There’s not a doubt in anyone’s mind that the police are really out in force today. On my journey, looking up from my book at just three stops, I managed to count a total of 15 officers, not to mention Community Support Officers.
Its a strange clash of feelings – I know we’re meant to feel safer with more security on the tubes, but the mere presence of so many police almost seems to tip the balance towards wondering just why there are so many – is this how our stations would be should the force be adequately manned and funded, or are they expecting something new?
Today is Thursday, and nothing has happened today, despite many people’s trepidation over a third week’s attacks. Hopefully the 9 arrests made this morning in Tooting, those in Birmingham earlier in the week and other arrests made around the capital will be strong moves towards some sort of resolution, whether actual or emotional, for the people who still travel on the network daily.
There’s something quite magical about rain. I’d be lying if I said I prefer the sun in England to the rain but it certainly brings out the scum of society. Somewhat like the dirt washing into the gutters, the people who think it okay to push, shove and otherwise be rude pour back into the tube after a brief spell of catching the bus or cycling to work. Maybe i’m in the wrong city to complain about commuting.
Something which had previously brightened the already damp day though, was a man and his girlfriend who deemed it suitable to be walking in the middle of the road rather than on the pavement on their way to work. He looked like he worked for an estate agent, and she looked like the sort of trophy that he’d talk to in a bar.
When a car driving towards them sounded its horn to make them aware of its approach, the girl simply stuck out her arm and extended her middle finger, probably thinking it hilariously witty and rebellious. Needless to say, the car immediatly pulled to a halt just ahead of the couple – resulting, no doubt, in that horrible lurching feeling when your heart drops into your stomach pre-empting someone unleashing hell on you with their tire iron.
Fortunatly for the driver, he didn’t unleash hell, but I’d say the lack of blood in the girl’s face was satisfaction enough for all.
Word of the day: sardine.
Was two hours late for getting to Lyme Regis for B’s birthday and I’d lost my suit.
I’d given it to someone in the park the previous night, whilst my brother was with Scarlett Johansen at the house we grew up in. Couldn’t decide whether to go or not because I didn’t have suit – but eventually we made a start to get there, and my parent drove us, but we couldn’t find parking. It wasn’t the real Lyme, but the version of it which I’ve visited before (some bastard child of the three way love-in between Venice, Blackpool and Matlock Bath), and I got so annoyed with them, I eventually just got out of the car at the town before and tried to catch a train, although got caught up in a bank raid involving myself and the A-Team in LA, and then escaping in their van. Its quite nicely upholstered inside.
Eventually got to Lyme, and it wasn’t a real wedding anyway, just a party in a marquee.
Word of the day: precipitation.
Its 23.47 on a saturday night/sunday morning – what better time to restart a season of journal entries.
As I reliably stop writing journals as often as I begin them, you can rest well in the comfort of knowing that this, unlike a reality tv show series, will come to an end within the space of possible two to three weeks. What we hope to achieve with this little column in its fruit fly mortality rate duration is three things. Observation, Documentation and Procrastination.
Observation – i’ll try and say something that happened in the day that i write. It may not be relevant to you or others’ lives, but those are the breaks. This is a blog – pointless, inane, anecdotal crap. Live with it.
Documentation – i’m happy for you to know what i ate/drank/pooped/watched/smelt/dropped/lost, as long as you keep in mind point #1
Procrastination – i’m not sure who this is more relevant to, you or I, but either way, the writing or reading of this column is wasting time which could always be used in the persuit of happiness, a cure for world ills or simply something less banal (see point #1) – but hey, the internet needs filling with personal crap to reduce the amount of room for commercial crap, right?
Day 1 of a new blife (contraction of blog and life, no really).
Watched 7 episodes of scrubs. Ate seven mini dime bars. Cycled a pointless circle. Ate shellfish.
Word of the day: Ulna.