Monday, January 31, 2005
I went to London for the weekend, childless, and it was lovely! I went on the bus, like I used to when I was 18. I spent a whole year of my late teens travelling to London every other Friday afternoon to visit a boyfriend. Eventually I moved there - and 2 months later the relationship bit the dust. I stayed in London for another couple of years though. Anyway, it really brought back memories making the coach journey.
I met up with my friend Jenni, who moved down there at the end of last summer. On Friday night we went to see Roy Harper at the 100 Club. I hadn't seen Roy for over 10 years! So he'd aged a bit (unlike me) and seemed a wee bit more cynical than I remember him. It was a good gig though, and he played some of my favourite songs.
On Saturday we went to The Albion Gallery for the Andy Goldsworthy exhibition. Now that was worth seeing. The stone tower is incredible. Standing inside a kind of wooden igloo, it seems to defy gravity - very powerful. There is an exhibit made of leaves sewn together with thorns, following the snaky curves that Goldsworthy is fond of. Very intricate. I love the way he captures natural shape and energy with his work. The gallery space is excellent, and standing on the banks of the Thames adds to it for me - big rivers really get to me, all that strength and purpose.
In the evening we headed out for a few drinks at the Barleymow where Jenni had me drink some strawberry beer. Can't say I was that keen though so I switched to London Pride which was slightly better.
Ooh, it was hard dragging myself into consciousness on Sunday morning, despite the best efforts of Jenni's cats. But I managed it in time to get on the bus back to Leeds.
I met up with my friend Jenni, who moved down there at the end of last summer. On Friday night we went to see Roy Harper at the 100 Club. I hadn't seen Roy for over 10 years! So he'd aged a bit (unlike me) and seemed a wee bit more cynical than I remember him. It was a good gig though, and he played some of my favourite songs.
On Saturday we went to The Albion Gallery for the Andy Goldsworthy exhibition. Now that was worth seeing. The stone tower is incredible. Standing inside a kind of wooden igloo, it seems to defy gravity - very powerful. There is an exhibit made of leaves sewn together with thorns, following the snaky curves that Goldsworthy is fond of. Very intricate. I love the way he captures natural shape and energy with his work. The gallery space is excellent, and standing on the banks of the Thames adds to it for me - big rivers really get to me, all that strength and purpose.
In the evening we headed out for a few drinks at the Barleymow where Jenni had me drink some strawberry beer. Can't say I was that keen though so I switched to London Pride which was slightly better.
Ooh, it was hard dragging myself into consciousness on Sunday morning, despite the best efforts of Jenni's cats. But I managed it in time to get on the bus back to Leeds.
Sunday, January 23, 2005
What better way to take the edge off a Sunday hangover than a bit of satire. We went to see Team America: World Police this afternoon, Fungus Kitten and me. Trey Parker's Team America take up saving the world where the Thunderbird's left off. You can't not laugh at the marionettes and there are some very funny lines. There are even cats in it (lovely black ones like my Polly & Esther!). The sex scene was hilarious, but the vomit scene was almost too much for my hangover. One to watch again, methinks, although I'll probably wait 'til it comes out on DVD. There are quite few good films due out over the next few weeks.
Last night I went to the Cockpit for a bit of a dance. We were planning to go to Automatic at the Think Tank, but it was closed - seems the BBC Leeds website's listing is a little out of date. We had a really good night and did lots of dancing to indie pop, and stuff I used to dance to 20 years ago. Aargh, I feel old. We were hoping for a good range of ages in the club but although there were a few people over 30 there, it was mostly late teens and early 20s. Not the best place to meet new men, then.
I don't often go out so late - it was getting on for 3am when we left the club - and I was amazed at how busy the city centre is in the early hours now. There were people everywhere, a man pissing in every other doorway. So many more bars and clubs than when I was a regular night owl!
Last night I went to the Cockpit for a bit of a dance. We were planning to go to Automatic at the Think Tank, but it was closed - seems the BBC Leeds website's listing is a little out of date. We had a really good night and did lots of dancing to indie pop, and stuff I used to dance to 20 years ago. Aargh, I feel old. We were hoping for a good range of ages in the club but although there were a few people over 30 there, it was mostly late teens and early 20s. Not the best place to meet new men, then.
I don't often go out so late - it was getting on for 3am when we left the club - and I was amazed at how busy the city centre is in the early hours now. There were people everywhere, a man pissing in every other doorway. So many more bars and clubs than when I was a regular night owl!
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Supermarkets. They'll be the death of me.
I'm not talking about the noxious processed food they sell, because I buy very little of it and if you look hard enough you can find organic and fairly traded products. And I'm not talking about the CO2 emmissions produced transporting the goods because at the rate I'm going I won't be around long enough for global warming to have too much impact on me. No. What I'm talking about is my death due to having my head caved in my a frozen leg of lamb after I vent my supermarket rage on the Wrong Person. The temptation to shove someone out of the way with my basket is becoming harder to resist on the rare occasions when I venture into the supermarket after work, when I have to battle my way through hordes of people who are unable to shop without calling friends and family on their mobile phones for advice and guidance on what type of cheese to buy, what flavour crisps, how many sausages. Whatever happened to using their initiative? Is decision making a dying skill? When folk are chatting on their phones they are oblivious to those frustrated people around them who are vainly attempting to reach the organic broccoli, they are completely unaware of the tempers simmering behind them.
Please, in the interests of avoiding making FK an orphan, please, please TURN OFF YOUR MOBILE before entering the supermarket!
I'm not talking about the noxious processed food they sell, because I buy very little of it and if you look hard enough you can find organic and fairly traded products. And I'm not talking about the CO2 emmissions produced transporting the goods because at the rate I'm going I won't be around long enough for global warming to have too much impact on me. No. What I'm talking about is my death due to having my head caved in my a frozen leg of lamb after I vent my supermarket rage on the Wrong Person. The temptation to shove someone out of the way with my basket is becoming harder to resist on the rare occasions when I venture into the supermarket after work, when I have to battle my way through hordes of people who are unable to shop without calling friends and family on their mobile phones for advice and guidance on what type of cheese to buy, what flavour crisps, how many sausages. Whatever happened to using their initiative? Is decision making a dying skill? When folk are chatting on their phones they are oblivious to those frustrated people around them who are vainly attempting to reach the organic broccoli, they are completely unaware of the tempers simmering behind them.
Please, in the interests of avoiding making FK an orphan, please, please TURN OFF YOUR MOBILE before entering the supermarket!
The War of Don Emmanuel's Nether Parts by Louis de Bernieres
Set in Columbia, this novel follows the lives of a variety of characters – peasants, Indians, soldiers, guerrillas, aristocrats and politicians. Their paths cross, their actions have consequences that affect many others. A bit like real life I suppose. But the events take place in the realm of magical realism, so cause and effect don’t follow the usual rules. Here anything can happen, and frequently does!
Although I found the style a little verbose to begin with, I was soon won over by the narrative, which transported me to a colourful and lively Colombian village. I was captivated.
De Bernieres describes a society full of humour and passion, but also of hardship and horror. There is corruption and torture, and there were chapters that were extremely uncomfortable reading. But alongside that was optimism and a people determined to wring every last drop of life out of their lot.
De Bernieres doesn’t flinch from writing of the dark side of human nature, and displays an astute awareness of the political realities of South America making this book as informative as it was entertaining.
Set in Columbia, this novel follows the lives of a variety of characters – peasants, Indians, soldiers, guerrillas, aristocrats and politicians. Their paths cross, their actions have consequences that affect many others. A bit like real life I suppose. But the events take place in the realm of magical realism, so cause and effect don’t follow the usual rules. Here anything can happen, and frequently does!
Although I found the style a little verbose to begin with, I was soon won over by the narrative, which transported me to a colourful and lively Colombian village. I was captivated.
De Bernieres describes a society full of humour and passion, but also of hardship and horror. There is corruption and torture, and there were chapters that were extremely uncomfortable reading. But alongside that was optimism and a people determined to wring every last drop of life out of their lot.
De Bernieres doesn’t flinch from writing of the dark side of human nature, and displays an astute awareness of the political realities of South America making this book as informative as it was entertaining.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Last weekend I read Cat Confidential by Vicky Halls, an excellent guide to living with cats and keeping them happy - not that I was having problems with my little darlings, but knowledge is usually a good thing. As a result, yesterday I bought the cats one of these multi-storey scratching posts. They spent the evening playing with the cardboard box it came in.
Monday, January 10, 2005
Esther's operation went well. By the time I got her home in the evening she was ravenous and very very bouncy. She's been extra cuddly too. You really can never tell with cats.
I've been watching Channel 4's "War on Terra" season. Scary stuff. There wasn't anything there that I didn't already know, but they still managed to chill me. Tonight's programme - "What would Jesus drive?" had me shaking my head in horror at the Hummer drivers who think they'll be ok if their vehicle is big enough. What is the matter with these people? And the Cadillac guys who know they are destroying the planet but don't seem to care.
Actually, I do think we are doomed. The point of no return for our planet's atmosphere will come within the next couple of decades. It will be the end of the world as we know it. On tonight's programme somebody said that plants like CO2 - so thats alright then.
I'm lost for words.
So I'll stick to reading and reviewing for today.
Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood
Set in a not-too-distant future, ‘Oryx and Crake’ is the story of Jimmy alias Snowman as he struggles to survive in the aftermath of the destruction of the world he has known.
Atwood imagines a society built upon gene splicing – just a few steps on from Monsanto’s Roundup Ready Soya beans – a nightmare of greed, a worst-case scenario of technology serving vanity. Snowman’s plight is utterly compelling – his world is close enough to ours, familiar enough for us to recognise the dangers he (and us) faces.
As Snowman narrates his life and his part in the events leading up to the catastrophe that has destroyed the world - we are kept guessing as to what that disaster was until close to the end of the book – Atwood raise issues about the human propensity to play god. Snowman hints at environmental disasters and changes that are never made explicit – but it should be plain enough to any reader that the problems we currently face due to climate change have already had major consequences in the novel’s future world.
In ‘Oryx and Crake’ Atwood (as always) writes with clarity and perception, weaving a chilling tale that can’t fail to make you shiver.
Actually, I do think we are doomed. The point of no return for our planet's atmosphere will come within the next couple of decades. It will be the end of the world as we know it. On tonight's programme somebody said that plants like CO2 - so thats alright then.
I'm lost for words.
So I'll stick to reading and reviewing for today.
Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood
Set in a not-too-distant future, ‘Oryx and Crake’ is the story of Jimmy alias Snowman as he struggles to survive in the aftermath of the destruction of the world he has known.
Atwood imagines a society built upon gene splicing – just a few steps on from Monsanto’s Roundup Ready Soya beans – a nightmare of greed, a worst-case scenario of technology serving vanity. Snowman’s plight is utterly compelling – his world is close enough to ours, familiar enough for us to recognise the dangers he (and us) faces.
As Snowman narrates his life and his part in the events leading up to the catastrophe that has destroyed the world - we are kept guessing as to what that disaster was until close to the end of the book – Atwood raise issues about the human propensity to play god. Snowman hints at environmental disasters and changes that are never made explicit – but it should be plain enough to any reader that the problems we currently face due to climate change have already had major consequences in the novel’s future world.
In ‘Oryx and Crake’ Atwood (as always) writes with clarity and perception, weaving a chilling tale that can’t fail to make you shiver.
Friday, January 07, 2005
I'm taking Esther to the vet this morning. Now that she is 6 months old it's time for her to say goodbye to her ovaries. This means she hasn't been allowed any breakfast so she's very hungry and is currently climbing all over me, purring. Aww!
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Pink should only be seen in sunsets and flowers. And NOT on clothes, shoes and handbags.
This is my crusade for 2005.
This is my crusade for 2005.
