Wednesday, February 08, 2006

 
2005-10-01 024 WindfelledMust stop wasting time: said he, blogging.

Ok, so the time-wasting in question was in response to being presented with a fait-nearly-accompli and wondering about a little research along the way. Quite why I was looking up reviews when the venue's already been booked, I'm not sure. Latent pessimism I suppose.

Anyway, while looking up information for a party (anyone in London the weekend of the 25th?), I also happened to gravitate towards my hometown. Reading reviews of pubs you know, or used to know, is a bit odd. Especially when you discover comments about people you know (all flattering), find out what happened to that slightly psychotic guy from college, who was always fiddling with sharp implements (married/in coupledom, and landlord of one of the pubs) and notice that the comment "used to be good" gets rotated between the ones I know (although I am glad that it's not just me. But have all pubs always waxed and waned amongst certain groups? And it's always the same groups, as looking at abeerintheevening I realised just how many pubs Markettown has that simply don't register on my radar).

But what I ought to worry about was the fact I found myself looking for a pub which closed years ago. Unfortunately, it was the nicest in town, and virtually my local. Whereas now it's a twee and resoundingly empty cottage. Ok, so half of it always was nearly empty due to the room to the left being for the true locals (it being my nearest pub, and the fact I'd lived my entire life in the town simply weren't enough. I was never sure what was enough; a Black Country accent maybe, despite the utter Home Countiesness of the place. One of the "ye dohn wanna be comin' innear laddie" guys did have a strangely incongruous accent, but then I think he lived 3 houses away, so maybe that's what made him exempt from the "a local place for local people" rules)

And somehow I'd forgotten the place where the toilets are the corridor behind the two bars. But that's drinking in a grammar school for you.

Moral of this story: never take your children to the pub - at least not a really nice pub where they can fish apples out of the stream (a habit we never grew out of), and where they can return to throughout their formative years (no comments on underage cider drinkers), then disappear to university, and come back to find the place closed. The new owners of the building must have been some of the most despised people in town, not really for anything they've done (but presumably most of the proper-pubbiness soon got removed) but simply because they emphasise the fact that something good is no more. And we won't point and laugh at them [much] for apparently being very upset to discover that most of the huge garden of the pub was on loan to the pub while it was a public house, and so as soon as it went private, the fences went back up. Apparently neither they nor any of the people hired on their behalf, managed to look at the deeds in quite enough detail.

Back to the moral. Never play the best card first. Not only does it ruin the game, but all the others are only a king. Which is damn annoying (but which does suggest that there might be 3 more to find. I think I know of 1 probable and another potential, unfortunately neither are near here).

Hmm, somehow I've managed to go on about pubs for quite a while, and this is me, who generally doesn't go to the pub, and doesn't really like them (except the ones where I never have to pay, although the cost of that is often finding myself volunteered, and having certain barmaids pinch my chips).

But it's probably better than discussing my studied silence in the face of "women are chimpanzees" monologues, or nearly wanting to cry in Sainsbury's (can you imagine what would have happened if I'd gone to Morrisson's instead?), or how something that wouldn't work suddenly did, and I have no idea why, but that doesn't stop me saying how wonderful it is, or maybe just the joy of having to explain how to roast a parsnip (yes, just the one). I'm writing rubbish because I've got an obscene amount of work to do (if only it was on something obscene. Management structures may generate obscenities, but they're not really up there with... I can't think of anything. Asking for suggestions would be a bad idea, right?), not much time to do, and I'm not really sure where to start.

Plus I've got someone from the other side of the world trying to convince me to meet a total stranger/unmutualised friend because "it would be good for [me]". I know I shouldn't say no outright, because, well, I don't know. But also I'm aware I have problems saying no [it's the whole nuh+ohwa thing which just confuses me], so am I considering it because I should or because I'm not very good at not.

That and I've never met anyone from the internet [ok, so I've walked past them], so how do I know they're real?

Oh hell, I just realised I'm considering using critical flow analysis on my life. Oh, and if, during, say, the course of an interview, someone should ask you "Have you ever done critical flow analysis?", never reply "Of course, we did that at GCSE".

I think he might have meant "have you ever applied...". But that answer is alongside my brother's famed response in one interview to some presented scenario: "Are you asking what I would do? Or what [the company] would do?"*

And to will soon be able to buy the [Ding-dong, Avon calling] brothers' book entitled "Make yourself stand out at interview".

That had better be it.

Anyhoo,

* But if you knew the company in question, that is a fair response.

PS. What is the etiquette of getting free food from a Hare Krishna surrounded by his Vegetarianism is Great (complete with misleading and wholly inaccurate claims about basic physiology) signs, while wearing a leather coat? Third week running I've done this (it's either that or yet more bagels, or eat in a cheap, but not cheap enough, small, overcrowded and smoky cafe). Unfortunately, it is the warmest coat I have, and while I'll gladly take free vegetarian food (even if I'm then left to wonder the sanity of a mind which curries sprouts [not the beansprout sort] or cooks broccoli until the stems fall apart), just as I take free anything, I do have a tendency to consume cow, even though I can't be sure it was the same cow I'm wearing.

PPS. The sun was very red this morning. It nearly made up for the knowledge of what's making it so red [ah, brown sky, how I inhale you so].

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