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Dec. 2nd, 2002 12:01 amWeekend.
I'd arranged for Pyro to come round about nine so we could catch a train into the smoke to go to Tenebrae. He arrived much as expected and we did exactly what we'd arranged. Unexpectedly, we bumped into my erstwhile boss and her sister in the station. I haven't seen her since she left for Sheffield a few months ago. Surprisingly, she was mildly reproachful about not having told her about the HMHB gig, but apparently she was in london that week anyway. They were getting back from brighton, so we only spoke for a moment, then myself and Pyro went off to the London train. We talked about his boat on the way in - it's due out of the water for the winter now - and I found a truly spectacular photo of Straw, Blair and Jacques Chirac in the Grauniad. There was also some talk about boats in London, and in particular the one my sister sort-of-owns. We bumped into![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
emarkienna in the tube station, and lost him again on Oxford Street when I went to the bank (he was also going to Tenebrae, but elected not to take the detour). It was about closing time, so we gave the Ben Crouch a miss (wisely, I'm told - it was apparently implausibly crowded) and walked down to Gossips, getting in just in time to see zoo_music_girl, Tom, et possibly al (it was dark, OK?) putting stuff into the cloakroom. People were up the back - the aforementioned, swisstone in a very fetching black frilly shirt, ladymoonray, and in due course shekhmet and Sarah the Pilot. mrph was there also, and just before I left I managed to have a brief chat with alexanderx, who'd manage to avoid being seen all evening. There were maybe a few other people as well. I was drinking slightly. I had a lovely time talking to people, though. Tom reckoned that the joke about the actor's murdered family was far too close to the truth.
Anyway, everyone left (in a couple of cases, slightly at my behest. I told them to Get A Room, and they did). This left me with nobody to talk to, so I sloped off myself back to Kate's. I got Saturday's paper on the way.
Saturday started roughly on time. I chatted to Kate for a while, reconnected one of her speakers and listened to some PJ Harvey (Big Exit deserves to be better known. On the other hand, I did dream about wandering around town with a very solid and ugly pistol in the back of my belt, so maybe I shouldn't listen to it too often . . .). Then I persuaded her to come along to the Exiles drink on Holborn. We arrived and only Tony (I think), Ian Edwards and Big Simon were there. Tom showed up shortly afterwards, looking remarkably rested for someone who'd been up late (i.e. more rested than I felt), followed by Anne, then Stuart, then Phil. After a couple of hours we went to a local pizzeria, where we were joined by Andrew Wilson and Lorna, who were down from Auld Reekie for the weekend. I'll probably see them in the next few weeks, but as I haven't seen them for at least six months, it was very welcome.
About five I left to get back forrazornet's stagdrinkpubcrawlthing, which I was already late for. I got there about seven, and drank with them in the pub and than back at his place until after three. Various most excellent peeps were present, including Roger, who used to manage the Q.
This morning didn't really happen, for obvious reasons. This afternoon did. It involved newspapers since Friday, not finding today's Observer, speaking to my parents on the phone and then watching Jeffrey Archer - The Truth. Margaret Thatcher's strip was, I'm sad to say, handled much more tastefully than it could have been, but overall it was a decent use of time. And now, i think, I will listen to lots of relentless depressing records from my rapidly-receding hairl^H^H^H^H^Hyouth.
I'd arranged for Pyro to come round about nine so we could catch a train into the smoke to go to Tenebrae. He arrived much as expected and we did exactly what we'd arranged. Unexpectedly, we bumped into my erstwhile boss and her sister in the station. I haven't seen her since she left for Sheffield a few months ago. Surprisingly, she was mildly reproachful about not having told her about the HMHB gig, but apparently she was in london that week anyway. They were getting back from brighton, so we only spoke for a moment, then myself and Pyro went off to the London train. We talked about his boat on the way in - it's due out of the water for the winter now - and I found a truly spectacular photo of Straw, Blair and Jacques Chirac in the Grauniad. There was also some talk about boats in London, and in particular the one my sister sort-of-owns. We bumped into
emarkienna in the tube station, and lost him again on Oxford Street when I went to the bank (he was also going to Tenebrae, but elected not to take the detour). It was about closing time, so we gave the Ben Crouch a miss (wisely, I'm told - it was apparently implausibly crowded) and walked down to Gossips, getting in just in time to see zoo_music_girl, Tom, et possibly al (it was dark, OK?) putting stuff into the cloakroom. People were up the back - the aforementioned, swisstone in a very fetching black frilly shirt, ladymoonray, and in due course shekhmet and Sarah the Pilot. mrph was there also, and just before I left I managed to have a brief chat with alexanderx, who'd manage to avoid being seen all evening. There were maybe a few other people as well. I was drinking slightly. I had a lovely time talking to people, though. Tom reckoned that the joke about the actor's murdered family was far too close to the truth.Anyway, everyone left (in a couple of cases, slightly at my behest. I told them to Get A Room, and they did). This left me with nobody to talk to, so I sloped off myself back to Kate's. I got Saturday's paper on the way.
Saturday started roughly on time. I chatted to Kate for a while, reconnected one of her speakers and listened to some PJ Harvey (Big Exit deserves to be better known. On the other hand, I did dream about wandering around town with a very solid and ugly pistol in the back of my belt, so maybe I shouldn't listen to it too often . . .). Then I persuaded her to come along to the Exiles drink on Holborn. We arrived and only Tony (I think), Ian Edwards and Big Simon were there. Tom showed up shortly afterwards, looking remarkably rested for someone who'd been up late (i.e. more rested than I felt), followed by Anne, then Stuart, then Phil. After a couple of hours we went to a local pizzeria, where we were joined by Andrew Wilson and Lorna, who were down from Auld Reekie for the weekend. I'll probably see them in the next few weeks, but as I haven't seen them for at least six months, it was very welcome.
About five I left to get back for
razornet's stagdrinkpubcrawlthing, which I was already late for. I got there about seven, and drank with them in the pub and than back at his place until after three. Various most excellent peeps were present, including Roger, who used to manage the Q. This morning didn't really happen, for obvious reasons. This afternoon did. It involved newspapers since Friday, not finding today's Observer, speaking to my parents on the phone and then watching Jeffrey Archer - The Truth. Margaret Thatcher's strip was, I'm sad to say, handled much more tastefully than it could have been, but overall it was a decent use of time. And now, i think, I will listen to lots of relentless depressing records from my rapidly-receding hairl^H^H^H^H^Hyouth.
