Nipped out of work slightly early to head over and see the lovely catsgomiaow and her Mighty The Silver Springs, though truth told the rest of us just sat around across the road for an hour and a half before. We talked about houses to get it out of the way before katstevens got there, then she arrived and we talked about houses some more. A top gig, in the beautiful Luminaire, after which I disappeared home to tidy stuff up and get to bed at a reasonable hour for...
Being in South Kensington at 10.30 to embark on the Time Out Treasure Hunt with therealjo, which was a lot of fun. It's not a time specific one like the Whitechapel one I was on earlier, I don't imagine we saw anyone else on it the whole day. It's also not as taxing on the brain - it's basically "Go here, write down this word from this plaque". Perfect for someone like me who has lived here a while now but never actually done the touristy things. We ended up going through the South Kensington ones (museums + park), the Westminster ones (Parliament square and the big building around there), and the South Bank (from the London Eye over to Southwark Cathedral), in about seven lazy hours. I got to repeat a lot of the Mark Thomas story from my last post, due to seeing the sign for the surrealism exhibition in the V&A, and then later we walked past one of the protesters, as you can see:
The company wasn't bad either - it's always nice even you've become friends over the internet, to meet someone a second time and go "Yeah, yeah I was right, they are ace".
Then home again to watch a very bad episode of Doctor Who, and out via the Shimura Curves gig to The Castle, for more drunk drinking. I still haven't quite got a handle on it, it turns out. I naturally weave things that happen to me into Stories (I think most people do) and a lot of the really big and long ago ones into sagas, and I do at times tend to speak exclusively in them - one of the nice things about the last few weeks is talking to people who are willing and able to not just keep awake during the stories but throw spanners in the works and take the whole thing off the well-worn track. ANYWAY, on the Drunk Friday one of the first signs that I'd passed the point of no return was that I was starting stories and forgetting about them entirely, usually I just layer more tangents on top of each other and then come back to it in the end whereas then I was just wittering with no end in sight (why yes, I am an enormous selfobsessed bore, why do you ask?) and on this Saturday it was quite the opposite - I knew the end of the stories and pushed on well past the point where my listeners were paying attention. I don't really like either of those as a mode of operation, to be honest.
Left there at about 1ish, cycled home reasonably safely, and up again at 8am yesterday to try and fail to get Glastonbury tickets. Then a very quiet slow day, during which media was consumed/moved to shiny plastic discs and various things were tidied. Later, a stand full of CDs threw itself to the floor. Such is life.