I've said to heaps of people that I don't live in the safest part of London, but it isn't the worst part either. Tonight I picked Netta up from the new St Pancras and took her to Suza's house. On the way home, discovered that I had wandered into what looked like a set from The Bill. Police tape, a huge amount of 'bobbies' and those little white tents they put up to preserve blood stains. This is what had happened, for anyone who is interested: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2007/12/27/nstabbing127.xml
Of course, because they'd blocked a big chunk of Upper Street off, there were no buses heading down Essex Road and no cabs in the area either. So of course I am left with no other option but to walk home through hoodie central. Which to me only increases the likelihood of someone else (ie. me) getting mugged/stabbed/accosted by drunks. Oh look, I live in Islington/Stoke Newington where there have been numerous other stabbings of late. I think I'll just take a late night stroll home.
Anyway, I'm now watching comic relief. Stabbings and Take That performing for charity. Tomorrow I am heading out to buy a Kevlar jacket.
Welcome to England Netta.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Belgian Things
Christmas in Belgium was fantastic. In the sense that any time you can go to a country where you can eat cones of frites and drink super strong beer with impunity, you are inevitably going to have a good time.
The Christmas markets were nice. The heavy food was great. The weather was crisp and sunny. And at 3€ for a glass of Leffe, any potential possible homesickness was washed away in an alcoholic fog. (This is a joke, mum and dad. I wasn't spending Christmas singing carols to myself in a drunken stupor. No - I was eating a chicken club sandwich and having a nice afternoon nap while reading the presents I was given by my 'orphan family').
So yes, I had a good time, not much homesickness and the enduring feeling that Christmas in Europe at least feels like Christmas and that maybe we in the southern hemisphere should just celebrate something different altogether. Something that doesn't require us to put an aging man with a white beard into board shorts on the beach in order to make it at all appropriate to our environment.
Having said all this, I have come to the conclusion that Belgium is perhaps the MOST boring country in Europe. I mean, it's pretty and people are friendly and I will grant that it was Christmas, but it just didn't feel that interesting to me. Mayeb it was my mood. Maybe it's because it wasn't the ideal time of year to do all the 'war stuff'.
But I don't think anything illustrates that innate boredom that is Belgium than the fact that one of Brussels' most popular tourist attractions is 'mini Europe'. Which cost €12 to get into. Or 4 glasses of Leffe. And there you have the Belgian view of Europe. In which 'Europe' is really only the countries in the EU. Ooooooo...political.
The Netherlands will be 'New in 2008.
The awesome work of 20th Century engineering, the Channel Tunnel, is represented by a piece of PVC pipe and some pond water. With a small mechanical train for good measure.
The Ireland display came complete with barnyard noises.
Slovenia didn't even crack a monument. Just a patch of grass. Same for Estonia and some of the other 'lesser' EU Nations.
Belgium seemed to have twice as many objects of interest as France, and I am telling you, it just isn't so.
The collapse of the Berlin wall was shown with a Tonka truck pulling down a small piece of plastic with some truly bizarre sound effects.
The most amazing thing about this was that some of these displays cost €350 000 to make. Those must have been some expensive Tonka toys.
So that was Belgium. And Christmas. Thanks to Wayne, Katie and Deaks for sharing my Christmas with me and preventing me from just sitting around, eating chocolate and watching TV. Oh, wait....
I will post pictures of mini Europe when I feel like I can loko at them without cracking up.
The Christmas markets were nice. The heavy food was great. The weather was crisp and sunny. And at 3€ for a glass of Leffe, any potential possible homesickness was washed away in an alcoholic fog. (This is a joke, mum and dad. I wasn't spending Christmas singing carols to myself in a drunken stupor. No - I was eating a chicken club sandwich and having a nice afternoon nap while reading the presents I was given by my 'orphan family').
So yes, I had a good time, not much homesickness and the enduring feeling that Christmas in Europe at least feels like Christmas and that maybe we in the southern hemisphere should just celebrate something different altogether. Something that doesn't require us to put an aging man with a white beard into board shorts on the beach in order to make it at all appropriate to our environment.
Having said all this, I have come to the conclusion that Belgium is perhaps the MOST boring country in Europe. I mean, it's pretty and people are friendly and I will grant that it was Christmas, but it just didn't feel that interesting to me. Mayeb it was my mood. Maybe it's because it wasn't the ideal time of year to do all the 'war stuff'.
But I don't think anything illustrates that innate boredom that is Belgium than the fact that one of Brussels' most popular tourist attractions is 'mini Europe'. Which cost €12 to get into. Or 4 glasses of Leffe. And there you have the Belgian view of Europe. In which 'Europe' is really only the countries in the EU. Ooooooo...political.
The Netherlands will be 'New in 2008.
The awesome work of 20th Century engineering, the Channel Tunnel, is represented by a piece of PVC pipe and some pond water. With a small mechanical train for good measure.
The Ireland display came complete with barnyard noises.
Slovenia didn't even crack a monument. Just a patch of grass. Same for Estonia and some of the other 'lesser' EU Nations.
Belgium seemed to have twice as many objects of interest as France, and I am telling you, it just isn't so.
The collapse of the Berlin wall was shown with a Tonka truck pulling down a small piece of plastic with some truly bizarre sound effects.
The most amazing thing about this was that some of these displays cost €350 000 to make. Those must have been some expensive Tonka toys.
So that was Belgium. And Christmas. Thanks to Wayne, Katie and Deaks for sharing my Christmas with me and preventing me from just sitting around, eating chocolate and watching TV. Oh, wait....
I will post pictures of mini Europe when I feel like I can loko at them without cracking up.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Red Red Wine/I Want To Ride My Bicycle/It Is A Truth Universally Acknowledged
I haven't blogged for a while. I don't know why. I have been busy, but no busier than usual. I have felt guilty about it, not fo your sake (I note hte overwhelming concern about my safety given that everyone is trying to blow everything up), but for mine, because the leather bound journal idea has long sense ceased to be a reality so whatever I am writing here is likely to be the only permanent record of anything I have done. Jon suggested that one day I may look back at the time I have taken writing in a journal, or blogging, and think 'I wish I had spent my time doing other things'. I would tend to disagree.
One day I am going to forget everything (I can't veen remember where I was on Tuesday, although given how hungover I've been all this week I must have been drinking. No - that's right, I went to London Bridge for a drink with Marianne. See, I figured it out, but that won't always be possible)
It is a Friday night. I am sitting in my flat, alone, with a bottle of wine, Sam Cooke, and candle light. Cliche, much? Nice to do nothing.
BATH
A couple of weeks ago (30th of June) Marianne and I headed to Bath.
We got there and headed straight to Bristol so that Kat could look for a wedding dress. Her and Adam are newly engaged. None of you know these people. I didn't until a couple of weeks ago. I am trying to paint a picture.
Didn't get to see much of Bath because of the rain. I ducked into the Jane Austen museum briefly. Sorry Steph. Disappointing. The best bit was buying 'Persuasion' and reading it on the train home, where I had to stand for two hours because because hte train was over booked and we didn't get seats. Post Jane Austen Museum we went and looked at the die hards playing Boules in teh rain. They take their local tournament very seriously. It made me want to live in an English Village.
We were basically in Bath for the Taste food Festival. This being England, and it being summer, the outdoor food festival was a washout. An outdoor food festival in the pouring rain. The free ponchos they handed out in the door did little to warm us up. The tent giving out free whiskey did. As did the beer and wine tasting courses. Ah, the simple things.
Post drenching at the food festival we went out to a pub/club in bath where I ened up talking ot the DJ for about 3 hours about Motown. He even let me handle his vinyl. No, that is not a double entendre. All I am saying is that over here, the records Rob would charge me $15 for are about 50p. I think I may have to ship things home. Fun night all around.
Adam (I was staying with friends of Marianne's called Kat and Adam) woke me up the next morning for a game of Blackgammon, which he had taught me to play the day before. My response would have been 'I am not afraid of you and I will beat your ass' except for the fact that I am still not Yo La Tengo and my head was ripping open. Well, I did beat him. But I am not sure it counts if he is actually helping you because your head feels like it is going to explode. Having said that - I'm throwing the gauntlet down to anyone who wants to take me on.
Went to the cutest pub for lunch in a neighbouring village. It was about 400 years old and the floor actually sloped. Had a Sunday roast. Delightful. And then back to London.
TOUR DE FRANCE
London is a big city. The Tour de France was a big event. I don't know many people ion London. Hence it came as somewhat of a surprise to run straight into Dave, who I went to Siberia with, while walking through Green Park. Sat with Wayne and his parents, Katie, Deaks and Dave to watch the big screen, absorb the atmosphere and eat ice cream.
Watched a couple of cyclists live, but they went past pretty quickly and the crowds at the barrier were huge. I have some video which I will post when I figure out how.
The Above video kind've goes like this: road, road, road, road, vague applause, bikebikebike, louder applause, car, car, road, Kate fumbling with the camera. I don't know why SBS hasn't hired me as their girl on the ground.
Post Tour - went home, got changed, met up with Wayne and crew in Brick Lane for some Indian food where hte service was appalling, even by London standards. My favourite part was where they tried to give us dirty plates because they'd picked up the wrong pile. Deligthful. But it was a pretty fun night. The cool bit about Brick Lane is that in order to walk there you have to walk past the scene of some of Jack the Ripper's crimes, and the pub where 'Lock Stock' was shot. Just so you know.
DANIEL JOHNSTON (12th July)
Went and saw Ganiel Johnston play at Union Chapel in Islington last night. It was amazing. It is a real, live church.
And he was amazing. He was childlike and breakable. All I wanted to do was give him a big hug. He covered the Beatles (Hide Your Love Away) and he said he was going to make a joke, but last time he told it he got in trouble with his brother, mother and father and that since he only had two jokes, we'd have to wait. He was cute and mischeivious in his black and blue tracksuit. He was also remarkably confident and engaging.
His arms shook quite badly, and he was constanyl leaning on the mic - but it still blew your mind. After playing the first couple of songs on guitar/piano by himself, the muscial accompaniment was lef tto others. Much more muscial that way. And Daniel (weird familiarity) was able to concentrate of singing. He did a few songs with Neva Dinova which was awesome. I have quite a lot of video of this and if I figure out how to upload it, you can all enjoy my attempts to film and clap at the same time.
My favourite part of the evening? When he did his last song and he called it 'a wish for all of us' and then sung 'True Love Will Find You In The End'. It was pretty darned amazing. Even an old cynic like me was overwhlemed. Unsurprisingly, he got a standing ovation. He is such a dude. He looked so happy with himself through out the whole gig. He also said it was one of the best gigs they'd done this tour.
Incidentally, Marianne was meant to accompany me to this but she got stuck at work drinks (and by stuck, I mean drunk) and didn't make it. She should have scalped her 20 pound ticket for 50 quid, which is what the people on the sidewalk were willing to pay. Would have been worth every pent.
Anyway, this weekend I am resolved to do touristy things.
PS. Post writing all of htis, I have uploaded some stuff to YouTube so the I've added some video. I will upload DJ tomorrow as it is now 1.30am and I am tired beyond belief.
One day I am going to forget everything (I can't veen remember where I was on Tuesday, although given how hungover I've been all this week I must have been drinking. No - that's right, I went to London Bridge for a drink with Marianne. See, I figured it out, but that won't always be possible)
It is a Friday night. I am sitting in my flat, alone, with a bottle of wine, Sam Cooke, and candle light. Cliche, much? Nice to do nothing.
BATH
A couple of weeks ago (30th of June) Marianne and I headed to Bath.
We got there and headed straight to Bristol so that Kat could look for a wedding dress. Her and Adam are newly engaged. None of you know these people. I didn't until a couple of weeks ago. I am trying to paint a picture.
Didn't get to see much of Bath because of the rain. I ducked into the Jane Austen museum briefly. Sorry Steph. Disappointing. The best bit was buying 'Persuasion' and reading it on the train home, where I had to stand for two hours because because hte train was over booked and we didn't get seats. Post Jane Austen Museum we went and looked at the die hards playing Boules in teh rain. They take their local tournament very seriously. It made me want to live in an English Village.
We were basically in Bath for the Taste food Festival. This being England, and it being summer, the outdoor food festival was a washout. An outdoor food festival in the pouring rain. The free ponchos they handed out in the door did little to warm us up. The tent giving out free whiskey did. As did the beer and wine tasting courses. Ah, the simple things.
Post drenching at the food festival we went out to a pub/club in bath where I ened up talking ot the DJ for about 3 hours about Motown. He even let me handle his vinyl. No, that is not a double entendre. All I am saying is that over here, the records Rob would charge me $15 for are about 50p. I think I may have to ship things home. Fun night all around.
Adam (I was staying with friends of Marianne's called Kat and Adam) woke me up the next morning for a game of Blackgammon, which he had taught me to play the day before. My response would have been 'I am not afraid of you and I will beat your ass' except for the fact that I am still not Yo La Tengo and my head was ripping open. Well, I did beat him. But I am not sure it counts if he is actually helping you because your head feels like it is going to explode. Having said that - I'm throwing the gauntlet down to anyone who wants to take me on.
Went to the cutest pub for lunch in a neighbouring village. It was about 400 years old and the floor actually sloped. Had a Sunday roast. Delightful. And then back to London.
TOUR DE FRANCE
London is a big city. The Tour de France was a big event. I don't know many people ion London. Hence it came as somewhat of a surprise to run straight into Dave, who I went to Siberia with, while walking through Green Park. Sat with Wayne and his parents, Katie, Deaks and Dave to watch the big screen, absorb the atmosphere and eat ice cream.
Watched a couple of cyclists live, but they went past pretty quickly and the crowds at the barrier were huge. I have some video which I will post when I figure out how.
The Above video kind've goes like this: road, road, road, road, vague applause, bikebikebike, louder applause, car, car, road, Kate fumbling with the camera. I don't know why SBS hasn't hired me as their girl on the ground.
Post Tour - went home, got changed, met up with Wayne and crew in Brick Lane for some Indian food where hte service was appalling, even by London standards. My favourite part was where they tried to give us dirty plates because they'd picked up the wrong pile. Deligthful. But it was a pretty fun night. The cool bit about Brick Lane is that in order to walk there you have to walk past the scene of some of Jack the Ripper's crimes, and the pub where 'Lock Stock' was shot. Just so you know.
DANIEL JOHNSTON (12th July)
Went and saw Ganiel Johnston play at Union Chapel in Islington last night. It was amazing. It is a real, live church.
And he was amazing. He was childlike and breakable. All I wanted to do was give him a big hug. He covered the Beatles (Hide Your Love Away) and he said he was going to make a joke, but last time he told it he got in trouble with his brother, mother and father and that since he only had two jokes, we'd have to wait. He was cute and mischeivious in his black and blue tracksuit. He was also remarkably confident and engaging.
His arms shook quite badly, and he was constanyl leaning on the mic - but it still blew your mind. After playing the first couple of songs on guitar/piano by himself, the muscial accompaniment was lef tto others. Much more muscial that way. And Daniel (weird familiarity) was able to concentrate of singing. He did a few songs with Neva Dinova which was awesome. I have quite a lot of video of this and if I figure out how to upload it, you can all enjoy my attempts to film and clap at the same time.
My favourite part of the evening? When he did his last song and he called it 'a wish for all of us' and then sung 'True Love Will Find You In The End'. It was pretty darned amazing. Even an old cynic like me was overwhlemed. Unsurprisingly, he got a standing ovation. He is such a dude. He looked so happy with himself through out the whole gig. He also said it was one of the best gigs they'd done this tour.
Incidentally, Marianne was meant to accompany me to this but she got stuck at work drinks (and by stuck, I mean drunk) and didn't make it. She should have scalped her 20 pound ticket for 50 quid, which is what the people on the sidewalk were willing to pay. Would have been worth every pent.
Anyway, this weekend I am resolved to do touristy things.
PS. Post writing all of htis, I have uploaded some stuff to YouTube so the I've added some video. I will upload DJ tomorrow as it is now 1.30am and I am tired beyond belief.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Peace Train
Firstly - I am alive. Not that I wouldn't be, but I just want you to know that I definitely am.
For any of you who haven't been watching the news, there has been another terrorist 'incident' in London. Viable bombs were found in the West End and on Park Lane. Fortunately the police diffused the bombs and the only effect were some massive delays on the tube and station closures.
I can't say that I was scared, but it was an odd feeling getting on the tube this afternoon. The strange realisation that you were just there on a train and exceedingly vulnerable. It was all just so totally beyond my control. Yet apprehension quickly turned to aggravation and annoyance when I realised that I was going to have to wait 15 minutes for a train from Canary Wharf. And then because my Circle Line train was delayed.
But I can see that these 'bombs' fulfill their purpose. They undermine what you take for granted. They make you feel vulnerable where you live. For a moment. And then life goes on.
Went to the V&A Museum for the Late Night session - it was the opening of London Sing and was fabulous. There was a massive acapella choir who sung songs like 'Cry Me a River' (the JT version) and Music (Madonna). I went to musci workshops with an Indian singer and a Chinese opera singer. I sang into a tube and poured my voice out. it was so much fun - even though I can't sing to save my life. In choir in high school I used to have to sit next to louise Mcleod so I would have any chance of staying in tune. I also had to be a soprano, even though I'm really not, because they get the tune. Anything else was beyond me.
I think, however, my favourite part of the evening was when the giant, colourfully dressed choir stood in the foyer of the V&A and sung 'Let It Be'. Within moments there was a swell of voices echoing around the cavernous entry hall. Amazing.
I wish I was a Beatle. I wish I could have that kind of immortality. I wish wish that it went without saying that half a world could relate to something that I wrote on a whim.
It is 11 degrees in London and fairly disgusting. The country is literally flooding.
Also - Pete Doherty's name is not pronounced how I thought it was. He's also completely humourless. Don't take drugs kids. It makes you a boring asshole.
That's it.
As for the Drowsy Chaperone, I will save that for another day.
For any of you who haven't been watching the news, there has been another terrorist 'incident' in London. Viable bombs were found in the West End and on Park Lane. Fortunately the police diffused the bombs and the only effect were some massive delays on the tube and station closures.
I can't say that I was scared, but it was an odd feeling getting on the tube this afternoon. The strange realisation that you were just there on a train and exceedingly vulnerable. It was all just so totally beyond my control. Yet apprehension quickly turned to aggravation and annoyance when I realised that I was going to have to wait 15 minutes for a train from Canary Wharf. And then because my Circle Line train was delayed.
But I can see that these 'bombs' fulfill their purpose. They undermine what you take for granted. They make you feel vulnerable where you live. For a moment. And then life goes on.
Went to the V&A Museum for the Late Night session - it was the opening of London Sing and was fabulous. There was a massive acapella choir who sung songs like 'Cry Me a River' (the JT version) and Music (Madonna). I went to musci workshops with an Indian singer and a Chinese opera singer. I sang into a tube and poured my voice out. it was so much fun - even though I can't sing to save my life. In choir in high school I used to have to sit next to louise Mcleod so I would have any chance of staying in tune. I also had to be a soprano, even though I'm really not, because they get the tune. Anything else was beyond me.
I think, however, my favourite part of the evening was when the giant, colourfully dressed choir stood in the foyer of the V&A and sung 'Let It Be'. Within moments there was a swell of voices echoing around the cavernous entry hall. Amazing.
I wish I was a Beatle. I wish I could have that kind of immortality. I wish wish that it went without saying that half a world could relate to something that I wrote on a whim.
It is 11 degrees in London and fairly disgusting. The country is literally flooding.
Also - Pete Doherty's name is not pronounced how I thought it was. He's also completely humourless. Don't take drugs kids. It makes you a boring asshole.
That's it.
As for the Drowsy Chaperone, I will save that for another day.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Peas in a Pod
What do David Ritter and Tony Blair have in common?
Apart from their Labor Party membership cards, obviously.
Both made the Mr/Ms/Mrs/Miss/Other joke. David in Legal History and Tony (he's not PM anymore so it is okay to use his first name, I am sure) in the House of Commons today during his last PMQ. The House thought it was hilarious and no one tried to make him feel guilty for saying it.
But, perhaps it would have been churlish given that he is now officially unemployed.
This post will only make sense to about 2 people, so I a will post tomorrow about seeing 'The Drowsy Chaperone'. Keep you on the edge of your seats and all that.
Apart from their Labor Party membership cards, obviously.
Both made the Mr/Ms/Mrs/Miss/Other joke. David in Legal History and Tony (he's not PM anymore so it is okay to use his first name, I am sure) in the House of Commons today during his last PMQ. The House thought it was hilarious and no one tried to make him feel guilty for saying it.
But, perhaps it would have been churlish given that he is now officially unemployed.
This post will only make sense to about 2 people, so I a will post tomorrow about seeing 'The Drowsy Chaperone'. Keep you on the edge of your seats and all that.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Brush Up Your Shakespeare
Went to my school reunion for old girls in London on Tuesday night. An interesting experience which culminated in my drinking beers with Jenny Ethell (aka. the woman who 'restructured me out of existence' aka fired me) and Dot in an English pub. It was nice to catch up with Dot - she seems happy in the UK (while missing the Australian weather, but then, don't we all?)
The reunion was okay, the venue was really cute and, perhaps most importantly, I think I have acquired some useful coping skills for my 10 year reunion. It involves drinking more, stalking the food platters and hiding from Alethea, which is pretty much what I did this time around as well.
Friday night I went and saw 'Othello' at the Globe. We had 5 quid standing tickets and, of course, it rained. However, Marianne and I had got there early and were right in front of the stage which meant that we we slightly sheltered from the elements. Thankfully. However, the unfortunte by product of being so close to the action was that every time the actors came near me I thought I was going to get whacked in the head with the swords that were very loosely attached to their waists. I was ducking and weaving all night.
The play itself was awesome, and the role of Iago was played by Tim McInnery (of Blackadder fame - Percy, Capt Darling etc). It was weird to see him play the evil bad guy.
Now, I am not sure how many of you are familar with the ending of Othello, but in summary: Othello kills his wife who he believes to have been unfaithul, Iago murders his wife for dobbing him in about manipulating Othello's jealousy, and Othello kills himself out of guilt ('One that loved not wisely, but too well'). So - there are 3 characters lying dead on a bed in the middle of the stage (which I always thought was farcical, but now realise is for staging reasons).
So - after this very melodramatic final scene ('This heavy act with heavy heart relate') everyone is kind've drepressed. The acting was amazing, you really felt for Othello, the fake stage blood looked almost real. THEN the cast came back on stage and started DANCING!! Not in a sad mournful way, but in a very upbeat and perky way that was emotionally confusing.
Yesterday, I caught up with Amy Thornicroft, who we met when she was a Gap girl. We hung out at a cool Morroccan restuarant for a while and then spent some time on the South Bank. It was fanatastic to see her again and any time spent on the South Bank is time well spent if you ask me. Also - seeing a man with trained budgies who sang a song that went 'I'm the budgie man, bu-budgie man, budgie man, the bloody budgie man' and then tried to get employed as an entertainer at children's parties, was definitely a high point.
Saturday night we went to a restuarant near Tottenham Court Road where they kindly served us cocktails in jugs. THEN I went and picked up Carly at Paddington. This because my new rule states - if you can't make new English friends - import the old Australian ones! Incidentally - it seemed unfair that she looked quite as together as she did given the length of her flight and the fact she was suffering from the flu. I made her get on a night bus to get home (too much of apain to catch a cab on a Saturday night) and left her to sleep until 3pm this afternoon. I then dragged her around today to make sure she was properly equipped for London (Oyster card, A-Z, phone, flu medication) and as I write this she has fallen asleep again.
Such is the life of a new arrival in London.
The reunion was okay, the venue was really cute and, perhaps most importantly, I think I have acquired some useful coping skills for my 10 year reunion. It involves drinking more, stalking the food platters and hiding from Alethea, which is pretty much what I did this time around as well.
Friday night I went and saw 'Othello' at the Globe. We had 5 quid standing tickets and, of course, it rained. However, Marianne and I had got there early and were right in front of the stage which meant that we we slightly sheltered from the elements. Thankfully. However, the unfortunte by product of being so close to the action was that every time the actors came near me I thought I was going to get whacked in the head with the swords that were very loosely attached to their waists. I was ducking and weaving all night.
The play itself was awesome, and the role of Iago was played by Tim McInnery (of Blackadder fame - Percy, Capt Darling etc). It was weird to see him play the evil bad guy.
Now, I am not sure how many of you are familar with the ending of Othello, but in summary: Othello kills his wife who he believes to have been unfaithul, Iago murders his wife for dobbing him in about manipulating Othello's jealousy, and Othello kills himself out of guilt ('One that loved not wisely, but too well'). So - there are 3 characters lying dead on a bed in the middle of the stage (which I always thought was farcical, but now realise is for staging reasons).
So - after this very melodramatic final scene ('This heavy act with heavy heart relate') everyone is kind've drepressed. The acting was amazing, you really felt for Othello, the fake stage blood looked almost real. THEN the cast came back on stage and started DANCING!! Not in a sad mournful way, but in a very upbeat and perky way that was emotionally confusing.
Yesterday, I caught up with Amy Thornicroft, who we met when she was a Gap girl. We hung out at a cool Morroccan restuarant for a while and then spent some time on the South Bank. It was fanatastic to see her again and any time spent on the South Bank is time well spent if you ask me. Also - seeing a man with trained budgies who sang a song that went 'I'm the budgie man, bu-budgie man, budgie man, the bloody budgie man' and then tried to get employed as an entertainer at children's parties, was definitely a high point.
Saturday night we went to a restuarant near Tottenham Court Road where they kindly served us cocktails in jugs. THEN I went and picked up Carly at Paddington. This because my new rule states - if you can't make new English friends - import the old Australian ones! Incidentally - it seemed unfair that she looked quite as together as she did given the length of her flight and the fact she was suffering from the flu. I made her get on a night bus to get home (too much of apain to catch a cab on a Saturday night) and left her to sleep until 3pm this afternoon. I then dragged her around today to make sure she was properly equipped for London (Oyster card, A-Z, phone, flu medication) and as I write this she has fallen asleep again.
Such is the life of a new arrival in London.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
A record store, a humble hole in the wall, could you ever want for more?
Man, if possible, I had forgotten how much I loved record/CD stores. I haven't been inside a proper one since I left home and today I finally had time to go and check out the Rough Trade store near Portabello Road. STACKS of vinyl. Hundreds of 7" records, not too many CDs. And the constant vibe of being judged by everyone else in there - sale staff, customers, the guy who drops off the free papers.
I love the posters that have been up so long that they are beginning to peel off the walls, but somehow this makes the whole thing look more 'authentic'. Rough Trade is similar in vibe to downstairs Dada's - although not downstairs and possibly even more crowded. The staff have to bend underneath the sales bench to get out and look for anything. I managed to pull several CD's to the floor while trying to rescue the one I had dislodged. Eck.
And another thing - 7" cost about 2-2.50 pound. So damned cheap! Even with conversion that is about half the price that I pay at home. I barely managed to restrain myself. I settled for The Shins 'Australia' and Stars 'Your Ex-Lover Is Dead'. Because I had just bought new cons I couldn't quite justify the 5 pound for a Daniel Johnson single (and I thought I would try and pick up something of his when I see him later this month). I swear to God, the stuff in this store seems so extensive compared to Dada's (in 7" any way) that I was about to start selling body parts to indulge. It has also inspired me to go and seek other record stores. I'll let you knwo how that goes.
Went to 'Fifteen' for Alana's birthday lunch yesterday, which was just lovely. Really excellent food (as it was alst time) but at 50 pound a head, you wouldn't want to do this too often.
So I also bought new Cons. This is a picture of them:
It's nice to be back in cons again. I had been missing them since I left home. I wasn't quite sure what other shoes I should be wearing with jeans. And these shoes are pretty much my perfect fashion accessory. Especially given the fact that, despite being made in China (probably by child labour) they have Bono's endorsement because money goes to preventing malaria/typhoid/AIDS in Africa. See - Bono really cares about the African community.
Those little Chinese children can go f**k themselves.
I think I may still be on the wrong side of the ethical line with this purchase. I hate it when that happens. However, I still am still going to rant about the ethical incongruity here. Hypocrite, much? Shouldn't Bono and his ilk only be endorsing products that don't have a history of violating fair labour practices? Nike has long been accused of employing sweatshop labour so I don't know how they can justify partnering with them to produce thsi 'charitable' product.
Yet, again, I stil bought the damned shoes.
Moving on before I start getting really self-loathing for my ethical inconsistency (Bono and I could have a club).
For those of you who love High Fidelity and are in the need of a bit of a giggle, check this out. This is a link to one of the key songs in the new stage muscial version. The song is called 'The Last Real Record Store'. It all sounds so familiar, but is still so wrong.
http://www.allmusicals.com/lyrics/highfidelity/thelastrealrecordstore.htm
I don't think that Rob, Dick or Barry would have been huge fans of musical theatre.
And after seeing some of these lyrics and imagining the accompanying dance spectacular, I am not so sure I am either.
I love the posters that have been up so long that they are beginning to peel off the walls, but somehow this makes the whole thing look more 'authentic'. Rough Trade is similar in vibe to downstairs Dada's - although not downstairs and possibly even more crowded. The staff have to bend underneath the sales bench to get out and look for anything. I managed to pull several CD's to the floor while trying to rescue the one I had dislodged. Eck.
And another thing - 7" cost about 2-2.50 pound. So damned cheap! Even with conversion that is about half the price that I pay at home. I barely managed to restrain myself. I settled for The Shins 'Australia' and Stars 'Your Ex-Lover Is Dead'. Because I had just bought new cons I couldn't quite justify the 5 pound for a Daniel Johnson single (and I thought I would try and pick up something of his when I see him later this month). I swear to God, the stuff in this store seems so extensive compared to Dada's (in 7" any way) that I was about to start selling body parts to indulge. It has also inspired me to go and seek other record stores. I'll let you knwo how that goes.
Went to 'Fifteen' for Alana's birthday lunch yesterday, which was just lovely. Really excellent food (as it was alst time) but at 50 pound a head, you wouldn't want to do this too often.
So I also bought new Cons. This is a picture of them:
It's nice to be back in cons again. I had been missing them since I left home. I wasn't quite sure what other shoes I should be wearing with jeans. And these shoes are pretty much my perfect fashion accessory. Especially given the fact that, despite being made in China (probably by child labour) they have Bono's endorsement because money goes to preventing malaria/typhoid/AIDS in Africa. See - Bono really cares about the African community.
Those little Chinese children can go f**k themselves.
I think I may still be on the wrong side of the ethical line with this purchase. I hate it when that happens. However, I still am still going to rant about the ethical incongruity here. Hypocrite, much? Shouldn't Bono and his ilk only be endorsing products that don't have a history of violating fair labour practices? Nike has long been accused of employing sweatshop labour so I don't know how they can justify partnering with them to produce thsi 'charitable' product.
Yet, again, I stil bought the damned shoes.
Moving on before I start getting really self-loathing for my ethical inconsistency (Bono and I could have a club).
For those of you who love High Fidelity and are in the need of a bit of a giggle, check this out. This is a link to one of the key songs in the new stage muscial version. The song is called 'The Last Real Record Store'. It all sounds so familiar, but is still so wrong.
http://www.allmusicals.com/lyrics/highfidelity/thelastrealrecordstore.htm
I don't think that Rob, Dick or Barry would have been huge fans of musical theatre.
And after seeing some of these lyrics and imagining the accompanying dance spectacular, I am not so sure I am either.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
