Mysterious women, thrashing guitars and hacking limbs - 04/09/2006

Kept my eyes peeled for the misery today but to no avail. Maybe it wasn't a bad thing, she's this high class, high maintenance honey and here I am looking gangsta with a mo haircut, combats and a baseball shirt. I wouldn't want to talk to me.

After my grumblings, and they still remain, about all the quiz programmes on the TV I found myself sucked in by one of them. It's good research though as it allows me to slate them even more intensely.

I started watching on Tuesday night as one of the presenters is this reasonably attractive, curvy blonde. I gave the show some minutes whilst I waited for a wide angled shot to see what she was wearing. The question was Down__________ and I waited for the host of calls to come in to correctly guess the answer. People called in but no one seemed to say down under which I thought was incredibly obvious. The cheapest prize on offer was £4,000 and with their continual goddam talking and encouragement of you to call up thought that no one was phoning the show.

I succumbed and thought 'sod it' I'll give it one go. I dialed the number and it came up engaged. As that hadn't cost anything I tried again. This time the recorded message kicked in saying "let's see if you will be put through to the studio" a pause, then a recorded audience groan and a "sorry you have not made it through". The rub though is that during all this time the woman on the telly hadn't taken a single call. I realise it's a money making scam but you do get the impression that they are encouraging you to call because no one else is. In reality they are pleading with you to call yet have hundreds of callers that they choose simply not to take or put on hold, which must be even more frustrating when you can see by watching the show that they aren't taking calls. About five minutes later someone called in and said down under, which amazingly wasn't there as wasn't downtown or downloaded. I went away and brushed my teeth, got a drink and came back and still they hadn't had one correct answer, bearing in mind there were 10 down________'s to choose from. Hey, I salute the cleverness at getting people to call up, including myself, but it is fascinating how they can be so openly devious.

There was another one I saw when I was flicking through the channels. I must add at this point that I realise I'm coming across as a serial watcher but come 11.30 on freeview there must be 7-8 different channels showing this crap. I know I could switch off and go to bed but I'm a virtual insomniac so late night tv is my refuge. Anyway there was this one show where the question was hot_________. One had been guessed correctly as hot water but they were so desperate for someone to get another that they offered a clue saying it was part of the body. Naturally hot headed is screaming in your mind at this point. They also offered a clue that is related to _______and crossbones. Ok so that's skull which in turn is the head, so yeah hot headed. No, the actual answer was hot skull!!!! What the fuck is that? How is that a saying, you might as well phone in and if lucky enough to get through say something completely obscure like hot celery or hot thimble.

I saw the misery, I think I will now call her the mystery as it is a bit more enigmatic, on Wednesday morning. I was driving into Blackheath as I always do, I looked up the road as I approached a junction and there she was waiting to cross. I slowed to let her over and she kind of motioned with her hand but naturally didn't smile. She did though make eye contact with me. I don't mean this in a 'she obviously wants me' way but rather that if I stopped and attempted to make an approach it might look even dodgier. I felt this knot begin to appear in the pit of my stomach as I considered whether I should still try and hand her a card. My only option was to get far enough ahead that I could sensibly park up and then walk back.

Unfortunately the traffic was solid and I crept along at about the same pace that she walked. It did give me an opportunity to look at her a bit more but with my stomach unease spreading I seemed over cautious that I would be spotted doing so. Today she was wearing a black skirt, white blouse and tourqoiuse jumper. The blouse was sticking out of the bottom of the jumper at the back as if she'd rushed to put it on. In someone that looks so controlled and confident, the hint of normality was quite endearing. It's funny what picture you paint of someone just from looking at them. I've not seen her smile and this leads me to think that either she is a miserable, stuck up cow who never smiles and doesn't have to because men still approach regardless or maybe because she hasn't a great deal to smile about yet just needs a genuine, sincere guy to warm her up.

I can't imagine her being happy with fish'n'chips and a coke and I think she would probably size me up and dismiss me in all but a few minutes but it's this in a way which intrigues me. She is so hopelessly out of my league that it's the notion that maybe I could break through and make a connection, even if it was "get out of my face, you freak". I can be pretty dismissive of pretty or naturally gifted girls, as a pathetic ego protector I'm sure, and I'm curious to see whether she would confirm or contradict my preconceptions.

The day was fairly mediocre and I left the office around 7.40ish to head to the gym. Whilst driving over the heath I was stunned to see mystery girl again. Blimey, this was freaky. Although I looked imbecilic thanks to a colleague penning my tramlines with highlighter I thought I should act on this amazing coincidence. She was walking towards me, wearing the same clothes which is how I managed to recognize her out of the corner of my eye, and I assumed heading to the garage that I'd just passed on the left. I couldn't stop on this road as it is a dual carriageway and thus took the next right, right and right again to bring me into a cul de sac. I grabbed my card and hurried back to the garage. Needless to say she was nowhere to be seen and had just vanished. I wasn't going to try to engage her in lengthy conversation but just tell her that I'd seen her in a bar 6 or 7 weeks ago and then seen her in the mornings when driving through the village. Just tell her that I thought she was very pretty and that I was intrigued to know whether her personality was as attractive as her appearance and then simply hand her the card.

Was I relieved, I don't know. It calmed the low swirling sensation that had begun to build and which I'd hoped to overcome by acting so impulsively and quickly. I wouldn't normally do this and I swear I'm not stalking her but it was just so damn coincidental after having seen her that morning that I felt I had to do something. It is amazing that of all the women I've seen when I've been out in Blackheath that this is the only one who I've regularly seen again. It felt funny to be out of the car at a place that I'd normally just speed through and in a way I felt alive to break the routine a little.

Decided to scrub the gym and instead headed home to watch Seabiscuit which I'd borrowed off a colleague. I'd seen it before and had been pestering her to watch it as I knew she would enjoy it. Despite her stubborness when she did see it, she loved it and it made me want to see it again. Man it was great to watch it again, the last time I'd seen it must have been two years previously, and I'm sure it made me enjoy it even more. It's so sumptiously shot, the characters are well acted and likeable, there isn't a typical bad guy to dislike and watching it made me feel warm inside. The struggling against adversity, the underdog coming through in both seabiscuit and those around him struck a far greater chord than they had the first time. I really like the notion that Seabiscuit was a real character and I particularly identified with his fondness of sleeping in and eating well. The Cassandra Crossing was on telly that night aswell, which I watched. It's got Sophia Loren and Richard Harris, wearing his blackest trousers and jumper to provide an even greater contrast with his youthful golden hair. It isn't a great film by any stretch of the imagination but like some other films it reminds me of being able to stay up late when I was younger. If a film was good or on a Friday night my mum would let me stay up late and it was films like this which offered the first taste of that delicious treat.

Managed to book the Barcelona trip on Thursday through Expedia. Their processes were a little drawn out meaning that I ended up looking at some other agents like Travelocity, Opodo and others but none seemed to offer this fantastic hotel that I'd discovered. By booking the holiday in two lots, four and a three, we managed to go through Expedia and in a way it felt cool to have seen just how new or exclusive Hotel 1898 is as no other company featured it. It's a relief to know that it's been booked and now the task of internet information gathering can begin. I generated this big folder of information for when we went to Las Vegas as I didn't want to waste a moment when I arrived fumbling around deciding what to do. Barcelona will be the same and also I want to show my bosses how excited I am at going and in turn my gratitude for treating us to it.

Talking of information gathering I went into sponge mode on Seabiscuit and did a fair bit of digging on this. It was refreshing to see how close the film was to some of the things that happened to Seabiscuit, particularly his legendary race with War Admiral, which uncharacteristically for a Hollywood film was a virtual carbon copy of the actual race. It's a really fascinating story and I found it opened my eyes to a tiny insight into the world of thoroughbred racing. As well as reading about Seabiscuit, I was fascinated by stories of his great rival War Admiral and also two of the greatest american thoroughbreds Man O' War and Secretariat, who apparently had a heart twice as big as an average thoroughbred. Watched Underworld:Evolution that evening which was formulaic and boring. It seemed to get so caught up in trying to fashion a clever plot, which was confusing and distracting, that the film around the story was an almost boring re-run of the first film. The final fight, which I fell asleep through at one point, was virtually the same as the first with both heroes fighting their requisite bad guys at the same time. And then look out here comes a helicopter crashing through the ceiling, but look it's rotors are still whirring round, no surely the bad guy won't be killed by being pushed into the rotors will he? You catch my drift.

My mate discovered that the UK Air Guitar championships were taking place in Islington on Friday night so we decided to check it out. I must confess at this point that it was only about five years ago that I discovered that an air guitar wasn't a real instrument! Let me explain. When I was younger I was really into Jean Michel Jarre and one of his tricks at his concerts was playing a 'laser harp'. This was a machine that fired up about seven different lasers beams that when he broke with his gloved hands produced a sound. Of course this was all electronically set up but if you could get a laser harp, was the notion of an air guitar being a real instrument so strange?
Anyway we went along to the Carling Islington Academy and it was a fun crowd. Some of the performers were useless but a couple put real passion and effort into their performances and it was certainly entertaining. My two favourites of the evening were Count Rockula and the Hoxton Reaper. Count Rockula performed in a headband, raincoat with collar turned up and a black, knee length, low cut leotard. What really made his performance though was the passion in his face. Lots of bulging eyes and temples, shoved out lips and wild expressions. This guy really got into his act and played the shit out of that air guitar. It was a really close call but he was pipped into second place by the Hoxton Reaper. Now this guy performed in white linen trousers, a tight white lycra top that had a hint of the Freddie Mercury about it and wore this outstanding handle bar moustache (unsure whether it was real). This guy had passion but also real talent and his timing on his pretend instrument was to perfection. He did look like he was playing a guitar and knew just the right time to go slow, perform a full arm swing strum or nail the ultimate fret wank.

We left here when it kicked out, around 10ish, and went to another nearby bar but the atmosphere felt decidely 'edgy' like a fight could kick off at any minute and that isn't our kind of bag. We left and whilst deciding where to head onto next, got chatting to three people who we'd been standing next to at the Air Guitar thing. One of the girls was this really friendly northerner, who asked and then couldn't believe we were single as we were all so nice. She asked why I was single and to save her the long winded explanation thought I'd present her with a card. She has a long term partner, which was fine, but as she enquired I thought I would elaborate. We even discussed how she preferred the cards that are printed on the stock that have an almost suede like feel on the back. It's called curious touch and I admired her attention in noticing it.

I knew I wasn't going out again socially over the weekend so brother and I planned a lazy one involving food, games and DVD's. I think my brother was keen to have some Poulet de Marge again after reading about me cooking it in the office so we hit Tesco's and the DVD store. While he played an Xbox game that I'd hired called Spartan:Total Warrior I got to work prepping the chicken. I'd played this game about a year previously and it had stuck in the back of my mind for some time. The graphics in the game are excellent, the music is this wicked mix of gladiator-esque chants and thumping bass, it's very bloody and cathartic and some of the battles that you get involved in are huge with AI characters running around and really making you feel in the middle of an ancient blood and sandals warzone. As seemed to be the norm this week, he hadn't wanted to play it but once he'd performed his first blood spraying beheading and radial shield bash he was hooked.

I cooked the dinner while he carried on and I've got to say that I created a wonderful feast. I'd cleaned the chip pan out with fresh oil and got some steak chips, we had a mound of egg and crumbed chicken, sorry Poulet de Marge, a bowl of baked beans, another bowl with mushrooms that had been slow cooked in butter and had a little cream added just at the end, buttered baguette and some coke. It might not have been healthy but if was filling and was like some kind of Walton's family spread, even though there was only two of us eating it. You must think I'm a fat bastard but we gorged ourselves and it was good. I must prepare it again for us as our birthdays are soon to be here and it was the standout meal of the weekend. We followed it with Final Destination 3, which was disappointing. Ok I wasn't expecting Shakespeare and had discounted the films until I caught the second half of Final Destination 2 a year back which was ok. As this started with a big rollercoaster accident we thought we'd check it out. I didn't like the characters, the deaths/accidents were telegraphed like a early learning film and it was generally forgettable.

Sunday was really a continuation of the previous day. We both continued to kick some arse on Spartan before watching the film Running Scared starring Paul Walker. There's something about this actor that I really like. You could say he's a surfer dude type and probably not the most gifted actor but for me he has a real presence that I like and the film was surprisingly good. Violent, entertaining and enjoyable. This one was my brothers choice so top marks to him. We had to get the DVD's and game back to the shop for 5.30 but we just had to beat this end of level boss and it was bugging the hell out of the two of us who were taking turns trying to put him down. If the controller wasn't being thrown to the ground in tearful rage then foul expletives were being almost screamed at the telly with dramatic storming out of the rooms by each of us at we kept losing. We began to discover a way of doing him and it might sound sad for grown men but when my bro took that swine down it was a genuine, hugging, high fiving, eureka moment. No sooner had his pixellated blood dried on the computer generated dusty ground that we had fought him on that we had to return it to the shop. We had our victory and we were happy. Watched Blade II again that night, which is still mucho quality and the adult comic book action flick that all should be judged by.

Until we talk again.