Well the meeting of destiny has come to an end. Today I say good-bye to Jen before she jets back to Sydney for Christmas. Despite our fears, having the two of us in the same place did not end the world although I think it probably changed both our worlds somewhat.
It’s been a bit of a whirlwind. In some ways it has felt like Jen has been here forever and in another way the past week and a bit has flown past in a haze of dinners, Doctor Who, Boosh, Twilight and endless social engagements.
I can only hope that Jen has enjoyed having a taste of my madcap life and meeting almost all of my crazy friends as much as I have loved having her here and my friends have loved meeting her.
It’s going to be kind of weird now being on my own again. Everything seems oddly quiet at the moment… as if something crazy is about to happen… whether it’s good crazy or bad crazy or just my own unfounded feelings of unease, only time will tell.
On Wednesday I took Jen on one of my “walking tours” of the West End. I don’t think I was anywhere near as good as our Beatles tour guide since I don’t really know what a lot of the landmarks actually are and I include things like the David & Goliath shop and the Zavvi flagship store on my tour. Fun was had though. In Covent Garden we got dragged into a street performance where Jen was almost liberated of £50 and I was not only used as a coat rack but also became the official timer of a record attempt at a Houdini-like escape from a straightjacket. Yes, really.
After jumping around in the fake snow outside Hamleys and admiring the positively feral snowmen down Carnaby Street, it was time to head off to the O2 to meet Fabio and Georgie for the Mighty Boosh live.
Having seen the DVD of the previous incarnation of the live show I have to say I think I preferred that but the current show is still brilliant. The first half featured little guest slots from all the much loved characters from the TV show including an interactive dance lesson from Bob Fossil, some rapping from the moon and an absolutely hysterical interlude from Tony Harrison, which saw Noel Fielding fall off the stand he was on inside a hollowed out sofa, leaving him forced to prop himself up with his Adam’s apple.
In the second half we were treated to a post-apocalyptic environmental awareness starring, written and directed by Howard Moon. Of course it wouldn’t be the Boosh if halfway through Vince didn’t hijack the play appearing as futuristic fashion guru Sunflush, complete with Chavese (half Chinese, half chav) accent. It turns out we don’t need to worry about Global warming. All we need is a makeover from Jean-Paul Jackettie (sp?)
Our “encore” came in the form of a performance by the Boosh Band dressed as nannas that ended with the “I Did A Shit On Your Mum” punk song, which I have had stuck in my head since and ended up singing at dinner last night.
“I did a shit on your shit
I did a shit on your shit
I did a shit on your shit
And I rather liked it!”
Unfortunately our evening was dampened by a nightmarish journey home that involved me being obscenely propositioned by a drunk middle-aged man who appeared to like my silver leggings…
Jen and I have been so busy that I feel like I have to do my blog in relays! On Tuesday we headed to Marylebone to go on the Beatles Walk. It’s a guided tour through the surrounding areas pointing out all the sites that had significance in the Beatles’ history, including some of the film locations for Help! and A Hard Day’s Night and the infamous Apple Retail and Apple Records, ending at Abbey Road studios. The tour goes on specific days of the week and you just turn up at the allotted time and join in.
Our tour guide was absolutely charming and I felt for him when the super-obnoxious Americans that had come along started asking stupid questions and arguing with him. He made the mistake of mentioning that Marylebone is a trendy and very affluent area and even Madonna lives there. The Americans then wanted to know how much each house cost and where Madonna lives… *sigh*. They also tried to convince the guide that most of the Beatles albums were recorded in the States and not at Abbey Road… and again *sigh*.
On Tuesday evening was my work Xmas party. I love the people I work with and I really didn’t want to miss and opportunity to party with them or to get dressed up for that matter, so I left Jen in Barb’s capable hands and Cinderella went to the ball. This year for the first time they combined our company’s annual awards with the seasonal festivities. I was sceptical at first but it worked really well. The theme was Russian Winter… or something like that… and it all took place at the beautiful Evolution in Battersea.
For me half the excitement was seeing my normally very casual team dressed up to the nines, particularly the boys in their suits. I wore the dress I wore to Kirsty’s wedding. It was much appreciated by many of the party attendees. It’s a real cleavage bearer and I got a number of “flattering” comments as well as a (refused) offer of a bed for the night from an unnamed suitor. Considering his state of inebriation I can’t imagine that he even remembers. Have to say I felt very glamorous. No matter how nicely you clean up though, we always revert to our normal selves and Nat and I ended up with our shoes off going mental to The Prodigy. As you can see, a good time was had by all. Oh and big hugs to Sam for the Candy DVD he got me in our not- so-secret Santa.
Just a high-speed blog to let you all know that Jen and I are having the time of our lives adventuring around London. I picked her up from Victoria yesterday and by pure serendipity of circumstance Nik was also in London and cold join me as a surprise. The three of us all met via our blogs, while in three different countries and being face-to-face in the same place seemed surreal. It’s a real testament to Internet friendships that we didn’t miss a beat without our keyboards to hide behind. I know these people will be my friends for the rest of my life. It doesn’t matter where the friendship started.
Poor Jen got dragged straight into Playboy Mansion life. First we dragged her to Sainsbury’s. Then she had to make me watch dinner and finally we subjected her to the Miss World pageant, which happened to be on TV. We were in absolute stitches. If you’ve ever asked yourself the question, “what’s cheesier than X-Factor?” The answer is The Miss World pageant… or festival as they seem to be calling it now.
Today we toured the Camden markets, the World’s End, Belgo and Tower Bridge. Oh and jammed in some Doctor Who. For me the most gratifying thing about being with Jen is that she gets ALL my references. Every single one. We are so attuned that we don’t even speak in full sentences. We can genuinely have conversations that sound like, “you that thing that sounds like the other thing?” and the other one knows what we mean!
Tomorrow, the Beatles Walk! Yay!
Anyone who reads this blog regularly will have heard me mention my friend, Jen. What you may not know is that until yesterday Jen and I had never met face-to-face. Almost three years ago the two of us had a chance encounter online via blog comments and somehow realised that we were not ordinary strangers and that we were meant to stumble across one another. Since then we have gradually built a friendship through the discovery that we have shared if not identical interests and an alarmingly similar way of seeing the world. We graduated from reading each other’s internet ramblings, to emails, to daily msn conversations and eventually writing together, sending international goodie bags and becoming an intrinsic part of each other’s lives. The problem has always been that Jen lives in Sydney and I live in London.
On Thursday Jen arrived with her family in my city for the start of her 21st birthday trip through Europe that ends with ten days staying with me. Yesterday I got to meet her for the first time. It was one of the most intense emotional experiences of my life. She was exactly as I imagined her. Her poor parents must have been puzzled by the strange little language we speak to each other and how we could not stop hugging each other. When we eventually had to part ways so that she could continue the leg of her trip that includes travelling through Ireland and mainland Europe, I found I missed her desperately from the moment I walked away. I absolutely cannot wait until she comes to stay with me although the implications of how I feel when she goes back to Sydney loom like a black cloud just at the edge of my excitement.
A slight feeling of gloom has descended on the Playboy Mansion. Suddenly we are facing the first weekend in about 6 weeks that does not contain a birthday party or some other kind of crazy social event. Although this is a good thing since constant partying has left us weary and broke, it does make one feel a little flat. I think poor Kelly has the worst of the non-stop party train backlash since she has developed a serious throat infection and is languishing in bed. Get well soon, kid!
It’s not all bad though. There are still many things to look forward to. One of which is Tino, Hilt and Don’s upcoming WWE party. That’s right… our guy friends have decided to have a wrestling themed party. It’s pretty obvious, considering the way most female wrestlers are dressed, what the motivation behind this little idea was. I think I have an idea for my costume. I guess whatever I decide to wear it is inevitable that I will look like a tool! All the cool characters are male. I wanna be this guy! Guess, I’ll just have to invent my own wrestler… I think I’ll call her Rock ‘n Roll Queen and her finishing move will be the “killer riff”!
The biggest thing on my excitement list is the imminent arrival of my amazing friend, the light of my life, Jen, who will be in London in December. She’s on a tour of Europe with her mum and dad and will be flitting in and out of the big smoke in late November and early December before pulling into the Playboy Mansion for 10 days of what will probably be non-stop giggling and fangirling. We will also be checking out The Mighty Boosh Live and Dashboard Confessional. Currently counting down the days.
Finally there are many other good gigs in the run up to the end of the year… Cage The Elephant, MGMT, Twin Atlantic, Pendulum and … KINGS OF LEON!
Oh and today’s funny… I met someone today who told me he could clearly hear my antipodean accent but that he wasn’t going to ask me if I was Aussie or Kiwi because that would be rude. He was very self-satisfied and smug when he made this revelation. Should have seen his face when I told him I’m South African. Strike 1 for the forgotten antipode race…
Wait… why was I feeling gloomy again?
I have become obsessed with Cage The Elephant. This happens every now and then, when I discover a band and I don’t want to listen to anything else. Now while the absolutely vein-boiling guitar magic of their songs is undeniable, a large part of the obsession is around vocalist, Matt Schultz. I cannot explain my attraction to his accent. The man is from Bowling Green, Kentucky and he sounds full on trash-South. There are extra syllables in his words. He says ain’t. You can even hear the twang when he sings. I should not think this is sexy… but I do. I want to wear his accent like a jacket… I want to lick it! Jen likens this to her desire to sleep in Matt Bellamy’s piano. I’m pretty sure neither of us has taken enough drugs to be this mad. This is Matt Schultz. He’s really not even that cute but if he whispered even the words of Back Stabbin’ Betty (which is really just a string of insults) to me, I’d follow him pretty much anywhere.
Last night Don convinced Kelly and I to watch some of Employee Of The Month before America’s Next Top Model came on. I have to hope that Don was only into it because Jessica Simpson is the female lead because it is possibly the worst start of a film (thank God we only had to watch the first hour) that I have ever seen. Poor old Jess could be out acted by a lidless highlighter pen… and a storyline that involves female shoppers being driven wild by a cashier’s ability to speedily check their groceries is absolutely baffling. Unless this is normal in America… anyone?
Anyway, the film made me think about the logic of attraction. I look at Jessica Simpson and I can aesthetically understand why she is “pretty” but she is so bland and so predictable that I don’t see what about her would excite someone. I have the same thing with many actors and male models that are supposed to be sexy. I am bored by the perfectly cut physiques and immaculate teeth. I wonder what the psychology is behind attraction. What makes some people look at the blonde, buff, tanned and chiselled creatures of the world and pick a skinny, big-haired, tattooed guy with a slightly off-kilter nose (and potentially a trash-South accent if there is one going spare). So kids, what’s your preference… conventionally attractive or sexy-weird… Jessica Simpson or Kat Von D? Daniel Craig or Mat Devine? Cast your vote in the comments…
I think I have obsessed enough for one day…
I was alerted to a very interesting bit of news by Jen this morning. (High fives by the way to Jen who has also jumped ship from Live Spaces to Blogspot, you can find her shiny new blog here. I suppose we owe a debt of gratitude to Live Spaces, as nasty as it is since it introduced us to each other). It appears that Apple may close the itunes store. Jen tried to share this information with me via a link on facebook but the link was swiftly removed… is big brother watching us? Anyway, I did some research myself and found this article.
It appears that The Copyright Royalty Board has intentions of increasing the royalty rates paid to music publishers. If this happens, Apple is faced with upping download prices or making a loss. Apparently they are not keen on either of these options. The Copyright Royalty Board claims that the music publishers will now be giving more money to artists. If I genuinely believed this, I might not complain too much if the download prices went up. I have a bit of a free-for-all attitude to music… sometimes I pay for downloads… sometimes I borrow *cough* pirate *cough*… it depends on what is around. The reason I don’t feel too bad about my sometimes dodgy acquisition of music is that the artists, who are the people I care about, see so little of the royalties. Trust me, after the number of onstage rants I’ve heard from bands, I have no doubt. I’d rather go to gigs and buy merch, then I know they’re getting the money. Anyway… it will be very interesting to see what happens with this one… so stay tuned.
In other news, I came home yesterday to discover that my entire shower had been ripped out. I was expecting them just to do some patching and sealing because of the leak but now it looks like I am getting a whole new shower. I would like to officially retract Tuesday’s whinge. My shower was falling apart, the doors barely worked and the wall was all icky next to it from damp. A whole new shower would be like having a whole new bathroom. Yippee!
Today’s obsession is Little Miss Sunshine. The first time I watched this dysfunctional family comedy-drama, I had no idea what to expect. In fact, I don’t think I was expecting much but by the end of the film I was absolutely charmed. The film has very little storyline. A family struggling with a father’s who is failing as a motivational speaker, a gay uncle who has attempted suicide, a son who doesn’t speak and a grandfather who snorts heroin go on a road trip across America to get adorable eight year-old, Olive, to the Little Miss Sunshine Pageant. It sounds somewhat random but the characters and their interactions are so interesting and so funny because they are so relatable. It is of course, Abigail Breslin, as Olive who completely steals the film from her older and much more experienced co-stars (Toni Colette, Alan Arkin, Steve Carrell and Greg Kinnear). I can’t help but adore Paul Dano in the role of Dwayne, as he sums up almost all of the total alienation, I felt as a teenager. I know it doesn’t sound like a feelgood film but you will come away with a smile, trust.