It is funny how I have to put on a full suit and tie before sitting down to write, but I’ve remembered that this was also the case during my school years. I found it hard to settle down and do my homework or revision at home – unless I actually put on my school uniform. Or kept it on. My groovy, forward-thinking middle school, Stoke-By-Nayland, eschewed the traditional blazer and tie ensemble for a printed-logo sweatshirt affair. No ties, no jackets. It was the only thing I didn’t like about the school. As in adult life, I could never understand why progressive thinking had to mean dressing more casually.I’m still appalled when I see important, high-earning people like the head of Channel 4 make statements on TV (about Big Brother or phone competition fixing), dressed like Man At C&A. Whatever he spends his huge salary on, it can’t be clothes.
When dividing one’s budget, it should always be clothes make-up and grooming products first, then contact lenses (Focus Dailies seem to do it for me – stylishly curved little blister packs of disposable lenses), then taxis, then food, rent and everything else.
***
Am still feeling permanently sluggish – possibly battling off flu – but am cheering myself up enjoying recent editions of I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue. It’s still the funniest comedy show on the radio, despite or perhaps because of the advanced age of its regular participants (host Humphrey Lyttlelton is in his mid 80s). And still the most popular: the roaring audience applause of hundreds somewhat dwarves the polite clapping of dozens heard on other panel games.
Some favourite jokes:
‘In the late 1960s Soho was home to Jimi Hendrix, who overcame his dyslexia to become one of the world’s greatest rock guitarists. Sadly Hendrix died here in 1970 after choking to death on his own Vimto.’
‘I was always impressed by the notion that breaking a mirror is certain to bring you seven years of bad luck. Yesterday I deliberately smashed four, thereby guaranteeing I’ll live to be 114.”
And from the round about new definitions:
rambling – jewelry for sheep
fairy tale – beer made from ferrets
fuselage – not many that big
scum – it has arrived
iconoclastic – rubber band for securing religious paintings
gurgle – to steal a ventriloquist’s dummy
sex – what The Queen keeps her coal in
sycamore – not as well as I used to be
dunderhead – what a sculptor says after completing the top part of a bust
cruise control – Scientology
***
The Diary Angels page now carries a lovely new Beardsley-esque illustration from Lawrence Gullo.
***
Claudia’s flat is very quiet, though there are a couple of ticking clocks in this room. I sit staring at the blank page and listen to the day tick away. And I wish I knew what best to do with the blank page, and the blank day.
