The delightful Mr and Mrs Pie
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Here I am on Saturday morning listening to Summer Sun by Yo La Tengo which I bought yesterday remembering that Nathan had reviewed it in AnotherSun for me a couple of years ago. Nice murmury stuff and perfect for an early morning. And for remembering what I was up to last Saturday... * * * Saturday 23rd There was a window in our schedule for me to zip down to Brighton with MJ and we seized it. Was hoping that Brighton would look lovely in the sun, but it was a dull, rainy and overcast. However we successfully contived our own fun. Showed MJ my little house in the Twitten and then slipped up to Anna and Anton's and down for a bite to eat and a polish beer in the Tin Drum. Much warmth from Anton and Anna, with Anna most excellently extolling the virtues of Brighton to MJ, and Baby Klauds busily being adorable despite having a cold and pooing explosively. Shame we didn't have enough time to really kick back. Then a fast tour of Brighton through the Lanes, down to the Pavillion, t
Splendid day so far... Snuck off for secret meeting this morning, which went well. Then the IT at work had a freakout and all the systems had to be taken offline, including phones as there was a fire risk. Which meant leaving work at 2pm and returning happily to Brighton, doing a spot of shopping and catching up on my blog a bit... * * * Friday morning (22 April) and pacing about impatiently waiting for MJ at Heathrow, as MJ's plane was delayed. This followed by an emotional reunion. My life with MJ is like a movie. Our relationship conducted in bursts against all kinds of picturesque settings with proper ends and beginnings. From Heathrow we got the fast train to Paddington and a cab to our hotel in Bloomsbury where we met MJ's guardian angels Michael (a.k.a Sweetie Pie) and Johanna. Mr and Mrs Pie were exceptionally nice people -- funny, warm and generous, and by the end of the holiday I had made two new friends. There was a Schedule to be abided by, and MJ had just enough t
So... Thursday night. Have just returned from my first day back at work. Remembered on the morning train that I was due to present to the agency the brand work I had done on the cats & dogs charitythis afternoon. It being in the local theatre I felt quite at home and to general satisfaction managed to begin the presentation with asking the difference between weasels and labradors, which amused me. After the rally, most of the agency then went to the Rutland where I had a good few chats before being summoned by the call of the seagull. Saw that my piece on Taboo had been published in that august journal European Pharmameceutical Executive . A sniff of interest in New York for my CV. Which is worth following up. Best thing was Mary Jane calling me this morning. Have got my new phone and a photo I took of MJ is the screen saver on it, which is nice. I am missing her horribly. I attach the image which I took using my new phone and surprised her by snapping her under an umbrella in Laco
Have been rushing about today like a blue-arsed fly with a cocaine problem. Have taken delivery of my sofa at last. Looks nice although a little large. I now calculate that my house is now about 37% sofa and when things calm down a bit I will apply myself to sitting on it. Did vacuum cleaning, did laundry, reorganised my living space to accomodate sofa, and so on. Also replaced old toilet seat with new one. The new one took about one minute to fit, however, the old one required violent swearing for 40 mins till it freed itself. MJ will be at Heathrow tomorrow morning, necessitating me bolting from my twitten at 5 am to set off to meet her. Needless to say I can't wait. Feels like all my Christmases have been rolled into one. Late last night, caught up with Christian and Anton towards the end of the night. They had been playing pool and being lively. Had a quick beer in The Great Eastern, during which I was phoned by the divine Tenerelli, and then home for coffee and impromtu guita
Stealing a few minutes during lunch. Just sloped back from the Chinese takeaway with Pat and we have been guzzling Singapore noodles at our desks. Work largely benign, and I am feeling irrepressibly cheery today due to the imminence of MJ's visit. Bumped into the Reubster with his bicycle at Victoria. A good night last night, after a fairly dull day punctuated by a short swim. Had an exploratory beer with the FB in the Blue Anchor, then salmoned upstream to the Dove. Michel told me an enjoyable story from his nursing days, about how he persuaded his pal to pose as a corpse who, as the porters were removing him, suddenly lurched upright sending them yelping away. Joined by besuited Paul fresh from first day at new job. Always good to see him balancing unorthadox faceparts with smart clothing. Unlike the day he turned up at work with his masturbating nun on crucifix teeshirt creating widespread horror and affont. Matty Boy being cheery and having a reprehensible twinkle in his eye
Little mind-boggling today. Got out of bed at 6:30, curiously anxious and twitchy, a feeling which dissipated once I'd reached the smoke. Made phone calls to incompetent NatWest bank & arranged to have my sofa delivered on Thursday. Lunchtime to Riverside Studios with Michel, Maxine, Maxine, Carole-Anne and Angela. Ate dead lambs and drank a little wine. Michel on spectacularly good form as is Max. The French bloke looking like an mutant insect once he'd got his bike gear on. Meanwhile the other Maxine being very nice to me about Foreign Affairs, as her situation mirrors mine. Bizarre boomerang effect now endured by my friends. Start any conversation in any direction and it will end up back at Mary Jane. A couple of weeks ago the FB started a conversation with "look! A window! I bet Mary Jane has windows..." MJ called me at work in the afternoon and conveyed a story from Weezer Jr. about midgets. Went for a swim after work, pool the most crowded I have ever seen i
Really nice weekend in Brighton. Carried new container of white paint up the hill and employed it with abandon in bathroom and in alcovey bit of living room. Seem to have vast amount of other stuff to sort out suddenly. Chased sofa delivery. Did lots of houseworky stuff, laundry, in between talking to MJ. Still fondly remembering being mentioned by MJ as "her boyfriend" on the radio. Quite surreal to be listening to a local Long Island station and hearing people discuss me. Jubilantly phoned by Paul on Friday who has a job at last. Delighted for him. Now have to write artful reference by Tuesday. Also jubilantly phoned by Sarah on Friday, she was made redundant despite being pregnant. She is going to make them pay and was relishing the fight ahead. She really is a warrior woman. Most jubilantly of all, phoned by French Bloke on Saturday on a private matter which hasn't reached press release date yet. Janet, when walking to the station along the twitten had been disapprovi
Woke up this morning with a start in Ealing having stayed overnight with French Bloke and Matty boy. I'd responded to this emailed crie de coeur from the French Bloke: I am hiding in the deep, dark, safe place at the bottom of my soul. The area above I have allowed to be filled by a humunculus of my own creation, an automaton that can go through the motions and yet feel no pain. This empty doppelganger seems to be all that is required to fulfill the role expected of me by the vacuous husks of humanity who have me surrounded. The only way to reach my withdrawn soul is maybe to allow the fumes of ethanol to seep slowly by my vapid creation and into the refuge in which I have imurred myself.... So we went for a drink. And ended up at the boy's house talking nonsense to them and poor Eva. Yesterday was fine. Attended inaugural board meeting of my part of the business which was full of nosebleed-inducing figures, and little else of consequence. Got a lovely email from Romy, who is
Persuasion again on the train. Really enjoying it now. Email with lovely MJ about the scene where Captain Wentworth is talking about his first ship the Asp to an adoring audience of young ladies. He is describing how decrepit the Asp was and how he was happy to get rid of it, but what he is really talking about is Anne who has to listen while feeling old and wretched. That Austen chick could write. Lunchtime haircut. Nicki virtually my only link with Chiswick now, but going to anyone else would be an unthinkable betrayal. Disturbed when she was doing mirror thing at the end by the slight gleam at the crown. Thinking again how Carl and me were short changed by Bob who showed early promise of becoming pilgarlic but depressingly his hairloss seemed to abruptly stop. It would be justice if I became a total slaphead. Sunny day, but Brighton was full of thick sea mist when I got back. Set off to the Tin Drum at Seven Dials to meet Mark. Feels like we picked up just where we left off -- desp
Lovely sunny morning and positively cheery rattling up to London with Reuben on the acid rain talking of many and diverse matters. Stepping onto the platform at Victoria a trace of burning brimstone in the air and we noticed Spooner choking down a gasper. We three sloped along briefly. I mentioned my trip to Yeats's grave to S and as he was coming up with some erudite allusion, I wondered (not aloud for fear of getting an answer) what the collective noun for three hacks slouching off to do our filthy business in town would be. A flourish? A gloom? A sore? Work itself not bad. I wrote copy, and left on time. In the morning I got caught up in a spate of lateral thinking about what I could do with myself, which made me feel cheerful. In the afternoon I rejected a brief. It's excitement like this that keeps me going. Suggested to Andy and Mike that they were in fact gnomes as they come from Cornwall and Wales respectively and they should get back down their tin mines like the pixie
Met Matty boy at Gatwick. Claustrophobically squashed into the back row of the Easyjet aircraft. This necessitated gin. Matty keeping me company in this matter out of decency. Another large man squeezed next to Matty also turned out to be going to Marcella’s party too, as were the people in the row in front of us -- and Phil and Ash who we’d bumped into in the departure lounge. Marcella had arranged for us to be collected at Knock airport and we were driven in a small coach to Westport. Matt and me were sharing a room at a nice B&B run by a very friendly lady called Mary. After dropping our stuff off Matt and I set off into Westport, and a beautiful little town it is too. We tried a few pubs, the first one, Bould Biddy’s, being rather strange (but the barmaid later turned out to be a lifelong friend of Marcella’s however). But we settled on a pub called Matt Molloy’s which was exemplary in every way. We opted to eat at a place called Mangos and were later joined there by Phil and
Off to Westport in Ireland. Will meet Matty boy at Gatwick and fly to Knock International and from there travel to the west coast for Marcella's 30th birthday party. Also be looking forward to getting outside a few Guinesses and brooding about YB Yeats and hearing Paula laugh like a seagull again. Otherwise have had a reasonable week, where I began swimming again, and generally taking care of myself. Yesterday, however, ended up in a slightly ill-advised pre-drink-in-Ireland drink last night with my boss, Michel, Hazel, Robbie and others, and woke up in Brighton being prodded by a cleaner having fallen into a blissful sleep. Home, and gabbling to MJ on the phone for ages. The bailiffs will be coming for my stuff shortly after phone bill. Have played chess with Anton this week. We won one game each and abandoned the third (although I would have won it easily). He has nasty and aggressive way of playing chess -- nothing elegant at all about it; just a bloodbath -- which is quite reve
Moanday. Up at 6:30 for some reason. Downstairs and cooked myself some porridge which tonight I discovered completely untouched and still in the pan. Work uninspiring. Went for a short but walk with Pat at lunchtime along the river towards the Black Lion. Then a swim after work to compensate for accidental consumption of entire Easter egg found on desk. Pool beset by a team of keen and muscular swimmers surging up and down. Home and talked to lovely MJ about top-level and private matters. She has found out about Guernsey Gâche and wants to eat some. Yum... Too long since I had my laughing gear around some Gâche, might have to arrange to have some sent over.
Sunday started late, and shortly after I got out of bed Anton, Anna and Klauds came around as I was eating Guernsey Bean Jar for breakfast. My grandfather used to tell me about children running down to the bakery to collect the family Bean Jar wrapped in brown paper on Sunday morning which had been slow cooking in the baker's cooling Saturday night ovens. Was asked to take Klauds out while Anton and Anna worked on their house. We set off and she was asleep in the push chair before we reached the end of the road and slept like a baby for the next two hours. I went for a long walk down by the seafront. The air very fresh, and it was a beautiful day with warm sun, blue sky and the sea sparkling and darting with little yachts. Everyone looking cheerful in the sun, and here and there the smell of fish and chips, and coffee and later beer warming in the sun. Suddenly I was overcome with happiness again. Something about the combination of the beautiful day, feeling trusted by Anna and Ant
So back to real time today. Saturday night and I am typing this on Anton's computer and babysitting for Baby Klauds who is, thus far, sleeping like a baby. Poor Anna's grandmother has been seriously ill in the last few days and she and Anton have escaped for a few hours for some down time. A blurry week since I have been back in the UK. Full of friends who I have wanted to corner and talk to about Mary Jane and my New York trip. Serial debriefings with Mum, Anton, Maddog, Kate & Gavin, Frenchbloke, Tracey, Paul and others. I am exceedingly happy and am impatiently counting the days till MJ is over here. Today have been trying to get a grip. Beer badgers, or close allies, have disrupted house and had to spend hours this morning washing up and sorting things out. Body clock is still shot so woke late. Bumped into Spooner in Trafalgar Street and he and Ali invited me back to his place for tea and biscuits. Later sloped off into The Lord Nelson for a fast drink. Spooner these
So let me tell you a little about the divine Tenerelli. First, a few facts. A year younger than me, MJ lives in Long Island with her two children, Jack (9) and Kate (7). She is a wonderful poet. She also makes money through work as a writer and editor. She is five foot five inches, and I find her feminine and very beautiful. She has arresting hazel eyes, high cheekbones, a nice full blouse and a shy and heartfelt smile. Next is the laughter she creates. When we are together laughter is always close. She has a sense of the absurd which is like mine. She has a smart mouth. And astonishingly she has the gall to tease me. MJ is also a handful. She has black days, and rages and getting on the wrong side of her is not something to be undertaken lightly. Nor is her mind full of crows and tumbleweed. She is full of thinking. She likes poetry, Godiva chocolates, and the supernatural. Finally there is a palpable and electric connection between us that is at once spiritual and sensual.