I have the pleasure to report that Lyn's plan yesterday worked really well. She got in last night bubbling with joy having been to an apparently awesome David Gilmore concert. She had met up with Libby, whom we had met at the Waterboys concert, and they had had a great time. This morning practically the first words out of here were that she now plans to have plenty more outings like last night's. It's great to see her confidence so renewed of course, although I just hope she won't forget about me!
Mind you, if her latest awesome music video is anything to go by (and please go buy it!) pretty soon she won't just be watching gigs but performing them herself.
I can barely believe that today marks a year since I met Sir Patrick Stewart. I still think of that five to ten minutes or so as the single most special moments of my life. As a star Trek fan, I was meeting one off my all-time favourite characters; not only that, that moment marked the end of my masters - the climax of seven years work, an end point more special to me than the graduation ceremony, in a way. It felt like a reward - a great one. Right now, sat here writing this, the past year seems to have flown by, and I still vividly remember walking away from the Excel Centre, as happy as I ever could be. For I had just met Sr Patrick Stewart - Captain Picard himself - shaken his hand, told him about writing about the Ahab Scene; and he had congratulated me on the academic achievement I'm proudest of. I will always treasure that memory.
[Edited Yesterday at 09:44:40 - added a bit]
I frequently go all over the place in my chair. As I often mention on here, I often go off on my own, exploring the city like some weird hybrid of Baudelaire and Timmy from South Park. When I do, Lyn usually stays home, happy to let me go wandering while she gets on with some work. I often feel a bit guilty about leaving her here, especially when I go to cool places or to gigs. Well, tonight it's L's turn: she's off to a David Gilmore concert. I would naturally have gone with her, only there was just one ticket left. I hope she has a great time - you should see the shade of vivid pink she dyed her hair yesterday, especially for the show. Lyn will travel alone, and plans to meet a few friends of ours once there, then take a taxi back after the gig. While I am sure she she will be fine - after all, lyn is a very independent person, well used to travelling on her own - I can't help but feel nervous. For once lyn will be the one out in the city, and I'll be them one at home quietly worrying, hoping everything is going okay.
[Edited Yesterday at 09:37:49 - minor correction]
When I was very small, I used to love playing with play-doh. Mum used to make it, and I used to have hours of fun creating a hell of a mess on our kitchen table. I suppose it was a way to get my hands working. I haven't really thought about it since then, but I just found this rather cool little article on the bbc website: London-based artist Elanor Macnair has recreated several famous portraits and art-works using play-doh. It amuses me that something most people used as infants for fun is now being used as an artistic medium; the very stuff I made such a mess with when I was four or five I now used to create beauty. That is, in large part, the point, of course: Macnair intends her work to be a comment on art in general; but for someone who was given play-doh as a child as a type of therapy, this story has a certain extra irony.
Yesterday we heard that, while in Jamaica, CaMoron refused to apologise or give compensation for slavery. When I heard that, I tutted and thought, 'Of course DavidCameron wouldn't apologise for slavery; tories like him probably still secretly lament it's abolition.' At first I thought I was being facetious, but then I came across this Guardian article this morning: CaMoron has Caribbean slave-owners in his family background, and the CaMoron family fortune was built on the backs of enslaved african people. I know nobody can be held responsible for the misdeeds of their ancestors, but the way CaMoron glossed over the fact yesterday as if it does not matter leads me to think he doesn't regret it one iota. Hell, he probably thinks that dark period of british history was a glorious enlightenment, the toffy scumbag. Do we really think this p'tahk is fit to run our country?