All good plans come unstuck.

20 May 2000 Dearest S, Barry, Brady and O, It’s been a long time since I’ve written a letter so please excuse the scrawl. S I didn’t mean to offend by not sending a card for O when she was born, there was no intent meant so I’m truly sorry if it appeared there was.  If I look up from where I’m writing this letter … Continue reading All good plans come unstuck.

Before Hipsters were Hipsters.

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.

Maybe I’ll just skip the University course and make myself homeless now.

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.

I could go to Uni, pass, get a great job and then get struck by lightning. It’s all very risky, isn’t it?

  Friday, 31 May 1996  8:30am Dear S, Went and saw a film last night.  It was Kenneth Brannagh’s Midwinter’s Tale.  It was OK.  A bit predictable in places, a bit cliched, but at least Kenneth managed to keep his fat head off the screen for once.  Decided while sipping a coffee in Cafe Ritz (an embarrassing sort of place, on the corner of Exhibition … Continue reading I could go to Uni, pass, get a great job and then get struck by lightning. It’s all very risky, isn’t it?

I’m like ice-cream, delicious and sweet, but too much will make you puke.

Saturday, 12 August 1995  11:55am S, Yeah, check that date – I’m in at work on a Saturday.  And what a Saturday it is too, the mercury is set to soar to 17°, the sun is actually shining, and I’m here working.  Mum’s coming in to meet me at 2pm, and after she jumps back in her horseless carriage and zooms back to “Poo Town”, … Continue reading I’m like ice-cream, delicious and sweet, but too much will make you puke.

I’m planning, conniving, choreographing a delicately balanced ballet of politics, greed and manipulation. I’m trying to get a pay rise you see.

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.

Drunken shenanigans and shining, blinding, beautiful optimism.

Monday, 7 August 1995 10:32am Hey Sis, new week, riding it in a good mood, it’s lasted all day so far. It’s lasted the weekend as a matter of fact. Friday night was drinks at “Klicks”, the first under the new non-smoking rule.  The place was nearly deserted.  I didn’t mind, it’s not like I ever socialize with any of the tower-block automatons anyway, just … Continue reading Drunken shenanigans and shining, blinding, beautiful optimism.