Pynchon

... I turned to Stef and said, "Is Stef your real name?"

Turned out that it was. Turned out that the rest of his name was real as well, and that by some strange conjunction (not sure if that is a real word or not) of time, planets and history he was given the perfect name for somebody who works in IT in the 21st Century.

Found out that Stef has been a Blogger, or more accurately, has had an Internet presence since 1999, when approximately 2 men and a dog were surfing the Internet. Lorraine was disturbed to discover that Stef has been following her around for years. Bristol, Nottingham, Birmingham. (Stef - Lorraine wants to know if you ever worked in Brighton or Leicester?) We live directly opposite a school and it turns out that Stef worked as a supply teacher in that very school.

Perhaps I am Stef? Or perhaps he is me? Perhaps I will finally crack those Rassilon equations in the future, regenerate, travel back in time and become Stef? Perhaps Jason Statham will really be the next Doctor (but my choice would be somebody like Jason Flemyng; somebody physically different from the other recent Doctor's)? Perhaps the secret villain in the next series will be the Master (and if he is, and they haven't cast yet, they really should give Rufus Sewell a call)?

Ahem. Sorry about that.

Where was I?

The Science Museum.

Things sometimes really work out for the best. At Christmas we promised my Niece and Nephew that we would take them on a jaunt to London when the weather gets a little bit warmer. One of the places that we thought would be really good to visit was the Science Museum. Mark's kind invitation gave us the chance to do a dry run.

The Science Museum is 5 floors. Time constraints meant that we didn't get the time to visit every floor. We just managed to peruse the floor that we came in on and the "Game On" rooms. Not to worry, though. What we saw was fantastic.

A full size V2 rocket. (As big as a four storey house. I never knew that it was so big.) The Apollo 10 command module. (LB said to me that it was like something out of the old series of "Doctor Who". He was absolutely correct. It looked small and flimsy. How did they go around the Earth in that?) Stevenson's Rocket. (With a big sign saying not to touch in case you might damage it. Damage it? They were having a laugh. It looked huge and fuck-off solid.) Fragments of pottery and glass from Hiroshima. Jet engines. Old cars. An Australian Euthanasia machine. (Eh?)

There was a lot of stuff on the ground floor. Too much to mention. Fascinating. Really interesting. My Niece and Nephew will love it.

Eventually we got into the "Game On" rooms. The ticket said to enter at 16:15. We had an hour and a half.

I am not a gamer. Never have been. The only game I have ever really played on a computer is Tetris or Space Invaders, and I discovered that I was very shit indeed at playing both of them. Computer games have never been anything that I have ever particularly sought out, but I did enjoy having a go on some of the games on offer on Saturday. I won't go through the names of the games because I don't know them, but Lorraine proved to be a whiz on everything she tried.

Horrible cow.

The group had split up and were all over the "Game On" rooms. Every now and again I ran into people. LB had a feverish expression on his face, like a kid who had eaten too many sweets. (Game Addiction. It's a terrible thing.) Suburban Hen was taking photos. Swiss Toni was deep in thought in front of some game or other. (He was driving around a racetrack.) Mark and Graham were living out their Rock God Fantasies. (You can check out the pictures.) Stef waved as he went by. Handsome Mr. X was checking out some Pokemon game. He had successfully mastered the ability to reset the screen. He was laughing. Ellen was keeping an eye on him.

Phew. Exhausting.

At 17:45 we were thrown out of the "Game On" room. Lorraine digged me in the ribs and reminded me that our coach was at 19:00 and that I would be freaking out if we were not at the coach station with at least 30 minutes to spare. So, sadly, we had to leave. Handshakes all around. Some hugs. Promises to do something again. I hope that we do.

Great day all around. Mark - thanks for inviting us. It was a pleasure.

(BTW. Mark, tell Ellen that if she really is interested in joining us for an afternoon or an evening in the West End the next time we are in London, the offer is genuine and she is more than welcome. Actually, so are you, but you might end up at a girly musical and suddenly develop an interest in show tunes. It happened to me!

Please pass my email address onto Ellen so that she can contact us if she wants.)

Sunday... I went to see Paul Verhoeven's latest, "Zwartboek" or "Black Book", but I will go into what I thought about that tomorrow. Ironing awaits.