31 March - Blogs & Boring

Forgot to say that on the Swiss excursion I brought with me a 50p charity shop copy of Petite Anglaise. For a while back in the heyday of blogs I wished I were writing a wildly checked one, leading to collation into book form and giving a few interviews and pocketing some cash. But having now read a few books originating this way I am relieved I never had anything remarkable enough to pulp a few trees for. Ok, Belle 1 is the exception.

I skipped back and forth on PA and could not find a single redeeming thing about it. Of course did not read all the words as that would have been a waste of my precious reading time. But it was dire. Maybe in small installment form it had a different bearing on a reader, but in one sitting or two, it was dire. Comment on dit 'dire' en francais je me demande...

Then again maybe am just in impatient/uncharitable moon phase or other. Since I bougth a £5 hardcopy of Margaret Attwood's 'After the Flood', read 30 pages and thought Maggie, you're back on Oryx and Craske territory and indeed she makes no bones about it but it feels a bit like a rehash. With her however I have learnt she has good surprises up her sleeves, so will persevere another 100 or so before giving up if indeed that's what I'll do. Which reminds me, Franzen's Freedom is not even half way through and I like it a lot. It's just impossible to find the time what with bits of TV, lots of going out and the general attention span decline that's befallen me.

30 March - Europa & Women

(unedited) It starts with crossing the road in front of Westminster and there's our maire on his bicycle, cunningly wearing a black beanie from which only a few white locks were escaping but unmistakably sort of misshapen and various other people turned at the same time. Dear boris you don't know how many letters never sent I have composed to you when am mad about the buses, the tube, the trains and the traffic! exh in smith square. gorgeous, never been here before. in support of european baccalaureat small gathering so too many canapes and too much wine great (or great at the time conversations) that remind you of a bunch of things that only central europeans care about and not the inhabitants of an island that has refused the Euro. picked up lots of literature, speeches etc on european union roll on Lebanon when I'll go visit CK whos moved there because lebanese husband had had enough of low level racism he faced in Austria. told P. the sculptor/writer that my male friends can't stand Tracey Emin and I on the contrary feel for her and her struggles and totally get her. And I like Margate. But have never met her and certainly not prior to her sobering up a bit, she must have been 11 on a scale of obnoxious. art, I like collages , I like found stuff put together but not video. too much wine. tbc

25 March - Office bitching & W & Ivy

Office bitching wasa alive and well yesterday and today. Yesterday someone had enough and marched over to the desk of someone higher in the pecking order to say 'I won't be talked to/at like this'. Then off for tears (yes it was a lady). Today I was asked by the higher pecking order how he could change lower pecking order person and have myself tend to his sphere of work. I said it's not done at your level (sorry to burst bubbles of importance) plus how popular would that make me? then I proceded to suggest to each that the other really wanted to apologise and therefore the olive branch was forthcoming. If you flatter someone that they other thinks they made a huge mistake in offending blah blah , it gets sorted. Calm restored. I was about to write to the foreign office and offer some mediation with Gaddafi/Qaddafi/Gheddafi (I mean who's reaching out to him now heh? Who's forgetting which park they gave him to pitch his tent of the 40 female bodyguards heh?) but then I had a meltdown of my own and called HR to ask how best act in order to get a logorrhoic (spelling?) colleague to stop talking on the phone to her family various time a day , every day and then insist on telling me the contents of the conversation I've just heard! About washing machine repairs or health issues or orange phone bills addressed to the wrong recipient or haircuts of only an inch taken off all around etc. It should be simple, you get up and declare 'you bore me to tears you fool, shut the fuck or go use a phone in another level/building /town, oh go home and visit in fact'. But you can't do that. I should suggest she starts a blog and gets her mother/father/washing machine man to read it. 'And I said... and he said... then I said.. and he said...' Or I could ask to be sat opposite Bill Gates, he must have some good stories to tell his ma? So enough of all that, will go check the W bar tomorrow and then the club at the Ivy, just because you can't let all the new or relatively new places pass you by.

24 March - Peruvian art & top photographers

We go to the gallery owned by alexander dellal, space courtesy of property king father in a corner of Hoxton sq. En route I look at estate agent porn as usual. Quite fancy a large flat on the top floor of a building next to the White Cube Gallery. Nice views of the square though as squares go it's not that lush. 700k for under 100sqm. Not quite Kensington but getting there.
Remember the days when this corner of london was dark due to nobody living here, no shops apart from crummy corner shops and the only bars were the bricklayers and barley mow. Someone I knew was busy buying rotting buildigns. Oh how he must be laughing now, though at some point in the early 90's he nearly went under due to shifts in rates and the fact he wasn't able to rent /use any of this.. yet. Wonder where he's now.

So, the gallery has a show by Peruvian artists and for some reason Mario Testino brought them to you. We were to stalk him but as I said to Toph, MT would probably arrive only with ten mins to closing time to shake a few hands and then the inner circle would go to dinner. We arrived mistakenly too early and after a beer and some art that's not inspiring all you can do is go for another beer at some other opening and so to 30a redchurch st , possibly the smallest 'gallery' ever though it has a long name I forget. Only one item on show which I won't mention as was pretty dismal and curated by the daughter of Mick Jones from the Clash who you'd think should know better as she must be 30 something. The public was outside having a fag as the music for the piece was (deliberately) deafening. If had had the energy would have retired to Conran's terrace, must be open by now, but a swift viet was calling and then off home.

Am sure at some point when I was circa 24 all this would have been riveting and scored by dozens of hellos to/from people I knew. Alas..

21 March - Norwegian & Wood

Subtitle should have been 'It would have been good to talk!'

Honest.. long time since have avoided Bergman movies and here was one. I guess I would recommend it only to young people who would find the nexus of it close to their lives perhaps though maybe not in these permissive days. But it tired me out. Good acting, good camera work. Don't go see if you're taking antidepressants, may set you back.

Later on I found myself listening for an hour to friend L. who goes round in circles a lot over the same same issues all the time. I managed. She thought I was very good for once, less impatient and a good listener. I was merely thinking wouldn't want to be in her head. And that if I gave her a full hour, it would count towards not offering to listen for the entire the next week, bar a few emails. Calculating, moi? But if you think about it, you sort of find yourself remembering decades of endless discussions whilst with friends trying to sort out our lives but you want to say 'Christ, surely you have to have a grip by now on your issues?' (unless someone died, you lost your job, your home, you live near a nuclear reactor...).

Is there a more attractive word than 'grumpy' I could use?

20 March - Freerunning & Parcour

After tea in gt ormond st with the gay friends who are now residents of one of the best little areas of london (pedestrianised, quiet etc) and who'll get super fit on account of being on a 4th or 5th floor (couldn't afford the lower ones at twice the amount), we wandered off to see some young'uns and hear not a note that wasn't hip hop/rap.

24 competitors... to be whittled down to 12 in the RedBull competition for freerunning by the NT. Clearly toph wasn't that keen on this outing, but was swept along by the refrain 'I want to see/do someething different, we always do the same shit'. Loved it, though was disappointed no skull cracked open and spewed blood everywhere as they went about jumping off walls and landing on concrete.

Earlier in the day we had followed the east eruopean hippy babes to a small park behind Trellik tower and that was a novelty since must have gone past it zillion of times but never noticed (see above for 'we always do the same shit ie. stop when we get to the Oporto).

The EEBabes were met by chance at Coffee Plant when one of them spotted that Sergei was russian as herself. But Sergei is not that forthcoming with words so dontcha now, Toph kept up the chatter. I think this was second or third time they met in CPlant and again Anna was trying to invite Sergei to some tango dancing display and to Passing Clouds but he was being his usual reticent self. Toph just couldn't fathom why but Sergei told him he doesn't fancy Anna and clearly he's not the type who'll just shag anyone just because they're there and available. Plust this makes Anna chase all the more as Sergei to date is an enigma to her, though he's been to Cuba and the girls are going to Cuba so information was offered.

We left them to it. I don't have much interest in how it pans out but Toph is sublimating the fact he's not able to spend time with young EEBabes any more. The other one Dorotha, is the one he'd like the most and I like the least on account that it wasn't that hot but since there was a ray of sunshine at 2pm of course she had to go and wear the kind of ickle dress with straps that fall and you have no bra on which I should wait for a Glastonbury day before I give it an outing.

Toph says 'But she has a boyfriend!' as some kind of iron maiden lock she may also wear. Oh how some days he forgets I'm older and wiser than him...

18 March - Apres Neige

It always seems silly as you wake up at 4.30am to trek to an airport to get on a flight to get on a train to get to ski for 3 days max and then spend another half day in reverse, but fortunately your brain overrules the knee jerk reaction of why bother and reminds you that when you're there you're on TOP OF MOUNTAINS and you go dowwwwnnnnnnnnnnnnnn, yipppieeeeeee. All fab. Including making the following classic mistake on morning of second day (tk got you'd already got your ski legs on day 1) 'Hey, look if we get off where A. gets off (A. who's been training for 5 years with Olympic ski instructor and very recently has become his equal, sort of) in order to go off piste, see here, there is a short blue run that connects and then we can come down'. I was well aware that I do all sorts of dyslexic shit these days with words and places but to do it with colours is a first. I saw blue but it was red. Red next to black. Paralysing red, since it's always the first bit of the descent that makes the piste a red, or the narrowness. I stayed upbeat, there was hardly anyone on the pistes and the snow was fresh, you can just come down sort of side ways and slowly non? So off I go and in mere minutes am below the hard bit. But Toph is still up there adjusting his sunnies (can't see with/can't see without he shouts as visibility is suddenly disappearing in a sea of white). Houston we have a problem I thought but was well aware that you don't just take your skis off and trudge up to hold hands with boyf in funny moment mode. He's not a girl and you have to respect male pride. Since the only way is down, he did come down and after that, there were no obstacles. This is sort of my philosphy with most things. Do the hard bit first and the remaining will seem easier. Start with the easy and the hard seems looming larger. For this reason I'll always put my hand up first/fast. Watching all the others take their turn before you is excruciating. But we're all different. Coming home and tearing up your insurance documents is always a favourite moment. Before that we woke up to stunnign 180 degrees of the best view ever (wasn't that sunny but am prepared to forget that) in a wonderful house. Company and food and wine was excellent. Am sure that coming here with a large group of friends instead of 6 would be even better and am currently sitting here wondering why I left it to mid March to go skiing, with no time to sort out another w/end before all the snow melts. We had in fact to chase some in nearby Italy as the Swiss slopes were in dire need. It was good to catch up on the news of A's work, L's about to be launched web magazine for non straight-forward people (I like her idea of a tab for those who will find it objectionable, you click here and voila' it takes you to the Daily Mail. It was also great to chat to the son who was formerly the daughter and is now a man in the process. And his g/friend is super smart and likeable, I would say the first Greek I've ever met. Is that possible? How have I managed a London life all these years and never met a Greek? She had yoga and acrobatics in common with Toph, well, acrobatics he wishes.... We were just wondering if you were a couple of lesbians and then one of you becomes a man, are you then in a hetero relationship then? Questions questiosn, I guess I should read some alternative stuff, forgot the name for these non-norm lives. One small word of warning. There was a reason why I have never gone to Switzerland for le ski, and stuck to Italy /France. The reason became very obvious when I paid £18 for a pizza (not on top of the slopes I add but village level below) and £20 for a chicken faijita or £50 for a bottle of local red or £ for a swiss for crying out loud bar of chocolate. Oh the irony of the swiss chocolate. Then I got back and a little graph caught my eye in the Economist. In 2008 you got 2.4 swiss francs to the pounds. In 2011 you get 1.3. for some reason I had failed to check what a franc would buy. Apprx a third of a regular 125gms chocolate bar it seems. Of course the Swiss don't want undesirables non rich in their midst, that's well known. Plus this is good news for my Brit friends marooned in Portugal where their new life has not taken the turn they hoped for when they moved 3 years ago. Buy 2 properties, live in 1 and rent the other 1 out. As for work.. eh, er, mmmh. Finally a Swiss investor (dontcha know) is about to sweep both up and free them from the debt.

11 March - La Neige & le trans

Time flyes and this blog is neglected, mired in 'drafted posts' languishing w/o the benefit of a little editing. So this is just to say am either dying of some rare cancer (ok only symptom is rapid weight loss which normally may be welcome but not a dress size in two weeks w/o trying, that's got to spell something wrong right? Though my best friend has all the symptoms of ovarian cancer and we sort of exchanged our worries on the same day so that's probably like falling in line with your periods or something.
I will get checked out, next Friday GP booked. Won't take chances as have known people diagnosed in September (and too late) and dead in mid Feb. But in the meantime la neige m'appelle and going skiing in Swizerland courtesy of good friends with lovely house near Villars.
The surprise of the week is that (since good friends can be friends you don't talk to for half a year) is that Mme head is working on a postive sex website. Not sure what this means as can't access it yet, not launched. But she sounded super excited by it and that was infectious enough. Second surprise is that her daughter will also be on the skii trip but am instructed to call her now by a boy name, since she's changed it by deed poll and is in first stages of transgender op. Makes sense knowing her/him and happy for him. Hope not to say anything wrong in trying to be uber liberal.

Again, bad things are happening in the world, if it's not a war or an insurrection, it's a natural disaster and very sorry for all my Japanese friends out there. They are not directly affected but still, when a bad thing happens in a country, the whole country feels awful, not just the immedidate victims.

Willt this stop me crashing into bed early for my 5am cab to airport... not really, life goes on this far away. But sad, very sad today.

oh and if at work I hear again one of our most overused sentences 'Is it me or is it too hot here today', I think I'll scream.

6 march - Escaping from Angola

Sent this email to a friend. Am glad I live in the democratic northern sphere of the world. This below is my friend D. who works for de-mining organization xx based outside Huambo in Angola. She’s due back on a break end of April. Am not going to get too worried yet, but uprisings in Africa (or Greece for that matter) have a way to turn violent. I draw your attention to third paragraph below. Am just trying to be practical and think of help should he be needed. Do you in your travels have any government/media or military contacts in nearby Namibia which is where she would try to get to if needs to escape? See her route below. Of course you’d think xx people who largely ex military will know how to look after her, but... I don't trust men. Of course if you could scramble the google plane and have Bono on board that would be even better. Lemme know. On another note we have pro-government demos here on Friday and anti-government demos on Monday 7th. Being co-ordinated by Unita in Switzerland. they say they will also march in London and New York on same day. Police and army will be out in force on the streets here as this is Unita terrirory (where Savimbi lived) have just been told by my staff that most still have guns from the war-and that all will be well so long as the government don't kill anyone. if not a possible uprising. as all comms will be shut down by government (internet/mobile) just want to let you know my plan is to escape ( if necessary) south via Namibia as Luanda is 10 hours away and could be much more violent. The route is Menongue to Katwitwi (about 10 hours) the border crossing shuts at 5pm so would leave Huambo around 6am to arrive 4pm. then cross to Namibian side of border called Nkurekuru. Which is about 5/6 hours from Windheok, but there are good places to stay on that side of the border after crossing and would be able to make a call to let all know am ok.

5 March - Sheph Bush & LA art galleries

Going for dinner with old uni friends of Toph somewhere local to them in Sheph Bush. Regular thai place not that special food wise. He doesn't say much but he's nice, a good listener, though I can't rememer what he does, maybe writes for school type magazines? She's more interesting, does legal work with/for refugees so knows about foster parents and that gives somethign to talk about. They ahve a few kids, but the youngest at 7ish turned up just when they were ready to feel freer and now they're stuck for a few more years. So it's camping hols rather than freewheeling in Bali for them. Their daughter who doesn't want to go to uni. It's ok lots of people didn't but they are then the ones I know know who will somehow mention 'I left school at 15, I didn't go to uni' - subtext, but don't think you can patronise me as have since educated myself at the university of youtube etc. I mention anotehr friend who doesn't want hers to go to Uni for financial reasons/burden but it's hardly easier to come by a job and daughter wants gap year too, paid for by mother. I say let her go, maybe she'll find a job in Colombia or some such, see what happens, refuse to fund the trip beyond paying for half of it, if she really wants to go, she'll go sweep hairdresser floor for a year to get the money. for anyone with younger kids/babies/toddlers, I'd recommned reading the idle parent manifesto on the Idler Academy website. Great fun and I agree.

Back to the dinner above, wish I could meet her sister.. she runs an incredibly beautiful gallery in Santa Monica, the Louver? great pun on words. Took a look on the net and though how fab, spend the day with this art (all top notch) and wait for brangelina to drop by once in a while and get 2 of these and 2 of those and hey presto, that's your healthy lunch and juice paid for on the beach before you go to a yoga class at that great place P. took me too years ago before London had anything remotely comparable. They still don't.

4 March - Alcohol & Poisoning

Well known side effects or damage of growing older is intolerance to alcohol, then again I have never before made the mistake of drinking on an empty stomach, am much too practical for that, me and my banana or me and my piece of bread. But meeting D&R at Bohemia evil cocktail den under the pavement near Liverpool st led to spectacular downfall ending with £35 cross city cab at 1opm when the central line would have been fine.

So, don't mix grains (first cocktail was brandy based, second one vodka based), plus don't taste all the other 3 your friends are having. Thirdly, don't order second one the minute you've finished the first one as that dose of alcohol has not fully penetrated your blood stream yet so you don't realise you're a bit drunk already till you get up the stairs after the second drink.

You will then cross the road to go eat at Pizza East (not a favourite but needs must) and miss the dinner because you spent it sat on the (very clean, I was impressed) floor of one of the toilets, as you try to regain composure, go upstairs, sit down and look at your pizza only to excuse yourself again. You will also marvel at how your friends who have had the same mixture and have now finished a bottle of red are managing and conclude that the age difference is the only variant here.

Just as well we had chatted plenty and quickly before hand, at time of first cocktail though I don't remember much. Or actually I do, so I was not drunk, merely unwell as the spirits fought it out inside my veins.

D. admitting his foray into his own production company had done nothing but suck his own money for a year and he was back freelancing for others. R. enjoying living together - 8 months and counting - and perfectly placed to understand his struggles with cheesy TV as she had booked talent or some such for that CH4 gross bodies or teenage sex or whatever it was called prog. She confirms that the fat sex therapist of whom Toph very unkindly thought 'when's the last time she's had a relationship' simply because he would not find a size 16 to 18 sexy, is the sister of James Corden, so the fat runs in the family but look at half the country fancying Smithy.

A brief post mortem of Outcasts was conducted (friends are involved and Hermione Norris takes at least one kid to a school near my home) and revealed I was the only one who had seen more than 2 episodes (if 3 and a bit counts). D. thought it was good for the relationship of our friends that super successful one in the couple would now have to cope with this critical failure, as may re-balance the power lines. Mmmmhhh I just said no, she'll be depressed and p issed off that good cast and good writer turned out a turkey and he will be upset for her. We urged D & R to watc the Insider Job docu on the robbing and incestuous banks (which revealed to me that top tier Uni professors are also in the pockets of whoever pays for them to write papers for them and they plays stupid as pretending that the exchange of 100k here or there does not colour what they say. At this point I'd say don't send your kids to Harvard for Economics degrees. It's all bent.