So I spent yesterday getting in touch with my ‘inner self’. Went to the Global Retreat Centre of the Brahma Kumaris which possibly sounds a lot weirder than it actually was.
The centre is the most amazing 18th century Palladian villa which - given that the organisation is funded entirely by donations - is an incredible feat. The ethos is that volunteers will take better care of a property than ‘paid’ workers and from seeing the theory in action, it’s hard to disagree.
To stick to the physical, our lunch was amazing. At the beginning of the day, we were given a little speech about the ethos of the house and the facts that waste is not tolerated and our lunch would be cooked with love. Well love is very tasty (as was the chickpea soup, super proper chapattis and apple pie).
The meditation was very relaxing and the content was extremely interesting. I think I may have to assimilate it all a little more to really understand and/or decide whether I can really believe it all. Certainly the second session on spirituality freaked me out somewhat but that possibly has something to do with my rather unformed views of life, the universe and everything.
Came away feeling positive and determined to meditate (every day), hmmm…haven’t managed it today which is fairly poor. Need to reschedule and make that extra time in my day which is - in theory - easier because at least it gets light earlier (on dark mornings you have the scenario of 15 extra minutes in bed or dragging your carcass out of the duvet and trying to concentrate on your inner being - guess which one wins?). Well the spirit is willing, I just have to get the flesh co-operating.
So to the material…
Stayed in a really nice hotel last night. No matter what the star rating, it’s the little things in a hotel which make me feel warm and cosy, for example Molton Brown toiletries (always a winner), saying you have forgotten your toothpaste (therefore asking where is the nearest supermarket/chemist?) and being given a little dental kit; cotton wool balls and cotton buds in the bathroom (much under-rated and always appreciated); a free bottle of water (because you know you can’t really drink the water out of the bathroom taps). Just those little things that make you smile (or - if you’re me - make you squeal entirely unnecessarily but quite joyfully). However, on the down side, the room was far too hot which made it stuffy and has not entirely helped ye olde cold.
And then to the realms of ridiculous in the material world. A house two doors down and exactly the same (in terms of layout) to ours has just been put up for sale for the most ridiculous amount of cash. I am actually quite scared about it. In theory it’s a good thing but in practise I am concerned that this house turns into £ signs rather than what I consider its primary focus: my home. I swore when we moved here three and a half years ago that I never wanted to move again and that still holds true. I wonder if that has contributed/is contributing to some rather inappropriate behaviour on my part.
Spent a very pleasant few moments wandering around the food fair at Spitalfields market at lunchtime and picking up a rather delicious roll which made a change from pondering Eat or Soup + Salad for inspiration. Well worth a visit if you’re in the area.
However, I am constantly baffled at the average UK consumer’s relationship with food and, in particular, a singular lack of understanding about where food comes from. One of the stall - in an admittedly bold move - had some of its produce (rabbits and pigeons) displayed in a somewhat unprepared format ie with fur/feathers attached. It didn’t seem that out of context as nearby there was a butchery demonstration and raw meat was available in abundance but it was obviously far too much for one woman who was stood near me. With hyper-ventilation rising, she started squeaking about how there were dead animals on the stall, how it was disgusting and people should be warned. Considering she had already walked past the butchery demonstration and at least one butcher’s stall, not to mention various stalls selling sausages and other meat products, I am guessing she thinks meat comes from some sort of meat growing plant where small seeds are lovingly watered and from them springs forth a lamb chop or two.
I really am most determined to make 2008 happier than the past couple of years (which, let’s face it, shouldn’t be too difficult).
Getting up and back on the tube this morning was a but of a shock to the system but at least the snow has held off so travel chaos hasn’t kicked in…yet. I could be speaking far too soon of course and actually be snowed in at the office later today which would be very depressing.
Visited the Emerald Isle over new year for a wedding which was jolly lovely. The Beloved and I had been whingeing about the timing because going over was SO expensive - plus I think we were both dreading the whole ‘being on show’ element particularly seeing a couple of ‘friends’ who have been decidedly less than supportive in the past 18 months. Actually though it all went rather well. Spent a very quiet NYE as the wedding was the following day. In fact, we just had a couple of drinks and played Scrabble - oh we are wild aren’t we?! But it meant we were on good form for the wedding and not stumbling through the day in a headachey haze.
The wedding was held at Barberstown Castle and a jolly nice place it was too - a shame we were only there one night really as I would have liked to have spent much more time moving from the gorgeous bathroom with its complimentaty L’Occitane goodies to the deliciously comfortable four poster bed, all wrapped up in my snuggly dressing gown. Although one tiny criticism was the rather nouvelle cuisine sized Irish breakfast - Irish breakfasts should be huge at all times!
We really were frightfully well-behaved at the wedding too and in bed by about 1 - unlike some people who apparently didn’t go to bed till 6 (what is the point of actually going to bed at 6? Surely better just to stay up and have breakfast)! Unfortunately this abstemious behaviour didn’t mean we escaped the hangover. Well it wasn’t so much a hangover (ie thumping head and vomity tummy) more of a sleep deprivation issue (thanks in no small part to the party goers who were running up and down the corridor of the hotel at various points in the night - are they 10 years old?!) so we spent much of yesterday being very tired and quiet and wishing we were at home in our beds and not having to deal with driving, airports and trains. Despite this though, it was a jolly good way to start a new year.
So off I went to the O2 again last night (thinking of getting a season ticket at this rate). I was strangley nervous which is an odd sensation before a concert but I just didn’t want to not enjoy it as much as last week (do I tie myself up in knots over the stupidest things or what?).
I needn’t have worried.
Strangely though the concert was completely different. Don’t know whether that was because last Wednesday was the first night or because we were sat in different seats (in the gods, luckily we remembered the binoculars) but everything - from the songs to the costumes; from the atmosphere to Prince’s whole demeanour. Last week he seemed to be cheeky and up for a party; last night he was the consummate showman.
Much fewer Planet Earth tracks, many more “classics” including some long-forgotten (on my part) numbers. He started with last week’s encore - an acoustic medley of Little Red Corvette, Raspberry Beret, I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man, Alphabet Street and Sometimes it Snows in April. Then into funky rock pop show spectacular (although no glitter or confetti this week) then just Prince and the piano which was new and fabulous - at last I got to hear Diamonds and Pearls having been teased both last week and at the One Night Alone gig in Hammersmith in 2002. He put Purple Rain back in a more expected place as an encore song - although what is an encore and what is “Prince just popping off for a quick rubdown” is very unclear.
I got most excited when he performed Do Me Baby which had been a real snogfest track when I was at college. In fact I would hazard a guess that a reasonably large percentage of girls I knew were ‘persuaded’ to take the lyrics quite literally by some young men who modelled themselves on the ultra Prince fan in my year* and was known for his incredible success with the prettiest laydeez. I would hasten to point out that I did not partake in this sort of activity.
Unfortunately I think I have exhausted the possibilities of any more nights with Prince (sell out between now and me going away) but I urge you to beg, borrow or steal to get a ticket if you can.
* The ultra prince fan in my year at college was Calum Bain, a wee Scottish chap who found himself marooned in Southampton (a come down belive me). We had our ups and downs (he dated several of my friends and broke their hearts etc) but he was a really nice guy. He disappeared in 1991 and my thoughts are with his family who must suffer on a daily basis. Wherever he is, let’s hope he’s enjoying the purple rain.
I am going again - this Tuesday! Very excited.
Went to see Prince last night at the O2 and he was in playful mood. He was also in fantastic, musically brilliant, whip-the-audience-into-a-frenzy mood.
Opening with Purple Rain, we knew we were in for a special night.
Those expecting purely a greatest hits concert may have been disappointed but most were not. Yes, things did go off a bit in the middle with some longish jazz-inspired instrumentals but if you’ve followed Prince through the years (and not just his hits of the 80s and 90s) then you would have expected that. Jazz is not my thing but Prince puts such funk into it that you can’t help but tap your toes, swing your hips and generally get with the groove.
I thought Purple Rain was the high point of the show but that doesn’t mean the concert went downhill after the first song. It’s just the opener was awesome. Apparently he’s prepared 150 songs to play over the 21 nights of his residency and I would love to go back to hear them all.
Went to the O2 last night to see the Scissor Sisters. First off, the venue. I think it’ll be great when it’s finished. I don’t mean that in a derogatory way but there is still a lot of construction going on outside and there are a fair few empty spaces inside. It was fairly rammed; long queues at every restaurant and as for the queue for the ladies: unbelievable. The actual arena is great though (a lot more toilets for a start), views of the stage look nice and clear (although we had pretty good seats so hard to comment what it might have been like in the tier above the executive boxes).
All seems well organised and looking forward to going there again (this Wednesday in fact!).
So to those New York pop divas. They were fabulous darling. We’d both been a bit nervous because last time we saw them was rocking the Brixton Academy so we weren’t entirely sure if a venue 10 times the size was going to dilute their shimmery sassyness.
We needn’t have worried. Wearing more spangles than you’d find at a 70s’ sweet convention, they looked great and Mr Shears does have one of the most pleasantly toned bods around (not that he’d be remotely interested in my opinion), perhaps the teeny tiny lame hot pants at the end were overstepping the camp mark even for him though. The sound was shaky for about two thirds of the first track (She’s My Man) but after a bit of knob-twiddling (it’s a technical term) all was well.
Highlights were a funkier rendition of Filthy/Gorgeous, a swoopingly melodic Mary (dedicated to the absent Paddy Boom and his mother who died earlier this month), Comfortably Numb and Return to Oz - who am I kidding, it was all fab even those ‘don’t really know them’ second album fillers.
I haven’t bought much music recently (apart from my slightly scary iTunes addiction) but I think I’m off to get Ta Da as soon as I can.
