Friday, October 01, 2004

"I have requested - will get back to you with confirmation closer to the time" for Avril Lavigne! Ha ha! The pain I am willing to suffer for my children (and it's wrong, surely, for me to express my thoughts on how Avril is blossoming into a lovely young woman...isn't it?). Today's top freebie, though, is a promise of a free pint of treacle-style real ale from CAMRA's (the web police inform me that "The Websense category 'Alcohol and Tobacco' is filtered.") local chairman at a beer festival that is taking place just up the road, right now. Right now! What am I still doing at my desk?!??!

Somewhere, on the front of a Toyota Yaris, there is a flashing neon that advises other motorists "pull out in front of me whenever you fancy. I am merely a small car and my driver is non-aggressive and keen to let you do as you like". Or that's what I'm beginning to think. At least six times yesterday I found myself having to break to stop running into cars that had placed themselves in front of my car rather than wait for an appropriate gap at a junction. I try not to get ragey whilst driving but, grrrrrrr, someone took real offence to me using the full length of a slip road during a traffic snarl up on the A64 before pulling into the barely-moving traffic (everyone else stopped at the beginning of the slip road, thus causing yet more hold-ups). I felt the wrath of a Vauxhall Cavalier's horn, and reacted with a two-fingered salute. Cue woman who's never seen the Highway Code jumping up and down and waving her arms about as if Insulin was required. There's a lot of talk about France being a nightmare in which to drive but at least drivers on the continent like to travel in traffic that flows constantly. If you have a fast car behind you, you acknowledge the fact by letting it through rather than holding everyone up. I particularly liked what I saw on Polish roads, where drivers of slow moving vehicles on single lane roads pulled to one side to let traffic through without any hesitation. Only tractor drivers do that in Britain. Apologies, so far this is a boring blog entry aimed solely at those that drive.

Party time tonight. M's cousin is having an engagement bash at "the biggest Chinese restaurant in the country" (TM & © Mr Chu's China Palace). It is a chance for me to demonstrate my intricate dancing and drinking skills to a roomfull of M's extended family, thus running the risk of never getting invited to any future parties. I worry about what I shall wear, whether they will think that I'm too old for breakdancing and wearing Vans trainers, and if they'll like me after 8 pints. But the alternative is to sit in the corner eating sea weed and Peking Duck.

Good news: The trip to the coast has been abandoned.

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