As time Flies by we seem to get busier and busier. We have been at work for a whole 3 weeks so far, feels more like 3 days but that might just be me. I have been put in charge of the project I was working on, and the fellow I was working with resigned the next day, what is it with me and taking over projects, its the second time so far and Im counting, so if I end up getting a a job working with you, watch out!
I was intending on climbing those corporate ladders while im here but claiming my first scalp in a week and a day, remembering I had to have a day off because of illness, is a little more than I was expecting.
Speaking of illness it has been reported that the tube is dirtier to touch than most week old toilets, so no wonder both Jane and I got sick, dirty northern hemisphere germs all over the place, not to mention the locals penchant for sneezing, coughing, spitting and I think a guy behind me on one train trip was having a pee, without using their hands, a hankee or even turning their heads away from your face, its no wonder we fell ill, and that the medical system is in a shambles over here, its not underfunded but more overrun with unecessary sickness. You can buy tissues treated with bug killing chemicals which claim to kill 99.9 percent of winter bugs, pitty nobody buys them!
Dog poo, well I hope it was dog poo, as judging by the spitting etc mentioned above and littering and general care-less attitude of locals and the like it could just be what we are all thinking but not game to say, I have not seen anymore than 3 dogs on leashes but inordanately more poo than 3 dogs can create, has been a main topic of concern for both me and Jane this month. As our walking has increased with the slightly better weather and of course the whole walking to and from the numerouse train stations we frequent each week we are confronted by it everywhere, at this stage we have managed to avoid the ultimate in yuckiness but the time will come when we too will fall victim to the slippery slope that is a foot in a poo encounter. Needless to say i wont be happy.
Not happy was also how I was described as we set off for lunch with Sarah, Andras and Bel (sarah stayed with Jane and I for 6 weeks or so a while back in Aus. We met up with her, her boyfriend and a mutual friend for lunch just a short stroll from Covent garden. An that said short stroll we happened upon a pedestrian crossing, full of people and children ( I deliberately differentiate between the two) A taxi driver decided that he didnt have to stop as I entered the crossing, I jumped back and gesticulated my surprise with opened arms and a small oi style shreak, his response of the single finger salute made me quite unhappy… so I punched his taxi. I always though glass would be quite hard but there was a degree of flex there, perhaps it was the cab falling apart, who knows. But what I do know was jane was mad at me, and all the people around went ooohhhh did you see what he just did. Surprisingly, even though I was the victim here!, they also had to scurry out of mr Im too important to stop taxi driver, they considered me to be in the wrong. I guess i should have let him hit me to prove my point. I find that Im becomeing a more militant pedestrian, If I was an eight year old Londoner, I would probably have shot someone by now.
Of course 8 year old Londoners rule the streets these days. The newspapers are full of stories of gun toting pre teens roming the street in gangs of peers poping caps in peoples asses. Its hard to take the little punks seriously though. At lunch for dave and sals birthdays (only 2 days apart and being the people we stayed with when we arrived) over in hackney at a loverly gastro pub (gastro being food not disease), lunch was proceeding well when a aformentioned gang of pre pubescent toughs peered into the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the score of the days big game (soccer for all you aussies) As we were in a classy joint there was no large TV displaying the deeds and outcomes of a bunch of overpaid, big short wearing fancy boys (football players) so the little lads to be started banging on the window demanding the score from any of the bemused, but admittedly slightly concerned adults. None of which could care or knew for that matter. They got angrier and angrier and i think one actually hit premature puberty as a vein began to burst through his bald little head. ( if it wasnt for every court in the land sending me to prison for the act) I may have chased, hunted and beat the little punk up for the fun of it they were that rude and abnoxious, but fortunately Jane, the voice of reason was undoubtedly the louder character talking in my ear. The cheek I say.
Speaking of cheeks… well I cant actually but I heve been doing so well on the segue I thought Id keep it going. But I cant so onto the Barbican. A while ago Jane and I watched a documentary on the architectural movement of new brutalism, A style of architecture earning the buildings built under the movement the nick name of carbuncles. Identifyable by solid sculpural forms, repetition of that form and a city within a city planning regime with walkways, raised and lowered courtyards, differing size and scale buildings and all made from a single material, usually concrete, more than likely scabbled or rough cast. Anyway, we decided to get off the train one afternoon and visit the aLVAR ALTO EXHIBITION AT THE bARBICAN Center ( I do not like british keyboards shift key, its in the wrong spot and half the size it should be and I always miss it and either hit the \ or the caps lock key sorry but its staying that way!!!!) Of course the Barbican has its own arts world with cinemas a concert theatre, art galleries and an interactive gallery space, and hosted the exhibition on Alto as seen through the eyes of Shiguru Ban, another sortof famouse architect who likes to build with cardboard tubes… The exhibition was very informative if not a little expensive at 12 pounds per head (not to mention on the following monday we learnt the office is going there and paying for everyone… oh well)
But the Barbican can also be cheap, another 12 pounds saw us at the theatre last night, we saw the bull by some irish company of modern/contemporary dancers… yes they fell onto the ground alot like all modern dance, I mean ballerinas are trained to stay on their feet and do so with grace and style and tootoos toooo, but modern dancers must not be as well trained, ther wryth and wiggle and fall over alot, there was even a naked dude acting as harry the dog, wobbly bits and all. But in saying that it was very interesting play/dance/production with the stage being covered in dirt, sprayed with real wet water (pitty to those in the front row suckers… bet they paid like 26 pounds for their seat, probably ordered them a millenium ago hahahhahhah) a beautifull counter-tenor operatic singer which added something special. The language was vulgar the concepts were well beyond those street gangs, and there was a nude dude acting as harry the dog, I know hes been mentioned before but hes was a nude dude acting as harry the dog! It was a great day roaming the city, from liverpool street/ spitalfields markets to old street, visiting daniel defo and william blakes grave (authors of robinson crusoe and paradise lost and a generally gnarly artist and poet) to droping into the Barbican, buying tickets at the door, rushing through a great mushroom risoto across the road at an italian restraunt and seeing the show, then on the way home sucesfully identifying an iminant full eclipse of the moon and watching the moon turn a redish red?? in our undies from our juliet balcony as the night turned to early morning. Oh you should have been there.
Of course today is raining so we thought we should let you all know whats going on (yesterday was a mild 13 degree day) At this stage we havent got a phone line, mhen I was discussing it with the agent somehow we enede up with more furniture, an electricity account, reduced liability on the electrical goods supllied by the owner and a copy of the inspection shets but no phone line. Ill call him again next week when I get around to fixing our banks stuff up number 18 and confirming rental payment, I might ask for world peace and a pony and if we are luck they might fork out for the phone connection. But it just goes to show how cheap the furniture must bee if instead of paying for the phone connection like they have for 75 of the 130 flats, they prefer to shower us with bribes inthe form of a coffee table, side board chest of drawers and another wardrobe… go figure. The bed is better by the way, we turned the matress up side down and it must now be the right way up, though in our defence there are no labels or defining features that are visible. oh well we are sleeping better!
anyway this may take you a coulpe of minutes to read so I had better not waste any more of your time so see-you-by