January 29, 2007

Fun de Semaine

Lack of blog this weekend reflects a total lack of free time, not to mention a monster hangover.

Friday was the office annual "Christmas" party (Christmas is cheaper in January), so I went straight from work to the football pitch for the London office vs Edinburgh office five-a-side match (we lost), and straight from there to some poncy club in Mayfair where I drank liberally from the open bar and stood around with rich investment banker types smoking cigars. It was, perhaps, the manliest night of my life.

Saturday I got up at ten to go meet my mum before she left town on the noon train. I was still drunk. Then dim sum with one friend, a hurried nap, and dinner and a movie with another. We were meant to be seeing The Pursuit of Happyness, not because it looks like a good movie, but because I have been so aggravated by the incorrect spelling in the title that I needed to go just for an explanation. It was sold out, though, so we ended up seeing Venus instead, which, though I will admit warrants Peter O' Toole's Oscar nom, was otherwise a frustratingly plodding muddle.

Sunday I finally got back on the improv wagon, in the form of a three hour musical improv workshop with none other than Montreal's most life-like futuristic killing machine, MDR. It was really great to get back on stage again, though musical improv lies so far outside my comfort zone I would have preferred a slightly gentler re-introduction. At one point, my singing was going so badly that the workshop leader had me finish up the song in gibberish, leading to the surprisingly catchy chorus: "Shmulack! Ma-reep-da-peep SHMULACK!"

Shmulack means 'toffee', by the way.

And Sunday night I settled in for a very British evening of fish and chips and Fawlty Towers with my friend Helen. She, incidentally, told me that my 'Waiting With Dan' post was one of the funniest things I'd written in a long time, which surprised me (because I didn't think anyone who didn't know Dan would get it), and also leads me to believe that I should try and be like Dan Beirne all the time. I'm going to go straight out after work and pick up a nineteen-year-old.

Now, though, another gruelling Monday at the office (made all the worse by the large gaps in my memory from Friday night's boozefest. What did I say to the CEO?).

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