Thursday
30th August 2012
Accompanied Jenni to the funeral of a family
friend in Sunderland this morning. Cold and
wet horrible weather. But the turn-out was decent. Service was about twenty
minutes long. That’s all it takes to sum up a life, Jen remarked. Felt strange
being there and not knowing the person who had died but wanted to be there for
Jenni and met a few more friends of her family. We went back to Washington for drinks
and then walked to the bus stop with her mam and stepdad. Fell asleep on the
bus to Heworth metro. Quick switchover. Jen got off at Gateshead, I stayed on
till Newcastle
and went to Travelling Man and Forbidden Planet. Looked at some great comic
books including Courtney Crumpin by Ted Naifeh and Lenore by Roman Dirge. The
artwork is brilliant but not sure I’d be good at reading comic books. Checked
out music papers, DVDs and new journal books then bought a sausage and tomato
roll from Greggs before bus back to Consett. Answered messages tonight and
checked out some of the titles I looked at in town. Had a bacon and egg
sandwich. It’s been a long day and I’m pretty tired. 10.38pm.
Friday 31st
August 2012
Last day of the month. Summer almost over. But it
seems that it might be a bright day. A day for wandering round town browsing at
books and dvds or visiting a community centre event or building a new garden
fence. It might be a day for getting finances in order, for sorting out a box
room or doing some charitable deed. For popping in on relatives unexpected and
brightening up someone’s outlook for the weekend. There is no need to watch
television, there is no need to wash clothes. Wear the most casual and
comfortable of jumpers, jeans, a light pair of trainers or sandshoes. Maybe
carry a little packed lunch in a small shoulder bag or snack bars in the side
pocket of cargo pants.
Last day of the month could be a farewell to
problems and it could be a welcome to the magical autumn. Some people prefer it
to summer. Who wants stifling heat and torrential rain anyway? A walk round the
housing estate might reveal mysterious elements that fire the imagination and
turn the self-obsessed into world visionaries predicting good things for all
from this day forward. A surprise package may arrive by Royal Mail and send the
recipient on a memorable inner journey that requires stamina and open
mindedness. Friday for many has the feel good factor. Buzzing with plans as
they chat to colleagues over ten o’clock break, the boring tasks that filled
them with anger Monday to Thursday carried out now without complaint safe in
the knowledge that for two days there’ll be no more memos, no errands for team
leader; no deadlines or sarcasm. Later the queue in the bank might spark a conversation leading to a new
social alliance. A bargain may appear as if out of nowhere. There may be a sense
of satisfaction simply going from grocers to hardware store to supermarket to
newsagents and then a pleasant ten-minute journey back home. An enjoyable hour
upon arrival. Unpack the food supplies and stack the kitchen shelves. Take off
the uniform and put on a favourite shirt with vintage jeans and flip-flops.
Turn on the radio or fire-up Spotify with a recommendation from a friend. Or
just sit back in a comfy armchair with a cup of coffee, enjoying the
tranquillity before the kids get home.
Last day of the month – last day of summer, maybe.
Autumn coming soon. Autumn is a time for walks through the woods on Sunday
afternoons, all wrapped up in jumpers and scarves, boots crunching over dead
leaves whilst thinking of spooky things and looking forward to ducky apples and
bonfires. A magical time. There are all sorts of magic that don’t require
playing cards or rabbits being pulled from hats: thinking about an absent
friend then meeting them on the street; dreaming of a strange object then
seeing it in the antique shop window of a town you’ve never previously visited.
Finding meaning or guidance from something mundane that for some unknown reason
suddenly seems to resonate with such promise. A serendipitous season. Autumn is
coming. Enjoy it. 9.36am.
Went into town late this afternoon to buy food and
check bank transactions. A surprise payment covered the cost of recent
purchases. Jenni liked the first of my more outward-looking morning pages. Right
now I’m listening to new tracks by Drugstore. Can’t believe they are making
music again. Saw them in 1995 at the Riverside.
I like the drowsy gloomy feel to their songs. Tomorrow I’m back in Newcastle for Jess and
Bish’s wedding at two o’clock. 10.08pm.
Saturday 2nd
September 2012
Chilled out at bowling club in West End of
Newcastle after attending church wedding. Good food, good people, nice venue A
lot of the Pink Lane
people there. Bish still taking pix on his wedding day. Jess thanked us for
coming. Really good of them to invite us. Had a laugh reading some saucy stuff
from Mills and Boon novels; there was one on every table! Had meal with Tom,
Jenni, Friz, Sky and Alix. People played croquet on the green. The dance floor
saw some funky, freaky, backflip, spinning, dizzy action. Watched the floorshow
but I’m not much of a mover. Me and Tom talked about projects. Jenni shoved
cold sausages in my face. Later people said farewells. Cuddles, handshakes,
kisses. A good day. 10.30pm.
Sunday 2nd
September 2012
Read bits of Roald Dahl kids’ book to Jenni in bed
and made her laugh. Ate corned beef pie, lemon cake and custard. Watched a 1987
episode of Taggart on dvd. Bus home was late. Read Planet Joe all the way to
Consett. The book is okay but doesn’t paint Cole as an amazing guy. Forgot to
bring my morning pages. Day three of the Not Me challenge: a walk in the woods
and bus ride – composites of various observations. Walked from Consett. Ribena,
peanut butter on snackbread. Trawled through email stuff. Spent 40 minutes
giving feedback on Northern Elements project and was brutally honest, hoping it
will draw a line under it. Okay, two weeks to kick ass prepping towards another
agenda not fit for purpose. Fuck it before it fucks me over. 11.35pm.
Monday 3rd
September 2012
She wants to go walkabout without a bodyguard. She
puts on dark glasses and head scarf, a grey mac and flat shoes, sensible
trousers and no make up. She slips out without telling a soul. It’s exciting;
wandering, invisible. She doesn’t need to speak, she isn’t buying or selling anything.
Just a wander around the city which for so long has seemed like a prison. When
you’re on duty, you’re someone else. They treat you with respect. You have
power over them, they answer to your every whim. But it’s a charade. She wants
to be able to wander freely, wonders why anyone would actually choose to be a public
figure anyway. It’s a bit unfair: craving attention then complaining when it
comes your way. She smokes a cigarette, gazes into a high street jewellers’
window. Trinkets, baubles, body furniture – what’s it all for. People hide behind
make-up, elaborate costumes, airs and graces in order to be loved. What would
it be like to just be free to choose where and when to go where you like, not
to be on schedule. On contract. The traffic is a bit terrifying. She can drive
but is usually in the passenger seat, going over last minute preparations for
this engagement or that, checking the words they’ve given her. Mustn’t fluff
the lines, the world is watching. She walks past a bakery and smells the fresh
bread, feels hungry, looks at the cakes and pastries. A person such as she
shouldn’t be seen eating takeaways and besides, she doesn’t have any cash with
her. Credit cards would give the game away. A man begging on the corner says
something she can’t quite understand. He sounds unwell, looks terrible – oily
pants, sole of left shoe flapping; sores around his mouth, hair plastered flat,
thick with grease. The smell of decay catches her breath – worse than the farm
she visited once as a girl. A huge lorry thunders past. She shudders. Diesel
fumes fill her head. She leans against a lamppost for a moment. A hand on her
shoulder, “Are you alright there?” She freezes. “Are you lost?” She shakes her
head, “Fine,” she grunts, hoping it works, “Fine, really.” Then she is alone
again. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. She turns round and begins
to walk back along the uneven pavement, catches sight of dog dirt, vomit and
discarded peasant food. She wonders if she’s been missed. No-one will reprimand
her for this little episode; they’re all on the pay-roll. Soon she’ll be safe
inside with a cup of Earl Grey and then a lie down. This was a stupid idea and
she knows her place now. All those people who adore her; they come from another
world. She will never be like them, never be free there. She turns the final
corner and approaches the fortress. 9.24am.
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