Fulfilling East Londoner cliché #12

To celebrate the end of term and a colleague leaving (yes, we're all jumping ship at the moment) we had lunch bought for us all by the bosses. I'm sure right now you're imagining a posh restaurant, or maybe a trendy organic gastropub in Hoxton. No, we stayed in our office, sat in the Conference Room and woofed down Pie and Mash with lots of liquor. For those of you who don't know what liquor is its a green sauce. I think its parsley sauce with lots of vinegar and pepper, though I may be wrong. This was accompanied by either red or white wine, and Magic FM on the radio.

Can you get a more classy and exclusive lunch? Obviously the answer is yes.

Still, I do like a bit of pie and mash, being the clichéd East Londoner that I am although I draw the line atjelliedd eels. Ever since I got stupidly drunk at my nan's 90th birthday party had ate about a hundred of the things I just can't face them.

An empty plate, once heaving with pie and mash

Did find out that Andy has never had liquor before which really surprised me being the good Eastender that he is. It comes from having a Northern mother apparently. Still, his father's genes won out as he loved theliquorr.

No I'm off down the pub, in my Pearly King suite, doing the Lambeth Walk, OI!

Yes, I had nothing to write about today. My life can't always be really interesting. Or just plain not boring.

Sigh...anyone want a cup of tea?

Man I'm bored. It's sooo quiet at work at the moment. We've got stuff to do but lots and lots of time to do it in. Unfortunately I'm very much someone who can't motivate myself unless there's a degree of pressure and panic. Otherwise I just procrastinate. Thank God one day I'll die otherwise I think I would spend eternity looking out of the window coming up with excuses to put things off. The photo shows the hive of activity that is our office at the moment.

It doesn't help that there's an end of term/summer holiday atmosphere in the office. Everyone seems to be that bit more slower. The big problem is that usually with my job I'm out and about at meetings, or going to schools, or training volunteers. The day gets broken up a bit and time goes a bit faster. At the moment I just write reports all day staring at a computer screen. Course it has allowed me to fiddle with my blog a bit so I guess that's something.

I suppose I could do some more planning for Canada...nah, got ages yet to sort all that out. Haven't I?

Throw enough darts

Little bit of excitement in an otherwise extremely dull day, Andy got a 180 when we were playing darts at lunch time. We all made so much noise that the bar man came through into the lounge bar where we were to see what all the fuss was about. He seemed pleased for us. Checkout (geddit? Unless you play darts probably not) Andy's blog for a no doubt extensive and detailed account. The photo shows the the historic score.

Of course I'm not jealous.

Really I'm pleased for him.

Right, I'm off to practice.

Hannah

Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah.

She wanted a mention on the blog...

You have found the DRAGON FLY

Though I don't pretend to be on the level of Lewis I do enjoy playing the odd 'electronic computer game' to while away the time between birth and death. As games become ever more sophisticated with realistic (to a degree) depictions of real life you can find yourself noticing how bits of reality remind you of computer games. I've sometimes caught myself thinking that something in the real world will be like a computer game. For example, walking along and seeing a car parked on its own in a slightly random place, if I've played lots of GTA then slightly worryingly I often think 'Huh, must be a secret mission car'. I remember a guy called Pacey from school remarking as we walked down a corridor with a flickering light that he half expected a secret room to be here, as in Doom they are marked by flickering lights.

Recently I saw the broach below. I didn't think 'Ergh, what an ugly, gaudy thing' but instead thought 'Mmm, looks like a typically stylised key for one of the mansions in a Resident Evil game'.

Remove its wings and its a key obviously

Anyone else experienced something similar? Like when you come out of the cinema after a really good film and the real world seems slightly odd after immersing yourself in the reality of the film. Or is it just me with this shaky grasp on reality?

Miss him...miss them all

Over the last few days I've been thinking a lot about my old house in Leytonstone when I lived with Jason, Lewis and Simon, mainly because I've either spoken to them or organised to see them recently. We had some great times in that slightly ramshackle (more than slightly if I'm being honest) old house in Lytton Road.

We moved there in April 2003 and finally all moved out March 2005. It had been the plan of Lewis and me to move in together ever since he found out his flatmate wanted to move on to pastures new and I had managed to get, well, a job. Jason joined us when he returned from his 4 month life changing trip to Australia. Neither wanted to live with their parents again and I was keen to stop living with mine. Not because we all hated our parents, just that we felt...to old to live with them (of course two years later and I'm back living with them, not sure what that means).

Lewis and Jason I knew from university. After quite some time of looking we found what was to become our home. Decent sized rooms...big kitchen and lounge...a garden...and table football. How could we not move in there? The only problem was that it was a 4 bedroom house and there were only 3 of us. One advert later we got the 'loveable rogue' that is Simon Miller.

After accidentally not turning us down (he had seen two houses, ours and another, he decided to move in the other house but mistakenly phoned them and turned them down forcing him to move in with us - could you really get a more ridiculous sitcom plot?) he joined us and we had a fantastic year and a half together. My most fond memories are not of crazy nights out or parties or things like that, but just sitting in the lounge eating dinner and watching Sky together, or having a beer and playing table football. In fact if I get arthritis in the wrist it will because of table football...no other reason you understand, just the table football...yes. Grrrrreat days.

Simon in our living room on top of a load of cushions. They said it couldn't be done. He proved them wrong.

We've gone our different ways now. Lew left this time last year to be a Teaching Assistant in Japan. His replacement was...not great and forced the rest of us to take stock and think about moving on. Simon had met a lovely Australian girl and decided to go with her out there and Jason braved the German language by settling in Berlin with his young(ish) lady friend. This left me to move back home and save up enough also to flee the country. Hopefully I'll be out before they find the body.

Jason with his amazingly thick, glossy, flowing hair. It was like a lion's mane really, and it suited his 6 foot 5 muscular physic perfectly.

I read an entry on Richard Herring's blog (see here) in which he reminisced about what it was like when he first left university and when he moved to London with some friends afterwards. His point was that he spent a lot of that time pining for university, yet now he looks back and realises how happy he was in London. I feel very much the same way. I certainly wouldn't want to say they were the happiest days of my life (otherwise its all down hill) but I'm sure they will rank in the top 5 when I'm 125 and dribbling, thinking back over my life. I miss the buggers as well.

Lewis. He drunk approx. 2,006,032 cups of tea at Lytton Road. He was trying to cut down.

Stephen's a girl

If you have read previous entries of mine you would of come across one about my good friend Stephen Bolton. A lovely man, but he has a tendency to find himself in bizarre and embarrassing situations. Over the years these have built up into a rich tapestry of incidents, making every subsequent one even funnier.

Last night I went to the cinema with Steve to see Brit Horror 'Descent' (not bad, had some really good moments). The nearest cinema showing Descent was at the Newham Showcase and a drive away. Unable to drive myself Steve kindly offered to pick me up and drop me off.

Returning home my mum asked who had picked me up earlier. I replied Steve. My mum then said that my brother had looked out of the window, seen Steve and been insistent that it was a girl/woman who had picked me up. My mum had tried to say that it was Steve who I was going to the cinema with but he refused to budge, saying he was sure it was a girl.

Steve was wearing short shorts...but not that short. And he's all man. In a manner of speaking. The photo is of Steve being all man with a very manly pink and blue drink at the cinema.

More London

Two weeks later, and another round of bombings. Worrying yet familiar. People seem to be less panicking more shrugging shoulders and saying 'Oh not again'. Suppose it helps that the 'terrorists' cocked it up completely and were unable to cause explosives to explode. Less Osma Bin Laden, more the 'Comedy Terrorist' who dressed up in a sheet and gate crashed Prince William's birthday party. In fact, have the police arrested that fella yet just in case?

Apologies for making light of this situation. Of course its awful and dangerous and frightening and everything else, but how else can we react? Cry? Not go on the tube anymore? Best just take the piss and be done with it. And hope that things get better, doing what we can to make it better.

Graduation

Despite my help with his dissertation my brother managed to graduate from University yesterday from Portsmouth with a 2.2 in Politics. Anyone who says we are similar has obviously forgotten that I graduated with a 2.2 in Politics from SOUTHAMPTON. Completely different.

It was a nice day and it was good to see him in his robes looking like an extra from the new Harry Potter film. I would like to say it brought back lots of great memories from my own graduation, though for some reason I remember very little of the day. My brother's ceremony seemed to last for a long, long time but according to my Mum mine was of a similar length. Guess when you're waiting to go up time flies by, that or I've forgotten how bored I got.

What really struck me about the day was just how many students there are now. Hundreds graduated that morning, and there was another ceremony that afternoon, and two a day until Saturday. This was happening in the hundred or so universities across the country. I'm not sure whether to see this as a good or bad thing. Is university devalued by so many going to it? Or is it great that so many now have the opportunity? I tend to go with the later, though watched around 50 people graduate with a degree in 'Film Studies' I do wonder sometimes.

11 weeks to go

I realised yesterday that by today Andy and myself would have just 11 weeks until we go to Canada. 11 weeks! Gah! After a long period where it almost became something we just said ("Yeah I'm living with my parents but its just temporary, I'm going to Canada" or "God works getting me down, still not to worry I'm going to Canada") the trip is actually in sight. Things have started to pop up at work which we won't be here for. I heard about a Ben Folds gig that I was considering getting tickets for until I realised I'll be half way round the world when it happens.

We've been meaning to sort out our flights for the last month, then when the 11 week thing dawned on us yesterday and we had a mini panic. Problem is that we are usually busy at the weekends and there are few evenings where we are both free. I blame Andy's gym membership and my own drinking. All being well though we'll sort that out tomorrow. Then its just a case of working out where to live, getting a job and sorting insurance. OH GOD.

Incidentally yesterday I had a meeting with a couple of the teachers from one of the schools I work with. Have worked with these ladies for the previous year so they know me pretty and well and have met Andy before. I explained that we would be leaving our jobs in September and moving to Canada for a year. There was an awkward pause until I said 'We're not a couple' and as one they both breathed a sigh of relief and laughed, one of them saying 'I was just thinking that'.

As I said to Andy the amount of people who seem to think this about us maybe it would be easier just to be in a couple. The only problem I have with the gay lifestyle is all that clubbing. Just haven't got the energy.

Return of 115

Curses! Andy once again thrashed me (and my brother as well this time) in a thrilling game of lunch time darts. Ahead all the way through before Andy matches his previous checkout score of 115. Where's the justice?

Sure you can read all about it on his damn blog. If you really want to waste your eye time looking at it. Tch.

London

I wasn't sure whether to write anything on my blog about Thursday. This blog had always been a bit of a laugh, something to muck around with, but I'm a Londoner, for better or worse. Indeed on Tuesday I was writing an entry, which I didn't get round to finishing, about the supposed arrogance of Londoners. Instead I'm now writing an entry about an attack on London. Still seems strange to type that, but that's what it was.

To set the scene. I was at home due to a bout of food poisoning or something. I had taken the previous day off as well and had watched the Olympic announcement. I surprised myself at just how excited and pleased I was that we had won it, guess working in Stratford with banners every where saying 'Back the Bid' must of had an impact.

Anyway, I had got up for work before deciding I still wasn't well enough to go in, so I had phoned them, asked them to email me over a few bits and bobs I could do at home. While I waited for them to be sent over I switched on the TV and started to play a game of Rise of Nations on my brother's laptop. Honestly I was going to play just for an hour then start some work. Really! So there I was, playing away until I suddenly noticed a strange silence on the TV. I wasn't watching it, I had only put it on for back ground noise as I was on my own in the house. Glancing up the BBC had cut to a newsflash. Across the screen in large white letters on a red banner read the words 'LONDON BLASTS'.

For a second I tried to make sense of words. I couldn't understand what they meant, then a horrible and strange feeling developed in my stomach. I immediately turned the volume up fully expecting the news report not to be what the head line suggested. It just couldn't be that, that only happened on scare-mongering BBC docu-dramas.

But it was happening. At first it was very confusing as to what was happening and actually suggested that things were worse than they were. There was talk of 7 explosions on the underground and a 3 bus explosions. My first thought, bizarrely, was not of loved ones or friends, it was work. We were supposed to be taking some students up to a law firm in Liverpool Street that day. I phoned Andy to tell him he better cancel and I tried to explain what was happening. He already knew, in fact the school had told him. It was only after I put the phone down my stomach did another lurch as I thought of all the people that I know and love that work in the city. I knew my brother was safe as he was was with Andy. I phoned my mum who works in Islington to check on her and she was fine. In fact she still thought that all the fuss was to do with power surges still. I then phoned/texted a few friends who I thought may be in some danger. Those I spoke to had already heard from others and slowly I managed to work out that everyone I knew seem to be safe.

I felt strangely guilty that I was pleased that no one I knew was hurt, conscious that there would be many I didn't know who were hurt or dead. Just a normal human reaction I guess.

I spent the rest of the day watching the news, taking phonecalls from friends who wanted to know what the hell was going on. All sorts of rumours were flying around it seemed. My friend Scott had heard two terrorists had been shot by Canary Wharf, Andy had heard that there was a suspect package at Stratford. With the failure of the mobile network and a internet that was straining under the weight of so many people using it at the same time I guess rumours develop to fill the gap. I remember on September 11th people were saying that planes had gone missing in France and were heading for London, and that planes had crashed into other US landmarks.

It was a surreal and frightening day. But more than anything else I was angry. I just kept thinking 'Why?' and 'How dare they!' I thought Ken Livingstone gave a fantastic speech when he heard and summed up very much what I was thinking.

The next day I was well enough to go in and so I did. London was more or less back on its feet. People were nervous, the tubes slightly quieter but there was a real sense of 'Lets get on with it'. I have faith in my city and its people that we won't turn on each other, we won't blame ordinary men and women who follow a faith that these criminals may say they follow. Those who did this will hopefully be caught, thrown in prison and made to spend the rest of their lives watching a world get over their crimes and eventually forget them.

We are many they are few. They will fail just as many others of the ilk have failed before because the ideas of tolerance and freedom, the things they want to destroy, are more powerful than the terrorists will ever be.