Month: September 2004

Sick of being sick.

It’s official.  I’m fed up of this.  I have had a cold all bastarding week, and while I don’t much like working with a cold, I can at least manage it.  It’s only work, and if I’m not giving it 100%, then y’know, at least I’m showing up and giving it a shot.  They can just looking fucking grateful.

But when I have a cold at the weekend, I start to get seriously honked off.  As I write this, there are at least two groups of my friends at the pub, and as should be obvious, I’m not there.  I was out earlier to wish kazzik a happy birthday for tomorrow, but I came home because I was feeling tired and ropey.  On the way home, I managed to go from “ropey” to “shivering and sweating, and having trouble standing up”.

What I had wanted to do this weekend was have a few quiet drinks with chums, then go out and dance myself stupid until the sun came up, then collapse into bed just long enough to be able to attend The Fall gig tomorrow evening, followed by a healing coma until Monday morning.  The sort of rock’n’roll weekend that a chap in his prime should be having. [1]

Instead, at half past nine on a Saturday night, I find myself without even the energy to play the computer game I bought earlier for more than half an hour.  Instead, I am planning to curl up with Thea Gilmore on the stereo, maybe finish reading The Dirt (yes, I know, 2 years after everyone else read it), and possibly re-read my Barry Ween collection.  True, I am still drinking a medicinal whisky, but a nice measure of single malt in a cut crystal glass is hardly swigging JD from the bottle in the approved style (I did mention I’d been reading The Dirt, didn’t I?). 

Although thinking about it, I have to admit I’m more suited to the sipping of single malts, rather than the swigging on JD, even if I do own leather trousers.  Still, I’d rather do it in company, y’know?  I had fucking well better be more with it for the gig tomorrow.

[1] Yes, OK.  Shut up.  No-one’s impressed, and you’re not funny.  Bah.

Will everyone please stop eating curry?

I went out tonight to see some mates I haven’t seen in ages.  They were going for a curry, and while my instinct was to say no, not two weeks in a row, I haven’t been out with this lot very much lately, so I thought I’d show my face.  This time out, were were at least seated by the door so I was doing OK up until the point they shut it.  Bastards.

So, another evening of mild nausea over, and I have failed to go clubbing like I’d been thinking of doing, thanks to a combination of mild lingering nausea and missing the last bus, so only getting back (thanks to a lift by a passing chum) at midnight, and not really wishing to have to dash out at breakneck pace for the last tube up to town.

But if anyone else suggests anything curry related as a group social activity in the next while, I’m going to be deeply unhappy, because there’s just no fucking way I’m going near a curry house in the next year or so.  I’m not even going near Brick Lane.  You can all shove your indian food up your arses.

Quite Ugly One Morning (version)

Started well.  Thought the cast was pretty good, and the performances were OK.  I know it’s cliche to say “it wasn’t as good as the book” but they’d done such a good job of adapting it up to the last 40 mins or so (aside from the Jenny/Sarah swapping at any rate) but they really, really copped out at the end.  I was waiting for shotguns and revlations about what really happened in LA, dammit.

Ever had one of those evenings?

First of all: I’m informed I owe kenix an apology from last week.  Sorry, chap.  Had, obviously, no idea what I was doing.  Certainly wasn’t intentional.  Should it happen again, feel free to administer some kind of beating.  Although not too hard, as I’m a big girl’s blouse.

Secondly, I suspect that going out tonight was a mistake.  Certainly, the curry house was.  Apologies to everyone else for being much, much less than sparkling company all night – I can only plead exhaustion, and laterly, nausea.  I shall attempt a dazzling return to form by next weekend, if anything is going on.

In other news, and despite the fact that no-one but me cares, the new Flogging Molly album is lordly.  A little bit more mellow than the last one perhaps, but it’s really grown on me in the last couple of days.  I can see it getting every bit as much play round here as the previous two have, which is good.

Oh, and does anyone reading this fancy going to see the Pogues on the 21st of December?  I’m already going the previous night, but I’m trying to get an excuse to go the second night as well, so if there are a few folk interested, it’ll make it all the easier…