Ah Friday morning. A blessed bacon sandwich and coffee at my desk. I have been celebrating my birthday, which was on the 12th, all week. I am now 45 years old, and so far being 45 is cool. I feel surrounded by affection and have met some brand new people too in my travels.
On wednesday night I was invited at the last minute to a charity event held in the Science Museum in aid of Starfish, a charity that supports children in South Africa whose lives have been affected by aids. Went with a bunch of chums from work. Aids is cause I have been particularly affected by with one of my best friends Timothy Gallagher and his wife Rosa having died of the disease. See some of Tim's monologues here which allude to the condition.
The starfish event was held in the Science museum, and was a black tie event. I like swanking around in black tie, rather than the standard issue jeans/ironic teeshirt that I sport as a creative. All the women looked extraordinary and jewel like. The most jewel-like of these were constantly tempting you to buy raffle tickets, to which I succumbed easily. There was a cool jazz band playing, and a speech from Gary Bailey the ex-Man U goalkeeper and, apparently, the face of soccer in South Africa. We dined in a room underneath vintage aircraft suspended from the ceiling. I had my back to a merlin engine, which powered spitfires and other ww2 aircraft. Food was very good, as was the company.
My evil twin Paul Kenny emerged however when a clot of stage school hellspawn called west end kids started giving vent to unspeakably perky numbers from musicals, neatly combining two of my pet hates in one gurning pushy-parented mob. When this abated there was a vulgar shouty auction to which people on other tables bid in a frenzy. After this we danced a bit, and I had a really nice chat with a friend of Mel's called Ellen about art.
Meanwhile I have put in a revised bid for the house I am trying to buy, and I await the outcome with interest.
I finally have thrown off the dregs of my flu too, so am not feeling constantly exhausted.
Out last night to the White Cross in Richmond and met more pals, and yet more drinks. Heard more about Katie's kiting accident. Poor thing was plucked up by the wind and landed on her head. Unsurprisingly she is sporting something of a stiff neck.
Off now to an interminable meeting. Oh joy.
On wednesday night I was invited at the last minute to a charity event held in the Science Museum in aid of Starfish, a charity that supports children in South Africa whose lives have been affected by aids. Went with a bunch of chums from work. Aids is cause I have been particularly affected by with one of my best friends Timothy Gallagher and his wife Rosa having died of the disease. See some of Tim's monologues here which allude to the condition.
The starfish event was held in the Science museum, and was a black tie event. I like swanking around in black tie, rather than the standard issue jeans/ironic teeshirt that I sport as a creative. All the women looked extraordinary and jewel like. The most jewel-like of these were constantly tempting you to buy raffle tickets, to which I succumbed easily. There was a cool jazz band playing, and a speech from Gary Bailey the ex-Man U goalkeeper and, apparently, the face of soccer in South Africa. We dined in a room underneath vintage aircraft suspended from the ceiling. I had my back to a merlin engine, which powered spitfires and other ww2 aircraft. Food was very good, as was the company.
My evil twin Paul Kenny emerged however when a clot of stage school hellspawn called west end kids started giving vent to unspeakably perky numbers from musicals, neatly combining two of my pet hates in one gurning pushy-parented mob. When this abated there was a vulgar shouty auction to which people on other tables bid in a frenzy. After this we danced a bit, and I had a really nice chat with a friend of Mel's called Ellen about art.
Meanwhile I have put in a revised bid for the house I am trying to buy, and I await the outcome with interest.
I finally have thrown off the dregs of my flu too, so am not feeling constantly exhausted.
Out last night to the White Cross in Richmond and met more pals, and yet more drinks. Heard more about Katie's kiting accident. Poor thing was plucked up by the wind and landed on her head. Unsurprisingly she is sporting something of a stiff neck.
Off now to an interminable meeting. Oh joy.
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