Uptight & Personal Diary Entry to Oct 18th

18 10 2009

Saturday 10th

We set off for Bury St. Edmunds on shopping expedition. Go via op shop superstore. Many delicious bargains to be had which as it turns out is just the entrée to bargain heaven as we ricochet from op shop to op shop in Bury, staggering under weight of purchases (well, at least I am – mostly books).

Aurore had no idea there was an aviary in the abbey grounds so we head there on what is probably going to turn out to be if not the last then the penultimate, fine Saturday of the year.

When Matt and I last went to Bury we ensconced ourselves in the Nutshell which is the smallest pub in the UK accommodating about eight persons at its maximum capacity. We refer to it as the ‘9.2 pub’ which has nothing to do with the number of patrons that can be jammed in there at any one time but the fact that while we were there one of the regulars was entertaining us all with a story concerning a local young lady free with her favours who had asked her partner for the night how he rated her oral capabilities to which he apparently responded: ‘I’ll give it a 9.2’. So, the 9.2 pub it is. However, today it is jammed to the nines with two people waiting outside in order to gain admittance. No 9.2 for us.

That night we hit upon grand money making scheme – better even than the last one which was Bras for Pets and the Pugkini. This time – Hollywood Gnomes. Yes – garden gnomes of all your favourite Hollywood characters. Who could resist the Jack Sparrow gnome? How about a complete crew of Star Trek gnomes or even The Gnomeinator? As this train of thought was inspired by a photograph of solar-powered see-sawing gnomes in a catalogue, I also suggest the Christian Bale solar-powered potty-mouth gnome who tells people to **** off! whenever anyone walks up the garden path. Of course, some stars lend themselves to be turned into gnomes more readily than others – Jack Black is already more than halfway there. Aurore suggests we do Brangelina gnomes with seven dwarf rainbow family gnomes – or do they only have six kids? So hard to keep up with those two and besides, by the time I post this they could have acquired more. Of course, you could do Lost gnomes who send their owners photographs of themselves from remote parts of the world – provided the Other gnomes will let them, that is. Soon we are convulsed with laughter and our own genius which knows gnome boundary.  But the really scary part is we’re stone cold sober.

Sunday 11th

Decide to make aloo gobi. Heat oil in pan on stove when suddenly solve a plot point I had been wrestling with in my current scripting project. So excited, I abandon stove to head for computer to email writing partner with solution. Then think of PS to add to original email. Then PPS. Suddenly house is filled with reeking smoke from abandoned pan. Writing and domesticity do not mix. Need nice male caring useful shaggable type person to take over these tasks when I lose track of reality and get carried away by train of thought. Gnomeo to my Juliet (c’mon, you knew that was coming, right?).

Tuesday 13th

Matt sends John Cusack gnome to add to list. Bound to be popular with 2012 movie coming out although my favourite Cusack movie has to be Grosse Point Blank with Being John Malkovich as a close second.


Email Matt that I’m bored. He replies so is he. Get up and go to loo to pass five minutes of time. When I get back into office Matt leaps out from behind spare desk where he’s been hiding with a ‘Boo!’ Give wall ripping shriek reaction and almost expire from seizure. Jesse hears wall-ripping shriek and comes running to find me attempting to throttle Matt. Good thing management has left for the day. Too much fun against company policy.

Wednesday 14th

Jesse and I head to London to set up book launches for two authors. First stop The Gate in Hammersmith located just around the corner from my old flat in Beryl Road as a possible venue to launch Adam Shaw’s upcoming book ‘So your girlfriend’s a vegetarian?’ Lovely airy loft space with stunning bonsai tree. Decide would like to live in it but it’s probably not quite right for the book launch. They do however give Jesse a copy of their recipe book.

Onto Tibits in Heddon Street. Very funky. Manager charm itself plus offers us lunch. Food is delicious and their cheesecake has to be the best I have ever tasted. Pure ambrosia. Strong contender and so far we are a book and lunch up on the day. Plenty of time between finishing lunch and our next appointment at French’s theatrical bookstore so we adjourn to a pub. Text Matt we are in pub. Then text Matt again we are on the second round just to emphasise the fact we are in pub and he is at work.

Jesse very funny. After French’s and on the way to Daunt’s in Marylebone High Street I find myself smitten by a display of handbags in a shop window. ‘So, do you like bags?’ asks Jesse, mystified. And this from a married man.

Last stop is Saf’s restaurant in Shoreditch. They offer us apple juice. Saf’s also strong contender for launch. They have lovely patio and greenhouse where they grow the herbs for their food and cocktails.

Day has netted a book, lunch and apple juice. Not too bad really.

Thursday 15th

Matt complains that texting him on a round-by-round basis from pub cruel and unusual.

My author Professor Wadhams front page of BBC website today as well as The Guardian and on radio with his report on global warming and how the Arctic ice cap will probably be gone in 10 years’ time. Very pleased to have prominent and famous author. Less pleased about news of ice cap however. What will happen to the polar bears? Find this distressing.

My friend Colin emails me he has dream gig on Winter Olympics and is moving back to Vancouver for duration. Start planning trip to Vancouver especially as in addition to the TV series have been tinkering with screenplay set in Vancouver and the Queen Charlottes. Take this as sign. Then decide to make up to Matt for texting him from pub yesterday and email inviting him to accompany me. No response. Clearly, this falls under communications with a higher than PG-13 rating. Also, asked him for drink yesterday evening to compensate for pub texting and he said he was too tired. Both invitations rebuffed so clearly need no longer feel guilty. Besides, if a man can’t get his backside into gear to meet you in his local he is hardly likely to be motivated to fly 8,000 miles – much less get as far as the airport.

Situation at work a lot better. However, home life now disrupted as Aurore moving out to live in Harry Potter type cupboard in Cambridge. Now have to find new roommate. Am already calculating how many jockeys or even psychologically abused boy-wizards I can fit into the airing cupboard – let alone the room.

Friday 16th

I email Matt that I’m bored. This seems to happen a lot. It’s nothing to do with the volume of work but its quality and ability to keep me entertained. He sends me a picture of a cow eating some snails. This guy is the master. When it comes to women he really knows what he’s doing. Other men waste their time with flowers, champagne, chocolates, promises they don’t intend to keep – but this guy goes straight for the sweet spot. All you men out there take note. Cows and snails. Works every time.

cow eating some snails

However, still dealing with the fact that pom men in general seem to behave like girls and the women behave like blokes. Any kind of social situation seems to result in getting hit on by women and not by men. What is more, the women say things to you that would get the average bloke’s face well and truly slapped. Ponder long and hard about long-term sociological and gender implications of chicks turning into the sexual aggressors. Find myself pining for a gentler age where the rules of interaction between the sexes were more defined like in Jane Austen’s time. I was never keen on the taciturn and uptight Darcy, or a slow-on-the-uptake Edmund, but a Colonel Brandon or Captain Wentworth would go down nicely right now.




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