Over the past two weeks*, I have partaken of food or drink with the following:
The source of my Y chromosome, the source of my mitochondrial DNA, the source of her mitochondrial DNA, a GP (retired), a faux-Liverpudlian, a globe-trotter, a zombie star and the owner of a pink BlackBerry pearl. Then there was the boy with the black car, the girl with the giant lawnmower (fictive) and the revolutionary who always made it to school. Someone only wanted a little wine, another desired only her lover, while my tea (milk, no sugar) with a third was only grudgingly allowed. Three more joined me for hot, tasty chips, carried home through a dark autumn evening and tasting all the better for it. I stayed talking with a future investment banker (perhaps) until closing time. A man in a blue shirt bought me a glass of wine (small) as a team discussed tactics. And let’s certainly not forget my employer, my compatriot, two tweeters and their proud father. Or the homeless man I took to Costa yesterday who, Brent informs me, fails to meet their ‘vulnerability criteria’. I bet he’s cold tonight.
(*Measured from about 6ish yesterday.)
Required: even more shelf space
Thank you, Caius, for your final parting gift of book tokens 
Wandering about Waterstone’s Piccadilly was just such enormous fun, and I now have a great pile of books to add to my already great piles of books to read. Yay! Books are awesome. [Pre-emptive reply to sarky comments about the lack of fiction: (a) 40% of that is fiction! (b) there are many classic books downstairs in the office that I plan on reading, too.]
So the trip to Waterstone’s was merely one part of a great day out with Katie which also included Forbidden Planet, dodgem cars and an assortment box of Krispy Kremes. Awesome in and of itself, obviously, but you haven’t seen who we bumped into yet…
A bottle of True Blood
Katie and me
Katie and (gasp) Noel Clarke!
I’m sure it could get annoying to be accosted by fans every time you pop down with some mates into the geek joy that is Forbidden Planet, but nonetheless he was very gracious about it, so hurrah. (Who shall be next celebrity spot on this blog, I wonder? My money’s on Mary Wollstonecraft.)
Working backwards in time: yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting up for lunch with Maryam, who is busy sitting actual interviews for actual jobs in offices and suchlike. Get her. We then ended up with a bunch of medical students at King’s bar, who I naturally got talking to me all about their school lives, because these days I can openly do so with an apologetic smile and a “it’s part of my job to ask this, you see…”. And then last weekend was spent visiting the ever-wonderful Andy Kings in Bradford – which I’m reliably informed is up North a bit – and just generally chilling out, whether it be to Goodness Gracious Me in the media museum (forever funny), X-Factor joys (which doesn’t really deserve italics) or The Social Network. I can echo Abbi and Paul’s earlier recommendations for this film, if for nothing else than for Aaron Sorkin’s razor sharp dialogue which is instantly familiar to anyone who’s ever seen any West Wing. Having said that, I can’t help but feel a bit sorry for poor old Mark Zuckerberg, even though (all things considered) the film finishes on a rather sympathetic note. I’m sure most of us could have our youth portrayed unflatteringly, if only we did anything noteworthy enough to get noticed.
I actually really like this view
Playing Space Invaders (not fantastically well)
Enjoying th’ paper with a pint
It must be love, love, love…
Ah, Paris. In the endless internal debate over whether I feel more American or European, there’s nothing like a quick trip to Paris to remind me that actually I mostly feel like a Londoner: a big city lover who respects anywhere else that has a kick-ass underground system. And really, there is something truly magical about walking to Willesden Green station and then not leaving either a train or a station building until you emerge in the middle of another country. Of course, not speaking the language might have been a bit of an issue – scroll to around 2.27 for more – but luckily I was expertly guided around by Tash and Beth (thanks guys). And speaking of Tash – it was just really, really nice to hang out with her again – and I’m totally looking forward to visiting Manchester already
More photos on Facebook, but here’s a taster:
Hitting the art (before Disneyland…)
Enjoying cocktails
(I love the fact that there’s an actual man or woman here we’ll never see)
Yeah. We totally met him.
At the top of the rollercoaster, just before the plunge
One final thing about Paris: as much as the ‘world city culture’ was very much in evidence – albeit with admittedly more beautiful surroundings – one thing that really struck me as different from Britain was the presence of the army. I’m sure it’s just what you grow up with, but as a Brit, I still find it a little odd when you see our own police officers armed with guns. Much as it may be sometimes necessary, I can’t help but feel glad that we still don’t consider it necessary for our police to be armed as a matter of course. Yet in France, not only were the police armed but so too were on-duty soldiers: most incongruously, just outside Disneyland, where they could so easily have been costumes and props but were, of course, real soldiers with real weapons. I’m not saying any of this really matters much: obviously, the British state could call in the army to its own streets if it wanted to, and has done so in the past. It’s just a feeling, and maybe a romantic one, that most of the time we don’t want or need such an obvious show of force to live in peace.
On a more prosaic note, yesterday was dad’s birthday and so – back in London – the family went out for a really nice dinner and then, as a surprise, News Revue. (See, told you I’d mention it again…) Which now means their song parodies are ever more firmly lodged in my head!
And finally – you might want to check out Regimented, a new site set up by Alex Trafford to host a series of debates on a variety of topics. I’ve kicked off the proposition for the opening debate on digital piracy, which – I should point out – is a position that was arbitrarily assigned, as it will be for everyone. Nothing on the site necessarily represents what any of us actually personally believe. But if you are interested, give it a read…
In the old days, things were simple. You worked at school from Monday to Friday, and then come Friday afternoon there was a magic moment where ‘the weekend’ would finally start. Since school ended it’s never been quite the same, so it was actually a little nostalgic this week to find myself hurriedly typing away on Friday afternoon, determined to have everything done in time to make Amber’s 18th birthday party with a clean conscience. This I did, and had a thoroughly good time in return. An interesting crowd: filled with people I know a little but not a lot, and testament to Amber’s ability to draw together just about anyone. (She has high eigenvector centrality, you might say. (Or maybe you mightn’t. Up to you.)) And it is neat to unknowingly re-meet people which Facebook later claims you actually knew over a decade ago.
Anyway, I also got a new brand out of Friday night: Geek Corner (TM), after Saoirse, Alex, Grace and I clustered together to talk about Twitter and suchlike. (Mostly Twitter, though.) Geek Corner was awesome – so awesome, in fact, that we’re proudly re-creating it tonight over mango beer. Although it does worry me slightly that at one point someone saw fit to ask cheerfully “how’s it going, intellectual people?” whilst passing between the hall and the Darkened Den of Cool. Intellectual? No no no… intellectuals smoke pipes and scribble on parchment. Intellectuals write clever stuff. Us? Twitter. Mostly Twitter.
And then last night I discovered something that I kick myself for not knowing about earlier: News Revue. Many thanks to Joshua for introducing me, because it’s a gem of a show, and this will certainly not be the last you hear about it on here. It’s basically just a satirical sketch show, updated weekly and with much singing and dancing, but done to a very high standard, running since 1979 and now housed in a cosy little theatre on top of a lovely pub. Win win win.
(As Josh and I fervently agreed over drinks afterwards: the world would be a poorer place without the great social institution of the pub. Not that we drink in anything like ‘traditional pubs’ of days gone by, of course – smoky, male-only, a little dingy and eerily quiet. But whatever you want to call it now – hurrah for the pub.)
Helen on It’s (waiting) time.: “Fabulous news, congratulations to you both! X” Jun 8, 21:51
