Found amongst J’s correspondence. He has typed it on his typewriter. I’m not sure if it is a Diary entry or if it was meant to be a letter, to me or someone else. I know I never received it. Think this may belong in the UNSENT file. What: Paige’s Party When: Friday, 18 October 1996 Who was there: Me, Tariq, Simon, Jeremy, Lisa, Darren, … Continue reading Before Hipsters were Hipsters.
Wednesday, 5 June 1996 8:35am Hey S, Had that lunch with our Father yesterday. Depressing affair, all told. Basically, these ideas of going back to Uni are shot, they really are. It’s the people I work with, they’re always going on and on and on about how crap it is here, so I guess I’m conditioned to think that. Then they all go on about … Continue reading Maybe I’ll just skip the University course and make myself homeless now.
Thursday, 16 May 1996 8:30am I switched camps this morning Sis. I overcame my great fear, and went over to the other side. You know what I’m talking about. I bought my cappuccino at Le Croissant Connection, instead of Pomegranites (sic). I thought to myself ‘Dammit J, yesterday’s excuse for a cappuccino had no fluff on it at all’. No fluff, nix fluffae, as the … Continue reading It’s a coffee coup.
Tuesday, 14 May 1996 8:30am Went to the “Empress of India” in Carlton. I was meeting Scottish Lisa from work and a few other people, all of whom I’d met before (bar one). There were seven of us, we sat around just drinking and gossiping. I must be getting old S, I spent a Saturday night ‘just chatting with friends’ (sounds like a coffee commercial) … Continue reading The peculiarities of our troublesome Father.
Friday, 10 May 1996 8:35am It’s a New Age for J, Sis. I had a bit of a revelation last night. I was shaving after a bath to soothe away the rigours of the day, and I noticed something in my face I’d never spied before. I’m getting jowls. I’ve put on weight, and I’m getting jowls. They’re embryonic jowls to be sure, but the … Continue reading Men with jowls don’t dance.
Tuesday, 8 August 1995 1:27pm Wheeeeeeeeee. I’m feeling all light-headed from champagne, courtesy of Cav. He and his Dad, Jeremy and I just downed a bottle in the tea room. Some cafe gave it to Cav at Christmas for being a regular customer. It was nice, I’m no champagne connoisseur, but it was light and tangy. It’s Cav’s farewell proper tonight. Drinks at “Klicks” then … Continue reading I’m planning, conniving, choreographing a delicately balanced ballet of politics, greed and manipulation. I’m trying to get a pay rise you see.
Monday, 3 July 1995 12:28pm S, Howdy. Another heater-hugging morning down in the Antipodes. I’ve got my big bulky coat on and The Stone Roses in my Walkman and I’m feeling nice and cosy. I actually went to that party I was telling you about in my last letter. It was in Richmond, between two factories. Simon came over about 8pm with half a slab … Continue reading I even had on a mohair jumper! But all to no avail.