Jubilee fever is here - at least for parents of small-ish children: Kitsch, Women's Institute, Dressing up and crown making competitions.
Of course a lovely, extra long weekend, and street parties everywhere - and the fabulous Thames flotilla! Up with the Monarchy - more weddings, jubilees and public holidays. 
True, I don't have any employees except myself, but I pay myself a pittance and deserve a party- besides, I'm (selectively) Keynesian - I think that means spend your way out of a recession, and this is certainly costing a packet.


Even my Southern Irish, staunch Republican (stress Irish Republic - NOTHING to do with US politics) ex is getting excited. How can you not, unless you are really miserable? Reckon I'd be excited even without the mini-Moo.


Obviously the sun has gone away, as you'd expect living in Blighty,but we've all got anoraks. One more day of work (yep, still on the IT slog and back on furtive night-time writing, between 'proper' work, life and sleep), but this weekend it all gets parked.

Didn't see the sky for 5 weeks, 6? Now the sun's out, blue skies and wonderfully scorching. The lobsters are appearing and people are already complaining about the heat - British summer time, or thereabouts.

Does this moaning just happen in England, as per the stereotype? Last week, everyone was bitching about the rain and the cold - me most vocally. The sun's out 5 minutes and I swear I overheard 2 groups of women moaning about the temperature.
"I've had enough of this sun, I'm not going in it no more." In fairness she had red hair and was truly lobster-like so she's probably right.
No excuse for the others though - are we truly such a miserable, moany nation?
"Shut it!" That's what I (quietly) replied, adding my own moaning to the general apparent misery.

So tonight, Twitter's #WobblyWayne, #WobblyWachel and I went to see The Smyths - a Smiths tribute band., and boy do I feel old! The 40+ audiences were unmoved - chitty-chattering as the band started :
"Dead easy getting here - parked up and got the tube"
"Ooh, good idea."
"Yeah, result."
Didn't approve of the volume:
"It's loud, isn't it?"
They went through the motions:"What's your favourite album?" (always a worrying direction)
 I'm not entirely sure they were Smiths fans in the first place:
"I could do with a seat..."
And before the end :
"We're gonna head off now, make sure we get our train..."
"Yeah, miss the rush"

Still, the Smyths weren't very good - I loved The Smiths. Johnny Marr is a genius. I adore Morrissey. But as the real thing isn't available I have a large tolerence for a cover band... but they were crap! Maybe that was why, rather than the vintage of the audience? Either that or I'm suddenly immensely old.

I watched this odd program last night, 'Touched', with Keifer Sutherland, and it struck me he'd be exhausting to date. He's always running! He's finished 24, and now he's running around again. 

You'd got for coffee and he'd be jiggling about, unable to sit still - he probably greets a Sunday morning with a run - not a jog, a full blown, flat out run. He'd have to, to keep fit for TV.
Unless of course he's been typecast? Maybe he's really pissed off at his agent...
KS: "Can you please stop with all this running? I'm knackered."
Agent: "Sorry mate, that's what they want."


Poor guy! He just wants a fag and a beer on a Saturday night, and he's got to get up and run the next morning.

Bored of politics now and my tongue is so firmly in my cheek it's beginning to ache. Besides, I haven't a clue what I'm on about.

Sent  2 emails to agencies over the weekend, requesting they look at my work. There are a couple I need to 'write to', as in a letter, which is a faff! But I shall. Also, several don't accept attachments for fear of viruses... hmm, I'm not going to send an executable and that is what anti-virus is for. Still trying to work out what that means from an agency, but beggars... IT hat there, which is just as well as today I'm back in IT land. A bit of proper work to fund my impoverished artist life!

Considering deleting my comments, in case any of said agencies actually look on my website! But I shan't! I might be a beggar, but I am also a geek

Booked my holiday to Greece - straddling the next elections (well, every week has a Tuesday... every month an election as they say). Picturing a long wait at Athens rather beautiful but perhaps overly extravagant airport, or a long wait for a ferry due to industrial action but hopefully no rioting... and wondering if I will get my comeuppance for making light of Greece's plight? 

To avoid delays I shall try to appease the Fates with a helpful suggestion to Greece: Greek industry should relocate their HQ's  to the UK if they do leave the Euro: No taxes here either for big - sorry - 'multinational' business, and (thanks to our incoming austerity measures), we'll be a stable base any second now.

Ah ha! This politics and economics business is easy - bring on the next challenge and I'll fix it in my new 'clinic' blag.

Bloody love (and also hate) Shameless, but I stumbled on State of Play on Catchup tv - great story, great characters and of course, a fabulous cast. 
Paul Abbot's my new fave writer (sorry Russel T Davies, I do still love watching Doc Who with the wee one). 

I'm quite enjoying ranting about politics in my blag! I shall become a nasty, grumpy old woman I've decided, the type kids run away from.
Today - houses! In the context of business, a verbal contract is followed by a legally binding contract and money is exchanged. In house-sale-land, you trawl through rubbish houses, finally find a lovely house - put in an offer, spend a fortune on surveys and then your chain collapses or you're gazumped! 
Politicians have so many pledges on their manifestos that they completely ignore post election, so we should trim the system! 1 pledge, and if you fail to deliver, you're out. 
I propose a House Party (love them, me), whose only remit is to reform the property laws, in line with Scotland I should think.  Welfare (I'm not going to pun that one - except it isn't... ahem), Healthcare and  Education  are knackered anyway (oh, don't get me started on catchment areas for schools), so give up the pretense of trying to fix them.

Job's a good 'un

A friend is considering asking for a bonus for working during the Olympics. No, she's not remotely connected to the games, but she has a point! Imagine a job that not only pays overtime (I've never had one of them), but pays bonuses if you turn up for work when it's busy? Seriously considering jacking in the writing and driving a bus.

OK, not seriously. 

Lacking the Evening Standard, or even the Metro, I logged onto the Beeb for unrelenting depression:

• The Beeb today reports that "Rise in tuition fees 'did not boost teaching time'". Queue the government acting surprised, after all, they implemented a sound, well executed fees structure to ensure English 'yoof' are on an equal, educational footing with our global counterparts...
  
• The Queen of Spain is having a hissy fit over Gibraltar. That's gotta be good, right? A brief flurry with Argentina over the Falklands, what 'we' need is an external enemy so we forget we're up shit creek domestically.
  
• Euro's big too, what with Greece... and Portugal... and Italy ... er, France. Oops. Old Cameron's loving it; we're not in the Euro and he's safeguarding our future so Yippee for the Brits!
  
• Council flats are being emptied en-masse in central London, tenants moved to 'Nam (Dagenham, not the other, historical war zone) - I'm not sure if this is Olympics related, or a precursor to more privatisation? 
  

I should become a political writer, along the lines of Private Eye, only without the depth of knowledge or understanding and startling insight.