Had a nice long weekend away up in the old country (Worcestershire) as it was my Mum’s 50th birthday and she was having a bit of a party.
Got the megabus up on Saturday. It was a pound to London and a pound to Birmingham. How they make a profit is still a mystery to me. Then on Saturday night met up with all manner of extended relatives at my a theatre putting on my stepdad’s latest play. The play was good, the relatives funny beyond belief. I used to be concerned a little about looking good in front of them, but no longer really care. Viewed now they are a lot less impressive and a lot more shy & retiring than I remember. Though I suppose I was quite a bit younger last time we all got together.
Got mildly drunk and had a good babble, but didn’t make an arse of myself.
Sunday was the party, then. Got dressed up in smart clothes and sat around in the hotel where it was being held being served. Liverpool were playing Chelsea, so we had to wait for a while for everyone to arrive. The party was good then – I was the assigned photographer, so diligently annoyed everyone by sneaking around taking unposed photos. Then danced to Franz Ferdinand and The Libertines (surprisingly good DJ) and went home relatively early.
Got the megabus back down on Monday and then slept for a bit and went to work, which was the same old fucking thing except one of my friends there was leaving. The only real entertainment came when the water machine next to me caught on fire and we had to evacuate the building. Good to have a break for a bit, but after ten minutes outside in the rain I just wanted to get back in where it was warm. Inside it smelled of burning plastic all afternoon.
Today is my day off. Have been sleeping.