Blimey...
Best laid plans of mice and men. We had plans galore for Christmas. In the end did bugger all. Walks in the country, tidying the house, wild rampant sex. All came to naught.
Vegetate, relax, eat, drink.
I'm sure it does us good. However, I am now convinced that alcohol is the root of all evil. Sadly, being approaching middle-aged, I am no longer capable of making a fool of myself with 'hol. Can't take the pace. Really can't take the pace. Two snowballs of an evening and the next day is ruined. Now, if I cut out alcohol completely, I'd be an energised raring to go bunny. Perhaps.
We had a quiet Christmas at home. We had a good New Years Eve at a lovely restaurant up at Crystal Palace
When appropriate I have people-watched and formed thoughts, arising from my observations. If I have any New Year Resolution at all it is to find a way. The thing is, I am sick of being put down by people of limited intelligence or sheer hypocrisy. When it turns out that I am right, or have the moral high ground, I do not know a way of informing them of this and their foregoing rudeness without being rude myself. Often in very trivial circumstances. It happened again at the Barbican on Saturday night. In a queue for the loos. There's no need to queue, but I'm insufficiently assertive. I asked the woman forming the queue whether there were any free cubicles. In the most patronising sneering manner and a voice full of plums - but with that characteristic inarticulacy of the posh and stupid - she said, "It seems not." She really wanted to add "You common urban person."
In marches a Dowager of 70, right past the queue and straight into an empty cubicle. Taking courage from the no-nonsense I don't give a shit attitude I so adore in women like that, I too went past the queue and, of course, found an empty cubicle. I wanted to turn to Mrs Snobby of Surrey and say something really rude. Or else find the appropriate snappy way of saying, "Look mate, it's all very well being posh and stuck-up and looking down your nose on the likes of me who propose solutions. But you're thick and clueless and very very rude." If it had been a Student of 20 rather than a Dowager of 70 I'm sure Mrs Snob of Buckinghamshire would have made remarks.
What I also don't like is oikishness. There was a huge crowd on the table behind us. A couple of men were so full of themselves. the sort of Gamma Minuses who need to prove their imagined Alpha Maleism to the sister-in-law. I shuddered as to how they addressed the waiting staff. "A bo'le of the house red darlin' " Ooh, classy. Then "Get the drinks down 'ere, girl." "Oi, are we ge'in' any drinks bibe?" Not aggressive as such, just oikish.
Whereas me, I'm "A bottle of ...whatever please." When it comes. "Thank you." A smile. Sometimes the please is followed by a nonchalant 'when you're ready...' Not because I'm a sweet humble person but because I'm self-interested. You see, pleases and thank-yous make an impact. An indication that you're not expecting them to run round like a headless chicken and offer obeisance works wonders. The wine comes more quickly. They are eager to catch our eye. We co-exist in that world of down-to-earth commercial transaction.
All I want to do is keep myself to myself, float along in pleasantness and good humour. And so do most people by my observation. Then the stupid or self-centred small minority act in an aggravating way, and you're left on the horns of a dilemma - do I adopt doormat mode or do I assert common sense.
Mind you, I'm still sniggering at the two gym-toned bimbos who turned up at ten for a plate of salad and a soft drink, glared at everybody who was smoking or drinking or talking or bursting balloons, and left at quarter past eleven. It's all very well working effortfully for the body beautiful and sneering at the slobbish lushes, but a) we're enjoying ourselves and b) we stand a chance of getting laid. Whereas you, you might be off to a party where you'll pick up a casual one night stand, if he's too pissed to notice how boring you are. But I'm not sure you'd know what to do when you did. And you're hardly a bundle of fun with your salads, soft drinks and car keys. Can't lose control. Resent other people having a good time.
