Pynchon

Not much to write.

Saturday, Lorraine decided to crash my day. She said that her chores could wait. I didn't mind. We don't do a lot together at the weekends these days, which is something that I would like to change. There was a time when we were joined at the hip at the weekends.

Not that this weekend we did anything particularly interesting. Food shopping, a trip to B & Q to look at plastic sheds and flowers, and then some gardening. We watched "Doctor Who" (Absolutely fantastic. The whole "You can choose to spend your life with me, but I cannot choose to spend my life with you" was quite powerful stuff for a supposed kids series, and did you get tearful when K-9 turned all heroic? You didn't? Your soul is dead!) and then I suffered through "Miss Congeniality 2 - Pile Of Poo" (Lorraine said she liked it, but probably only to annoy me).

Today Lorraine was on a marathon session at the hairdressers, so I cleaned the entire house and went to see "Freedomland" starring the mighty Samuel L. Jackson and Julianne Moore.



One reviewer in the UK said that it was a film that wanted to be "Do The Right Thing", but lacked the touch that somebody like Spike Lee might have given it. I don't know. Maybe. I thought that it was OK and but that some of it was very effective. Julianne Moore, playing a pretty unsympathetic character, truth be told, was fantastic. Samuel L. Jackson was... Er... Samuel L. Jackson (no bad thing in my book, but others might disagree.)

We will be seeing "16 Blocks" tomorrow and then will be off to my Niece's birthday party. I should have been in bed 15 minutes ago. No time. No time.

It was interesting to see on the news that Luiz Felipe Scolari has ruled himself out of consideration for the England Football Team manager's job. I was just saying to Lorraine earlier today that there was no way the FA would even breathe his name publicly without it already being a done deal. Obviously I was wrong, or did he say 'Yes' and then he said 'No'? Death threats seemed to have been involved. You can't blame him, can you?

Such a mess. Who on earth is going to accept the England job now with everybody knowing that they were the second, third or fourth choice? Steve McClaren seems to be the front runner and will probably get the job.

We have no real plans for this weekend or the Bank Holiday.

Tomorrow, I don't know. Lorraine says that she has chores to do, so I will probably see a film. I fancy "Silent Hill" (which initially I wasn't bothered about, but Graham wrote an interesting analysis of it on his blog) or "Freedomland" (which hasn't had the best of reviews, but when have I ever taken any notice of reviews?) or maybe something with a girl with nice tits on the poster. Sunday, again, who knows? Lorraine will be having her hair done, so I'll be on my own for hours. If the weather is up to it I might do a bit of gardening. On Monday we will be going to see "16 Blocks" and then joining the family at Sister 1's house for a 'running buffet' to celebrate my Niece's birthday on Tuesday. Sister 1's 'running buffet''s are always terrible, but it is always a laugh and a good time.

Have a great weekend, y'all! No doubt I will be here at some point, twice as large and twice as ugly.

Good lord! My good lady emailed me a link to an amusing website. Why didn't anybody tell me that Lorraine has a sense of humour?

Anyway, for anybody who has had to suffer a manager with a taste in inspiration posters, here it is and enjoy. I did.

In other news, there isn't any. It's been very quiet.

Lorraine turned up last night at 9:30pm. She was shattered. She had left the house at 7am and had been at a customer's until late in the evening. I wouldn't mind so much, she likes the work, but the Company and/or the customer will not appreciate her efforts and they will only expect this from her all of the time.

Today I found out that my friend Alan Byron, who works on product B, has got the job that he applied for in the Training department. I am happy for him. He deserves the break as he is one of the good guys. Very hard working, funny, self depreciating and solid. Certainly not a prima donna like me. I hope that he makes a big success of himself. The Product B team will be lacking when he has gone.

Alan started working for the Company in February 2001, exactly one month before I started. From the start we always got on well, but in all honesty I wouldn't have claimed to have been a really good friend of his. In October of that year, when Lorraine and I moved into this house, Alan offered to help us move given the time constraint that he could only manage a couple of hours on the Saturday morning. I never expected him to turn up, but he was the only one from work that did. He was solid and helpful on a very stressful day. (It was torrential rain in Birmingham on October 6th 2001. That date is burnt onto my psyche.) We have never forgotten that casual act of kindness. We feel that we have owed him ever since.

I once groped Belinda Byron's (Alan's wife's) tits at an office party. It was an accident (No, really!) but they did feel nice. Maybe I will tell that story one day.

Interesting evening. I have

1. Cooked food. (Lamb shanks and vegetables. It was OK.)
2. Eaten food.
3. Washed up
4. Mopped the kitchen floor
5. Watched "C. S. I. Crime Scene Investigation" (Faye Dunaway looks like she has had a lot of plastic surgery)
6. Purchased "Where The Truth Lies" (brilliant, atmospheric, weird, erotic mystery - one of my favourite films of last year)
7. Purchased "Green Wing" series 1 (godlike genius)
8. Purchased "The West Wing" series 3 (ditto)

while Lorraine sat in the living room all night and prepared for a customer visit that she is undertaking tomorrow. She will not be back until late tomorrow evening.

It's no life, is it?

I have decided that self pity does not become me, so this is what I have done.

1. Found a big box. (Quite easy, really. There was a big box in the kitchen that had not been thrown away. It contained all the lovely Italian goodies - wine, biscuits, cake - that Lorraine received from her Cousin for a late birthday present.)
2. Collect up all the self pity in the house and stuff it into the box. (Nasty stuff, self pity. Yellow, gelatinous, bogeylike, stinky slime. Gets everywhere, upsets Moon the Cat and bites you on the ass when you least expect it.)
3. Take the big box to the nearest canal. (Sadly as I do not possess a car, or a license come to that, this had to be done on the bus. People stared at the looney talking to the box, although I like to think some of the ladies who looked at me wondered what Brad Pitt was doing on the 23 bus going down Broad Street.)
4. And Throw the fucking thing in the canal!!!!

Ah.... I feel much better now.

I've been reading about the Take That reunion gig that took place last night. I wish I had tried to get tickets. It looked like fun. I always thought that Take That were a fine singles band. I only mention it because these days I don't seem to bother much about trying to get tickets for special gigs. Such fun. I remember getting up at 4am with Sister 1 to queue for tickets for R.E.M.'s 1995 show at the NEC, which they eventually cancelled when Bill Berry had his brain hemorrhage. I remember queuing for tickets for Frankie Goes To Hollywood at the Birmingham Odeon, Springsteen at the NEC, the Who at Earls Court, the Sex Pistols at Finsbury Park, New Kids On The Block (for my sisters) at the NEC.

I didn't bother to even try to get tickets for one of the George Michael shows. It is probably too late now. The reason? I spoke to Sister 2 (the huge 80's/90's George Michael fan) on Friday about the possibility of getting tickets and she said "I don't really like him that much anymore". So, all of that nastiness with Lorraine could have been avoided. By Sunday I was feeling that sick and tired and fed up that I could not be arsed.

(What's that? Self pity. Stamp the fucker! It's OK. It's gone.)

I need to sleep. I meant what I said yesterday about the blog, though.

I've only got 30 minutes or so and I seem to have writer's block. Not a good position to be in. Oh, well...

Mom's meal on Friday night went OK. Sister 1 and my Niece turned up half an hour late, which my Brother took great exception to as he had an appointment with another lady for later the same evening. (You would have thought that after recent events he would want to leave it alone for a while, but apparently not.) Eventually, after a long delay, the Pynchon clan were positioned at a table well away from anybody else. I think that at least one guy, who was dining alone, asked to be moved because we were making a lot of noise. Good for him. My Mom and my Aunt had an argument about sweetcorn. (Don't ask.) I talked a lot to my Niece about Harry Potter, because she is mad about the books and the films. My Nephew wants a Ben Sherman T-shirt with a target logo for his birthday. Sister 2 has started a course in Anxiety Management. Good for her. Small steps and all that. My Mom was happy and smiling. That is the most important thing.

On Friday night I decided to drink no alcohol whatsoever. I don't think that it is doing me any good. My Brother made up for the lack of my alcohol intake. (I am also thinking about throwing away all of my pornography, as that is not doing me any good either, but that is a different story.)

I didn't do anything on Saturday except a bit of shopping. I could have gone to the cinema, but I couldn't be bothered. During the evening Lorraine and I watched "Doctor Who" (really, really good, although the werewolf was a bit ridiculous), "Constantine" on Sky Movies (I liked it a lot and Lorraine stuck with it even though it was ostensibly a horror film) and then the repeat of "Green Wing" (genius).

Today I went to see "Tristan + Isolde".



Sadly it's lackluster, unexciting and po-faced, although it was nice seeing Rufus Sewell play something other than a villainous cad. It should have been more intense, bloodthirsty, funnier and sexier. (Think Paul Verehoven's "Flesh + Blood" .) Kevin Reynolds made "Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves", which is pretty much dismissed these days, but is a great film. Such a shame. Sophia Myles, who was the best thing in the "Thunderbirds" abomination, is pretty nice to look at though.

Is that it? Yes, I think that it is. Did you guess that I am feeling really down and it's a struggle to be bothered to write anything but drivel? You did?

I can't hide anything, can I? But I'll tell you one thing. I think that without this blog, and the interesting people I have met through it, I would sink into my chair and disappear. I mean it.

QEII is 80 years old today! Happy birthday, Maaaaaaaaaaaaaam! I hope you are having a nice day.

(Bows and scrapes in a demeaning manner.)

More importantly, my Mom is 71 years old tomorrow. This evening we will be having the annual Mom's-Birthday-Feast, whereby the entire Pynchon clan will descend on a restaurant and will commence drinking, fighting and general chaotic behaviour. Sadly, this year, Lorraine will not be attending. She returned from Nottingham yesterday with a filthy cold and feels like shit.

Lorraine is talking to me now. Earlier she wasn't. Things went quite bad this morning quite quickly. All down to Lorraine's feelings about Middle Sister.

We intended to go to see Disney's "Eight Below". (Lorraine wasn't feeling so bad earlier.) On the bus into town I read in the Metro about the upcoming George Michael greatest hits tour. I said to Lorraine that I would quite fancy getting tickets for that, if at all possible. I asked Lorraine if she would like to go to see George Michael live. Lorraine said that she would. I told Lorraine that I would see if Middle Sister wanted to go. (Middle Sister and me saw George Michael in 1988 on the "Faith" tour and in 1991 on the "Listen Without Prejudice" tour and were knocked out. Fantastic, brilliant performer. During her teens George Michael was Middle Sister's pop hero.) Lorraine said, "Do we have to tell (Middle Sister) about the George Michael tour? You know what she's like".

Ahem. OK. I hit the fucking roof.

Yes, I know what Middle Sister is like. She is big, fat, full of neuroses, has borderline learning difficulties and no life. Some of you might remember my frustration at the way that events unfolded when Middle Sister, my Brother and me went to see Oasis in Manchester last year, and how I vowed never to go to a gig with her again. But guess what? She's my fucking Sister and... George Michael has always been our thing.

I told Lorraine that she was a selfish and spiteful cow and how fed up I was with her attitude to my family. It didn't go down well. We had a stand up argument in the street and I ended up walking quickly away from her. (I don't hit women, but Christ forgive me, I got close.) It was pretty difficult walking quickly away with bad feet, as well. (After yesterday's major wankerdom in walking to town, I am now a cripple).

Somehow I lost Lorraine in town. I didn't do it on purpose. After wandering around the normal haunts, hoping to run into her, I went around to my Mom's to stew and sulk. Lorraine called me using the mobile. We were icily polite to each other. I asked Lorraine if she still wanted to see "Eight Below". She said No. She said she was going home.

I got home a couple of hours ago. Lorraine is speaking to me. You would think that nothing had happened, but it did. I'm not going to say anything.

Is this what they call a tumultuous relationship? If I didn't love her, at this precise moment, I wouldn't give a shit about ending it. Perhaps if we fucked occasionally, things would be better?

And on that downer, I'm off. I'll catch up with what everybody else is doing later.

Lorraine has just called to say that she will be late.

21:20 and no contact whatsoever all day... I can feel certain harsh words coming on.

Just as well I had that egg sandwich earlier, isn't it?

So, to kill time, this has been nicked from Swiss Toni and mark and Lithaborn and it seems everybody else in the blog world. This is more or less everything that I have on my MP3 player at the moment.




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