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Not Sleeping, Only Dead
Jul. 29th, 2007 08:11 pmI've been, if not quite back to the old house, then just over the wall for it - back outside Southwell with the Southwell crew, and if the route there has changed a bit (with junctions fresh from Mega City One), and if Nottingham's changed a bit (they now have a pub called The Canal House which actually has the canal running into the pub), and if we've all changed a bit (sensible hair, careers or just extra lines), it still felt like we were just a whisker away from our past, almost close enough to touch our old selves. Although, we always used to say that only abstract nouns got broken at those parties, whereas this time poor ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vivid_blue somehow contrived to both break *and* dislocate her ankle, something I hadn't even believed to be possible. Ouch. But aside from that, a splendid trip, a fine wedding (with me on Nick Cave duties again), and a lovely house (Bag End for the 21st century, with ducks). Plus such other incidental delights as rabbits, butterflies, being twice taken for a third Hewings brother (like the third Summers brother, but with fringes instead of energy blasts), discovering I'm actually better (rather, less awful) at Grand Theft Auto when I'm asleep, and accepting that Scott Pilgrim totally justifies the hype. Oh, and the temporary terror of the street where both sides were even numbers - and the same even numbers at that,
It seems far further from here to Thursday than it does to those old parties, but yes, I went to see Paris Motel. The Good Ship wasn't quite as suited to their ghosts-across-the-delta sound as the Borderline, and I kept headbutting the fixtures by mistake, but they're still wonderful. The band, I mean, not the fixtures - those were moderately painful.
Will Ferrell has already got the film rights to King Dork by Frank Portman, and I can totally see why; it's hilarious. Think along the lines of Napoleon Dynamite but with more rock'n'roll plus a detective story of sorts. I don't usually go much for American teen novels, but I was laughing my head off at this one - which is very handy on long train journeys vis-a-vis keeping the seat next to you empty, so it was ideal for the trip.
edit: I really want to write about the tent - specifically the bit where we thought it was inside out, disassembled it, reassembled it inside out, and realised we'd had it right the first time after all - but Jerome K Jerome handles that material so much better. Which itself reminds me, Ogden Nash edited a Wodehouse anthology - who knew?
vivid_blue somehow contrived to both break *and* dislocate her ankle, something I hadn't even believed to be possible. Ouch. But aside from that, a splendid trip, a fine wedding (with me on Nick Cave duties again), and a lovely house (Bag End for the 21st century, with ducks). Plus such other incidental delights as rabbits, butterflies, being twice taken for a third Hewings brother (like the third Summers brother, but with fringes instead of energy blasts), discovering I'm actually better (rather, less awful) at Grand Theft Auto when I'm asleep, and accepting that Scott Pilgrim totally justifies the hype. Oh, and the temporary terror of the street where both sides were even numbers - and the same even numbers at that,It seems far further from here to Thursday than it does to those old parties, but yes, I went to see Paris Motel. The Good Ship wasn't quite as suited to their ghosts-across-the-delta sound as the Borderline, and I kept headbutting the fixtures by mistake, but they're still wonderful. The band, I mean, not the fixtures - those were moderately painful.
Will Ferrell has already got the film rights to King Dork by Frank Portman, and I can totally see why; it's hilarious. Think along the lines of Napoleon Dynamite but with more rock'n'roll plus a detective story of sorts. I don't usually go much for American teen novels, but I was laughing my head off at this one - which is very handy on long train journeys vis-a-vis keeping the seat next to you empty, so it was ideal for the trip.
edit: I really want to write about the tent - specifically the bit where we thought it was inside out, disassembled it, reassembled it inside out, and realised we'd had it right the first time after all - but Jerome K Jerome handles that material so much better. Which itself reminds me, Ogden Nash edited a Wodehouse anthology - who knew?
