Friday, May 20, 2005

The mighty instananeousness of the electronic media. Flicked through a hard copy of this week's The Stage that was kicking about the office and noted my absence but, yipee doo, my thoughts on my recent night out in York have been posted well in advance of print publication on their website. Having bitten the bullet and paid the long-overdue water rates and gas bill, thoughts are turning to the weekend. A social-cum-shopping excursion to York tomorrow and a Sunday spent at Ikea, where we need to buy a bed and eat Swedish meatballs to the point where we feel as if we might throw up over all that Scandinavian furniture. Daughter has spurned her access to me this weekend in favour of spending time round at her friends, which is both cool and, well, I guess a sign that she's growing up and beyond the need for heavy-handed in-yer-face parenting and entertainment provided by her embarrassing dad.

A reader calls to ask where she could buy a new book by an author we ran a piece on. The simple answer was "a book shop". Is it me or are the majority of people idiots and totally lacking in common sense and initiative? "An ISBN number," she said, "what's that?" I thanked her for calling and reading the paper when I actually meant something completely different and rather rude. I love my job.

No comments: