(no subject)
May. 26th, 2002 11:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zotzNot much to say really. I'm going to say it at great length, though, so let's have one of these :
I drove up with records on Friday -![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
darkgoblin couldn't make it, unfortunately, but he needn't think he'll escape me next time - and had a quiet dram with my folks instead of going to the pub or a club with friends. I'd just missed them, so I hung around until my parents got back. Twas good.
Sunday involved firstly a wander around central Edinburgh with aforementioned parents, which was wonderful. The sun was out and it felt so good to be back. An astonishingly beautiful city, even before I start thinking about the good friends and happy memories. Queenie was having a parade up and down the Royal Mile, so the council had had to put sand down so the horses didn't slip - she had a couple of cavalry troops with her, apparently, with bands and the whole works - but for the inevitable "security reasons" they weren't telling anyone when in the day it was happening. So nobody saw it. Hence, my first LJ poll :
[Poll #36271]
Anyway, my parents have bought another flat in Edinburgh - for those who don't know them, owning increasing amounts of Scotland's capital city is one of their hobbies - and this one's a doozie. Right opposite the Tron Kirk. It seems to have been going for about half price because the previous owner had decorated it in purple and green, filled it with about six sackloads of dried flowers and . . . well, from their description it sounded like the only person who'd live in it would be a fragrant and flagrant perve with an extravagant personality and independent means. Obviously I offered to put out feelers to find such a tenant, but they decided to redecorate instead. An astonishing flat, though, and it's probably better this way.
After that, off to a record shop. This will surprise no-one who knows me. A couple of Dickies records, the Wedding Present Peel Sessions EP of Ukrainian folk songs, a couple of CDs to send to a certain Texan friend who may appreciate them, and an album by Hobotalk, who I saw supporting the Magnetic Fields a couple of years ago on the South Bank. They hail from the spiritual home of country music - the East coast of Scotland. Dunbar, to be precise. It was an odd gig - wonderful musically, but peripherally weird. I'd said I'd try to collar a couple of other posters to uk.music.alternative, but as soon as I'd spotted the only one I'd recognise - Jyoti "White Town" Mishra - I spotted an old university friend I hadn't seen for a few years. There went my claim to fame, but it was good to see Andy again. The album is actually to replace my previous copy, which I lent to a friend to have a quick listen to, about a couple of years ago. I haven't demanded it back because although I do rather like it, it's more his kind of thing than mine. This way we won't end up fighting over it.
After that, I went to Teviot to drop in on the mini SF-con ("Pocketcon") that the evening's festivities were apparently in support of (not that anybody had told me, of course). It was interesting in about three ways. Firstly, I got to see what had happened to the university society I was a member of. Secondly, I got to catch up with a couple of old (or at least long-standing) friends who were in attendance. And thirdly I got to hang around drinking with two current Hugo nominees. Which was nice. There were a couple of comments about who's likely to win - happily they were funny rather than bitter. While I was theregingiber turned up. Good to see her again, obviously.
Come the evening, of course, it was time for her, myself and the inestimable Mr Mechanical to take our places behind the Wheels of Steel for Gigantor, which was going during the unsociable hours of nine and three. Now, in my experience, closing at three doesn't mean people will be there for longer, it just means they won't turn up until midnight. Still, what do I know about these things? I'm just a humble DJ. Why should I be consulted? Incidentally, I notice that a certain online resource says of our lovely little club that "entry is cheap. drink is cheap. the djs are not. well, one is." A less charitable man than myself might feel motivated to demand an explanation for that remark - eh,felishumanus?
Still, it went fairly well, I think, in spite of the fact that I was already knackered by the time that anyone showed up. There were finally loads of people that I'd love to have spent lots of time talking to, but of course it was far too bloody loud and I had work to do, so I only got to have brief words with most of them - and none at all with some, sadly. It was Ian's stag night, apparently (why doesn't anybody tell me these things in advance?), as his wedding to Emma is in a couple of weeks (why doesn't, etc). Dave "Bunnyman" Oxley's in the same situation (why doesn't, etc), and meanwhile another longstanding couple aren't anymore (why doesn't, etc). And in spite of me not knowing these things, at least two people had told me sadly that LJ was killing the art of gossip. No it isn't, matey. There's a near-infinite amount of gossip out there. Still, a couple of friends I don't see often reacted favourably to suggestions that they should visit the Deep South soon, so maybe they will. Time will tell.
So that was Saturday. Sunday was mainly about driving down here, and will fairly soon be about pushing out some Zs.
I drove up with records on Friday -
darkgoblin couldn't make it, unfortunately, but he needn't think he'll escape me next time - and had a quiet dram with my folks instead of going to the pub or a club with friends. I'd just missed them, so I hung around until my parents got back. Twas good.Sunday involved firstly a wander around central Edinburgh with aforementioned parents, which was wonderful. The sun was out and it felt so good to be back. An astonishingly beautiful city, even before I start thinking about the good friends and happy memories. Queenie was having a parade up and down the Royal Mile, so the council had had to put sand down so the horses didn't slip - she had a couple of cavalry troops with her, apparently, with bands and the whole works - but for the inevitable "security reasons" they weren't telling anyone when in the day it was happening. So nobody saw it. Hence, my first LJ poll :
[Poll #36271]
Anyway, my parents have bought another flat in Edinburgh - for those who don't know them, owning increasing amounts of Scotland's capital city is one of their hobbies - and this one's a doozie. Right opposite the Tron Kirk. It seems to have been going for about half price because the previous owner had decorated it in purple and green, filled it with about six sackloads of dried flowers and . . . well, from their description it sounded like the only person who'd live in it would be a fragrant and flagrant perve with an extravagant personality and independent means. Obviously I offered to put out feelers to find such a tenant, but they decided to redecorate instead. An astonishing flat, though, and it's probably better this way.
After that, off to a record shop. This will surprise no-one who knows me. A couple of Dickies records, the Wedding Present Peel Sessions EP of Ukrainian folk songs, a couple of CDs to send to a certain Texan friend who may appreciate them, and an album by Hobotalk, who I saw supporting the Magnetic Fields a couple of years ago on the South Bank. They hail from the spiritual home of country music - the East coast of Scotland. Dunbar, to be precise. It was an odd gig - wonderful musically, but peripherally weird. I'd said I'd try to collar a couple of other posters to uk.music.alternative, but as soon as I'd spotted the only one I'd recognise - Jyoti "White Town" Mishra - I spotted an old university friend I hadn't seen for a few years. There went my claim to fame, but it was good to see Andy again. The album is actually to replace my previous copy, which I lent to a friend to have a quick listen to, about a couple of years ago. I haven't demanded it back because although I do rather like it, it's more his kind of thing than mine. This way we won't end up fighting over it.
After that, I went to Teviot to drop in on the mini SF-con ("Pocketcon") that the evening's festivities were apparently in support of (not that anybody had told me, of course). It was interesting in about three ways. Firstly, I got to see what had happened to the university society I was a member of. Secondly, I got to catch up with a couple of old (or at least long-standing) friends who were in attendance. And thirdly I got to hang around drinking with two current Hugo nominees. Which was nice. There were a couple of comments about who's likely to win - happily they were funny rather than bitter. While I was there
gingiber turned up. Good to see her again, obviously.Come the evening, of course, it was time for her, myself and the inestimable Mr Mechanical to take our places behind the Wheels of Steel for Gigantor, which was going during the unsociable hours of nine and three. Now, in my experience, closing at three doesn't mean people will be there for longer, it just means they won't turn up until midnight. Still, what do I know about these things? I'm just a humble DJ. Why should I be consulted? Incidentally, I notice that a certain online resource says of our lovely little club that "entry is cheap. drink is cheap. the djs are not. well, one is." A less charitable man than myself might feel motivated to demand an explanation for that remark - eh,
felishumanus?Still, it went fairly well, I think, in spite of the fact that I was already knackered by the time that anyone showed up. There were finally loads of people that I'd love to have spent lots of time talking to, but of course it was far too bloody loud and I had work to do, so I only got to have brief words with most of them - and none at all with some, sadly. It was Ian's stag night, apparently (why doesn't anybody tell me these things in advance?), as his wedding to Emma is in a couple of weeks (why doesn't, etc). Dave "Bunnyman" Oxley's in the same situation (why doesn't, etc), and meanwhile another longstanding couple aren't anymore (why doesn't, etc). And in spite of me not knowing these things, at least two people had told me sadly that LJ was killing the art of gossip. No it isn't, matey. There's a near-infinite amount of gossip out there. Still, a couple of friends I don't see often reacted favourably to suggestions that they should visit the Deep South soon, so maybe they will. Time will tell.
So that was Saturday. Sunday was mainly about driving down here, and will fairly soon be about pushing out some Zs.
no subject
Date: 2002-05-26 11:38 pm (UTC)I also enjoyed About a Boy when I saw it this evening
Hmm. Is that something that needs excusing? I haven't really been following the reviews - I don't make it to the cinema as much these days as I should. Although a couple of friends in Edinburgh made me promise to see Dog Soldiers. One of them runs a horror film festival, so she does sometimes know what she's talking about.
Still, I am abroad, which excuses it a little.
"Innocence is no excuse" (Saxon, I'm afraid. Look, I once had this flatmate who liked them, OK? I've never even heard the song myself, I just know the lyric)