Tuesday, May 12, 2009
your mum might understand
Well it’s fucking cold.
You realise you own 4 Dionne Warwick albums.
Which you listen to on a regular basis.
Your parents are living it up in Rio.
Your holiday photo albums are on the same rotation as your Dionne Warwick collection.
The layers of retro shit you wore in Berlin isn’t getting the recognition it deserves.
You wear your gold golf brogues to work – gold golf shoes are all the rage so shuttup then - and you get a, ‘Why, Hello the Tin Man! Are you looking for the Wizard Of Oz?’
You wonder if the Tin Man got the same heat from Dorothy.
The sun is setting at 5:30pm, it’s mid-year crunch time, the deadlines are but fast and furiously piling the fuck up, and you’re thinking about getting new side tables.
Conversation with my mother on Skype, while she was sitting on a bloody patio overlooking Copacabana.
The final straw happened when my handbag decided to off itself through some timeous strap estrangement at a client meeting.
Where I had to walk into a boardroom with it stuffed under my arm like a clutch purse. With one strap dangling off the side. Classy.
Ultimately, and what I’m really saying is, that holiday fever you still had a week ago? It’s gone.
One has to take Post Holiday Blues by the horns and reign it in - fast.
Or else it can be messy. One must be on guard at all times. Especially after a week like ours.
So I went to Klo’s house for dinner with the girls.
Came back with stomach cramps from laughing myself into a retarded stupor.
A dinner with your best mates will sort that dribbly shit out. Saw Dove again after a week of no Berlin, and we laughed ‘til we cried.
M: Those are some retro boots.
Peas: Aren’t they absolutely and truly fucking incredible? Sorry, but my Soviet boots tell a story. These things have seen things.
N: If those things could talk, what would they say?
M: They’d say ‘I did a lot of dancing to Abba in the 70s’.
Peas: Dove wasn't so sure.
Dove: I told her straight: ‘No mate.’
Peas: These boots were part of Communism.
The good news - post-holiday - is that my book is now on its second print run. Which is tremendously uplifting.