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NewhamHouse of Fun

Today, I'm ill. My throat is swollen and my muscles ache and I could swear that my head has grown to three times its normal size and has been ambushe by a marching band of tiny gnomes who have set up camp in it somewhere between the frontal lobes. Therefore, if this sorry state does nae improve by the end of day I may not be able to make it to the pub quiz after all, voiceofsauron et al. As much as I would like to be there to help your team achieve glory, I fear in my present state I shall be no help at all unless I decimate the opposition by giving them my bug.

Someone at work has wittily suggested I may be incubating the Bird Flu Virus but I replied that it's probably just a strain of the less-malevolent Overwork And Low Pay Flu, but it's probably best for all concerned that I just wall myself up somewhere and drink lots of fluids and not breathe on any human beings.

This morning at the team meeting I just drew a blank and couldn't present the things I was meant to say (it was vexing, i knew what i wanted to talk about but just at that moment I literally couldn't remember any of the words, or put things coherently; but thankfully one of my team just took over and explained things for me and I was able to chime in at the end; it wasn't a big deal, team meetings are not really formal, but still it was embarassing and frustrating).

I did have a rather nice weekend however, travel sagas nonewithstanding.

On Saturday I went over to ultraruby's ultra beautiful house (which took a mere two and a bit hours). I was in West Hampstead for 45 minutes waiting for a train, and to stop me from giving in to despair I twirled poi (thanks to that impromptu practice session, i can now manage the turning weave quite nicely, and have made good progress with split shoulder reels), and someone gave me 50p [hah! in your Jonathon Ross endorsed face martylog!).

Yet despite these stellar busking achievements, I was feeling myself eaten up by melancholy and frustration at the non-appearance of train and just at the point of debating whether to phone up actually_not and go Surprise! who should I see approaching but my own fair sibling who took me off for coffee to remoralise me. And then I came back to the train station to wait some more and make further increasingly demented phonecalls to ultraruby, but the train stunned me by coming and I wondered around Homerton for a bit turning the wrong way down roads and suchlike, and being amused and entertained by a Curry House called Curry in a Hurry which seemed a splendid idea [although i didn't have any, because it could not be as splendid as ultraruby's vegetarian lasagne, and i was late enough as it was].

And then it was on to Stratford, and a party at newhamhouse which contained many things that make me happy like karaoke and fit women wearing rather short skirts [therefore allowing me to indulge one of my LJ interests]. But voiceofsauron brought pizzas, and norantiskitchen baked brownies, and I got to talk to lots of people and admire tjej's legs and all these things made me very happy. And on top of all this multi-sensory joy I talked dogs and American schools with drummygirl, met hollowfulofhat who was witty and pretty and speaks Swedish and has fantastic glasses, and nudejournal who bore a startling resemblance to both my cousin and Harry Potter When He's Grown Up and Prefers Drinking to Quidditch [minus the z shaped scar of course]. I also met some Real Life people who didn't have livejournals which in this day and age is the most shocking thing of all.

Actually, scratch that, I lie. The most shocking thing of all was an Australian woman who had a voice whose irritating pitch was exceeded only by its loudness, and which made me want to drive sharp things into my brain to put my neurones out of their misery. I was sure that by the end of the night my eardrums would start bleeding out of protest and torment [because the only thing worse than the woman speaking was the woman singing, which she insisted on doing as often and as loudly as possible].

And ah, yes, no evening at newhamhouse could be complete without singing, this time done in style with karaoke tjej had downloaded onto her computer. The mike was a bit temperamental, and occasionally the amp would whine with godawful feedback, but it was fun. And my voice doesn't sound as dreadful as I feared [but then again, compared with the Australian Banshee I imagine any voice would sound angelic]. I participated in a few duets which was fun, and provided backing vocals/dance/encouragement with drummygirl which was even more so.

I did one of my favourite duets wtih bluedevi, A Whole New World in which I sang the part of a transgendered Aladdin, who halfway through the song mutated into Jasmine thanks to my inability to follow lyrics on sheet music.

Other notable accomplishments of the evening include burning my lip on pizza cheese, chopping up carrots for soup and not getting any brownie crumbs on voiceofsauron's bed.

And until I've had a chance to download the pictures from my camera,
amuchmoreexotic has the photos Here .

They're brilliant, but the second to last is one of my favourites, for I particularly like how voiceofsauron is getting into his song.

ETA: tjej has pictures here in which you may observe inebriated individuals and my legs.

Comments

ex_humanfema327
Mar. 14th, 2005 05:36 pm (UTC)
thank you.. oops. i cant believe i went up in the loft in those boots. i deserved to die.

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