Sob Story

It’s only Tuesday and it already feels like the middle of next week.
This evening I went to see TOY STORY 3. Imagine an audience of young, trendy media folk and me. imagine an audience with paper and pens, ready to criticise all wearing ridiculous three D glasses.
I sat, dying for the loo, from the beginning but reluctant to leave the screening room in case I missed anything.

Randy Newman’s music, the animation, the story, the voicing, the roller coaster of emotions, the need for tissues, the blubbing that turned Toy Story into Sob Story.
It is a wonderful, sensitive, delightful film. with Barbie giving a political speech and a nod and wink at the Exorcist in one of the dolls.
I left the theatre feeling strangely nostalgic for my daughter to be young again. As she sets about her new life I realise that she’s beginning her journey and I’m coming to the end of mine.
How can an animated film make me feel like that? Daft.
I sat on the bus and an Arabic couple gutterally shouted at each other, an Asian man spoke loudly on his phone with a cut-glass accent ‘ It was ERMAZING’ , a fully coated, plaited blonde girl husked her way through a mobile conversation. She sounded like an actress and the woman sitting next to me kept smelling her peonies.
They were a noisy bunch of peoples. From Shafstebury Avenue to Battersea they had one sided conversations that made me feel fractious.
Got back to the flat and the old git had packed for the next leg of his tour. neither of us want him to go.
We jumped in the car to take a set of keys over to B. We met her in a pub in Aldgate handed them over, had abag of nuts and a pint then turned the car round back to Sarf Lunden..
I met with my agent tonight to talk about this and that. By the end of the conversation it was clear that I needed a proper holiday not just a week in the cottage. So now the ‘oosbind and I are thinking about Croatia. I thought Jim was going to get noughty about it but he was amenable. He is irritating me with his noisy computer but sometimes its better to have little noise of his existence than no noise at all.
Tomorrow its tea with a delicious poof I know. Thursday I am being regressed and Friday I may or may not drive back to the cottage to spend a weekend alone whilst the old git is giving his all in Norwich. Just when he needed the weather for his outdoor performance of ‘As You Like It’ it’s decided to tip it down.
Hey Ho the wind and the rain.
I’m dribbling now so as the clock strikes 00.00 – a time of no time. I’m hanging up my typing fingers and going to bed.
night night,