or so later I was bed-ridden and delirious. It might well have been the most ill I’ve ever been. And my Mother sent me to school. Happy Mother’s Day? Sheesh!!

Looking back, whilst I didn’t realise how ill I was, it was the same type of symptoms that I get today. Doesn’t seem to matter HOW ill I am, it’s the same type of thing, and the same solutions apply. Sleep and cravings for comfort food.

So, after 11 hours sleep last night I managed to crawl out of my death bed and visit my Mum to make sure she knows just how fab she is, and that I really, truly, don’t hold any grudges about that day.

Now, have I ever mentioned how my Mum wouldn’t let me have a denim jacket when I was younger?

And there I met some people I know, and some I don’t know, and hobnobbed with celebrities (not really), and ate and drank and walked about a lot and even went and stood in a big black box that was very very dark indeed.

The main reason I was in London was to attend a book launch, at the Groucho club. You know, the ones celebrities (and as it turns out, non-celebrities) fall out of a lot. The book in question was Girl with a One Track Mind Exposed which is a most excellent, moving and filthy read. It also marks the second time I’ve been mentioned in a book (in the Acknowledgements no less!) which was something I only found out on Monday night at the launch itself and which I’ll happily confessed I’m hugely touched and honoured by.

The party was fun and after arriving a little later than others (and spoiling their moment) much free drink and merriment was had. Obligatory name dropping follows. I didn’t talk to either Ben Miller (of Armstrong & Miller), David Mitchell (of Mitchell & Webb), Jay Rayner (of Claire Rayner’s womb), or Heather Brooke (of that whole MP expense scandal (as in she worked on it, not was involved in it) at least I think it was her).

There may have been other celebrities/people who have been on TV there but I’m terrible with names. I’m pretty bad at keeping up with people at the best of times, this is something made a lot hard when said people are bloggers, so I hope my surprise at hearing that two bloggers whom I’ve read for many years are, completely unbeknownst to me, happily married was taken as exactly that. I really wasn’t kidding, I didn’t have a clue.

There is a tale involving David Mitchell but I’ll let the perpetrator tell it. I did feel a bit sorry for the parties involved, a bit. And as usual it was good to put names to faces, although I do now wish I’d been wearing a cravat…

Tuesday and I spent the day wandering random parts of London, stopping off for a quick perusal of a large steel box in the Tate Modern. I’m still very much in the learning phase of ‘art’ and perhaps I should’ve taken mike up on his offer of spending sometime wandering the Gorky exhibition. It was via Twitter that he realised we were both there at the same time, but I didn’t want to intrude on his day too much and I was also quite enjoying wandering about on my own .. another time though, I do badly need educated on that whole ‘art’ thing (hmmm, perhaps I should stop ‘quoting’ it like that for starters).

And then to the National Film Theatre bar where I spent a quite hour nursing sore feet and a large gin and tonic, and waited for a very random group of wonderful and most excellent people who I’m still amazed can be arsed to trawl to a somewhat hard to find bar just because I’ve said I’m there. It still baffles me somewhat and I console myself be remembering that they are all there to see everyone, and that I’m more than happy to be the catalyst for such an event, rather than the main attraction (god forbid!).

All in all a good couple of days in London, which was all down to the company I kept. You guys are fantastic.