I have a cold, maybe its hayfever, but I'm betting its a cold, brought on by chronic sleep deprivation.
Friday night:- scribbled and scrawled on the internet, made 'squee' noises at digital human interaction and the thought that I can influence people's action. And then I got in my car and drove north.
My tactic is to drive until I going to fall asleep and then park up in a service station car park. Its not the safest tactic, and one day it will kill me, but not yet. I'll come up with a better strategy when the playing field changes, but right now if I'm driving four hundred miles and want to spend quality time at my destination, it the only strategy that works.
Have I been over this before on my blog? A old friend was having an exhibition in Glasgow, invitations sent out on Facebook, whilst chronically unable to reach out to interact with people myself, any invitation gives me a warm fuzzy feeling which I embrace with all of my resources. Ooh, maybe thats why I got so pissed off with the olf Spiral Scratch thing of being invited to the same thing on many different social networks, it became spam, rather than something that looked like a personal invite.
Time passed, arrangements were made, time booked off work, friends in Glasgow liaised with for coffee, dinner and potential for ill-advised sleeping arrangements. Then followed the cancellation of the exhibition, and the unravelling of plans. RosieRabbit said I should go anyway, it'd be great fun. In her ditzy wee head she could see ticker tape parades for my return to Glasgow, girls throwing themselves at my feet and quality beer flowing freely. I was minded just to stay in London, but felt the irrepressible draw of The Plimptons.
My car reached Glasgow around 2pm on Saturday, I was stinking and knackered. I left my car outside Natalie's and headed off to meet the ex-wife at a pub in Woodlands. There was an old flatmate at the pub, I still can't remember her name. We chatted and hung out, the weather was blazing, plans for world domination were made and unravelled.
Robbie arrived on his bike and beer wa drank. The ex-wife's friends slipped away and she joined me and the Robster in heading up to Cheribini's for coffee with Colin. They chatted about bikes which was nice and gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside that introducing people who only know each other through me talkinga bout them all the time kind of went okay.
She slipped away at the cafe, leaving just three boys talking about trains.
Time passed and I slipped away myself, reappearing at Mono. Tara on the bar, familiar faces all around, free wifi.
Time passed once more and I arranged to meet Natalie, other side of town, with her new boyfriend too.
As I approched BeanScene, I spied the ex-wife with her new boyfriend too, I blanched and ran away before they saw me. Sometimes its lucky I have better eyesight than the ladies.
Watched Dr Who at Nat's and ate some of her mousaka. It was well nice, like shepherds pie with aubergenes and sweet potato.
Plimptons gig, reviewed here
We staggered back to her place afterwards, at first just the three of us, then roping in Adam Plimp and Gill the artist, so they could sample the delights of the mousaka. Nat had demanded I invited them into her flat rather than ask them herself, not sure if thats a breach of etiquette, but hey ho.
Have already ranted about them trying to get me to stay there, sleep on the couch, rather than drive home that night.
Like Idles taught me to say... Fuck that shit