Glamour? Anything but...
After writing out the day's entry in the first half of my lunch break, I then managed to lose it all - 'Kapow!' Gone, never to be seen again. And so I sit, ploughing through it again, grumpy and increasing the chances of an onset of RSI within the next 12 months. If I sound narky, that's why.
I went to a charity fashion glamour party last night at Tantra - it was played up to be MASSIVE but was pretty average to tell you the truth. A few of the Big Brother 'stars' (or should I say 'mon-stars') were flitting about trying to appear aloof in their new found 'fame'. I think their time in the spotlight is drawing to a near. After all, the next instalment starts soon. Gawd help us. There was also a smattering of singers (Javine) etc. but honestly, you couldn't see anything through the photographers! I got stuck behind a photographer the size of 3 houses (mansions with extensions more like it) and had to stand a further foot back to escape the pong! The "free cocktails" turned out to be a splash of vodka with a haphazard dash of cheap juice thrown in by a bored barman. This brings me to the biggest let down of the night - the bar and security staff. Talk about a bar full of incompetent tossers - more interested in chatting amongst themselves than earning their wages.
The security looked like stunned mullets and only perked up briefly when Jodie Marsh pranced out in a Gwen Steffani-inspired costume. Pity it wasn't pulled off in the way dear Gwen manages to. Maybe it was the over-zealous pig tails (can they even be over-zealous?!) These bunches were so big they'd make Dumbo's lobes look small.
We left before the fashion parade even started - when my boy won't even eat the canapés you know it's a bad event! Little glistening sausages just don't cut it. When you're used to events with prawns and little vodka shot deserts, dry prehistoric chicken strips just don't go down well. (Not to be picky but honestly, they should know better!!) If budget was a problem they should offer carrot sticks and hummus. Cheap, cheerful and at least the ladies would eat them.
At least my £10 went to charity. I would have donated more but the unpleasant staff left me with a firmly closed purse.
Luckily we didn't run into the arrogant Elvis-wanna be of a doorman. What a walking microcosm for all that is bad in this city. Leery, patronising and so far up his own behind I doubt he's ever seen the light of day. Perhaps that's why he felt the need to wear a pair of sunglasses in the pitch dark. It seemed to be the look of the night. Honestly, I think it's a fashion embraced by the old, the ugly and the drug addicted. I guess it's cheaper than a nip and tuck.
We finally ended up in the 'Slug and Lettuce'. After such a let down at Tantra, the standard mock leather searing was welcome (That's a first). We drank a bottle of wine to heal the hurt of dodgy nibbles (lucky I don't do sausages!!) and got merry far too quickly. The typical erratic driving of a London bus driver kept us awake just long enough to get us home. Seriously, if the formula one industry is on the lookout for new talent they know where to look. The bus drivers here are either maniacs or racing car drivers in denial.
At least the city looks fab at the moment... the Christmas lights are all out along Regent Street. They have the theme of Ice Age... old in itself and slightly tacky when placed smack bang on the lights. I may be a hardened little drama queen but Christmas lights are one thing that melts me every time. Prehistoric animals or not, I love them. I think the light bulbs smattered all over inner London are just so spectacular! Now there's an issue for you - could the money that goes into them be put towards poverty?
If nothing else, they make my little heart skip a beat and remind us that Christmas is COMING!!! Wooohooo!!! It's bloody FREEZING here - winter is coming too. :( Thank gawd I'll be in Oz to get some sun.
Tonight we are off to the Swede's for a home cooked dinner. She won't tell us what's on the menu - just demanded we bring nothing but wine. My guess is something Scandinavian - which will mean gorgeous to look at, even better to scoff, but hard on the hips. I'd say 5 kilos worth of hard. When I stayed with her family on Gotland, her mum cooked up a storm - ALL with some form of cream. Actually, since we're both on hard-core diets tonight may involve more fresh veg than anything! Carrot sticks-a-la carrot sticks. :)
Tomorrow is another dinner party (2 in a row!) at a friend's place. We're going to wine and dine and watch her wedding video. Awwww... visions in white. Last time we were there we got told off for putting our fingers too close to the photos so I'm going to sit tight in the corner! Ha, not a chance! Videos can't be marked with fingerprints so I'm in the clear.
Saturday is sleep in day - I'm under STRICT orders not to get out of bed ‘til 11:00. NO problem there - I need a good night's rest. We've been to shows every night for the last few weeks and it's taking its toll. We left at interval during the play 'You Never Can Tell' on Tuesday because the lad kept falling asleep.
We'll probably go shopping for housey stuff on sat too but then again, I'm broke and dreading going home to Australia with nothing but my passport so maybe not.
I'm LOVING the new flat... we've got it decked out really comfy and funky. I'm loving every second and it's nice to have a 'home'. I've had more baths than I'm sure is recommended by the health and bath department and predict that I'll turn into a prune by Sunday.
On Sunday we're off to the countryside to see 'family' - can't wait! Rambling through the fields reminds me of home. I don't have rubber boots here though so I always end up looking like a grot ball on legs. Mud to my neck this weekend methinks. It’ll save on facemasks I guess! I'll be ratty and hung-over after a mate's housewarming the night before though. Some things never change.
Tomorrow morning I'm interviewing Mark Burton and Pete Sinclair - the writers of a new musical here called 'The Next Big Thing'... they sound like a right pair of larrikins so it should be a good one. Hopefully they don't recognise me as the drunk and very animated journo from last week's press night. I may have some explaining to do...