Friday, May 14, 2010

Friday 14 May 2010

Fatigue and optimism greets the last day of a long week.  I bring these things on myself but I will always try to absolve myself of/from responsibility.

As I leave the apartment the bin bag is still out.  I always knew it would be but that doesn’t prevent it from being depressing and disappointing.

The drive to the station is a breeze and even weirder to consider that I was only here six and a half hours ago.

Entering the station I spot my cousin Sean.  Rather than ignore him (as is my impulse) I wave but in earnest I have to admit that this takes a lot of effort.  I look so scruffy in comparison to him.  I wonder where we rank against each other in the big race.  Certainly he looks more the part than me but I’m not doing so bad for a slacker.

I lose my seat on the train as I find myself last to board the carriage after shivering on the platform for too long.  Later things fail to improve when at Chelmsford a Ginger lesbian squeezes into the seat next to me and plate crowds.  Where are those people from the M.I.A. video when you need them?

Fortunately before I realise it we reach London and as I head towards the tube once again there is already a train waiting to drag me across town.  As I sit zoning out I notice a tall Eastern European lovely with blonde hair and roots coming through.  The blemish fails to take away from her looks, indeed if anything it adds to them.

Eventually I get to work where people are already in and active.  I however feel exhausted, I have just been pushing it too hard this week and now it appears to be finally catching up on me.  Hopefully I’ll be able to turn the corner this weekend.

Briefly I potter before the Filipino comes in who upon arrival tells me that her little girl’s hamster Adam escaped from its cage last night (she left the door open).  For me a lost pet rates up there with one of my biggest fears in life and truly it touches a nerve with me.

On Radio One today Chris Moyles scores rare points by playing “Love Rears Its Ugly Head” by Living Colour.  Who would have ever thought he would have heard this song?  Assisted by my current mindset it sounds great, they were a band I put a surprising amount of stock in.

From here I basically jizz my day away.  Again today I was expecting to come into an email from the consultant with adjustments as promised but again it just still doesn’t come.  What a surprise.  Unfortunately I work the mentality of best let sleeping dogs lie even if it seriously cuts into our productivity.  This is to my detriment, I am my own worst enemy sometimes and this is the mentality that has perhaps seen me fail to progress very far with my career.

As a result of all this buggering about I never really get going on the day.  Early on I remember that Bret Easton Ellis at the Southbank was announced yesterday as part of the London Literature Festival.  Annoyingly though the tickets are currently on sale to members only.  Eventually this prompts me to take the leap and become a member of the Southbank Centre.  Mug.

Feeling in a good mood today I decide to chance my arm and attempt to blag tickets for Latitude asking my friend from Harlesden.  This does feel like quite the long shot now as I seldom see Nichola these days (years) and when I saw her at ATP in December it was probably the first time since Latitude 2008 I saw her.

This morning at some The Girl scarily begins telling me about this movie she saw on TV the other night.  She describes it in almost exactly the same way that my old man said on Tuesday and indeed again it turns out here is another person to have seen The Wicker Man remake without even realising that there was an original.  What is going on?

Towards the end of the morning my boss forwards me an email regarding the auditors plans for coming in to perform their audit.  With this announcement I take the opportunity to book two blocks of a weeks holiday for the end of July and end of August.  By this point the time is 11.40AM and the morning has been a blur.

For lunch today I want a cheeseburger and happily the kitchen sorts me out for one although I do not feel the love has been put into the patty.

Heading into the afternoon my week finally catches up with me as it consumes me.  To just keep my eyes open is causing them to water.  This is very pathetic.

The final three hours of the week take the form of dog years.  At regular intervals I try to finish off my work on the new company schedules.  To be honest though it is hard to feel guilty for not pulling my weight when the journals from the consultant are not forthcoming.

Not before time 5PM arrives and with it freedom.  From here I head straight down to Bond Street and onto a cramped Central Line train full of foreign arseholes with rucksacks that repeatedly hit me.  Rather than stay on the train any longer than I have to I exit at Oxford Circus instead of Tottenham Court Road and walk through Soho on a gorgeous Friday night.

As I stomp through Carnaby Street I pop into Boots where I buy a £2 can of Red Bull in the hope of gaining the infamous wings.

Eventually I get to the Curzon in very good time for the screening of AMERICAN: THE BILL HICKS STORY with directors Q&A following afterwards.  After collecting my ticket I get suckered into proceedings by buying a drink called a “Sane Man”.  It has espresso and Kahlua amongst other things in it so tonight it makes sense.  Unfortunately it gets served in a triangle cocktail glass and with it I just look like a cock in the process.

I manage to get a decent seat in the middle of the fourth row with a super view of everything.  As I wriggle in my seat tipsy, this feels like victory.

With this the lights go down and as people chatter profusely through the trailers it is extra amusing when all things go quiet as the trailer for Birdemic appears.  At first we think the trailer is a joke but ultimately it is just fucked up stuff.

From here tonight’s host strolls out on stage.  As he addresses the audience almost immediately you begin to wonder “who the fuck is this guy?”  Soon it becomes apparent he is something of a phoney.  He states that he is from the Sheffield Documentary Festival (but this is London) while being Asian with what appears to be an American accent.  Can you spell identity crisis?  Quite frankly he has nothing going for him with regards to proceedings.  The more he opens his mouth the less you have confidence that he knows anything of the source/subject/topic this evening.  Swiftly he wheels out the filmmakers Matt Harlock and Paul Thomas who both remind me of Steve Lamacq (hired geeks, a good thing and a bad thing).

Fortunately AMERICAN: THE BILL HICKS STORY soon begins and tonight I find myself surprisingly/pleasantly transfixed by the movie even though I have already seen it, engrossed in a way that I wasn’t expecting to be taken in.

I may be mistaken but I swear there have been a couple of tweaks applied to it since the London Film Festival and the changes scream at me even though in truth they are nothing major and do not really change/alter the flow of the documentary.

The movie remains recommended as it ends with applause before the tool of a host/interviewer hops back on stage and continues to fake it up.

As with last year the filmmakers again enthusiastically give good head in a very serious and classic BBC manner.  It’s a tough thing really whenever people try to analyse comedy and humour to such a degree often it falls foul of removing all the fun from the piece.

Soon they get Steve Hicks on the line from America as it gets played through the microphone via an iPhone it all begins to get a bit stunted and Eurovision.  Yet again the guy is a real sport and super accommodating even if his comments are gracious as opposed to illuminating.

From here the questions get pushed out to the crowd where nothing really hits the spot.  Eventually a guy from Tiger Aspect sat amongst the audience lends some interesting background on the Relentless set they showed on Channel Four at Christmas 1992.

Finally the tool puts a smug close on proceedings by saying “tonight I think there is part of Bill Hicks in the room” and seldom have I felt contempt for a person in such a long time.

Slowly we shuffle out grabbing movie posters on the way.  I decide to opt out of another Sane Man cocktail instead cutting through Soho to get to Tottenham Court Road as quickly as possible.  As I enter the station it is opposite the lights of the Dominion (and We Will Rock You) where Bill Hicks once recorded Revelations but now it just houses a cheesy play based on the songs of Queen.  It truly seems/feels inconceivable that something so great ever happened here.

In the end I get to Liverpool Street in decent train and find myself on a good train home (the 9.30PM Norwich train).  Not long after leaving London the Filipino sends me a text to tell me that she has found her little girl’s hamster Adam.  Knowing how I feel towards Bobby I am genuinely happy and relieved for her recovering her pet.

Eventually I get home just after 10.30PM to the end of Friday night.

No comments: