1 feb - Whirlwinds & Tumbleweeds

A whirlwind tour of freezing London with two overseas friends takes us to Shoreditch on a sat night. It is freezing but the young don't feel it and I can't see a soul over 25 in the long circular walk we take after dinner (with under 25s at the Turkish on Bethnal Green Rd.

Sunday we're back that way at Columbia rd market with the florist friend full of good advice on what to plant, what will survive, buys me crocuses and irises and stuff (I have to look at the pictures hardly knowing any flower or plant name). Florist later gamely trying sushi for the third time ever but still can't manage it, smell turns her off even that of miso soup. Me and C. pity her as we could live at the japanese practically.

I haven't seen C. for six years though we talk and nearly met a couple of times in the last two or three. She was always blessed with the most outerwordly complexion, think whiter than Dita von Teese in full make up and just buttery soft. There are still too few lines for her age group but the surprise is the chicken gullet neck. Nothing much can be done for that one. C. is moaning about the mothers of kids her daughter's age (15) who only want to do the same thing on the few nights they go out as a gang. She works for major artists in Italy, the kind who sell out 12,000 seats four nights in a row.. sort of bigger than Beyonce' but hard to fathom. Every country has indigenous big stars who don't travel (Johnny Halliday anyone?). C. has never watched an entire set. She said she had decided to to watch 6 songs per evening and work her way through long sets but only managed the 6 and that's that. Can't blame her. We met a long time ago when she was in love with Jon Moss, and she still thinks about him. See, we all get stuck to our teenage years and the followers of her major Italian rock/pop legends, got to knoe those first, are still the fans that crowd the stadiums now. I can't knock them.

27 January - Debts & Rebates

I read many articles on how to be happy, what's the most value in life etc, just because papers and magazines are always awash with them. Don't worry, I also read about the damage done by Vedanta bauxite plant in the state of Orissa/India and about cancer research.
They all seem to always suggest that it's good family ties which makes the happiest and that money doesn't buy happiness and that it may all depend on our personal chemical make up and how we cope with it all. I'm inclined to think this is only partly true as for most things that are stated. I may be super odd but I don't care for family one bit. Sure I care for my lover at the time but I don't much care for his family or mine. I care out of duty, conditioning. If they didn't exist I'd be fine (though clearly don't wish their non existance to happen as a sudden wipe out of all of them but more in the 'If they had never existed' sort of way. Since one has to bear them in mind all the time before doing this or that, like running away to join the circus.

As for the money, again, maybe it doesn't make you happier. They say that there's a huge difference between having nothing/not enough and say, 25k a year, but there isn't much above that or 25k to 40k. Things may be very different if you have 1m a year to spend (rather than just be allocated to expenditure needed to fund a proportionally higher version of the lifestyle that you have on 40k).

So tell me why the only news that lately have made me punch the air, put phone down and do a little jig have been news of cash bonanzas. The first one was before xmas, when I friend from whom I had borrowed 5k last year said she didn't want it back (I was informing her I should be able to pay her back by April this year) and morevoer she didn't care what I then would do with it. I was speechless. The fact that she's comparatively massively richer than I am is not the point. This was just a lovely gesture. Of course I will donate some of it to charity. Tithing is a concept I have always liked. I didn't punch the air at that news because it didn't seem right to rejoice (my friend had lost her father a month earlier and she's still very upset).

The other news is altogether different. As part of a transaction I made last January, 4k was being held in escrow at my solicitors. My tenacity in trying to get this amount released back to me as opposed to being paid on to someone who has never remembered to claim it, has paid off. Solicitor said he saw no reason not to pay it back to me and, check this out all ye who hate the legal professionals, he claims not to want any fee from me - I had always said we could do it american style, split what he managed not to pay on. I will donate his estimated fee to charity as above. But I did explode in pure glee. Granted, I then checked myself as cash not in my account yet but let's be hopeful.

So there you go. No love action, no gifts, no sunny beaches in Thailand have elicited this kind of JOY. Only money has done it. Money that's earmarked to pay off other things (apart from buying super excellent dinner at the Ledbury for Toph asap since he dreams of the pheasant dish there) but essentially a bonus. Am beginning to understand those bankers who want to or have moved to Switzerland to safeguard their cash against tax man. If, as they say, they work in banking because it's the pursuit of money that gets them out of bed in the morning and beyond, then money has this effect on them every day. In other words they must be high all the time.

22 January - Haiti & Tits

Yes I know, a strange pairing for a post title. Remember my dashing surgeon, Dr S? The one who flies to all the disasters in the world to fix them? Just got an out of the blue text from him. Of course you have to have a certain personality to be able to work surrounded by death and you have no time to be sentimental. We've all seen the TV programmes about E&R, Nurse Jackie etc and they're always funny ha ha the doctors, right?

“Just met an Italian aid worker in Haiti who looks like you – lovely tits too”.

I replied asking how many limbs has he had to amputate so far. You know, just to dash his little fantasies about tits... he's in a disaster zone for godssakes. Men...

19 January - Australia & Broken bones

Wonder how my friend D. is doing on her month's holiday in Oz with two kids and useless husband. She had to cancel her summer one in Sardinia as the youngest, 7 year old, broke his leg the day before they were due to leave. On this one, I got a message that the same boy broke his hand the day after they landed. Such fun. Not.

18 January - Going Out recap

I keep forgetting to record what I've seen and what I thought, which I should record since this blog is after all an online diary and will remain the only thing I can use to remind myself of stuff i did since gone are the days of keeping all the filofax pages and everything else is just recorded on some work Outlook diary which I believe gets wiped out after a while. At some point I was printing just the monthly page but then thought really, why? I'm hardly going to be Andy Wharhol and publish the diary am I? Anyway, I did find the time to go see the following and just to remember what I thought of them all:

Up in The Air - boy will that wheelie suitcase sell in vast numbers, we all saw the logo a few times, if good enough for George C. and lover, good enough for us. Great that George doesn't get the girl in this movie but then he doesn't want the girl does it... get my drift... am sure there's a loverboy in lake Como.
Nine - didn't recognise Fergie from Black Eyed Peas despite wondering several times 'Who's this new actress?' so job well done. Nicole Kidman... you'd never ever get an Italian man, director or otherwise, to fancy a shape like hers. Even with the pointy bra inbuilt in costumes, Italians wold never fall for it. They may like algids but they have to be fat algids like the Monroe lookalike in La Dolce Vita. Was Kate Hudson pregnant in some scenes and slimmed down in the dancing ones? Marion Cotillard, I love you. You're a great actress. Penelope, same part all the time. Sofia, wow, face don't move but presence in spades. Dame Judi, can you be my auntie please. Songs, again surprised this was a successful Broadway show as they seem forgettable. Daniel, always a pleasure to watch you. Went with two friends, one who had seen 8 1/2 and one who hadn't. Not sure who enjoyed most/least. Wouldn't waste more than £8 on a ticket (£7.50 at Vue)
Le Misanthrope - Toph was laughing his head off and loved the new script. Not bad. Great actors, even Keira, whose accent was pretty good. Didn't seem that poignant or relevant satire. Take it for granted that nobody has any morals when it comes to work (getting it, keeping it, not being past it/alone etc).
Mesrine - what was the fuss all about this one??? I mean, he's great in it. He never is less than great. Follows Enemy No. 1 territory. But nowadays Life on Mars did show it's not difficult to recreate 30 years ago. Was good reminder of that time in the 70's when common crims in central /south europe pretended there were politics behind their activity (Red Brigades and so on), but they didn't know the first thing about ideology.
Twilight (yes 3 years too late). Awww... was much slower paced than I expected. Enjoyed the slow build. I can't remember my 13/14/15/16/17 but remember it was all intensely felt and utterly full of meaning in every single little aspect of situations presenting themselves. Suprised managed to move through it instead of being paralysed by fear of doing anything wrong vis a vis boys. Thai pirate copy got stuck near the end (fight in mirrored ballet school) so still no idea what happens in the end (despite lying to various sets of teenage daughters of friends and pretending have read the book, as if).
Avatar - said no, why suffer. Two friends said it's an hour too long and too infantile and I'll buy it. Camille O'Sullivan - wow.. there I was resenting D. buying tix at £40 a go to go see someone I don't know. But she was mesmerising. God knows how long she's been doing this set for (saw something on youtube afterwards where it seems she was any Irish singer beforehand, co-singing with the Pogues or something) but this incarnation is to die for. Anyone who does Bowie's Rock n' roll Suicide and Five Years is my friend. Toph loved the Nick Cave songs, I love the NIN one and D. is still crying at 'Look, mummy, no hands'. I mean sobbing.
The Ledbury - lunch on a Friday. Great.
Polpo - a few times, always good. Will be default central London location.
Pizza East - nice waiters/waitresses. Good vibe. Various things good, but the pizza really not my style, odd texture. Much better food/pizza at that new one by Notting Hill tube station. Can't remember name.
There's got to be more but I can't remember... tbc

14th - Raffles & Old dj's

Nobody wants to go out. And further more, nobody is having as much or as varied sex as they used to have. Is it just January?

Here was an easy one. Chris Sullivan and Rusty Egan at Raffles doing probably some 80's Wag/Camden Palace set. Sounds good to me but can I find a mate who wants to go with? Can I fuck. It's Kings Rd not rotten east end but nobody or maybe someone would go but I'd have to be stuck to third tier friends I have no desire to hang with for an evening. Am going in that direction anyway to meet soon to be married friend and show her bridesmaid dress. She likes. I like her shoes, her underwear, her engagement ring, her jewellery, her furs, her house, her husband. Lucky girl. We talk about sex as you do and she says sort of less compelling now they live together.

On top and with headboard to hang on to is fine says G. who since she's been working with a personal trainer now has a flat tummy and so doesn't mind on top position. I say I have flat tummy, but tits beginning to go, she says 'Oh, spaniel's ears'. Christ not yet but god spare me. What a horrible expression. She does show me some of the exercises she religiously does for hers to stay up. The classic ones, you know, arms bent at elbow and open and shut. Must fit some in pronto.

Bat back to the fabulous furs which her father bought a few years back and had been owned by a Japanese woman. But why did her father acquire them? Did japanese woman fall on hard times? one is very distinctive, sleeves totally contrasting from body, both in colour and pelt and length of fur so I could research on pics of old g/friends of Rod Stewart, am sure I'd find this woman. But I don't have time. G. is going to alter the furs and make into short jackets and use the rest as bed throws. Oh sacrilege. The ice grey mink is so long and wide that two of me fit inside. I love it.

We then look at the book of inspiration for bridal clothing that she was given. All these pics of old weddings. G likes a lot of 60's /70's stuff, wonder why. The absolute worst one ever has to be Priscilla Presley's. Looks like a boring nightgown. Wonder what happened there.

I come out of her house and head home... I deliberately came out in boring clothes so that I wouldn't be tempted to go to Raffles on my own. Sigh.

14 January - Love conquers all?

Am catching up with my friend S. who's in town from Vienna. I ask after her last boyf (we're talking 2 or 3 years back but he made a big impression on me, super handsome man. She says don't I know? He met this woman a few weeks (or months) after her husband and two children had been killed in a car accident at a train level crossing. This woman has been a guest of talkshows to talk about her shocking loss (I think she's written a book, stating she sees the kids/they talk to her?). And S's old boyf has been on talkshows with her. We wonder how can such a relationship work/last but who knows. I have searched youtube to find them on a show but can only find him. Darn. Foiled by the net. Anyway, all this to link to my 'wouldn't it be nice to have some real drama in my life?' NOT.

En passant S. tells me that when she was with him, it was the first time he ever had really gone down on a woman since his previous wife hated it. The world is always throwing up surprises.

13 January - Harrods & Sheets

I suggest to W. going to Harrods to check shoes as one of my friends bought some Loubutins cheap as last days blah blah. No luck with shoes but W. needs sheets for her spare room, tired of white, wants to jazz up. Pale grey. Calvin Klein home range has some nice stuff. Though we get confused by sizes of doubles, kings, super kings and so on. And of course sale stuff as some stuff mixed in that's non sale. Half an hour later and she's happy with a set. The till says £300 We look at each other. One on sale duvet cover, one fitted sheet, two pillowcases. Ah there's the clue, one pillowcase is £21 down from £40 something. I look at it and it's a plain pale grey pillowcase. You know, nothing special about it.

This shop is mad. Whilst she was debating I had noticed some brands were much more expensive than CK, I mean who does Ralph Lauren think he is? I tell W. to leave the stuff and march her out. She agrees, but says she'll ask her decorator who gets trade discounts to get something. Trade discounts my arse. That woman will always manage to fleece her somehow.

However, as I was also tempted by linen, a classic weakners, I resolve though to go round with a mantra written on a piece of paper. These items I will never buy new ones of till current ones fall apart, it's time to stop this housewife sort of madness:

towels
bed linen
hats
scarves (wool or silk or pashminas or other)
gloves
belts
cellulite creams

9 January - Ennui

Am a philosopher. Check this out, came to me today ha ha ha. So the thing is that if you have a thing that doesn't work you think if you fix it everything will be fine and converely all is shit till you sort that out. But what if in reply to a friend who asks how's things in your world, you say: job safe, money in the bank, house ok, boyf loving and supportive, family near and far all healthy bar one aunt with cancer but c'est la vie, shit happens at 75plus, and .. is that all there is?

So the fact that you're not 'happy happy' means what? that we always need some drama or adventure as a distraction? where to go, what to do, what to fuck up? Is our natural default mode if we have food on the table, roof over head and love one of, you know... ennui?


I feel no immediate compulsion to go fuck anything up in my life, am sure soon enough it will happen without my initiating it, so I probably have to live off other people' dramas. Like hearing that in the home of my friend who shares it harmoniously with ex husband and his shipped over thai g/friend who now expects a baby, the following happened. Other girlfriend, the one who didn't know till last year that Thai one existed of was indeed such a close threat, goes into the house to put the stage costumes in the washing machine (me, I'd leave it to him to do this task). Sorry you don't know that they are in the same 'act' still. I mean, it's not like one would be walking away from millions with Eurythmics so why she stays in the act after all this humiliatin i don't know but people are very co-dependant. So, she rings ahead to say she'll be doing this and can thai girl pls stick to own quarters so as not to meet. However for some reason thai girl shows up in the kitchen, the other one goes into fury and attacks, thai girl goes pick up a knife and He, Mr Big in this, luckily is on hand to step in and separate. A drama I don't have.

Or I can read those terrible stories in the Saturday Guardian personal story section story like my husband left me for my daughter (his stepdaughter actually, but known her since was 12) and next time I meet them is when my other daughter gives birth and in walk ex husband and my stepdaugher because she's also about to have a baby. A drama I don't have.

Or I can read the one about Vanessa Bell's daughter (niece of Vrginia Wolfe) who married the much older guy who had been her fathers' lover and had also been rejecte by her mother. And nobody had actually bothered to spell it out to her. Blimey! A drama I don't have.

But rather than dwell on dramas, I could arrange to spice up my life in a healthy way. I should go heli-sking in Manali like some rich man I know is about to. Just looked it up on website. sounds /is amazing. What could possibly go wrong there. Apart from avalanches for which he is totally and fully equipped, he probably has one of those impact bags that I saw in a James Bond movie and turns into a balloon and you stay inside with air to breathe and roll on till you stop/they find you. James was in his with a lady of course.

I hope you appreaciate that on top of being a philosopher I also have such an imagination as to never really be alone whilst my mind roams around like this. I know, I know, you are spotting that I'm lacking a mission in life.

6th January - Activists & Djs

S. is in town from NYC with young son and mother of O. portentuosly named child (but not his partner, was a one off, have written about them before). He only has time for us at 10pm one evening so we go visit at his parents. Enquire after mother who has had cancer and recovered and discover that the week she got the all clear she was run over in Sloane St by a van and ended up broken and in intensive care for weeks thereafter. Truly... unlucky.

Trust S. to go out with noteworthy people. We enquire after the Cuban ballerina who was his g/riend last time we were in this parlour. No, that's gone. He didn't actually fancy her. Now he's wiuth the daughter of well known american lawyer cum activist from the 60's and 70s who worked a lot with black panthers etc. He's dead now but daughters have made a docu about him and S met one of them at some Sundance style festival. How sweet. He's got one himself on a friend of George Bush so they can talk politics in bed no doubt. As ever we wonder how he's managed to pay for this docu who's used several years of his life but we remember the trust fund. Oh and he tells hilarious stories of working on some episode of American Wifeswap to pay a few bills.

As we leave he tells us his old Holland park flat is rented out to a radio one dj, SM who has already caused a number of complaints for noise.

4 January - Party& Smokers

A small house party to wave goodbye to the Angolan queen Donna D who is returning to work in her compound in the middle of nowhere central Angola. She tells us that there are no birds or animals in that part of the world, as if the ones in Namibia wouldn't dare ever crossing into Angola since, during the civil war, everything got eaten and now the birds/animals know to stay away forever. Nobody told the mosquitoes but that's not an animal but the remnants of some old plague still wit us.

It's a nice big house rented for now by a couple who have sold/rented out their respective flats in Hampsted and have money left over for this one in Kensal Rise since they've combined their kids from previous marriages. They seem delighted to discover that civilized life is not over in that corner and places like Minki's Deli at the bottom of their road and the obligatory children clothing shops are reassuringly saying "We're still central, we're not in the suburbs, those are half a mile up in Willlesden". I hate to break it to them that the rise is not the new Chelsea. A. is funny and loud. The husband is also loud but not so funny. He's an ex hedge fund now training to be therapist, as you do. I think he must be a long way from being a good one though since he talks and talks AT you (well Toph) and polishes bottles of wine pretty fast and is the kind of person who says things like 'All media people are idiots' (I paraphrase) without first establishing who he's talking to ie. a media person. I find that sort of declarative style of conversation very annoying. He's talking to Angolan queen and to Toph who has worked in Africa (though one should keep it specific as it's not an interchangeable /homogeneous kinda place) and says, I kid you not "The thing about Africa is..." Frankly I thought those kind of openings were banned. I don't care if he's also lived/worked there, it's just prepostrous to posit that you know it all. He's the brother of an incredibly sexy/dishy Scottish actor. I wish he were here now so I could just look at him instead of listening to boring bro. I'm not listening in fact, am on the other side of the room which means I also don't get to talk to a nice lady who work in events/does things like Harry Potter parties. She looks very dashing in a mid 90's kind of style but her face is soft for someone who's probably a ballbreaker in her job.

I don't last long on the other side of the room either as am next to two women who chainsmoke up the chimney hole. It's a good chimney hole but still. However I can't protest as one is the lady of the house so... These people clearly eschew new year resolutions and just smoke away. Not a 'do you mind if' crosses their lips. They're so busy drinking and smoking that the much heralded snacks don't appear till am almost about to raid their fridge. Oh I don't know.... We leave with much 'Should meet up again' but ... I know we won't.

3 January - Detox & Sausage sandwiches

L. has sent detox package offer on 2nd Jan to all and sundry on FB and boyf reveals she was doing so from comfort of bed and sausage sandwich in mouth. We're in the car going to a seaside town and L. is now sending the detox package offer to all her phone book. No sausage sandwiches but we can't wait for fish and chips. She says she wants to eat everything, as indeed she's done over xmas because tomorrow she'll start a month's long detox and lose it all. I personally think that it seems so hard to stick to porridge for a whole month (or some such) and I prefer not doing the intake of bad stuff in the first place.

We're going to visit H. who has a house on the beach and is so utterly fab. She has a bit of lolly you know but she's just such a natural bohemian and has been in the house since after Xmas with our othe super bohemian friend T. who has no money. At some point he goes to the ATM and the machine doesn't spit out his £10. I don't think I know anyone who goes to get a tenner at a time out of the hole in the wall. I buy lunch.
H. is friends with the wife of shane mcgowan and she knows he gets 1m each ear for fairytale of NY. God, and that's just his half. It's in some recent newspaper article that he wakes up at 1pm drinks a bottle or two of wine for breakfast and loses entires days to the drink. He has however fixed his teeth. There's no sex. But why does she stay with him? It all gets revealed when we learn that she gets 30k in cash when she goes off on a trip. Ok so maybe not 30k but you get the drift. Who wouldn't go on yoga holidays and do a small amount of companionship in between? Am sure he's entertaining when awake.

I ask T. about his friend M. how is he and so on and he says that M. bought a £20 bag of heroin for NYE and stayed in. I ask if he's having me on and he says no, god's honest truth. I find myself saying that if the heroin was good/clean etc, that sounds like a great way of spending NYE. Must ask him round next year. At least trust he'd know what to do. Am sure we're talking smoking it which never sounds so bad to me.

Anyway, that was yesterday. This morning went for a walk with a friend who said (like I think she sayd for the past ten years at least on this part of the year) that she wants to give up smoking/drinking and the rest. She's going to do dr Joshi's detox but w/o the expensive herbs (think she had bought them previously and then only half used). I give my support. Whoever said am not a good friend, one that never points out 'have heard it all before'. Coincidentally read an article where a man was describing his losing weight and said that when men decide to, they just do it, stick to it etc. Women insted, multi-task as they do for everthing and so dip in and out of various diets at same time which of course includes eating a burger here and a packet of crisps there and a bar of chocolate there whilst doing the diet. Their detox is the same. What's a glass of wine to reward yourself after day 2 of detox? But still, I listen. Smugly yes, of course. I never detox because I don't tox in the first place. That seems the easiest way to me.

2 January - Recycle & Remodel

As you tidy up and everyone gets into it at the start of a new year, you find things falling out of cupboards like unwrapped gifts (I mean the gift wrappig is off but the actual item is still in cellophane) that were bought for you by lovely boyf when he returned from this or that trip and ... well, shocking to have a YSL highlighter cum mascara combo or the trio of Clarins products etc which he gave me 2 /3 years ago and haven't got round to using as still have other stuff on the go.

So, here you go, my new idea to stem the tide of constant purchasing of things we don't have enough need for as still using previous stuff/clothes etc.

How about re-wrapping and re-giving on another occasion, next valentine, next b'day, next xmas. You could do this at infinitum since when asked for example by relative what I wanted it took some time to work out I needed some Fitflops (I don't really, but had to come up with something).Now I have them and god knows when will use. I should have just given her one of my old hats/scarves/gloves/dresses and said just wrap this one up and give it to me. Have no worn in ages, will seem new and I'll be happy. And so on....But people just think you're mean when you say these things...

1 January - Charades & Tubes

Was persuaded to cross town to have NYE dinner at friends in Shoreditch. This gave us rare opportunity to observe the young ones on the u/ground on such a peculiar night as we're hardly ever here this time of the year). What a pretty downmarket bunch, all of them, where were the peacocks of my youth? Honestly in my carriage I was the oldest for sure but not the ugliest by a mile. What is the point of being 20 to 30 and looking so bad?

Got to my friend and it was lovely though having a 12 year old in our midst we had to keep it clean. This means that by 12.30 I was falling asleep. No dancing, no TV so charades it was. I figured out that one way not to act one out is not to guess one so you never have to go up. You use the time to furiously work out at least one title, and then that eliminates the suspicion you're not into this game. I'm not a natural at these... I did Pirates of the Caribbean and I could have just pretended to look through a long spyglass but instead attempted some fencing, so it took them all a long while. For caribbean I started with driving a car. I hadn't fully worked out how to do the bean. Sigh.

We received a visit from Johnny something who dresses in exclusively 1940's clothes and lives between the 30's and 50's according to his 13 year old daughter who was left with us whilst dad went off to do a dj set nearby. When we left at 3pm they watched Cloverfield on a large film screen. The tube back was equally devoid of anyone of interest. Again I was the oldest person on the train bar one.

Still, bliss to sleep till 1am next day and not go anywhere.