Thursday, 7 April 2011

The meaning of life

In appropriate behaviour seems to be the order of the day. On Monday we saw Greg Davies (the teacher in Inbetweeners...a wholly inappropriate comedy if ever there was one) live in his Firing Cheeseballs at a dog stand up routine. His mother told him that she HAD given a blowjob...just not to his Dad. Uuurgh. And last night the mother in Submarine told her son that she'd given the mystic a handjob. It all seems wrong to me.

Evidently it's not enough to be happy...we've also got to have 'meaning' and 'justice'. That's all a bit unfortunate as our beloved government is about to launch the UK happiness index. I may be wrong, but if I have meaning and justice then I will generally be happy, so I'm not sure what the problem is, other than Cameron wants us to walk around zombie-like with a big grin on our face irrespective of all the crap that's going on around us. Depressingly, it's been reported that money worries make us depressed. Really??? No, really??? No shit Shilock (or is it Sherlock?). Yep that's the news on the BBC today. Fortunately they also report that retail therapy makes us happy...umm not good if you've got money worries, where heading to the high street for a bit of retail therapy will only make you unhappier when the bills role in. I should mention this piece of research only refers to over 65s living in Taiwan. Dang with all the 'news' going on I'm amazed that a respectable news organisation is giving over space to this sort of tosh.

In the real world, it's no fun at the moment. The Japanese are pumping radioactive water into the sea so they can store the really nasty stuff. That may be the lesser of two evils, but it's still an evil. Rumour has it that Yo Sushi will be saving electricity by turning all the lights off as the food will be glowing when it's served.

In Libya, its back and forth, back and forth. Millions of pounds and £s worth of munitions are being spent trying to dislodge Gadaffi who has apparently sent Obama a three page letter asking for a ceasefire. He should know by now that Obama is of the Twitter generation so a Tweet would probably work better.

And in the Ivorian Coast, it looks as though it's all over bar the shooting. They've been plucking ambassadors out of the war zone left, right and centre. I just wonder whether this country will get the stability it needs.

And back in Nota Bene world, in the absence of the two teen terrors who may well be water skiing rather than on the snow this week, we've had more changes at the office. Moving in is a company whose business is sorting out film locations in London. How very, very exciting is that. I'm not getting a lot of work done as I'm permanently earwigging what they're up to. Already we've had Michelle Pfeifer in Southwark, Tim Burton in South London, The Arctic Monkeys doing a video...and so on and on and on. I fully intend to make the most of it.

In the meantime, if you get the chance to go and see Submarine, do...brilliant and rewarding film which well deserves your support and enthusiasm. It left me feeling happy, had meaning and justice was done at the end.

Wednesday, 6 April 2011

It's all about me

If it's good enough for Nick Clegg, it's good enough for me. This week I've a work experience lad in the office. He's studying 'media' and needed a week's work. He's the son of one of The Cat's Mother's oldest friends so I said yes. I had no choice. And a jolly nice lad he is too. So aside from making the coffee, doing the photocopying, taking my dry cleaning to the laundry I'm a bit stuck for things for him to do. Any suggestions gratefully received.

Equally, come the sumer holidays The Boy needs a week in a job for experiential purposes. It's a struggle finding anything, so if you've got any contacts who might need a handsome, enthusiastic lad to run around for a week, I know the perfect candidate.

Well doesn't time fly when you're enjoying yourself? It must be fun in the Presidential Residence of Laurent Gbagbo this morning. I can't help feeling that the Ivorian political situation has been seen so many times over the last fifty years that we should all be questioning why so many African states can't escape the vicious cycle of failed democracy, corruption and endless economic stagnation or decline. Thank heavens the UN and The French have decided to take their lead from Mr Tony Blair and stick their collective noses in wherever and whenever they can.

I realise that its now a couple of weeks since Auntie Gwen tagged me to do a meme...she'll think I'm ignoring her which is just not true. Anyway, to save me the trouble of tagging three more people...can you just please use your initiative and give it a whirl?!

Here we go:

Three names I go by: Dad (you guessed that), Nota Bene (you know that), Nick (you didn't know that). But NEVER, EVER Keith...I even had it removed from my passport

Three places I’ve lived: Brighton (Hove actually), London (all over), and Epping Forest. But NEVER, EVER Essex...I don't have a pair of stilettos. The only way is not Essex

Three places I’ve worked: Oh I've had so many jobs....nearly all in PR (sadly). I started in Coventry (when there was a company called Rover in existence), before working in Worthing (yay, by the coast, boo, everyone there is ready to die, even if they're only 25) and I'm glad I've spent so long working in London...but I can't wait until I don't have to

Three things I love to watch: Films....not quite any film, but I'm very liberal in my tastes. The sea...especially when it's windy and the waves are as tall as houses...I never tire of it; kitesurfing...fascinating. Rarely, if ever, television...it just doesn't seem to be part of my life

Three places I have been & love: Brighton...I have to include my favourite city. Oberjoch...it's in the Bavarian Alps, and I spent a summer working there as a student. The Boy and I went back a couple of years ago, and it's just as brilliant now as it was then. Iceland...have been there twice. It is just beautiful. But I wouldn't want to live there

Three people that email me regularly: Mr and Mrs Spam..yep I get loads and loads and loads. Admittedly some of it is newsletters I signed up for years ago, but there still seems a lot that I don't want. An ex-fiance (no I don't have a collection, I should say THE ex-fiance)...we keep in regular contact. I generally get on well with my ex's, but I'm always glad they are ex's. Olive, a distant relative, who sends those witty jokes that make us all roll around on the floor laughing. Actually I don't get enough friendly e-mails, so please fell free to e-mail me regularly

Three things I love to eat: marshmallows - I can eat a whole bag in one sitting; buffalo or was it bison? I had it once and can still taste it; American Hot with extra olives from Pizza Express - I've been eating it for twenty five years and see no reason to stop. But never, ever tripe - Grandma in Cyprus used to feed raw tripe to the dogs when I was young and I can still smell it thirty five years later

Three things I am looking forward to: Christmas. I had a rubbish Christmas last year, stuck in bed with nasty flu, missing out on all the celebrations. I love the Christmas holiday...the least stressful part of my year. It can't come round soon enough. Going to Cyprus to visit Grandma in Cyprus...it's been a real shame that we couldn't do it this week, especially as she's not on top form at the moment. A special treat I've organised for The Cat's Mother. I can't tell you what it is; it would spoil the surprise. But definitely NOT my next birthday. It's a biggie. And everyone is more excited than me.

Tuesday, 5 April 2011

Holiday head

Have you ever had that feeling that someone is shitting on you from a great height? I've spent most of my life thinking that, even though it's entirely unreasonable bearing in mind that by many people's standards I've done quite well, and if you compare my lot to most of the world's population, then I've had a very good life indeed. But as you know, I don't like to be proved wrong...indeed I revel in being right. Indeed I have been proved right. Walking along the North Laine in Brighton this week, there was shit on my head dropped from a great height.



I know it's supposed to be lucky, but really, HOW?

Saturday morning, four o'clock in the morning The Cat and The Boy went off skiing with the school, so The Cat's Mother and I took a few days in Brighton to enjoy the see air. The drive down was glorious as the sun rose behind us as we arrived at the sea. There are some things that just make life worth living and that is one of them.

We had planned to go abroad and soak yup the sun, but our destination was always going to be middle-eastern (so we could drop in on Grandma in Cyprus on the way), but the more we thought about it, the less sensible it seemed. And with things hotting up in Libya, Gadaffi's response is likely to get less and less reasonable...and don't forget he's been known to blow a passenger plane out of the sky on Lockerbie...so we thought flying across the Mediterranean was not the sensible option. Not that there's anything wrong with Brighton anyway, it's just that it would have been nice to get to Cyprus. Later in the year.

In the meantime, most of the snow seems to have melted in France. That hasn't stopped The Teens enjoying themselves. They haven't reported back about the skiing, but we have been updated about some of the evening revelries (not sure how much supervision the teachers are doing...).

A text from The Boy said, "Oh. The Kat wasn't feeling well. Dehydrated, headache, stomach. Unrelated to last night's happy hour;)"

A wee while later, The Kat texted, "I just felt really sick. Woke up at 2 and the nausea didn't go away till 3.30 :( It came back when I woke up. I don't think I'll drink tonight. The wine is cheap and disgusting anyway. I think it was too much sun yesterday."

Yes, we all think it was too much sun yesterday...don't we...