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...but you'll probably see the connection. No spoilers, natch, because I don't know any and am looking to keep it that way.
Yesterday, I went to London through torrential rain to the BBC Power to the People aftershow party. I'm lucky, actually, that I got there and back safely - all the stations round about were beginning to flood by this morning, and some of the Underground was closed. Of course, I got soaked a grand total of four times and was stuck at Crewe for hours anyway, but never mind, I'm home with six hours to spare.
Anyway! Yes, I went to London, had a coffee with Ben where we both bemoaned our complete lack of future plan, he went off to Oxford to start rehearsals for Xenu... and I went to the party. It was being held at a painfully hip wine bar called Strawberry Moons, off Regent's Street somewhere, with cocktails courtesy of the BBC, and met up with loads of people I knew, who were all pleased to see me, and after a few daquiris was feeling very well-disposed towards the world. (My boss wasn't there - she had her baby last week and is understandably tied up at present.)
So, one of the other runners asked me what I'd been up to since, and I said, the usual, university, bookshop work, nothing much, what about you? She said, sheepishly, that through a convoluted sequence of circumstances, had got to be interpreter for the president of Brazil.
"Oh, Lula!" I said, far too enthusiastically. Off her look, I explained that I live with a cheerfully patriotic Brazilian who tells me about her country's politics on a regular basis, and of course, how can you forget a name like "Lula"? It trips far too easily off the tongue.
"Do you know what it means?" she said.
I shook my head.
"Squid."
"Brazil," I said slowly, "is led by President Squid?"
"Yep."
And they say politics is dull.
(Actually, speaking of which, I note with interest that large amounts of Brown's Cabinet have admitted to smoking pot in their teenage years. Of the twenty-one members of said Cabinet, eight are Oxford PPEists. So is David Cameron. I am choosing to draw absolutely no connection between these three statements.)
Three hours before I have to be at work. Heee.
Yesterday, I went to London through torrential rain to the BBC Power to the People aftershow party. I'm lucky, actually, that I got there and back safely - all the stations round about were beginning to flood by this morning, and some of the Underground was closed. Of course, I got soaked a grand total of four times and was stuck at Crewe for hours anyway, but never mind, I'm home with six hours to spare.
Anyway! Yes, I went to London, had a coffee with Ben where we both bemoaned our complete lack of future plan, he went off to Oxford to start rehearsals for Xenu... and I went to the party. It was being held at a painfully hip wine bar called Strawberry Moons, off Regent's Street somewhere, with cocktails courtesy of the BBC, and met up with loads of people I knew, who were all pleased to see me, and after a few daquiris was feeling very well-disposed towards the world. (My boss wasn't there - she had her baby last week and is understandably tied up at present.)
So, one of the other runners asked me what I'd been up to since, and I said, the usual, university, bookshop work, nothing much, what about you? She said, sheepishly, that through a convoluted sequence of circumstances, had got to be interpreter for the president of Brazil.
"Oh, Lula!" I said, far too enthusiastically. Off her look, I explained that I live with a cheerfully patriotic Brazilian who tells me about her country's politics on a regular basis, and of course, how can you forget a name like "Lula"? It trips far too easily off the tongue.
"Do you know what it means?" she said.
I shook my head.
"Squid."
"Brazil," I said slowly, "is led by President Squid?"
"Yep."
And they say politics is dull.
(Actually, speaking of which, I note with interest that large amounts of Brown's Cabinet have admitted to smoking pot in their teenage years. Of the twenty-one members of said Cabinet, eight are Oxford PPEists. So is David Cameron. I am choosing to draw absolutely no connection between these three statements.)
Three hours before I have to be at work. Heee.
