Friday, 7 November 2008

Feedback Friday :: Change

It’s been a funny old week. While the rest of the world’s been getting high on hope, I’ve been getting increasingly depressed on trains and tubes, and increasingly sick of spending my days in a small room with a man with a gastric problem. I also found out this week that the government job I was hoping for has been put back again. I should still get it, but not for another week or two.

God, I’m bored.

Also, it looks like Keith is leaving London. I’m not sure he’s making the right decision personally, but of course, it’s his decision to make. Not mine. Now, don’t tell anyone, but he plans on doing a rent-runner at the end of the month. This is because he hasn’t yet paid this month’s rent yet and landlord Dudley – because he’s rich as Croesus and has more properties than I have teeth - hasn’t even noticed. So Keith’s skipping town, leaving behind – as well as one month’s unpaid rent – one broken bed and one horribly, suspiciously stained and torn living room carpet. He’ll lose his deposit of course, but Dudley will still come out on top, so Keith figures it’s fair. I figure he’s probably right. Ish. This means I have until the end of the month – or until Dudley notices that the rent hasn’t been paid – to find somewhere new to live. Or of course I could take over this place, but frankly, this place, and Peckham as a whole, has rather lost its charm.

So. Back to Gumtree I go. Or I suppose I could start doing the rounds of agents. I do so despise them however. I’ve never met an agent who wasn’t either unscrupulous and self-centred to the point of pure evil, or, if not evil, severely mentally retarded. It's not uncommon of course, to meet a rancid melange of the two.

Still, needs must.

So. Keith may well be Burnley-bound as soon as the end of this coming week. So this weekend, we're going to buy some drugs.

In other news, I had this dream that I was sitting around with Stephen Fry and Simon Amstell and we were trying to think up cat-related Beatles song puns. I have no idea why, but it was possibly a new round on Never Mind the Buzzcocks.

‘Let It Beep,’ offered Stephen.

Simon and I looked at one another. Simon was wearing that expression he wears when he’s about to say something terrible and mean, but he didn’t want to say anything terrible and mean to Stephen Fry. Rather, he wanted to have snuggle up with him on a large bed.

‘Cats, Stephen,’ I said. ‘Cats don’t beep.’

‘Oh,’ said Stephen. ‘No, that’s right. Sorry.’

‘That’s OK,’ I said. ‘Try and think of another one.’

‘I’ve Got A Feline,’ said Simon.

‘Moggie Mae,’ I added.

‘Maxwell’s Silver Hamster,’ said Stephen.

Please,’ I said. ‘Stephen. You're ruining this for the rest of us.’

'Sorry,' said Stephen, ashamed.

‘Please Please Miaow,’ said Simon.

‘I Want To Hold Your Paw,’ I added, pleased with myself.

‘Sergeant Puppy’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,’ said Stephen.

Which was when it occurred to me that Stephen was merely toying with us. Of course he could think of cat puns. He was Stephen Fry. He could think of cat puns until the cow puns came home.

Which was when Simon Amstell turned to me and said, ‘Remind me. Why are you here?’

‘Oh, don’t be mean,’ said Stephen, but he was tittering like he didn’t mean it, like he was enjoying the meanness.

Which was when I noticed that Morag was sitting on Stephen Fry’s lap with her blouse unbuttoned and her bra pulled down to her navel. Stephen Fry seemed to be weighing her breasts in each of his hands. ‘So what’s the point of these exactly?’ he said.

And then, as Morag began to suckle Stephen Fry, I awoke, strangely depressed, and horribly aroused.

I wonder what it can mean.

So, this weekend, as well as attempting to procure some send-off narcotics, I’m going to start packing my life into boxes again.


And you? What have you got planned?

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Clare Sudders said...

Suckling Stpehen Fry. Hmmm. I'm trying to think of something amusing to say. I'm failing.

This weekend? Oh, fuck knows. Somebody is having a birthday curry. I'm not that keen on birthdays, or curries, and I have a breastfeeding baby to think about, and I get tired easily, and bored easily, but I may contrive to go anyway. Or I may not. I dunno. I may read carbon copies of ancient manuscripts of unpublished thrillers unpublished by my gran in the 60s. She had some published too, but I've already read them.

You're jealous, aren't you? My life is scintillating, I tell you. Scintillating.

(I'm not sure if something essentially inanimate can be scintillating though. Can it? I dunno).

Wisewebwoman said...

Your dream is fascinating, on many levels, all aspects of your psyche, turmoil, brick walls in the writing, a longing for 'home', etc. Can't you tell? I do dream analysis.
My weekend, hair cut and colour, an afternoon birthday party in a large old haunted house, interior of my house being painted in wild colours, some writing, some reading, some dog walking.

Anonymous said...

No big plans. I have a whole season of Dexter on DVD I plan to see. I've read the books, and at first was quite irked that the second season completely departed from the books. But it's quite interesting what they've done with the characters. I am boring. Maybe I'll play my fiddle and make my neighbours hate me.

Maria in Oregon

Selena said...

Coming slightly down off of my hope high (not really), maybe I can drink some OJ to kick it in again...Jealous of you, because you and Not Keith will be using the real stuff. Oh, well- can't do naughty things when prepping to get a 2nd job.

DAMN Drug tests! Damn economy!

Going to see a friend perform some acoustic something or other at some coffee shop, helping my other friend to start to plan her wedding, perhaps see a movie, maybe have a beer or two and hopefully make a bad, yet fun, decesion...

Good Luck on finding a new place.

Anonymous said...

This weekend I will be revelling in the fact that I am in Edinburgh, not London, and I don't have to get on another plane until - ooooo, Monday. Between now and then there is whisky, the odd spot of housework and my shift in Oxfam bookshop, with whisky to follow. Simple pleasures, and plenty of them.

Move to Edinburgh. It's just as expensive as London and colder, but infinitely more interesting and less depressingm Oh, it's good to be home.

Have a good one. Remember Vanish for that stain on the carpet.


Anonymous said...

painting my kitchen. red, i think. if you really need a place to stay, perhaps we could work something out. how are you with a brush?

Rose said...

This weekend?
Well, today's my birthday.
So, this weekend starts the 'Rose Week-long Birthday Celebration!'
Tomorrow, I will be going to a cat show. And the rest of the week is wide open.

Miss Mohair said...

Sending flowers for friend's birthday who lives interstate.
Going to work but only lasting hour and a half of shift due to onset of excessive weeping (embarrassing!)
Hoping new anti-weeping wills will work soon, as I phase out the old ones.
Enjoying being safe and warm in bed while the wind is windy and the rain is rainy.
Listening to radio while waiting to fall asleep.
Cream sponge with berries and a cup of tea.
Probably more weeping.

Nick Tann said...

My best and oldest friend is coming to stay for the weekend. I have found some old recordings of bands we were in together so we will listen and laugh. I plan to record it all for further podcastings as I thought my first two efforts deady dull.
Tomorrow I will be meeting up with musicians of in a local pub for a musical/social get together. A great pub but dreadfull owners, word has it that they have run out of beer AGAIN! Don't let hippies run pubs........

Anonymous said...

The weekend has already well and truly started where I am. It's not going well so far.

I went to a work bbq this arvo at the HoD's luxurious house - spa pool on the deck, amazing views all directions, bathrooms that cost more to build than my entire flat, and so forth. Nice, except for being surrounded by happy families (tonnes of kids) and kissing couples looking dreamily into each other's eyes. The only unattached people there, apart from myself, were some anti-male female students (big issues there, I tell you) and a couple of sorry-for-themselves middle aged people who keep wondering why the opposite sex has found them so unappealing (for, like, the last 20 years).

I'm on the cusp. Not the bitchy young student any more, and not yet the moaning middle aged singleton. Quite worrying really.

And then a party didn't happen tonight. It was supposed to be a "leatherama", and there'd be mostly young lawyers attending. Well, crud.

I'm going to bed.

Oh, and good luck with the flat hunt. x

Assassin said...

Good luck with that government job.

I hope your friend won't get into trouble for rent running. Though you mentioned that hes got some deposit but still. Well, lets hope for the best.:P

Weekend hmmm...I'm still looking for someone who can shoot me, preferably in the arm, with an IV of Absolut I think that would be awesome or the least lock me in a pink room. Yep, its one of those days.

I always enjoy reading your blogs, hope you dont mind coz im adding you to my bloglist :D

Enjoy your weekend! Oh and my word verification - its 'porking' wonder what that means, lol!

La Bête said...

Thanks, all. What an incredibly miserable day today is in South East London. Hope your various plans are working out well, and better than some of you imagined. Especially yours, Miss Mohair.

Happy Birthday, Rose!

Luka said...

Be honest now. Do you really, truly want to know what I'm up to this weekend? Do you give a stuff? Or do you just want some of my sweet commentary?

Yeah, you like that, doncha?

Fat Hobbit Girl said...

How rotten! A Stephen Fry dream should be a treat. Him being mean is not on.

Also, here's a bright side - you might be able to get a cat in the next place.

Yesterday I did fuck all, and today is shaping up to be more of the same. Wey hey! Plus, you know, remembering. I'm passing up a blues festival later on in favour of a pub quiz, which makes me wonder who I am and what I've done with Fat Hobbit Girl. And I'm going to make fantastic ice cream.

Anonymous said...

I do miss the days afore comment moderation - there was more of a spontaneous dialogue. Hope you cheer up soon, matey. Weather in London is gorgeous too!

Take Care big guy.

Ann Anon