Friday, 16 October 2009

Feedback Friday :: Up


bulk :: 13st 5
cigarettes :: meh, a few, but none on Sunday
booze :: lots; some every day
exercise :: nil
interviews :: 2
jobs :: 3


I’ve been very busy this week, fending off economic meltdown. I’m writing this from the boardroom of a giant Japanese financial institution in the heart of the belly of the groin of the beast. I’ve just finished having an initial meeting with a charming little Japanese fella who wants me to help him write reports and summaries and emails about base metal trading. I know, I know. Be still my panel-beating heart. When the meeting was over I asked him if I could hang around for half an hour and use the wifi. He said I could. So here I am.

I had something similar yesterday too. Different set-up, same nonsense.

Suddenly my life has changed, in oh so many ways. I’m not altogether sure I like it, but I’m not altogether sure I don’t. I think I might be a little ambivalent about it.

Speaking of ambivalence, yesterday I found myself wandering around the financial district and I felt myself simultaneously repulsed and elated. I made some notes as I thought I could write a heroic and visceral blog post about it. But I left them at home. All I remember now is two drunks fighting over a pink blanket, then fifteen minutes later four policemen, two of them donning purple rubber gloves and searching the drunks for knives and drugs, the blanket now nowhere in sight; I remember talking to an Evening Standard distributor who said that the new free status of the Standard had ruined him – they used to get 12p per copy, now they get 2p. He said he could have survived if they’d given 5p on the copy, but now he’d have to find different work. That was sad. And it made me glad that I was lucky enough not to have to hand out shoddy journalism to scowling suits; I remember being freshly amazed by the potpourri of London’s architecture and the thrill of sauntering through it all with time to spare and music in my ears. I love the way you can dip off one street dripping with gold, bronze and marble onto another street, seconds away, stinking of cabbages and dildos. I love that.

Actually, on reflection, I’ve decided I’m glad to be getting out of the house a little more.

Gosh. I’ve just eaten two plates of biscuits.

Oh, and another thing. I’ve got a date tonight. Wish me luck.

And have a smashing weekend yourself. What you up to? Anything overwhelmingly scintillating?



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19 comments:

notkeith said...

I'm torrenting porn.

With hilarious consequences.

nondisbeliever said...

This'll be my first night out in about a month. Trying to not let my new-found joblessness completely destroy my social life.

Have a good date. I hope those all biscuits don't come back to haunt you on the night.

daisyfae said...

drag costume party. fundraiser for the local AIDS resource center. at heart, i'm a drag queen. oh, but i'm gonna make those other bitches WEEP with envy when they see my 4" stilletto gold sparkly shoes! yaaaaaay!

luck!

Anonymous said...

Good luck on your date!

Maria in Oregon

ricardopresto said...

What kind of biscuits? And how big was the plate? Are we talking a saucer-sized helping of Rich Tea, or a bin lid full of Chocolate Hob Nobs? All the best of luck on your date - I've got my fingers, toes, legs and kidneys crossed for you xxx

clumpf said...

You're on fire Bete - lots of work AND a date. Your life is such a rollercoaster.

This weekend I'm going for lunch at a friend's farm. When this friend was younger him and his family used to take his donkey (Alex) for walking holidays on the South Downs. How quaint is that? The donkey would be loaded up with an old canvas army tent and they would walk for miles and then decamp.

But the donkey didn't like crossing rivers, so if they came to one, he would stubbornly refuse to move and they would have to a detour, sometimes up to 3 miles. I love my friend - his parents are original eccentrics.

Apart from that the chimney sweep is coming - my flue is blocked.

petrichoric said...

Well, good luck on your date.

I don't suppose you fancy joining a book group, do you? Over at my blog? I need a bloke or two to join, as most of my readers are female (well, the ones who comment, anyway). Take a look at today's (Friday October 16th's) post if you're interested.

Tuesday Kid said...

Hope you get your hole!

Running Queen said...

I like your tale of London, it's making me feel more positive about giving up my 3 bedroom suburban palace for a 1 bedroom pied a tierre in the city of Edinburgh. I am still fretting about how the accumulation of 30 plus years is going to get into a one bedroom flat but I am beginning to let go of some things in order to embrace city life.
I have to ask - what biscuits did you eat?
I am spending the entire weekend packing and giving away pieces of furniture on freecycle.
Good luck with the date, will we hear about it on Monday?

PurestGreen said...

Asked while bouncing from one foot to the other: HowdidyourdategoHowdidyourdategoHowdidyourdatego?

Henk Van Vleck said...

Ooh look at you, Mr big-shot author eating biscuits off a plate. Too good to eat them straight out the packet now eh?

La Bête said...

NK, you will go blind. And deaf.

ND, hope you had fun. Mmmmm, ghost biscuits.

Daisy, no one can walk in four-inch stilettos. Surely.

Thanks, Maria.

RP, they were a standard selection of biscuits – some custard creams, some bourbons, some super-melty abbey crunch-types. The plates, however, were thankfully quite small. There were probably no more than seven biscuits to a plate. Thanks.

No, Clumpf, you’re on fire. Poor Alex. Hope your flue’s clear. My God, it’s just occurred to me why Sooty and Sweep are called Sooty and Sweep. Thanks for that.

Thanks, P. No time for book clubs I’m afraid.

Um, thanks, TK. I’m overwhelmed by your sensitivity.

RQ, biscuit facts above. As for hearing, I don’t think so. I probably shouldn’t have said anything.

PG, it went OK I guess, but it won’t happen again. Least said, soonest mended.

HVV, I know. I’ll never eat biscuits from the packet again. Won’t touch ‘em. None of us big-shot authors do, except Hornby, who does it for show.

Donna Deluso said...

Smelling of dildos???? WTF - was that in a literal or figurative sense? Or was that something to do with the policeman's purple glove? Hope you had a fruitful date - can't wait for tails.

Anonymous said...

Yo! Finished your book. Nooice one, Stan. Especially the way you did the ending. And the family secret. And the extra not in the blog stuff. And .. achh, buy the book, innit. It's wryly witty.

Gonna email you. I'll be arsed soon.

X

Ann Anon

lilladyjo88 said...

so much to catch up on! been out on the country for a week and started my new job on monday (blatent paper pusher now..)

how did the date go????

also...what KIND of biscuits???

janetyjanet said...

I spent my weekend reading my new Amazon delivery - a tome by some geezer called Stan, all very good so far...

Antipo Déesse said...

Sad about your date outcome. Happy about your biscuits though.

Christine said...

Your blog inspires me, panel-beating heart and all. To wit, like you, to woo, too. :)

Columbo said...

Hey. I haven't read your blog in a while and enjoyed this. "Scowling suits" and other phrases were great. I'll check back more often.