21 October - Shoreditch House & Schnabel

Like all private clubs when they're in the early days of their popularity, they can be a bit arsy. I mean, not so full on a sunday and still demanding all sorts of compliances to rules etc (if you invite a party of friends, whey won't have access to the rooftop pool, they need to eat from a set menu, blah blah blah), but in the end it all works out ok thanks to the ebullient X. who practically lives there. It's sunny, we have a great day. I play cupid (I hope) to the two least camp and most macho gay men I know. Will I attend my first civil ceremony next year I wonder?
Then we go see The Diving Bell and the Butterfly and as I wait in the lobby some woman arrivees and tells the guestlist people that Damien Hirst is not coming. Ahhh... Must be at home counting Swarovsky crystals (you don't really believe they're real diamonds on that skull do you?). We like the film, we like the Q&A, we'd like to go on to the party but we're all very tired and go home reflecting on what would we do if we had a stroke tomorrow. We're already older than the protagonist of the movie. And one of us is 50 and she's dating a 28 year old who seems to be doting on her. Way to go. I'd say if the stroke comes tomorrow, she has good memories already.