| Sunday, November 09, 2003 |
 | Well, gosh. I'm a stranger in my own blog these days. It's been a while, hasn't it? Alas, I feel that I can no longer add to my blog at work, since for the first time in my life I appear to have a proper job (i.e. one with suits and an IT department and *everything*), so it's down to whether I get home early enough/sober enough to add anything of worth.
Besides that, it very nearly shut my brain down the last time I sat before this entry page and found myself agreeing with Nicholas Anelka. You can see how that might damage a man. Specifically, Anelka's refusal to go on a clay pigeon shooting expedition with the rest of the Man City squad, on the grounds apparently that he disagrees with the use of guns for any purpose. Given that the same day this was reported saw a six-year-old shot in Liverpool, you can see his position.
Ah well. Last Friday was Halloween, of course, which had originally meant a trip to Whitby, until the collective realisation was made that long hikes across to moors to be surrounded by goths might not be the best way to spend a braw bricht bonny nicht. So, instead to the Victoria and Albert, which was celebrating the Gothic exhibition, which was putting on a mini-whitby. Lots of goths, a DJ from (the presumably largely empty) Slimelight and a "night of record" which involved terribly well-meaning questionnaires. Top fun.
More fun from D., whose growing obsession with the fact that you can go and see things for free in London if you are organised enough (and by God he's organised - he's already pressuring me to make a decision about whether I'll be at his for New Year's) saw us watching the Now Show being recorded.
Funny thing about the Now Show - it's great fun to watch being recorded, far more in fact than listening to it. Punt and Dennis, although not actually funny, are terribly endearing - they're very likeable, even though they have built an entire career essentially on one having the head of a lego man and being able to make it go red very easily, and the other looking as if he wants to be somewhere else. His role finally became clear - he makes the gestures to show people that the sketch has finished and we should all applaud. Marcus Brigstocke remains a lovely and a funny, however - regrettably, the funny bits of his monologue will probably have been snipped from the final edit.
Hey ho, Meanwhile, I find myself home late, preparing for an overnighter. Work is a funny thing. Theoretically, I'm doing this in order to exchange my labour for goods and services, so that those times when I do not work will be more comfortable and enjoyable. Except that, to be honest, I could do without the money, thanks. After all, nobody else is even charging extra for their time - it's only the absence of holidays, sick leave, medical insurance, pension and all the other things the middle classes are meant to get that puts me in a position to sling in an invoice. So, why am I doing it? No doubt partly for the cameraderie, the striving against impossible odds. Partly out of a sense of altruism. But mainly, I suspect, because I already feel like I would somehow be letting the side down if I didn't. I commit way too early.
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