17 August - Various
So, this always happens. I don't know how other bloggers do it, I think they blog every evening about the day's events or every morning about yesterday's events. I don't seem to manage any of these two protocols because ... I'm hardly ever home doing nothing in the evening so that's out of the window. I come in... I go to bed. Clearly awake for a while longer but... not typing. And in the morning life takes over (in the form of 'Shit, why do I always fall for sex in the morning and look I'm late for work). Later in the day I jot down a few lines about what I may want to blog about eventually and the later becomes... a week and I haven't expanded. And I don't use computers at the week end.
But in case anyone is on this page regularly and sees a blank space where a week should be, here's what I will eventually 'cover' in a retro-active sort of way:
Fruitstock (again) - maybe I'll ditch this, was a couple of weekends ago.
ok am now writing this two weeks later just to experiment with what it would all be like with distance and would I care for hal of what i do/did. Furitstock was pleasant as sun was hot that day. We sat with friend and child who had missed going on holiday with wife and two other siblings as eldest child was not updated on parents passport. Much money wasted later in rebooking flights meant they got to go to the Med. on the same day we then wandered to.. below
The East London '1 2 3 4' festival and Har Mar Superstar 'Ladies! I'm single! Who wants to fuck me' rally call
this was probably a bridge to far to do in one day and without a car having decided to give Ken support and using London transport which on a rare sunny day meant half the tube drivers had called in sick so it took forever. We got there and it was ugly. By which I mean I can share the sentiments of sean mcclusky in bringing a small festival to a parched and ugly field off the Commercial Road but it felt just wrong and the music was nothing special. I enjoyed looking at the kids who totally remind me of people/us I used to know 25 years ago or so. Everyone is a version of someone I knew, the Art school kid, the skinny punk, the 50's retro girl, the I wish I was in the Factory girls and boys (both Warhol and Manchester) but the game pales after a while. We did get to meet some friends and we did get to walk back to Kings Cross via the canalside with Toph having to admit some backstreets of Islington/Angel are not bad. But it then took forever to get on Hamm/City line and we must have been tired as got on Circle line instead, missed a stop ended up having to find a cab and basically called Ken a C unt several times. Well me, T doesn't use the word.
Prince's gig
What can I say, I was lucky to go on a good night when he did a long show as opposed to night some friends went to where he shaved off 40 mins off the set I saw. It all felt to short in any case, could have gone on and on and yes, right now there's an element of pantomime. Possibly having to use the stage in such a way that disperses energy with the band in a semi pit and he didn't do the splits because perhaps he's not so supple anymore. Plus when you play in the round the sound is never that good but no gripes. My friend R. had gone to see Babs Streisand a few weeks before and that was a total con what with her not being on stage for long sections left in the hands of the young tenors/singers she had drafted in. It's good to singalong. Cheers you up even if you can't sing and I can't. A puzzle though... Everywhere we looked there were families of obese people. The row in front of us had mum, dad, and two daughters. His neck was as big as my leg. It was... bizarre. Again a white affair. Prince is not cutting edge.
D.'s Sunday lunch and Brick lane mini bar crawl
this was good. TV friend of Toph with terrace in modern block in Brick Lane. Lovely food and enough people there I already knew to make it nice and informal. Plus met three new ones and ended up on a mini bar crawl till late. Nothing of much interest can have been said as I can't remember it and only remember the name of the woman, B. , not of the guys but at the time it was relaxing enough.
A. and Richard Branson
am now not supposed to write about this.. but it's to do with work not anything more interesting. Just a good gig a friend of a friend got. And we're jealous.
The Proms
Lovely Mahler and some lieders sung by amazing German baritone. Was only able to stay for first half but totally think places like that where you have to be more silent than a tibetan monk are a modern form of enforced meditation. You close your eyes and you're off. Majorly old people though... and not full on the night Paarvo Jarvi was conducting.
The K. /Candace Bushell/ James Purefoy/private club empire owner/Ibiza thing
Roka dinner and Boujis night
young friend's birthday dinner. Mega expensive at Roka but good, shame Natalie Portman not there on our night. Got to talk to the wanna be suave SD who has written his own Wikipedia entry and makes himself sound totally mega interesting. There's a good dose of self-aggrandising involved, it's the way he tells it. You see Emmy nominated producer and in the context of it you think Emmy winner but it turns out he was part of the production team for a series of which some progs were Emmy nominated. Anyway, if you don't do your own PR then who doees. He was dining with young architect g/friend but not the one who may be mother of his kids shortly. We had a strange exchange about my BF but I'm rather pleased with my repartee. He said something about maybe I need to tie the BF to a chair and get the strap on out. I looked at him and said 'S. , stop projecting... but if you want me to come round...'. He didn't blush though.
We then went on to Boujis were we had a table booked but they kept us waiting outside in a queue long enough to see who else was going in there and we thought 'Is this the clientele? Oh no, young arab princes and assorted Chelsea wannabees, no, no, no !' So we taxied back home still tasting the lovely black cod and other delicacies served at Roka. B'day girl had no stamina anyway, was half asleep on boyfriend's shoulder when I was still up for a dance.
J. (the champagne king) and the CIA woman in Arizona
The Pigalle night
was fab, with Michel from Prince's band doing a fantastic job of whipping up a frenzy of excitement and musicians outdoing each other. But there was a better night to come of which.. later. Luca who plays guitar for Natasha Bedingfield is a dish though...
The Lucky voice night
Against my better judgement I followed 7 other women to this and acquitted myself ok with covering Bjork covering It's Oh So Quiet! Shhhh, Shhhhh. Yes, that and the Supremes, they're easy. However, saying no to alcohol when pisshead friend no. 1 keeps wanting to make everyone drink is very hard. Oh and the louder the volume, the more you raise your voice, the sooner you get hoarse and so on. I passed on original other choices such as Hong Kong Garden by the Banshees as the lyrics seemed very crap. And nobody would have known Talking Heads in my group so I'd have been weird.
FR. and the Thai woman plus B. the current g/friend of a few years - imminent mormon style relationship arrangement
The Chinawhite night
After the missed night at Boujis I had to take birthday girl somewhere and she enjoyed Chinawhite which had not changed since I last went there five years ago or so. If anything it was all BB wannabees which makes you want to puke. And as usual only guys with 'tables' (ie. guaranteed spend on expensive bottles) and all the girls vieying for a chance to join them or not. Some guys can buy all the champagne you like and still you wouldn't go there. Feminism never happened. Or girls spend their cash on handbags and not on securing a private table. Don't know. This reminds me that when I went there five years ago, maybe it was longer than five, I met this guy who didn't seem that attractive to start with but grew on me and when I went back with him, as you do, had one of those nights where you throw all the furniture around in the pursuit of more and more sex. He was great. However by 'date' no. 3 he had turned into a self-gratifying male who didn't spend much time on me so it ended quite amicably and I still remember his name, LG.
IVF
A.' s rape
More tales from the beauty and fashion world
Summer sex
It's great when you don't sleep under covers and come back from late night bathroom visit to see the sated and happy shape of your lover asleep, looking angelic and not snoring. Bliss.
See my predicatment? It's all too much. Too many late nights and in case anyone ever wonders if am making them up and if all of the above happened in one week (minus the two 'old events'), I'm well known for fitting in more than one event per evening. Other people find it exhausting but not me. I maintain that if you don't get drunk (alcohol depletes your energies like nothing else I know) you can keep going. But for example a friend who I invited to a drink on Saturday if she's free, replied to say it was going to be one of her busiest days of the year with 5 parties to go to, 2 in the day time and 3 in the evening. Instead of saying 'That's just mad!', I was thinking of how much it would cost to hire a driver for the day and have him ferry me from one event to the other without spending time and stress on London Transport. In fact, that's what she should definitely consider.
Uh ho, I feel better for seeing in black and white what I will have to tackle. There is of course a suggestion I never follow, whch is to just do a short paragraph instead of a long one. Concise is not a word anyone would apply to me. Or just not bother? Don't all agree at once.
But in case anyone is on this page regularly and sees a blank space where a week should be, here's what I will eventually 'cover' in a retro-active sort of way:
Fruitstock (again) - maybe I'll ditch this, was a couple of weekends ago.
ok am now writing this two weeks later just to experiment with what it would all be like with distance and would I care for hal of what i do/did. Furitstock was pleasant as sun was hot that day. We sat with friend and child who had missed going on holiday with wife and two other siblings as eldest child was not updated on parents passport. Much money wasted later in rebooking flights meant they got to go to the Med. on the same day we then wandered to.. below
The East London '1 2 3 4' festival and Har Mar Superstar 'Ladies! I'm single! Who wants to fuck me' rally call
this was probably a bridge to far to do in one day and without a car having decided to give Ken support and using London transport which on a rare sunny day meant half the tube drivers had called in sick so it took forever. We got there and it was ugly. By which I mean I can share the sentiments of sean mcclusky in bringing a small festival to a parched and ugly field off the Commercial Road but it felt just wrong and the music was nothing special. I enjoyed looking at the kids who totally remind me of people/us I used to know 25 years ago or so. Everyone is a version of someone I knew, the Art school kid, the skinny punk, the 50's retro girl, the I wish I was in the Factory girls and boys (both Warhol and Manchester) but the game pales after a while. We did get to meet some friends and we did get to walk back to Kings Cross via the canalside with Toph having to admit some backstreets of Islington/Angel are not bad. But it then took forever to get on Hamm/City line and we must have been tired as got on Circle line instead, missed a stop ended up having to find a cab and basically called Ken a C unt several times. Well me, T doesn't use the word.
Prince's gig
What can I say, I was lucky to go on a good night when he did a long show as opposed to night some friends went to where he shaved off 40 mins off the set I saw. It all felt to short in any case, could have gone on and on and yes, right now there's an element of pantomime. Possibly having to use the stage in such a way that disperses energy with the band in a semi pit and he didn't do the splits because perhaps he's not so supple anymore. Plus when you play in the round the sound is never that good but no gripes. My friend R. had gone to see Babs Streisand a few weeks before and that was a total con what with her not being on stage for long sections left in the hands of the young tenors/singers she had drafted in. It's good to singalong. Cheers you up even if you can't sing and I can't. A puzzle though... Everywhere we looked there were families of obese people. The row in front of us had mum, dad, and two daughters. His neck was as big as my leg. It was... bizarre. Again a white affair. Prince is not cutting edge.
D.'s Sunday lunch and Brick lane mini bar crawl
this was good. TV friend of Toph with terrace in modern block in Brick Lane. Lovely food and enough people there I already knew to make it nice and informal. Plus met three new ones and ended up on a mini bar crawl till late. Nothing of much interest can have been said as I can't remember it and only remember the name of the woman, B. , not of the guys but at the time it was relaxing enough.
A. and Richard Branson
am now not supposed to write about this.. but it's to do with work not anything more interesting. Just a good gig a friend of a friend got. And we're jealous.
The Proms
Lovely Mahler and some lieders sung by amazing German baritone. Was only able to stay for first half but totally think places like that where you have to be more silent than a tibetan monk are a modern form of enforced meditation. You close your eyes and you're off. Majorly old people though... and not full on the night Paarvo Jarvi was conducting.
The K. /Candace Bushell/ James Purefoy/private club empire owner/Ibiza thing
Roka dinner and Boujis night
young friend's birthday dinner. Mega expensive at Roka but good, shame Natalie Portman not there on our night. Got to talk to the wanna be suave SD who has written his own Wikipedia entry and makes himself sound totally mega interesting. There's a good dose of self-aggrandising involved, it's the way he tells it. You see Emmy nominated producer and in the context of it you think Emmy winner but it turns out he was part of the production team for a series of which some progs were Emmy nominated. Anyway, if you don't do your own PR then who doees. He was dining with young architect g/friend but not the one who may be mother of his kids shortly. We had a strange exchange about my BF but I'm rather pleased with my repartee. He said something about maybe I need to tie the BF to a chair and get the strap on out. I looked at him and said 'S. , stop projecting... but if you want me to come round...'. He didn't blush though.
We then went on to Boujis were we had a table booked but they kept us waiting outside in a queue long enough to see who else was going in there and we thought 'Is this the clientele? Oh no, young arab princes and assorted Chelsea wannabees, no, no, no !' So we taxied back home still tasting the lovely black cod and other delicacies served at Roka. B'day girl had no stamina anyway, was half asleep on boyfriend's shoulder when I was still up for a dance.
J. (the champagne king) and the CIA woman in Arizona
The Pigalle night
was fab, with Michel from Prince's band doing a fantastic job of whipping up a frenzy of excitement and musicians outdoing each other. But there was a better night to come of which.. later. Luca who plays guitar for Natasha Bedingfield is a dish though...
The Lucky voice night
Against my better judgement I followed 7 other women to this and acquitted myself ok with covering Bjork covering It's Oh So Quiet! Shhhh, Shhhhh. Yes, that and the Supremes, they're easy. However, saying no to alcohol when pisshead friend no. 1 keeps wanting to make everyone drink is very hard. Oh and the louder the volume, the more you raise your voice, the sooner you get hoarse and so on. I passed on original other choices such as Hong Kong Garden by the Banshees as the lyrics seemed very crap. And nobody would have known Talking Heads in my group so I'd have been weird.
FR. and the Thai woman plus B. the current g/friend of a few years - imminent mormon style relationship arrangement
The Chinawhite night
After the missed night at Boujis I had to take birthday girl somewhere and she enjoyed Chinawhite which had not changed since I last went there five years ago or so. If anything it was all BB wannabees which makes you want to puke. And as usual only guys with 'tables' (ie. guaranteed spend on expensive bottles) and all the girls vieying for a chance to join them or not. Some guys can buy all the champagne you like and still you wouldn't go there. Feminism never happened. Or girls spend their cash on handbags and not on securing a private table. Don't know. This reminds me that when I went there five years ago, maybe it was longer than five, I met this guy who didn't seem that attractive to start with but grew on me and when I went back with him, as you do, had one of those nights where you throw all the furniture around in the pursuit of more and more sex. He was great. However by 'date' no. 3 he had turned into a self-gratifying male who didn't spend much time on me so it ended quite amicably and I still remember his name, LG.
IVF
A.' s rape
More tales from the beauty and fashion world
Summer sex
It's great when you don't sleep under covers and come back from late night bathroom visit to see the sated and happy shape of your lover asleep, looking angelic and not snoring. Bliss.
See my predicatment? It's all too much. Too many late nights and in case anyone ever wonders if am making them up and if all of the above happened in one week (minus the two 'old events'), I'm well known for fitting in more than one event per evening. Other people find it exhausting but not me. I maintain that if you don't get drunk (alcohol depletes your energies like nothing else I know) you can keep going. But for example a friend who I invited to a drink on Saturday if she's free, replied to say it was going to be one of her busiest days of the year with 5 parties to go to, 2 in the day time and 3 in the evening. Instead of saying 'That's just mad!', I was thinking of how much it would cost to hire a driver for the day and have him ferry me from one event to the other without spending time and stress on London Transport. In fact, that's what she should definitely consider.
Uh ho, I feel better for seeing in black and white what I will have to tackle. There is of course a suggestion I never follow, whch is to just do a short paragraph instead of a long one. Concise is not a word anyone would apply to me. Or just not bother? Don't all agree at once.
posted by Lisa Taylor @ 2:16 AM
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