Month: August 2002

A ridiculously alcoholic Monday in the company of Arron, Paul F, Nikki and Kristian with a late showing by Guy. Standing in the car park with a beer looking for the Perseids was definitely worthwhile – I saw one shooting star then, and another on the way home.

I like the idea of a perfect newspaper. Mine would have the sports section from the Telegraph, although with CMJ poached back from the Times, the Indy news and review sections, a hybrid of Grauniad and Indy arts coverage, restaurant reviews from the FT and Sunday Business (or whatever it is called now), and Matt, the pocket cartoonist from the Telegraph.

Space elevators – apparently likely by the end of the decade, or possibly by the end of my lifetime, depending who you believe.

This is by far the most addictive of my current regular online reading sites.

Beer last night with the lovely Andi, David (both over from the US – great to see them), Bora, Paul F, Aris and Joel, with sightings of Terry, Ruth, Hamish, Dave W, Tim, Ted, Bec, Chris and numerous others. There was a band playing in W2, who started out doing covers (Oasis, Beatles, etc) and not particularly well. Then they switched into a more freeform jazz style, clearly heavily influenced by The Cinematic Orchestra, which was much much better. They are going to be playing at The Rox next week, a local free concert that promises to be really dreadful, so I’m avoiding it like the plague (besides which, I’m working all next weekend).
I also picked up a Chichester Film Festival programme – more on that later.

Happy birthday to girlfriend-from-long-ago Kate.
We started seeing each other only a short while before her 25th birthday, so I was faced with the problem of trying to find a suitably amusing and quirky gift (if you knew Kate, you’d understand that any gift must be truly individual) when I still really didn’t know her that well. I spent ages wandering around shops trying to find a suitable gift, anything that would be more original than chocolate or flowers.
I bought her a flying toilet on a spring. It was perfect.

Some of the regular readers will be wondering how I am feeling this weekend. For those not in the know, Kev and Andrea got married yesterday. If this means nothing to you, you can either read the January 2001 archives (pull down the "yesterblog" menu in the navbar on the right) or skip on to the next post.
Well, how do I feel? To be honest, it’s kind of hard to put into words. In a way, it was strange to not be at the wedding – Kev and I had at one point agreed to be each other’s Best Man if ever we were to find victims to marry, and many of my oldest friends from school and since will have been there. But equally, it would have been far more strange if I had gone – I would have felt intensely uncomfortable and out of place. It’s not that I feel anything for Andrea these days (rather the reverse in fact – I really have quite a low opinion of her) – it’s a long time in the past, and there are other people that have come and gone since then and left an impression on me (most notably Marianne).
I’m far more concerned with the present and the future. I have no idea what opportunities and challenges, of all varieties, lie around the corner. And the past is the past, and can not be changed. But equally I don’t think I will ever really find it in myself to forgive or forget what happened. It isn’t so much a case of bearing a grudge – it’s more that it was something painful that happened, and I’d like to put as much distance between me and those events as I possibly can. And it was a series of events which shook and hurt me in a way I had never experienced before and hope I’ll never experience again.
So, for those who are concerned: I’m fine, thanks – I’ve got great friends, I have plenty to look forward to, and the future looks bright.

A chilled day spent with Bren and Greg, featuring a poke about the Chilli Fiesta at West Dean, coffee in Café Rouge (screaming kids! arg!) and food in Sadlers.

How true.

Excellent food last night prepared by Lady Bren’s fair hand in the company of Greg, Paul R and Wendy. Exactly what the doctor ordered.