31 January - 7th wonder etc

A friend of the boyf has asked him to put his thinking cap on for ... mobile phone content etc.

He knows nothing about it and in fact is so old school that has old Nokia, so have I for that matter, we don't watch anything on our phone, don't even exchange photos or do any wireless connections. But I had asked him to forward anything she sends and am reading it and will probably go attend some forums and so on ... for the main reason that am bored of this getting old process and I want to mingle with younger people. At least that way I can hook up some cupid action which I can't do know - example 26 year female colleague wants to meet some single bloke, I say I'll have a think but she qualifies that wants no one above 30 so er, well I don't have any of those...
So I need new circles.
So Stacey and I went to a loft in Soho full of young creatives....

tbc.
for ....
and what did we find...

30 January - NY NY so good , er..

They're throwing flights to NY at you, BA and the rest but... having been recently after an absence of several years, I wouldn't hurry back. Basically, back in the days, one would go because of work and to see friends made because of work, or several of the London escapees who now worked and resided in NY, often in apartments we were dead jelous of, you know the ones with concierges! Or not even those, maybe a studio flat in Manhattan, but it was Manhattan, it was cool!
Now I have no reason, my friends there have dwindled to two max.

The time before this last visit I was in Pastis, in Balthasar, in wherever else was fashionable, having dinner with the guy who signed Joss Stone (and the rest) and brushing past Ralph Lauren on the stairs of I can't remember which club in Tribeca or thereabouts but ... it's (and probably was, though I just didn't get it) irrelevant. I'm past caring to go to the latest restaurant, I only had a pang when M. in NY said for his 50th b'day he was waiting for his best friend from Philly to come meet him after work and he was late and when he arrived they went for a walk and eventually the friend said 'We should go to Lucky Strike for a drink, for old times's sake' (M. used to work there) and when they got through the door it was 'SURPRISE!!!' and all his old gang was there. I wish I had gone. I wish it was still winter of 1986 or something, can't even rembember when I first went. Was it that late? Surely I was dying to go see Suicide at CBGB's or something. Think it was always on the list but somehow nothing brought me that way earlier than mid-80's... Ok am despondant, it is stil January after all and my holiday in the sun ended 20 days ago.

28 January - A4 & Art

From time to time I try to do stuff that somehow connects with a previous, younger life, and then decide that it makes no sense, but I still do it.
A recent example is that one of those companies that specialise in those things that matter to people who have products to sell, you know, organising focus groups, being at the cutting edge of emerging trends, predicting the future choices of consumers blah blah, sent an invite for an exhibition of art by Chinese students, on A4 sheets.

It appealed to me, the simplicity of the concept and I wanted to see the execution and the 'gallery' was said company loft space in Soho. So I invited Stacey along who works nearby with the promise of 'there must be cute young guys there'. And at 6.30 we were the first there, so we got our glass of sparkly, ate some chinese sweets, walked around - took all of ten /fifteen mins - and then sat on one of the sofas by the door and chatted for another 90 mins, all the while (me) checking arrivals for Stacey's dating potential, whilst she was talking about, among other things, married man who she's no longer seeing and will receive a Dear John email very soon. Yes, we need to write those 'it's over emails' to feel empowered, when the reality is that we always feel tremendously let down even further, when the recipient merely acknowledges receipt and does not reciprocates with even 5% of the level of care and sympathy we've put into writing ours, but I digress.

Of course all arrivals were arty/marketing/creatives some of whom I would have lusted over a few years ago, not sure about Stacey as she prefers her creatives to be more r' n' r and these days finds businessmen a better fit, but truly, there was nothing to tempt us off the sofa. Apart from anything else we really no longer have any common ground with this field, and indeed as the launch was filmed for a podcast, there's probably now some employee busy trying to work out who the two older women were (we were also not dressed for the occasion, very drab in my case)who gatecrashed and just had a drink and a chat. Didn't eat any of the noodles on offer though so don't feel too guilty.

But truly, we needed a venue to meet, but why do I bother? What's this compulsion to still at least be near young people though not having anything to say to them? I made it worse by going into Topshop as I was heading home. The array of funky tights on offer had me almost depressed. Here were dozens of styles I cannot wear (horizontal stripes in fluo colours anyone?) though in the queue to pay (I bought some almost plain purple ones and some crazy lacy blue ones for the bedroom, don't ask, Toph will like them) there two muttons dressed as lamb if I've ever seen some.
There was also a woman whose till rang to the tune of £520. How do you spend £520 in Topshop? Ok, I did notice some handbags for £80 and I thought it's meant to be a shop for teenagers, you can't charge that!. But still, I felt like some pervy old man in that cathedral to schoolkids.

I really need to stick to friends who run the UN or something. Don't know any but that's a more satisfying milieu at this point. Any invites?

27 January - Technology dramas

Ok so a few months ago L. told me I should get my friend G. to join us at the Pub Quiz becuase L. had some girlfriends who may be interested in him and what that he was seeing a newish girl already, O.? Nothing was set in stone in that area. So he came but no other single females materialised that night and he went home having had a good night but nothing to pursue.

Fast forward to now and having made the common mistake of not logging out of his Facebook whilst leaving the g/f to check her emails or something. So she read mine and L's exchanges with him about the Pub Quiz and some other stuff that's worse as around that time he sort of fucked a girl in the toilet of a club we'd gone to with him. In fact we had sort of played wingmen in that situation.

It's bad. Official girlfriend is convinced that Pub Quiz is some kind of code word for wife swapping or some such so he rang me to let me know she may call and have a go at me (she's never met L.)

I have no idea how he's going to explain the dancer either. I'd say that's more difficult. I mean, my pub quiz does exist and O. can come view it for herself.
I have also advised G. that since O. has been living with him for past few weeks as his landlord is away in Goa, and that we're two weeks short of Valentine, he may have the upper hand as O. would be foolish to ditch him in the run up to this date which fills single people with horror. I advised him to not keep apologising and leaving it be. How good am I?

But this begs the question of what will Obama do with his uncrackable blackberry? Nothing is really uncrackable, or rather it is but it's operated by us, idiots who forget to do stuff. I mean if he loses his BB when it's locked mabye it can't be unlocked or the messages viewed, but if he misplaces it when it's 'on' then what? does it have a screen that only comes to life if his eyes/pupils are looking at it? I need to know! And does he have a secret Facebook account?

25 January - Oxford Literary Quotations

We went to see 'Rachel Getting Married' which was a bit close to home as J's brother is a relapsing addict who disappears for ages, goes to prison, reappears and generally focuses all the family on himself. They're nice middle class so no shortage of support there but a slow, stressful strangling of parents and sibling's sympathy well. The film did a good job of showing how selfishly addicts act and was equally placed in an affluent and liberal family, but was overlong and tedious in places, though great performances.

Then we went home and without wanting to turn the TV on, Toph picked one of the books I'm trying to get him to get rid of (he has too many, don't just take the side of books, some are really not that relevant to your life) and started reading from the oxford dictionary of quotations and J. was playing ball with him. Most over my head of course, and the book was published in the late '70s so am sure in a more current edition some of these quotations have been expurged in favour of more modern or topical ones being included. Some were really dire, believe me.

But how much fun was that? With the boys finishing each other's sentences, how mighty learned of them.

I had to tell them that D. was all upset recently about "Since when did we start adopting the US spelling for aeroplane?" She said The Times coverage of plane landed on Hudson River in NYC said 'airplane' in the headline. I love it. Don't get us started on grammar and syntax.

Then I made the mistake of turning the TV on, on silent,but it was a great film so we watched most of Carlito’s Way which I have always loved for many reasons, though I think I shocked Toph by saying that I dated someone who looks like Al Pacino and is equally short. I know, I know, it's a niche fantasy as clearly Brad Pitt wins right?

All this to take J’s mind off the fact that his lover G’s boyfriend was actually in London this w/end and J. had all his london clothes in her flat but couldn’t go get them, was banished from contacting her and of course he was thinking about her and wouldn't be able to fall asleep anyway. He's a idiot and his situation is now very farcial, but I can't really comment.

22 January - Bored

As am now not currently fretting over job or home or lover that much and I don't want to invite any drama in my life just to alleviate the monotony, no thanks, I have just gone and added a new blog to this one. I've written some self explanatory notes in it and will start uploading stuff on it later on.

Other than that, how's this for a recession indicator? I went to the Coronet on Tuesday as they do movies for £3.50 on that day and for once they had two I fancy seeing (Slumdog and The Reader - there you go, a new title for your or... Millionaire Reader or the Reader as Slumdog). Both were sold out for both 6ish and 9ish screenings. Clearly the residents of one of the richest or the richest borough in London know how to save money. Ok, it's on the central line and those two films have just won globes and baftas and so on but I'd like to know what proportion of film goers from Harringey were in the audience. The old communist I never was in me, was basically saying, if we want to play the recession game, all should be means tested, there is no point making things cheaper for those who've lost a few tons with Madoff, they still have enough to go pay £12 for a movie. Rant over. Although if that's their local cinema, that's their local cinema. But please go on a Wednesday.

20 January - FC & Players

Never let it be said that my vast array of interests doesn't cover pretty much everything. Yes, ask away at a party and I'll be irritatingly well informed. So there, banks being nationalised is one thing but Kaka choosing to stay in Milan is another. I'm not a Milan FC fan, or a fan of any club in particular but I think people fail to consider often enough that players move or don't move to clubs because of where they are.

Now, I don't like Milan very much, would never chose to live there myself though maybe in winter I would. Bloody cold but you can go skiing...and in summer there's the lakes or a leetle private jet to Sardinia etc, but between Manchester and Milan...? No contest. Kind of funny though rejecting all those millions. If it was just about the football he'd have stayed in Brazil right? Ok I realise I've just said something fairly sacrilegious but one will never be able to really decide who plays the best football as a whole. And World Cup wins don't count.

19 Jan - Cash Money

No sooner have I sorted out a loan wiht Abbey - took 6 weeks and I won't catalogue all the mistakes that were made by... them, that the one at RBS may now not be so safe. The idiots at my solicitor had requested the RBS funds a whole few weeks before completion so suddenly I was paying a first mortgage installment BEFORE I actually get keys to new home, so I said er... give the money back to RBS and give me back the amount you took out prematurely, and only get it out when I actually have to hand it over to seller right? Right.

But maybe my solicitor knew something I didn't and I hope that having handed the money back to the biggest stupidest bank in these times of cretin chairmen and so on doesn't mean I have rejected their mortgage, 'cause I bloody well wouldn't get one now...

I'm seriously thinking of moving to Nigeria, at least there I would expect all sorts of crazy stuff going on with banks and not the incompetence that here subsitutes scams. Just to be clear about how stupendously incompetent they are, my loan with Abbey was approved in a name and surname that was not simply a misspelling of mine but a completely different entity, a Dr. Burnett in fact. Who he?

18 January - 'sleb w/end sightings

Yes I get around, but I was only going to see the Neil La Bute play (awful title) at the Almeida on Friday mainly because Steven MacIntosh is in it. And yes, I do remember J. who's worked with him saying he's happily married, 3 kids and so on.

At the bar is Keira K and boyfriend and some people wonder if she has a wig as her hair seems very thick. I don't know. I don't care because Iain Glenn has walked in wiht a woman friend too and he's much more interesting to me than KK. He's well Gorgeous!!!!

I could write more but you can read the reviews of the play elsewhere.

Then Martin McCutcheon was entering Beach Blanket Babylon as we exited to go eat cheap Thai up the road after finding the atmoshere of collective bankers on a night out pre-Maddox or other clubs where they hope to snag a model (though the model is out looking for beyond banker ie prince and they never get this basic misalignment of wishes) too oppressive. Toph was not well and on oj's and so was blathering on about 'Who are these people? why can they still drink £12 cocktails after fucking up the economy'. Which is not really a well thought out accusation, he's smarter than that usually.

Then on Sunday as I was gathering info on wardrobes at Conran, who should be sitting on a sofa but Alan Rickman (we're not worthy) last seen on my inbound plane into Heathrow in a sweet movie about Californian wines in 1976, 'Bottle Shock'.

In between I actually spent time chatting to people I know as opposed to people I spotted here and there.

16 January - Shoes... again

After wriggling toes free in the sand and turf and prancing about in heels at night, it's with some frustration at self that I notice upon returning to work that I reach for the boring boots, the even more boring boots and some other regular shoes that are comfortable.
This is not on. This spells descent into not caring (the bad hair is enough, must go sort out). So drastic measures are required. I cannot throw shoes away, obviosuly, but I can make a cull and consign the offendig ie. easy ones, to a box in the storage tunnel, or to be sure in the actual storage miles away from the abode. This way I can only use them when I'm really old (assuming I have no money then or not enough money to salvage old person's shoes from charity shops). But better still if I move to Mexico or Mumbai, then I don't need any of them at all. One thing I am very envious of is the reduced wardrobes of my friends in Yucatan. Sure they need heavy stuff for when they go to Canada, China, London and so on (regularly enough), but they stick to one puffa jacket and a few sweaters and some bad weather shoes, the rest of their wardrobe is sparse as does not need to contain all the never ending winter and rain stuff we have. Additionally they're not very camp gay men so they really get by with t-shirts, shorts and some trainers and man bags. Am very jealous.

15 January 09 - Over the Reef

A cautionary tale to pass on since one of my dearest friends who was on holiday with me for a few days nearly died in the week he was alone out there.
It all started with his desire to get away from the touristy beaches and the din of djs'. So he took his car to about 300km south of Playa del Carmen, and drove off to a deserted beach, parked and went for a swim.
He found a gap in the barrier reef and sort of signposted it to himself and swam on the other side (he is a very good swimmer, easily does 1km at the pool often enough). But upon looking for the gap on re-entry some giant swells had thrown up sand and sleet and he could no longer locate it. So he decided to swim alongside the barrier till he found another gap. Eventually he came to the end of the barrier and thought 'bingo'. But realised with horror that he was on the estuary of a river and became as powerful as a cork in trying to stay on top of the bottle of champagne. In a matter of minutes he was projected way out into the sea. By this point he'd been out swimming for a good couple of hours and had no strength to swim against the tide.

He says he kept hearing this song he'd heard when a water truck was delivering bottled water in San Cristobal, 'Raindrops are falling on my head', and he sort of felt he was going to be alright and calm, but I think it was sunstroke. He was sunburnt by now and floating on his back and the next thing he remembers is this old mayan featured mexican fisherman staring at him on the deck of his boat and saying things like 'gran pescado del dia'. So the fisherman took him back to shore where he thanked some gods in a little homemade altar.
His next, smaller, drama was trying to locate his car parked god knows where from the point where he was rescued. He walked a couple of miles fearful of the fact it was getting dark by now but having signposted the dirt track where he'd left it, he did find it. Next, he realised he had no strength in his arms to drive but managed to return 'home' in 3rd geer and steering with his knees.

And then he started having nightmares. He's back now and safe but I remember years ago in Sri Lanka a friend of mine who couldn't get back into the bay and by the time he staggered into the hotel beach we had been unaware that he'd seen his own death come calling. He's equally a strong swimmer so we paid no attnention to how long he was out there. And in fact never saw his signals of distress. He vomited for the day and was in bed shivering and scared shitless for another 2 days. After that he just stayed very very quiet.

So, all this to say, if it happens to strong swimmers, light swimmers take care of warnings of currents and so on. And poor swimmers like me do well to stick to 'where they can feel the ground under their feet'. Mega boring but why die?

I wonder what I. will do now that he's in post-trauma and wondering why it was not his time yet.

14 January - Downsizing & Downmarket

I seem to have survived the longest day of the knives at my workplace. It's all very well buying ailing companies but when one wants to carve yet more cash out, the first thing to do is cut some workforce in the lead up to the end of financial year. Personally I think if most people forsook their bonuses, dozens of people would not need to lose their jobs but hey, what do I know, I don't run a company so.

I sort of knew I'd be ok but the atmosphere was awful and though I am not a close friend of the now swiftly departed ex colleagues, it gets to you to see their disappointment and life in disarray. Especially the family ones. The not tied down by responsibilities, like moi, were probably thinking to do what my friend D. has done upon exiting Goldman Sachs (he's not a banker so not got away with a sack of cash but enough) and get thee to Goa straight away. My personal choice was/is Thailand and as my Murdoch victim friend D. will be there soon for a few weeks, it would have been great to finally see if my idea that a holiday followed by another holiday is the best thing that could happen, was indeed a good one. In the end having avoided the axe, I've also decided again the voluntary redundancy package and staid put. The legacy of being brought up 'sensible' which I hate my parents for. Staying put also means moving to the much hated site of Canary Wharf. I shall be moaning about that plenty in the coming weeks. I loathe the place. Make me an offer anyone, if it's in the West End and it's 9-5, am there.

However, the stress of yesterday made me fall asleep at 8pm with a backache I never usually get... This didn't stop Toph from 'administering' some not so relaxing sex. The amount of times I say things like 'You do what you want but I shall be pretty unrersponsive' and then er.. get involved. So am extra stupid at work today, and probably on this blog as well, as am busy populating 'drafts' for previous few weeks and not really getting to the point of what I want to say.

12 January - forget the passwords

How great is it to arrive back at work and not remember your passwords? To use your travel card to gain access to the building? To go to the gym and don't remember you need the £1 for the towel deposit and so on...
I will pat myself on the back for actually making it in despite the strong desire to just jack it in and never do a day's employment again.
But I also forgot I was still dealing with the ineptitude of banks (in my case Abbey but a moaning email to a friend produced a different but ultimately similar tale of shoddy professionalism over at Lloyds and I'm sure you all have one)and so discovered that something that should have been progressing nicely whilst I was away, has never left the starting blocks.
Murder w/o impunity does not exist and to be honest I wouldn't really want this idiot employee to die for his mistakes but if he costs me my new home and 20k I stand to lose then he needs to have very very good karma to survive.

I promised long time ago not to turn this blog into the various rants one encounters but this is a close call.

11 January - Posh & Burbs

A trip to Connecticut, to one of those picture perfect towns where wealthy Wall St Bankers commute from whilst their kids live the small town ie. safe life and their wives get super bored. Manhattan may be less than an hour away on the train but in reality you don't keep getting into town to meet your girlfriends or have your hair done if you also want to be at home when kids return from school and so on.
We go for a tour, it's all a bit like living in Hampsted and to be honest the house of the relative we're visiting is so utterly perfect with all those new england touches, that I have to feel like an under-achiever not yet out of student digs by comparison. Even their two cars are the potent tractor and the sleek german towncar.

And their basement den and utility room are larger than my flat in London, but much as I envy the space, I don't envy the life. I don't think mine is necessarily better (not any more that age has made me drop out of any scene, and now that being 42 and a half (ahem!!) and knowing who Lady GaGa is before she's topped the charts is not going to impress anyone and even if it did, it's of no use on a practical or working level. Am not working as a style/trend or makerting or brand scout so you know, it's of no use and maybe it would be better to have the great house and the great kids and the cute dog in the posh burbs and the holiday in the themed resort in Barbados(the kids love those ones) but I just can't find myself wanting it at all. I'd run away after 48 hours (we had to spend 36, so perfect timing) and it cannot be mentioned by the couple in question that when he lived on the 30th floor of portered modern block by Grand Central with panoramic views of the Hudson (or is that the East River, I can never remember the two) and walked to work... maybe those were better times? But you have to move for ... the schools if nothing else. Well,now that all these families have had zillions of cash instantly wiped off their shares in the downturn, it's even more important to be away from the costly city thought they still have to wonder how they'll pay for Yale/Harvard when the time comes. The shares bloodbath having cleared out also the grandparents and uncles and aunties so you know ... nowhere to turn. I'm not sure I believe you have to have gone to the main uni's with some cachet, I know they open plenty of doors but I think they're overrated.

There you go, I'd have been a terrible mother, forcing my kid to inhale traffic fumes and live w/o any green spaces and going to a not so great school. I'd have never left Manhattan. I may be wistful about the odd thing but not the exile from the City one, not going there. Not till I go to the deserted beach to live just in order to read, that will be a different story.

Another family who I didn't have time to visit but met, also live out north of manhattan but on the other side. Sure, Al Pacino and Baryshnikov have houses nearby and Bjork and Matthew Barney but those am sure, spend only a portion of their time in those burbs and the rest they travel for exciting work. In Bjork's case they have their own boat to come into the city with every day perhaps as his studio is somewhere suitably matthew barney-way. For those like my friend who see their husband leave the house at 5am every day and stay behind and for those like him who leave the house at 5am every day and have to return every evening (or the wife would be upset that he stays in town having fun whilst she isn't) it's er... great. But it's the way they say it that is so not for real. They have to say it, they have to re-inforce it. In this case my friend's sister still lives in fashionable Brooklyn by the bridge and has a terrific job with L'Oreal but can't get a decent date (she's not 40 yet) and so it seems people, myself included no doubt, just chose to highlight the best of the path they've taken or had to take.

mmmhhh... Boy was I glad to hear the train announcement say we were back in Penn station.....

8 January - NYC

The recession has its advantages. We are a walk in into The Union Street Cafe (not a cafe in my book folks but v. expensive restaurant) and get a table no problem despite friends' warnings that we wouldn't unless booked but ... it's first week of Jan and rich people are in the Bahamas perhaps or just lost all their money to Maddoff so we get in. Great food, great service, no complaints.

We're lucky about the break in the weather signifying blue skies and no freezing wind. Rejoice. But note to self, it's all very well wanting to travel light and only bring a few choice winter items and also not wanting to buy anything new cause I don't need it but the result is that all my NYC photos are in same outfit (well, the hat changes but I can't believe I only brought one scarf! What happened? Not like me at all).

The following evening we dine at the Stanton Social (the word we forgot to notice was 'social' but then again it was chosen by 30 something yoga bunny friend) and it's great food but the 6 of us can't hear each other across the table because of the music. It has to be said no other diners (young) seem fussed but Toph decides that if you can't moan in NY then where can you do it? And so harnagues the waitress about the noise. She explains they're barred from touching the sound system and that this is how it is. And still he goes on. He ends up sayinig he wouldn't come here again. Like? She cares? We still overtip so she's happy.

TBC : the brazilian... holly blah , susan blah
walking around the south east side. style and the city
x's gossip re guy ritchie's film, neal etc.
d. and Alfred Molina ....

6 January - Nail Varnish and Uggs

Terrific news from the beaches of the Mayan riviera... There are no Uggs on site (I thought there may be some idiots who insist on wearing them with their bikini) but no, even in downtown Playa which attempts to become Ibiza trendy, the gals are happily wearing whatever but.

A word of advice though, don't paint your tootsies and go to the beach an hour later, the varnish is still soft enough to be ruined by sand. I have no remover for now so it has to stay embedded on my varnish. Weird.

Pete Tong of all people is meant to play outdoor in the day at the Kool pool/restaurant /bar but he's cancelled due to personal committments. Mmmmh, was he ever coming? Toph is very happy to just stand and watch the action and to point out to me various hats, shoes, outfits. I think it's sweet that he doesn't credit me with knowing that he's actually looking at the tits and bums of the various shoe/hat/sarong owners... bless. Men. I yank him away after a couple of hours. That's enough. Thing is, that he can look all he wants but he's only got me for 'solace' and indeed all the flesh on display just makes him extra horny and I benefit. He has to stop saying 'You look the best ... for your age' though... saying nothing is probalby the best course of action.

tbc

5 February - Tulum & Punta Allan

Men always want to go explore but they don't always know why..... the fruitless trip down the road to PA.

and horny I. in his red underpants on the beach being uncharacteristically leery lad on beach or leery old man more likely.

tbc

3 January - J & Co

the crazy world of drinking, theaching philosphy of history of art and being an architect.
tbc

2 January - Alone or?

When travelling with people one should invent some rituals for oneself so as to carve out time and space for themselves... I'm loving being with my hosts, their siblings, my siblings, other friends from London but I sort of like to abandon the 4 novels I bring to read and would even like to get started on some of the ones Toph brought (we never manage to consolidate our books) and it's going to be difficult at this rate of... interruptions, managing rendez vous and generally spending time to compromise on times we all leave house or meet to meet or to have coffee or a drink etc.

My suggestion to myself but feel free to adopt it, is to declare that (a' la Gwyneth or Madonna or the likes) every day at 12 till 2pm you like to go for a long, SILENT, wak to meditate, or that you must nap ALONe away from all. Nobody can question your ritual because it's part of you as much as not eating meat for example. This way you'd have your sanctuary and if nobody spies on you then they won't find out that you've actually gone wandering the shops in downtown Playa or are under a palm tree elsewhere, reading your book. If they find you out, then come clean and say that unfortunately nobody's rhythms and timetable match and trying to keep up with others requires too much self-censure (for when you're about to explode and say 'I like my beach at 8 till 11 and then 2 till 6. Whaddayamean we're arriving for the third day running at 10.45 when the sun is buning and you have to have the brain of a raisin to want to lay your towel down now?'

Talking of raisins, yes, I'd say they exist, and most men are in this category. I never tire of showing friends my hands/face which seem to tan even with repeated application of factor 50, as proof that the sun will get you no matter what. The poor souls think that using factor 25 or 30 is already a great improvement on the old days of factor 4 or ... nothing but if I had a quid for every time a man slathers on cream upon arrival on beach (wrong, had to be done earlier) and then immediately goes for a swim... I'd be rich. They say things like 'but it says here it's waterproof' and I say 'believe that and believe anything'.

So you can see that going for my 2 hour ALONE time would probably be very welcome by my holiday associates too who'd get a break from my sun nannying interference. When it comes to the sun's bad action on their skin, I cannot obviously say that it's not enough for me to avoid lines on my face or general skin ageing if my nearest and dearest then let the side down by looking old when stood next to me. Yes, my body fascism now has a new facet ie. I don't want my friends to make me look old if they look old, if you see what I mean.

It's bad enough that we collectively act old already as in 'Let's get away from the section of beach with the dj's and blaring music'. Mmmhh... Well, not the entire day there surely, but I can take a few hours? I can read whilst listening to blaring music much easier than when I get interrupted with 'Hey did you know that there are more grains of sand in a glass of water than there are in all the beaches in all the world?' I say 'Even if I cared to ask you where you read it, how did they work it out and why do you believe it and why does anybody care for this piece of information, I'd rather get to the end of thsi chapter of this excellent book by Colm Toibin based on the life of Henry James. Would you like me to tell you the plot and which novels of HJ the various biographical details refer to? Oh, thought not! Leave me alone!'.

1 January - It gets less and less interesting

So there I was bemoaning the fact that my NYE in Mexico saw me in bed by 1.30am and totally sober - more on that later - when a quick round up of calls to/from friends revealed that all had had similar non eventful evenings: top gay friend in NY to visit well connected ex - nada, they stayed home with friends; various friends in Majorca... they were in/home and watched some fireworks from the hillside; friends in Havana, they drank as much as usual and have nothing to report. I could go on. Suffice to say that what all have in common is that they are over 40 and in most cases paired off or recently divorced or whatever but I imagine the facebook pages of 20 somethings would paint a totally different picture of bright eyed people out all nigth copping off and so on.

Actually, I lie. One 50something close friend was kidnapped in San Cristobal (also in Mexico) with his nearly 40 gorgeous friend San Fran C. (the one who spent his entire 2 weeks in the Yucatan wearing what Paul Simonon wore on stage, though think Simonon maybe didn't have cowboy boots, but definitely the mirrored raybans, this was his outfit on the beach as well) by two Mexican girls from Mexico City who fed them tequila and Colombian imports. Suffice to say that 'young' San Fran C. was sick and still is sick, whereas old codger I. was sufficiently recovered to send multiple texts detailing his night and the fact he got lost trying to get back to his hotel and so on.

Am not complaining but I think 1 white wine and 1 Margherita for 1 NYE is very poor and that was my intake. I wish I were one of the mad mexican girls from Mexico City, especially the one who spent the night with gorgeous San Fran C. though I doubt he performed at all, whereas sober Toph certainly had the energy.