The wisdom of the soiree…

Good grief - what a disturbing picture is emerging from a recent survey of attitudes to rape victims. Women had better not have a trusting attitude in our society, no no no. We should stick to our sorry corners, shooting suspicious glances in all directions.

Yep. The world is looking a bit more frightening in general. My peaceful law-abiding sister was threatened with bailiffs this week.

“I have unwittingly incurred the Victorian Wrath of the Council,” she said. “I was not eligible to pay [tax]. I have informed them of this. An email from them suggested that was that, but now I've got a letter from them saying they'll be sending the bailiffs round next week to 'remove my goods and chattels' (my chattels? Am I a medieval wench?) unless I pay the money straightaway.”

Hmm. If logic doesn't prevail I suppose I could chain myself to her door in protest.

On Saturday, my boyfriend and I went to see a play called Money, which was terribly trendy and cutting edge. I was blown away by the warehouse setting and artistic touches (such as policemen in riot gear, handing out balloons!).

I was disappointed, however, by the lack of story. I could sense a theme, and wowee, the action took place above us and below us, all over the place! We could get involved, too, which was fun, throwing bouncy balls around.

"Thankyou for your money!" they said.

Fair enough, but while you were fannying about with cigars and perambulators, or whatever it is you avant-gardeians do, I thought you were going to tell me something?

"Bah!" we said, running off into the darkness. "Pseudo-surrealists!" That was that. The lack of any real message was enough to make me wish we'd seen this play instead.

Headed straight from there to a house party which was a bit more enlightening. Somebody talked to me about the concept of entropy (loosely, chaos) and how it relates to India at the moment.

It proved quite complicated.

On a less cogent note, I overheard this drunken heart-to-heart between two revellers:

“I think you’re actually quite shatteringly normal," she philosophised. "What do you dream about?”

“Well," he ventured. "I had a dream about ducks the other day.”

She sighed. “I don’t know anything about ducks. I’m a vegetarian.”

…??

Perhaps she has taken it to a new level, and erased animals from her consciousness.

So I walked from Saturday to Sunday laughing about that. Sunday was Valentines Day wasn't it? What fun. My boyfriend took me to see the least appropriate film imaginable. Lots of blood and beatings! It proved a highly visceral experience.

I also visited a friend of mine in Cambridge yesterday. We went to the Zoology Museum and giggled at the grinning skeletal creatures. It was quite inspiring, artistically I mean. I scrawled some comics on the train and hope to post them here, when they’re rendered more competently in pen.

I didn't realise until I wrote this that a lot has happened in the past few days… Life has seemed relatively sedate after the intensity of the journalism course, which is now over. I've got 100wpm shorthand and everything, hooray.

So what's next? There's work experience pending on the Isle of Wight, but I am quite urgently looking for a source of income. In between applications, I have discovered Axe Cop, straight from the mind of a five year old genius.

I’ve also set up a flickr account for my prettier photos. :)