Sunday 6 December 2009
Dream: for some reason I find myself walking around the streets of Iran. It is much more advanced than a person would imagine and a real party town (the locale of which escapes me). I’m there on some kind of business and I am looking to meet up with a contact. The details of this also escape). It is Friday evening and I wind up in some town centre where everyone is blowing off steam after a tough week. This is not what I had been lead to believe a Muslim country would be like. I stand opposite a bank as it remains open and people continue going in and out to do their banking etc. There is an ATM but it isn’t actually an ATM it is like a reverse jukebox where people play their own music (CDs) and it gets broadcast on an amateur radio station. I later discover that this is BBC8, a free for all radio station they have here in Asia but not in the UK. The Western branding follows me seeing every bar in the city having Sky Sports bursting with football from every television. The latest guy that places a CD plays “Puss” by The Jesus Lizard. Initially I think someone is playing Nirvana but when I realise just what the song is it astounds me that I am hearing it at this place. When it finishes I go over to the guy and tell him what an amazing song that was. He appears little interested in my props for him. Then I notice an old school friend called Nathan hanging out as part of his group. I go over to him and say “hello”. He responds in a friendly but cagey manner. He tells me that he comes here to party as his wife and child are now in Turkey. Then I see Racton passing and I introduce the pair of them saying “he was out our school” but then I realise that Racton did not go to our school. Suddenly my confusion towards the whole situation hits me. Why are so many worlds clashing in front of me?
Today I am up at 8.30AM and early I begin writing. This week Armando Iannucci is on Andrew Marr and during the interview he gives away the ending of last night’s Thick Of It before I have had the opportunity to watch the fucker.
Unhindered by this I soldier on with the writing. One day I will have this shit complete, have something to show for my efforts but right now my creativity only resembles something of my own private Synecdoche.
As per routine I head over to the olds for Sunday lunch at 3PM and the usual grilling and questioning.
On Sky this afternoon is Everton v Spurs which turns out to be a surprisingly good game being tetchy and open with a bit of bite in the Premiership for a change. Tim Cahill is as ever top entertainment, he will always be a legend. Meanwhile I can’t decide whether Fellaini looks more like a member of the MC5, At The Drive-In or the Jimi Hendrix Experience.
Just after half time Defoe finally scores after Lennon feeds him so many chances all game. Later Dawson adds a second until late on Saha pulls a goal back and Cahill (obviously) eventually scores a late equalizer. Eventually a great game ends as Howard saves a Defoe penalty in injury time.
While I slouch on my parents’ sofa I flick my iPhone to the 100 Days To Make Me A Better Person where I discover that it has mentioned my Facebook Cull blog. High praise indeed, I appear to be doing something right for change. Tremendous.
Tonight I give repairing dad’s computer yet another crack/go but soon I find myself getting frustrated with it and instead I choose to watch the Steve Martin biography on the Bio Channel.
Eventually I head home where I hop in the bath with view to facing the new week with a fresh mug.
Sunday night ends with Happy Go Lucky on TV which is a movie I have wanted to see for some time but unfortunately it proves dull and soon it sends me to sleep. Fail.