And four days later the Internet works again. Not that I’ve really missed it - I haven’t had time to use it. Turns out it was my router going on strike, and it’s still refusing to work. But getting home at ten, and then working on until twelve or later means I’ve not had time to send a single email, never mind browse the web.

I’m having a crappy time with technology at the moment. First there was that, and the loss of sound on at least half of my cable channels (I suspect it’s related as it comes through the same bit of wire), and now my email’s been wiped out by my hosting company as it upgraded its servers. Oh, and the iPod’s still sick, and I’m still without a working mobile as my new Sim still hasn’t turned up. This is making me feel a bit guilty because of all the people who only know my mobile number and whose numbers I’ve missed myself.

Hmmm.

Anyhow, I was back at PCW on yesterday for lunch with Kathryn. First time since leaving, and it felt like I’d never been away. So many people to say hello to, none of whom you really notice when you work there every time. So many hand shakes and questions. I picked up half of a box of valuables I’d left there on my last day in safekeeping, but looking at it now it’s all junk. I can’t understand what made me so desperate to keep some manky old cables and nick-nacks from my desk. Sentimentality, I guess.

We went to the bread shop I found on my last day there after five years of wandering around aimlessly wondering what I should have for lunch each day, but rather disappointing it really was a thoroughbred bread shop and didn’t do much than, ummm, bread. We found some pizzas in the window, so bought them and some rather evil-looking cakes and took them to eat with the meedjya types in Golden Square. Kathryn nearly fainted when we saw some unshaven guy from Coldplay. I’m led to believe he’s going out with Gwyneth Paltrow. Apparently.

Dad’s here now, though, for his regular November visit on his way to Argentina, which means the heating is turned down and the windows are open. These flats weren’t built for more than one at a time, regardless of the number of bedrooms, and it quickly gets hot when there’s two or more of you here.

It also means I’ve been wandering aimlessly around the meaty aisles in Sainsbury’s wondering what non-vegies eat. I settled on pies.

In the absence of anything better to do, we spent today in town until fourish when Sal and Dan and Paul came around for tea and cake. We watched the car chases from the Bond films and when they had gone we played Rummikub while I cooked far too much food. We had a carrot mountain by the time I’d finished and now I can’t get the smell of soggy orange veg out of the flat. We bolted it in the end - we’d booked tickets for Calendar Girls and looked a dead cert for missing the start.

We didn’t, of course. There was 25 minutes of adverts, five minutes of music with the curtains closed, ten minutes of trailers and then considerable nudging, chattering and te-te-te-te-teeeting of texts arriving, in spite of the switch off signs.

Not a bad film. Very funny, on the whole, and very well written, but it goes on a serious downer when the traipse off to America to be on the Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Did that really happen? I know it was based on fact, but the whole thing seemed to grind to a halt when they flew across the Atlantic and picked up again when they got back to the Dales. Couldn’t help feeling it was put in there just to pacify an American audience. It must make seeing a ‘foreign’ film less like a scary adventure for them.

Other Brit-flicks with needless American imports: Four Weddings (Andie McDowell), Notting Hill (Julia Roberts), Bridget Jones (Rene Zelwegger).

OK - admittedly the whole Notting Hill thing probably wouldn’t have worked without Julia Roberts, but there you go.

I must sleep. Why I didn’t go to bed until two this morning, I don’t know. I’d been pining for an early night since Tuesday.

This entry was posted on Saturday, November 8th, 2003 at 11:59 pm and is filed under Journal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.