Wednesday, May 05, 2004

Geordies and meat pies...

The May Bank holiday weekend has come and gone and I seem to have emerged from it even more tired than I was on Friday night. Blast and botheration.

I'm starting to seriously worry that my recall facility is broken. My concern about my inability to remember what I ate for tea the night before is being rapidly superseded by my alarm that I call a colleague, say Hi and promptly forget what the hell I was going to ask her. Surely that's a bit wrong isn't it?

So, in light of my new found mental deficiency I have to work backwards in an effort to document what I did this May Bank holiday weekend.

Monday Ian and I spent the afternoon trawing around Manchester city centre. I went on a bit of a Shakespeare binge and found I could not leave Waterstones before I bought myself a copy of Richard III, King Lear and The Complete Sonnets, just to name a few. I've made myself a promise that I am only going to read classic literature or things written prior to 1899 this year and I'm well on my way to fulfilling my quota. I guess watching Shakespeare in Love reminded me again just how clever the man was (Shakespeare that is) and how much I love his language. In fact I think he would be the first person on my list of 'fantasy' dinner party guests.

I digress.

After we loaded the car with our other purchases (Ian just can't resist a book sale) we headed to the cinema to see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. You must see it. I loved it.

Sunday we went to breakfast at Fuel in the hope of bumping into Dave & Catherine but I guess most people have breakfast before midday and seeing that I only dragged myself out of bed at 11.00 am we just called it brunch. It was very nice by the way... Chippy popped over later just as I was trying to self-assemble the 'tent-without-sides'* we got for a wedding present some three and a half years ago. It was a lovely sunny day and I dragged out the banana lounges as well fully expecting to spend the afternoon in the garden with a large gin & tonic, the papers and the boys. I'm still pondering the logic of assembling our 'TWS' which exists solely to keep the sun away from fair flesh when I constantly moan of the lack of said sun in this country for six months of the year. But there you go, we are now the proud owners of a green canvas tent-without-sides which I have to say is much, much bigger than the picture on the side of the box suggests!

Saturday Ian went down to London to watch his beloved QPR soundly beat Swindon at Loftus Road and Christine and I went to the City of Manchester Stadium to watch our beloved Newcastle play something that should have been football which resulted in them getting thumped by Manchester City. There are only 2 upsides to the day and they were (a) the weather was fantastic and (b) we had seats behind the goal, 4 rows from the pitch at the away end. So we lasses found ourselves elbow deep in NUFC fans who are mostly, blokes, big, loud and unfortunately this time, very, very pissed. Apparently one is not allowed to smoke at the new Stadium so I have to assume that some of these blokes either can't read or don't care. Methinks the latter frankly although some of the behaviour had me leaning to the former. Still, these blokes are my fellow fans and for the most part they were good company and quite entertaining. With the exception of the bloke who, at the beginning of the second half, tried to get past me with a pie in one hand. What he succeeded in doing was dropping half his pie down the leg of the woman sitting behind us the rest he smeared over his face. Not nice.

All in all it was a frustrating game which drove us both to dementia cause for all the screaming we did the game went south. I just want to be at a Newcastle game where they win. Just once. Still, it was nice to be so close to Alan...

Saturday night I babysat my sweetie Trinity Mack and caught up on my weekly does of Kath & Kim. Always a laugh.

I don't remember what we did on Friday night. So this backwards thing doesn't work after all. Shit.

Reading: Moll Flanders, Daniel Defoe (My reading of Twelfth Night ended sharply when it fell off the bedhead and I could not be bothered looking for it) Also reading Romeo & Juliet, William Shakespeare
Listening to: Triple J

* We can't decide if our TWS is actually called a Pergola or a Gazebo so if anyone knows, leave me a comment.


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