- The Retro Bar bash on Thursday night was excellent; Wendy and DJ Lush ("my New Zealand bridesmaid" as I've affectionately termed her) celebrating their fifth anniversary at the helm of said drinking establishment and its predecessors. I spent half an hour soaking up the ambience before David and Ian arrived, shortly before we adjourned to the more comfortable surrounds of the upstairs bar. Iain, Scally and Rick - thankfully intact after the perilous ice-skating mission - found us there soon after. As did Darren. And the drinking did then commence ladies and gentlemen! I'm sure Jonathan and Mark found us in quite a state by the time he arrived (nothing you're not used to, right guys?). I do love these do's that pop-up every now and then on The Retro Bar's calendar, I do, I do: they have the feeling of being at one big party where you don't know too many people but you don't feel like a complete tool for not doing so. Translated: this is a good thing. Merry capers later ensued when Iain, David and myself attempted to get home - Waterloo really is a lovely scenic side-trip on the way to north London ... honest!
- Tom and I decided to get all intellectual on Friday night and pay a visit to Mr Rushkoff's gathering at the Global Café. The gamine author dutifully held court to the assorted masses and was an interesting chap to listen to: I've followed his writings on-and-off for several years now so it was fun to finally put a personality to the words. His next missive - Judaism's move from an open to closed-source model and that it should be the first religion to voluntarily retire itself - sounds intriguing as well. Tom was a good boy and asked probing questions, placed as they were between those of the token Marxist, the token stoner and the token anti-globalisation activist. The 'bag and I even hung around afterwards and discussed narrative and hero myths and Greek tragedies and Freud and ev'ry-ma-thing. Stimulating!
- Last night's dinner with Anna and Richard turned into a right comedy of errors. "Let's go to a show!", Anna had said that afternoon. "There's literally nothing left", she later informed us. "Let's go to Busaba!", I suggested. The line was monstrous by the time we arrived, so off to Satsuma it was. "Let's go to Amelié instead!", I said, perusing the current poor film listings in Time Out. It was sold out. "Right, fuck it, we're going to play videogames", I decided, so off we trouped to the Trocadero and addled ourselves for a few hours with flashes and beeps and DVD purchases. That's called making the most of concurrent annoying situations, kids.
- Prior to those shenanigans, Michelle and I had taken a tour of the Globe which was quite fascinating: our guide, while delivering his spiel to the group as we were seated in the theatre saw fit to deliver Romeo's "But soft ..." lines directly to me. I'll never sit in a front row again. The underground exhibition adjacent to the theatre was also of note, chronicling Sam Wannamaker's long fight to have the thing build, along with the requisite history, costume and language displays. The sumptuous fabric stage hangings - a gift from the Bard's devotees in New Zealand - were also impressive.
- Saturday also marked the occasion of my two-year-blog-iversary [where it all began]. Thanks for reading folks!
- Dad was the bearer of bad news today, unfortunate bugger. I broke this to Michelle late this evening (she was out with friends for most of the day) and naturally she was upset. As was I. Life's random turnings can be a right bastard at times.
‹ 21.1.02 / 0 comment(s) ›
Comments
Feel free to leave a few words about this post. Pithy, on-point comments will earn you 100 frequent surfer miles and a place in the afterlife ...