I grew my nails
Thinking I’d have to dig in,
How right I was,
Oh, but how undisciplined.

I am not a smoker, yet. The thing is that since my birthday I have been the proud (?) owner of a pipe. Dreams of lapsing into old age and a longing for some good old quintessential Englishness, in the face of all these horrible americanesque cigarettes that I see people are still smoking, though I’m glad to report a large drop in numbers from what I can see. I don’t like the smell of cigarette tobacco, I hate walking behind a smoker, I mind it less in pubs. If you have been into a non-smoking pub then you will know that the smell of stale beer is not that pleasant – mix it with rank cigarette odour and somehow the blend becomes comforting and not so bad. I never said no to smoking the odd jazz cigarette – as someone who went through the university system, scathed and bruised by it all, this is avoidable but preferable to most. Cigars were the first thing I tried smoking, buying them in pubs when we were 15 being thrown out before the night gets going and sharing them with about 7 other mates as we laughed through the town, now they the last resort of a heavy drinking session, a pathetically phallic man thing on occasions. So, a pipe then – still unused, lying beside the record player at home, waiting for cold winters days, allotments, dogs, walks through the forest or on the cliffs. Hmmm, I’m not sure I could bear to start.

I’m not sure what it is but when I have a cold – a good proper cold – then the idea of smoking seems wonderful, as if the dirty chemicals and tobacco will scrape away the soreness of my throat, scratching the itch that is the tightening of the larynx. Maybe then I will start. For the minute though I am glad to report that I am far too sensible.

http://www.campaigncc.org

After some small deliberation – I have decided that I’ll pop down to the demo, march, etc.

Please come down if you can make it -  find out more by clicking on the link. Cheers! http://www.campaigncc.org

Last night I went back to Mum and Dad’s and learnt something new courtesy of my Nan; it is bad luck to pass the salt cellar direct from your hand to someone else’s, you have to put it down and let the other person pick it up. Pepper pots you can do what you like with.

Where do these “its bad luck if…” stories come from?

Comments:
lemonsquash
I know where that one came from. In the seventeenth century, the Earl of Wessex invited Lady Elizabeth Marmoset of Monmouth to take dinner with him, whilst entertaining designs of courtship. So strong was the chemistry between them, that they both built up a preternatural static charge about their persons. When requested to pass the salt, the Earl saw the opportunity to take the relationship to the next level; to wit – to get touchy-feely. So he passed it directly to her hand, intending to brush fingertips. However, the level of electricity that had developed between them caused an explosion, which burnt all the skin off Lady Elizabeth’s hand. As if this wasn’t bad enough, the salt cellar also shattered, spraying its contents onto the Lady’s already bubbling knuckles. Henceforth, salt has been put to the table first as a precaution against just such an embarrassing faux pas ever occurring again.

Needless to say, the Earl didn’t get a bunk-up.

thisisalloneword
Well that explains it, of course!
My nan also uses the phrase; “uglier than a marmosets knuckles” – I assumed it was something to do with the tiny monkeys – but now I know better.

Cheers!

Do you know what the bubbles in tea are called? You know, the ones that lie on the surface when a cup is still young.

Tea money.

So now you know.

15 minutes late in today – a new record since starting the new job (but still woefully short of the all time best) mainly because of the Piccadilly Line which was slow, ram packed and horrible. Could also be because I stayed at home to listen to all 3 versions of Chicago on Sufjan Stevens Avalanch LP, dropped my winter coat off at the dry cleaners and bought a sandwich from tescos. But mainly it was the tube, ok?

Bought candles for Sallie yesterday – happy birthday Sal – from habitat, as chosen by Charlotte and me which made me fairly late back into work after lunch – a good 40 minutes – good news was that no-one said a thing – the boss is only a contractor and so he doesn’t mind so much and also no-one really knows when you leave and how long you’ve taken. Still, I will try and be good.

I went to a party a few weeks back and had a leaflet thrust at me for a demonstration against USA environmental policies. Think its outside of the embassy, below Bond Street somewhere. But will I be going? Hmmm…

I used to go to the anti-capitalist marches on Mayday, think that the first one was in 2001, I remember it was the one where all the people got trapped in Oxford Street for hours. I was outside the cordon and a load of us marched through Soho and beyond making noise and reclaiming streets or something. Riot police started battering a few people in the front, I think that the Wombles were targeted, without provocation, so we scarpered and had to run down the streets avoiding police who would try to rugby tackle us. Why was I there though? I would ask for the day off work (at British Gas) saying can I take the day off to go rioting? Sure, sure, they’d say, no worries. Still felt guilty about working in the private sector, getting paid from money taken from old people who were overcharged for heating bills and all that.

I’m in the public sector now, as are most people in the family, and maybe that move has taken a bit of drive out of me. So will I go on Saturday or not? I don’t know. I guess I should – I know I should. Its always better to do something than to do nothing when its something you believe is right but can I work myself up to be bothered.

How many of us all agree that policies should be more environmentally friendly? Now, how many would write a letter to their MP, how many would go to a demonstration or meeting? Is there punch and pie?

Ah, the Departed… what a huge dissapointment. what a lazy, lazy film. for shame scorsese, for shame. no tension, no depth, no charector development, workmanlike cinematography, weird accents, not one charector in the film that you had any empathy for, worse than gangs of new york by a clear country mile, worse than copland, worse than jackie brown, worse than any of the adverts that preceeded it, including the one for southern comfort (so-co anyone? I’ll have a so-co. so-co please.) just very very poor.

not my cup of tea – how anyone managed to give this good reviews is totally fucking beyond me – does anyone out there like this piece of crap? well?

Comments:
Valerie
Hi there!

thisisalloneword
Um, Hi.

quips
did we watch the same film? I’d watch it all again just for Mark Wahlberg’s character. I was, admittedly unimpressed with Nicholson, and I wish Scorsese would get over his Di Caprio obsession which detracts from the film a little. But the ending was unexpected, the pace was fast moving and the dialogue was first class.

i did spot that you didn’t like Gangs of New York as well which beggars belief given the impact of Daniel Day Lewis.

I’m not saying that Departed is up there with Goodfellas or Taxi Driver etc etc but I’d buy it on DVD and probably be proud to have it in the collection.

Maybe you weren’t in the mood?

Its getting good and cold, even in London, and I think that I might have to break out my log tweed coat, after its had a dry clean, to provide some much needed snug warmth. If I do start wearing it I have to bear in mind that its a nightmare to lug about on the tube – if you wear it you lose 3 pounds in sweat each journey (might not be such a bad move seeing as I’m overweight but…) or I carry it which is not easy cus its heavy, bulky and things fall out the pockets. Of course, if I get a seat then all’s good but I can’t bet heavily on this rank outsider.

The office is very cold as well, it is double glazed but there’s no heating and the building is fairly old and drafty. And seeing as all I do all day is sit and type there’s not much blood circulation help there – more trips to the kitchen for tea will sort this out – always a good idea. Wonder how cold it will get in a few months time. brrr….

Just finished a great lunch of pasty, chicken something and lettuce sandwhich and a Sainsbury’s little pot of gooseberry fool – the best pudding you can buy for 35p, absolutley stunning – better with some kind of choclate to dunk in it – where’s my twirl bar?… aha.

Off to watch the Departeded later, can’t imagine it’ll be anywhere near as good as Goodfellas or Casino but expect that it’ll be much more enjoyable than Gangs of New York, which I liked but didn’t love.

Saw a few Halloween films last few days;

Halloween – ace, jumpy, smart and kept imagining that Donald Pleasence was about to speak to camera and say; “and thats why you shouldn’t have sex”.
The Omen – daddy of the genre turns out to be not much cop all in all – satan goes to the zoo is fun but not as good as End Of Days
Rosemary Baby – now we’re talking – very creepy – very good – playing on the fears of women everywhere in a really nasty way and yet it manages to be a really good guessing game right up until the last few minutes – well, unless you know the plot – I thought that it would be left ambigous and felt a wee bit cheated but still, I really enjoyed it.

Comments:
pietscully
the twirl bar…wasn’t sure people still ate them. i remember when i was a kid, went to ireland, before twirls were available in the uk they had them there, and my aunt worked at the cadbury’s factory in coolock. well. you can imagine, to a 12 year old it was like being given the secret key to the pyramids or something. i miss cadbury’s.

thisisalloneword
American chocolate’s not up to much then?
Do they do bars?

I suggest trying to get a cadbury’s hamper sent across in time for thanksgiving – maybe with a tub of bovril and some sausages thrown in. I say this but I have no idea what food Americans have and what they dont…

pietscully
they do, but they call them chocolate pubs

thisisalloneword
took me a few seconds to register, ho ho, its a slow day and my brain is tired…

this is all true. i can control time. all i have to do is concentrate very hard and time just stops. i did it just then whilst typing the word “just” but you didn’t notice. how could you have noticed? there was no time to notice. sadly i myself am unable to do anything in this strange un-time period because there is no time to do anything. all in all it is a rubbish skill and worse it does nothing to help to pass the day one little bit.

Comments:
pietscully
does time stop or do all the people and things around you stop? does the earth stop, in which case does that affect gravity, or is it a pan-universal power? if everything stops, what does that mean for the abstract notion of time?
I used t have a similar ability, but due to a spelling error I could only stop Tim. I had to abandon this power when it started having adverse effects on british tennis at wimbledon.

thisisalloneword
It has no effect on anything, there is no slowdown of time before the event nor is there a quickening after it. It slices time using a razor of zero thickness and as far as any time line is concerned, its all business as usual.