Monday 1 March 2010

Monday 1 March 2010

This morning I had some kind of dream, probably wrapped around my TV being left on as the closing (and loud) ceremony of the Winter Olympics taking place.  Nobody responded to me when I asked “are Devo playing?”  I guess people just do not care.

All the news today is regarding natural disasters.  After Chile has been hit hard with a horrific earthquake now it is mainland Europe that is being stunned by floods and now that they have arrived at France there are warnings of its next stop being this country.  I have to say it is pretty alarming to see Essex (and the rest of East Anglia) on the warning map.  Should I be buying sandbags and bracing myself at this time?  I always knew it was smart to buy a first floor flat.  I didn’t think GMTV could get any worse but now that it is beginning to resemble an Al Gore documentary it really isn’t good.

Leaving the flat today it is into a light but very cold morning.  In the grand scheme of things though I can live with the chill provided there is sun to counteract it.  Once the nip and bite is out of the air it will begin to resemble my favourite weather.

The journey up to London holds little in the way of thrill today.  Upon arrival at Liverpool Street as I cross the station the situation on the tube platform is rammed.  What has gone wrong?  Welcome to Monday.

Eventually against my wishes I board a tube where I have to stand all the way to Baker Street, which is something of an unpleasant rarity for this journey ordinarily.  Bellalike boards also, standing up for one stop before getting off at Moorgate seemingly with view to getting a better train, one on which she can sit her arse.

This morning I am able to retain/maintain sanity by listening to the audiobook of A People’s History Of America by Howard Zinn.  This is a guy that Robin Ince has been recommending for the longest time and with the sad event of Zinn’s recent passing even though I have left it late to check him out at least I have got there in the end.

Today the chapters I am listening to swiftly move on from the civil rights movement (and loss of faith in Martin Luther King) to American atrocities committed during the Korean War, the description of which quite literally sees my jaw drop.  This was a part of American history I had never heard of before, although in a way I cannot say I am surprised by it.  The hypocrisies of that nation are being to astound me more and more now every time I rub up against and learn about them.  The Germans in the first past of the last century had nothing on the monster that it has become now.  And I doubt China will prove any friendlier as a superpower, once they finally bother to pull their finger out.  We are all doomed.

With this thought in mind my week begins surprisingly well, I feel informed and intelligent for a change.  Soon after getting into work the angry boss hands me a coffee.  Good morning Monday.

Today I am busy, sinking my teeth into the late January accounts (not my fault).  My commitment to the cause is confirmed when the consultant phones and tells me of his intentions to come in on Wednesday, my scheduled day off this week.  Promptly I move it to Thursday, never say I am not a team player (fuck you Moriarty).

I get rumbled on the Facebook Cull today as Day 86 sends me a message with the opening line “I knew you would delete me”.  Out of cowardice and fear I only browse the preview and do not open the actual mail.  I can’t face conflict today, I’m too busy.

My bank aches this morning as I finally get around to paying my annual accountancy membership fees.  There is £189 I will never see again.

Proceedings take something of a dip as suddenly I have to pull my finger out as things become busy but once more it just doesn’t quite go.  I blame it on being Monday.  By the end of the day though I have almost redeemed things and posted the entire bank and done the reconciliation.  This is foundation of bookkeeping, if you get this right you are well on your way to have spot on accounts.

Leaving work tonight I aim direct to Leicester Square and the Arts Theatre for tonight’s performance of the play PARTY.  Once there I collect my ticket only to release that I have a hell of a lot of time to kill before the performance.

Not wishing to hang around like wallflower and social leper I go for a wander around Covent Garden where by accident I discover the whereabouts of The Ivy.  So this is where all the rich and famous reside for a casual good time.  I look at the man on the door in his silly hat wondering just how much of a punch he can possibly pack and if I have it in me to swoop past him for a look around.  Not a chance in hell.

By this point I am now hungry but contradictorily not in the mood to eat.  I also do not feel able to intake any caffeine so instead I head to the Café Nero near the tube station and snag a hot chocolate for a sugar fix.  Perhaps I am diabetic.

Once purchased I stand on the streets of Covent Garden cum Leicester Square watching a busy Monday night unfold around me.  It all feels like a bad MTV video as I stand in the middle of proceedings as if yearning to be noticed.

Eventually I head into the theatre where I take my seat and PARTY kicks off its opening night.

The last (and only) time I was in this venue was to watch the Bill Hicks Slight Return show.  It was a fun Friday evening in September 2007 and one of the first times I ever spoke to Zoe as we left work together that evening.  Before the show I bought my first ever proper iPod, an 80GB that remained in its box for two years before I look it out the box and used it for the first (and only) time last summer.  That night in 2007 I also went to American Apparel and used the vouchers that the studio gave me as a leaving gift.

PARTY turns out to be great fun, full of quirk and a terrific dig at the blind idealism of being upper middle class.  Through the duration of the show hypocrisies and contradictions are exposed in confused fashion as the characters almost choke themselves trying to do and say the right things while getting their own piece of the cake.

The cast is very impressive and this is the real strength of the play and ultimately I feel its saviour.  In the middle of proceedings is the excellent Tim Key playing the bewildered son of a printing press owner having been invited under false pretence who really appears to have just come for cake.  Elsewhere Anna Crilly (the housekeeper from Lead Balloon) puts in a solid performance (although she is funnier when she has an Eastern European accent).  Elsewhere during the course of the play I find myself developing a crush on Katy Wix.

During the course of the play it nails peoples attitudes echoing both the voices of certain friends of mine as well as the way and manner in which mainstream political parties endeavour to please everybody by treading on eggshells and looking very awkward in the process.  Watching the various characters slowly twist themselves up in knots and bicker is something that is tangible at all levels and on the few occasions that their masks drop there is true comedy as they then promptly act sheepish trying to take back what they say.

All that said I have to admit when the play ends it is at a point where I am not quite sure where it is going so I am slightly relieved when it comes to a finale (a funny conclusion).

From here I burst out onto the streets of Leicester Square boarding a tube and changing at Holborn with view to getting across to Liverpool Street in time to get a good train home.  In the end I wind up snagging the 9.18PM train to Clacton while also grabbing a Madras Beef pasty in the process.  As a result of the early night I find myself home just after 10.30PM where Newswipe and The Virtual Revolution are being repeated on BBC2.  The perfect ending.