tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58315222011-04-21T21:40:06.662+01:00not enough drew in the world<br> <a href="mailto:drew.daviesNO@SPAMgmail.com">Yeah, yeah, email me</a><br>Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comBlogger5641100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1137429950611391282006-01-16T16:19:00.000Z2006-07-03T12:28:40.076+01:00Hello/GoodbyeAs friends who read this blog have pointed out – there really hasn’t been enough Drew in the world lately (insert laughter/new friends). There’s been a busy Christmas (in Dublin, the first with my Dad), a book to finish (not quite) and other blogs - kitchen, light, rug and chair ones to be exact (link to them and I’ll love you forever).In the month since I posted last, I’ve cried at Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1133801695619093192005-12-05T16:51:00.000Z2005-12-06T15:28:51.126ZLust in TranslationHow are you? I im sleepy. Have gest got home. And you?Oh dear, his English isn’t very good. Well that doesn’t matter. We had a connection. And a connection like ours is more than language, more than the physical - though the physical was pretty good as well. Mental note: I should start trimming again. Just because its winter, doesn’t mean I should get tardy with my manscaping.IDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1133198645896947612005-11-28T17:23:00.000Z2005-11-28T17:24:51.323ZBeing a bit out of practice, I’d forgotten how wonderful it is to date someone you actually like. The highlights include:• Crippling self analysis• Heightened feelings of vulnerability• Loss of all humour• Instant body dismorphia• Incessant giggling• Inability to write in EnglishI can’t wait for the jealousy, miscommunication and random hand-holding to kick in either.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1132833213333207952005-11-24T11:46:00.000Z2005-11-24T11:53:33.336ZDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1132571872748746072005-11-21T11:15:00.000Z2005-11-21T11:17:52.760Z"Even more than in America, British regional accents are the key to deciphering class and social stature. Does he speak with a crisp London clip? A slurry cockney? Does it matter? No, because they all sound freaking adorable. What do you care?"(from Is He Cute or Is He British?)Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1132324410031962172005-11-18T14:32:00.000Z2005-11-18T14:33:30.046ZI went to a bar!Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1131712366008292252005-11-11T12:31:00.000Z2005-11-11T12:32:46.030ZI’m off to Madrid for a long weekend with eleven of my nearest and dearest. On my return, exciting new things will be happening around here. I’m going to let you into a few secret projects that have been brewing over the past few months and I’ll also start writing about my life again – maybe even reveal what the book is about. Have a great weekend and I’ll see you Tuesday to come. Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1131210342892056202005-11-05T17:03:00.000Z2005-11-05T17:07:25.496ZOne of the characters in my novel is a poet. A goofy kind of poet. This is something I wrote for him, but it hasn't made the final cut.The Traders Rum Black raps Tom Thumb taps Blacken, twist They perch with me Wendel barter Broken, raw Drink them blind Spend my mind A gutted East, the Priest Will hark Falling, pawing Savouring The kill Till pecked and pluckedDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1131013025139764342005-11-03T10:16:00.000Z2005-11-03T10:51:42.590ZThe Great Unknown Things I kind of understand - kind of, but not really RSS the phrase “post modern” grammar (especially, commas) HTML The stockmarket Pinter “second cousin once removed” any measurement (distance, weight) excluding time the defintion of irony White Sauce Brown SauceDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1130861944327636512005-11-01T16:13:00.000Z2005-11-01T16:21:00.886ZIn other news it's the Londonist party on Thursday. I will be there in my best shoes signing autographs and such. And when I say "signing autographs" I really mean "serving drinks". And when I say "best shoes" I really mean just "shoes".Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1130334243697537002005-10-26T14:43:00.000+01:002005-10-26T14:44:03.703+01:00Flexi-things I can do: Bend and lay my hands on the ground Do a back arch on my toes Stand on my head for, like, ages. Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1130253700747874422005-10-25T16:21:00.000+01:002005-10-26T14:44:26.470+01:00Leap Run up Jump If you’re not sure where you want to land, lean forward Prepare to make contact Let the ground take your weight Relax It will hurt Make the flats of your feet sting Dirty your hands in the mud Bruise your knee But you only have to do it once Try not to think Focus Pick your spot and hold your gaze Now run Pump your arms Pump your legs Pump Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1129649155677966162005-10-18T16:15:00.000+01:002005-10-18T16:25:55.686+01:00Here are some leftover photos from my Banksy review(this - which is obvioulsy not a Banksy - I found by chance at Portobello Road Markets an hour later)p.s. The Londonist drink was good fun. They’re all extremely clever and nice. Lot’s of Americans too. Who’d a thought?p.p.s. The weekend with my brother felt a lot like hard work. I have too little patience to be a very good entertainment manager,Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1129217533411679162005-10-13T16:24:00.000+01:002005-10-13T17:04:47.443+01:0020 Fast Ones• We now have a washing machine that washes. Never before has white wear make me teary.• I got a lovely email today from Breanna over at the Austinist – welcoming me to the –ist family. Feel the love.• Speaking of – I’m having a drink with the Londonista tonight. Never really met any real bloggers (Lizzie, Christopher, you don’t count). Hope they don’t make fun of my syntax.• SpeakingDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1128960156867363232005-10-10T17:02:00.000+01:002005-10-10T17:05:53.620+01:00The Monday Hangover You will never drink againYou will feel sorry for yourself on the tube ride home. Yes, it is hot and crowded. You should have thought about last night, drinky boy You will go to the supermarket and suffer the crowds to get yourself something healthy for dinner - some type of raw bean and/or tofu curd salad You will not write because we don’t want our first novel Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1128618546296266722005-10-06T18:08:00.000+01:002005-10-06T18:09:06.303+01:00Join the debateDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1128521681391839012005-10-05T15:14:00.000+01:002005-10-05T15:14:41.400+01:00Another Londonist quicky here. I'll have my name attached soon, but until then I'll link.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1128520802876106412005-10-05T14:58:00.000+01:002005-10-05T15:00:02.890+01:00As if the blog Gods were eavesdropping and decide to play a joke…5 October1.54pmHi I thought it be polite and tell you I’m alive… and you? Alba2.06pmI see, you must be dead. This would be a horrible joke if you really are dead... AlbaThe thing is, even though I can see how carefully he’s phrasing himself, I still mangle the messages to mean whatever I want them to.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1128440343168416362005-10-04T16:36:00.000+01:002005-10-04T16:39:03.176+01:00Experiments in XXXX22 August, 10.22amHi,I've moved house. I didn't take the place in Streatham. I moved into a bigger two bedroom house in Bethnal Green instead. My bedroom looks out over a children's playground, which isn't as creepy as it sounds. I can see Tower 42 and the Gherkin. I've watched as the scaffolding changes each day while they clean the glass on the outside of the Gherkin. It mustDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1128349843884969472005-10-03T15:29:00.000+01:002005-10-03T15:32:10.976+01:00The Monday MysteryGuess who’s a new writer for the Londonist (and now has yet another excuse to go out drinking)?Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1128066495769421762005-09-30T08:47:00.000+01:002005-09-30T08:48:15.770+01:00Just gone 8.30am and I’m walking by the Astoria where there’s a queue of hundreds. Thinking it’s a bit early for a pop concert I question a security guard. He sniffs, and cocks his head at the bleach blonde women hugging sleeping bags to their bosoms against the drizzling rain; "Robbie William’s is having a concert tomorrow" he replies in a thick Eastern-European accent, and I thank him and walk Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1127816619199549492005-09-27T11:23:00.000+01:002005-09-27T11:43:40.856+01:00Martin: late twenties, olive skin, owns his own apartmentI invited him over for dinner with my flatmate and her friend. I cooked, laid on wine, floating candles and good conversation. Outcome: We didn’t call each other again. I was put out that he didn’t even text to say thanks for the meal. Kurt: late twenties, works in tellyMet Kurt at a bar but didn’t really fancy him to begin with. He did Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1127489408476906352005-09-23T16:29:00.000+01:002005-09-23T16:30:49.203+01:00Oh Drew, you and your crazy life!• Mentioned in an article on gay blogs in QX magazine (read the PDF). As my address is too long, they simply put Not Enough Drew In The World. The gays can figure it out. • Bought a £12 bottle of wine by mistake. Have never, ever bought a bottle worth more than six quid in my life. It was oaky and delicious, but I was too resentful to enjoy it.• Had a date with Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1127255854335596512005-09-20T23:33:00.000+01:002005-09-20T23:47:49.806+01:00Dear Sir,It is coming up to 12pm and I have had to turn off the radio because “Freedom pass” is possibly the worst show I have ever had the misfortune to listen to. Perhaps it is because I am twenty-six and not one of your “Parky” demographic, but as an avid Radio 4 listener I was shocked to hear such drivel.Not only was it grossly boring, but the derogatory and insulting remarks about single Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1127165930957885392005-09-19T22:29:00.000+01:002005-09-19T22:38:50.956+01:00At the final whistle the book was 30 to fifty with six overs to go, but it went into overtime after a toss and they scraped in with just enough to make the final four laps and get the bonus.You know, sometimes I wish I'd played a bit more sport.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1126823427116700312005-09-15T23:29:00.000+01:002005-09-19T22:23:29.256+01:00If you’re a regular reader you probably fall into one of two camps: sick of me banging on about the book, or bloody sick of me banging on about the book. Unfortunately this here blog is a web diary, a “wiary” if you will - and all that I’ve done to diarize about is um, writing.I’ve had the week off. I’ve grown a beard. I’ve written until I have weird little aches along my back from sitting too Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1126476699083418632005-09-11T22:44:00.000+01:002005-09-12T14:28:28.366+01:00Twenty Six: or How I Learnt to Stop Worrying and Love the Camera.10am. Two yoofs try and steal a bike. Shut up, I'm an artist.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1126261999988651982005-09-09T11:31:00.000+01:002005-09-09T11:34:59.463+01:00I'm twenty-six today. Cor blimey.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1126186962615023702005-09-08T14:42:00.000+01:002005-09-08T14:42:42.623+01:00FAN LETTER FAN LETTER FAN LETTER Making a fan letter is a breeze with these simple steps. You can decorate the paper with drawings and give the fan as a gift. Or use it to cool off on a sultry day. 1. Start with an 8-inch by 10-inch piece of paper.2. Write on it: Dear soandso. Hey you got great calves. You work out or something? 3. Sign it, date it and put it in an envelope. 4. Leave it Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1125855044899290292005-09-04T18:22:00.000+01:002005-09-04T18:39:09.786+01:00An Idiot’s A Drew's Guide to Computer SecurityGreetings from the inner sanctum of my bedroom! After two and a half days I have finally connected the broadband and removed most of the worms and Trojan horse thingumys out of my computer. You see, when I bought this PC second-hand I also inherited a plethora of spyware, viruses and annoying ad pop-ups which lay dormant until I logged online for the Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1125674580599450642005-09-02T16:22:00.000+01:002005-09-02T16:23:00.606+01:00Man… what a week… hate it… bloggers… so busy… blah blah… I’ve honestly been the bus… not stopped… editing, and work… meetings... so I gave up coffee… stomach upsets… just water and green… extra energy, but of course… not much… still nesting… and you… a great weeken… xDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1125416993318813742005-08-30T16:46:00.000+01:002005-08-30T16:49:53.326+01:00Just read this long, loooong article about research on homosexuality. Here are the points I found interesting: While post-birth development may well play a supporting role, the roots of homosexuality, at least in men, appear to be in place by the time a child is born. Homosexuality runs in families - studies show that 8 to 12 percent of brothers of gay men are also gay, compared with the 2 toDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1124810748661086732005-08-23T16:25:00.000+01:002005-08-23T16:28:27.073+01:00"The novel is a capacious old whore: everyone has a go at her, but she rarely emits so much as a groan for their efforts," said Alex Linklater, deputy editor of Prospect. "The short story, on the other hand, is a nimble goddess: she selects her suitors fastidiously and sings like a dove when they succeed."The British literary bordello is heaving with flabby novels; it's time to give back some Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1124808121441390922005-08-23T15:41:00.000+01:002005-08-23T16:38:37.476+01:00If the “Devil is in the details” and “God is in the details”, who’s looking after the broad generalisations?Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1124282595127673762005-08-17T13:40:00.000+01:002005-08-17T15:15:23.916+01:00People are always impressed when they find that I’m writing a book. ‘Wow,’ they say in awe, ‘that’s impressive’ and I nod, not because I’m marvelling in my own dedication, but because it’s easier than telling them about the badges.Some kids have a drink problem; others are into pot or huffing. My addiction was for Teacher’s Association Science Badges.The process went like this. One selected a Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1124209671479622462005-08-16T17:27:00.000+01:002005-08-16T17:27:51.486+01:00For list people like me, this is like smack.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1123860672071015212005-08-12T16:30:00.000+01:002005-08-12T16:38:42.833+01:00At ten to one my sister rings to say she will be late for our lunch. At 1pm I go and buy some food so I don’t fall over hungry. At 1.30pm I dispose of the wrappers and head back to my office. Inevitably, it’s only when I reach my desk again that my phone beeps.Sorry am here and pretty lost where do I go I stand up and walk back to the lift. On the way down I run over the mantra I invented twenty Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1123838068538320162005-08-12T10:12:00.000+01:002005-08-12T10:23:35.660+01:00"One of the open secrets of literary life is that it's easier to get a book deal for a first novel, or for a work of nonfiction, than it is to get a short story or an article published in a serious magazine. This is because book publishing now revolves less around the book itself than around the marketability of the author--physical appearance; ethnicity, race, religion or sexuality; media or Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1123605599866761922005-08-09T17:38:00.000+01:002005-08-10T09:28:27.033+01:00Why you may not be in love yetYou haven’t met the right guy / girlWhen you did meet them they weren’t attracted to you because you had a spot on your chin You had that chance and you lost it Stupid spotsYou have issuesYou don’t have issuesYour issues aren’t as big an issue as theirsYou need better issuesA glamorous drug problem, a tragic deathThrush just doesn’t cut it You prefer it this wayYou Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1123519095536638962005-08-08T17:37:00.000+01:002005-08-09T09:20:06.340+01:00O, this Brave New World!Happiness in a brown box Ikea be aDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1123085559254684282005-08-03T17:12:00.000+01:002005-08-03T17:13:09.253+01:00There are only two types of friends: those who will help you move, and those who ask how it went the following Sunday at brunch.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1123000240032555392005-08-02T17:28:00.000+01:002005-08-02T17:30:40.040+01:00Inspired by “Tanks for the Memory” (by Dr John C. Lilly and E. J. Gold) here are some Floatation Tank Coffee Table Books just begging to be written:De-conditioning for DummiesThe sinking of Abigail JonesCan you pee in it? And other questions you don’t want to hear as your neighbour borrows the tank for an hour.That’s Epsom salt in your eye…No, really – it looks like a coffinWhere has Mummy gone?ADrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1122912775231738722005-08-01T17:12:00.000+01:002005-08-01T17:12:55.253+01:00I achieved almost all of my goals this weekend, but £40 to lie in some tepid salty water for an hour seemed a bit steep. I searched for “make your own flotation tank” on Google with no luck either. On the other hand I think I might have discovered a gap in the market…Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1122637590490638802005-07-29T12:44:00.000+01:002005-07-29T13:04:23.470+01:00Instead of telling you about what has gone before (which includes terrorists, flat hunting, falling out with friends and, finally, missing out on those Donnie Darko tickets) let’s look to the future. This weekend in fact:Take some time outMy day starts with the sound of Amber blow drying her hair at the foot of my bed. The noise is akin to a small fighter jet landing on the duvet. I am in a Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1122306594044491632005-07-25T16:48:00.000+01:002005-07-25T16:49:54.053+01:00Overheard walking to the Big Gay Out Music Festival:Festival Lady (her bag of festive sweets being robbed by two sugar-hungry young kids): “Don’t take them all, you’re not even gay!”Kids (in unison, mouths full of candy): “Yes, we’re bisexuals!”Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1121963511941232542005-07-21T17:26:00.000+01:002005-07-21T17:31:51.950+01:00Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1121438910943564602005-07-15T15:46:00.000+01:002005-07-15T17:20:12.926+01:00The trouble with boysAs a kind reader pointed out, I gave no resolution to the Donnie Darko DVD Hostage situation. I can now tell you it is now safely back with me, which is sad in a way, as it will always be the movie Alba and I never got around to watching together because we were too busy making out talking and stuff.I don’t get that boy. I really don’t. After much debate amongst my nearest Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1121340973331794312005-07-14T12:36:00.000+01:002005-07-14T15:41:53.356+01:00We stepped out to Soho Square for two minutes of silence, joining the few hundred or so people waiting. As the bell tolled we stood silently and the world stopped with us. A calm, a deep warm fluid calm filled the space between us. A photographer waded through. A woman closed her eyes. Afterwards the applause mimicked the flutter of pigeon wings overhead and automatically I joined in. Is this an Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1121269771680873812005-07-13T16:49:00.000+01:002005-07-13T16:49:31.686+01:00The calls are less frequent now – I’ve only had twenty so far today. Maybe he’s giving up! Maybe his redial finger is all sore and calloused! Maybe he’s calling to apologise! I might not have to schlep down to Police Station like I’d planned after all... Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1121185648267211042005-07-12T17:26:00.000+01:002005-07-12T17:27:28.276+01:00My foray back into the dating scene began and ended on Saturday night when I drunkenly gave out my number. The phone hasn’t stopped ringing since. Literally. I am now a victim of phone harassment. The person in question has called me over a hundred times since Sunday, once at 4am. I have not spoken to him; frankly he does not seem very stable.I turn my phone off for long periods and as soon as I Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1121098543578759342005-07-11T17:14:00.000+01:002005-07-11T17:17:18.823+01:00There is an interesting article in today’s Guardian. I felt sad on Friday, defiant on Saturday, hung over on Sunday (so that doesn’t really count) and this morning I left early and gave the tube carriage a good once over. I’m only beginning to appreciate this city’s synergy - how so many people live together in (relative) harmony. The events of Thursday do nothing to undermine these feelings for Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1120748988977985692005-07-07T16:09:00.000+01:002005-07-07T16:09:48.983+01:00I’m walking home now. I really appreciated all the emails I received today, most from people I’ve never met. We’re a global village and this affects all of us. Take care of yourselves, x DrewDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1120746610636939622005-07-07T15:29:00.000+01:002005-07-07T15:30:10.643+01:00I walk over to Charing Cross Road, to where my friends Sam and Lorna live. In Soho Square, groups of smokers talk casualties outside their offices. There is very little traffic on the roads and fewer people walking around, although being central London it’s still pretty busy. The colour red is missing; the buses which grind through Tottenham Court Road are gone. People are going about their day, Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1120740178496056162005-07-07T13:42:00.000+01:002005-07-07T13:42:58.503+01:00What has happened has begun to sink in, mostly by the small inconveniences (how we are going to get home, breaking plans for tonight, whether we need to get to work tomorrow) but also by the images of dazed and bleeding casualties on TV. Alba called. We had a very stilted conversation where he asked if I was alright and I told him I’d email if anything happened, even though last night I said Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1120736425814513882005-07-07T12:39:00.000+01:002005-07-07T12:40:25.823+01:00We hear reports of a bomb in Leicester Square which is a few minutes down the road, which is quickly refuted. A guy sitting next to me says his mate has heard a guy has been shot by police in Canary Wharf. There seem to be a great many injured and a few reported casualties at several points around London. There are currently no buses or tubes in service and people are not being let out of Zone 1 Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1120732401522184192005-07-07T11:33:00.000+01:002005-07-07T11:36:41.360+01:00Bombs are going off. There is a blitz of texts and emails from friends, and we are being prepared for the worst on TV. I am at work, safe, and so is Amber. My thoughts are with the people effected in these attacks.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1120726572583371812005-07-07T09:54:00.000+01:002005-07-07T10:03:29.673+01:00We meet at a bar.We small talk.I tell him a thing about me, quite personal, which I guess I think might give him a window into my… my what? My heart? My soul? My mind? ‘What am I supposed to do with that?’ he says afterwards, ‘everyone has pain in their life.’All thought of reconciliation disappears. He is the ugliest person in the world to me. He looks like a reptile, his eyes swollen in anger Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1120551237358827822005-07-05T09:11:00.000+01:002005-07-05T09:13:57.366+01:00we have it... what ever you do... don´t call the police!!!Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1120471038848589652005-07-04T10:56:00.000+01:002005-07-04T10:57:18.856+01:00My phone rings. I’m at work and talking to a colleague so I leave it. After it stops there is a pause before it rings again.‘Hullo?’‘We have your Donnie Darko DVD as a hostage.’'Sorry?'‘We have your Donnie Darko DVD as a hostage.’‘What do I have to do to get it back?’‘Await further instruction.’ And with that Alba hangs up.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1120233931934950402005-07-01T17:05:00.000+01:002005-07-01T17:05:31.943+01:00Hi, I liked where I was with you. It was the place before falling in love. I liked it there. I will miss it. DrewDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1120227785346071572005-07-01T15:21:00.000+01:002005-07-01T15:24:55.636+01:00Malebox"That date was unfortunate. My sympathies. I think I've had it, that date... once or twice.Happy Canada Day, from a Canadian reader."M Spider"You do realize you were employing a common European strategy of snobbery? E.g., your yawning to indicate "you're asking too many questions for polite and cultured conversation." My experience has been that Kiwis aren't good at snobbery -- too Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1120142790323582902005-06-30T15:45:00.000+01:002005-06-30T15:46:30.333+01:00I walk from Embankment tube. I buy a pack of fruit chew star bursts and I unpeel them as I hop down the station steps. I see a park I’ve not noticed before and make a mental note to go back there one day. As I put the wrapper paper in a bin, two police men walk past and I wait to see if they are cute. They are not.I walk for what seems like a long time and start to get worried that I won’t find Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1119976414899844042005-06-28T17:32:00.000+01:002005-06-28T17:34:40.130+01:00Support Groups I’d JoinCheck My Email Too Often Anonymous (CMETOA)Caffeine Addicts (Motto: Drink hard, but drink decaf)“I live with my sister too” – A Sibling Dependency Support GroupHirsute & HumidA First Time Novelist's Guide to Stalling FriendsDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1119621438107822992005-06-24T14:44:00.002+01:002005-06-24T15:28:50.140+01:00Between the LinesAmy had to read things twice. If it was something clever in the New Yorker, or one of the Sunday supplements her husband brought back from London, she might give it a spin a third time just to be safe. She was a fast reader - that wasn’t the problem – but Amy had never latched onto words like everyone else, and although she’d been tested, not one of the learning specialists couldDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1119452461641267362005-06-22T15:59:00.000+01:002005-06-22T16:01:01.650+01:00It was hot; balmy hot, the occasional breeze only shifting the hot from there to here.‘We’re under a tree,’ I tell Christopher unhelpfully. There must be a few thousand trees in Hyde Park. ‘Can you see the guys playing football?’‘I think so. Which path do I follow?’‘Veer right.’He makes a frustrated noise.‘It’s your fault for being late,’ I say with no edge to my voice, but his reply is clipped.‘Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1118935606765144912005-06-16T16:26:00.000+01:002005-06-16T16:31:08.923+01:00Believe it or not, I am currently employed as an E-marketing Specialist for a web solutions company in W1.Some search for specialism, and others have it thrust upon them. About two years ago I started work as a copywriter for a fledgling online marketing company. It was a dull job for the most part, but it paid for my tap classes, and you know how much I love to tap.I picked up a few things here Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1118838466571588122005-06-15T13:27:00.000+01:002005-06-15T13:27:46.576+01:00On my way to work I see the young travellers handing out “Learn English” flyers for the schools which squat above the entire length of Oxford Street, lurid signs promising a language and a key to the city. I want to ask these boys and girls where they’re from and what they want to become one day, but I get nervous and decide it will come across as patronizing. Instead, I shake my head when they Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1118766217347271332005-06-14T17:23:00.000+01:002005-06-14T17:24:23.700+01:00I saw two gay Dads in the park at lunch! Gay! Dads! They were both dressed top to toe in black as if to exaggerate the point. I miss Harri.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1118334666992211682005-06-09T17:28:00.000+01:002005-06-10T11:56:17.383+01:00This is my best story ever. Better even than my tale about the Frenchman I made cry because I mistakenly took him for a masochist.Feel free to covet this story as your own. Change the names, countries, invent your own variation - although, as it will become clear, the logistics of gender might be tricky to adapt. This story is too good for me to keep to myself. I want to hear it whispered betweenDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1117815052008804962005-06-03T17:10:00.000+01:002005-06-03T17:10:52.016+01:00I went to a VIP party last night. I am not Very Important. I know someone who knows someone who is mildly Important and that person (the first someone) was ill and couldn’t go; I become Important by proxy. I looked around for the real VIP’s when I arrived, but I think they must all have stayed home doing things importantly. I wonder if anyone else noticed?Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1117729200147173412005-06-02T17:19:00.000+01:002005-06-02T17:50:16.833+01:00I am living with my sister. It’s a small room, but it’s yellow and bright and although it looks onto more council flats I’ve come to enjoy the view and not worry so much when I get naked in front of it. Apart from a double bed there is an exercise machine, my computer desk, suitcases, a wardrobe, shelves and my sister’s boots, which as she explained, will get ruined if I keep chucking them into Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1117644045254448242005-06-01T17:40:00.000+01:002005-06-01T17:40:45.263+01:00Soho Square is the epicentre of my Universe. It’s a tiny slip of a park really, barely enough grass for all the bottoms during the few short weeks of British summer. They sit shoulder to shoulder drinking beer out of plastic cups, or eating fruit; shirts off, legs splayed – throwing orange peel into an empty coffee container while they talk to each other conspiratorially in Portuguese or Spanish Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1116953152069775502005-05-24T17:45:00.000+01:002005-05-24T17:45:52.076+01:00A lot has to be said for spending almost an entire weekend at a friend’s house, wearing little more than your underwear, eating cheese on toast, watching DVD’s and rewinding the good bits during Shaun of the Dead (Shaun's mum comments that the zombies who attacked her were "a bit bitey"). When life is fast, take a few days off to go slow.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1116595990851355542005-05-20T14:32:00.000+01:002005-05-20T14:33:10.856+01:00I have a lead role in a short film. I play a gangster villain. It will showcase not only my talent at holding guns in a threatening manner (perfected using sticks during the summer of ‘87) but also my irritating mockney accent. Look out Hollywood.Oh, and I also have a job now too. Apparently this stuff comes in threes, so all I’m waiting for now is the phone call from a publisher telling me that Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1116260164974468262005-05-16T17:15:00.000+01:002005-05-16T17:16:04.986+01:00Romance is dead. I was stood up. I waited in the Starbucks (!) for half an hour until I gave up the game. By this time I’d finished three mocha choca lattes and was bouncing around the tastefully decorated - but soulless - coffee house walls. Probably just as well he didn’t show. With my dangerously high caffeine levels I might have made him cry. He sent a text (!) two hours later. He’d oversleptDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1115986003079454212005-05-13T13:06:00.000+01:002005-05-13T13:20:09.796+01:00When I heard the expression “Update already! (so and so) is about to give up on you and defect to Christopher’s blog”, I knew I had to take action… I’ve been back in London for two and a half weeks. New Zealand might have begun to seem phantasmic, if not for the trickle of emails from Ma telling me about another pair of underwear or a random sock I forgot to pack. My friends are all still here. Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1115644983644673822005-05-09T13:43:00.000+01:002005-05-09T14:26:12.033+01:00The quest for a work/life balance continues. So far I'm doing all right on the life side *swigs beer*.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1114688310515548682005-04-28T12:37:00.000+01:002005-04-28T12:38:30.516+01:00Proof the Universe is on my sideNo fog in Wellington on the day of my departure.A spare seat next to me on all three (very busy) flights: Wellington – Auckland - L.A. – London. If this isn’t evidence of some omnipotent power then I don’t know what is. I could stretch out my legs and everything.Karen’s smiling mug at LAX.Taking a quick twelve hours to catch up on each other’s life.Karen’s Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1113911190875549062005-04-19T12:46:00.000+01:002005-04-19T12:51:06.356+01:00Awful Hallway Art #5Fitting really. I don't hate this.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1113911118456582632005-04-19T12:45:00.000+01:002005-04-19T12:45:18.456+01:00 Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1113911032559042012005-04-19T12:43:00.000+01:002005-04-19T12:51:50.793+01:00Shame about the poetry...Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1113731953279687892005-04-17T10:55:00.000+01:002005-04-17T11:03:08.616+01:00Letters to the EditorDear New Zealand,Thanks for having me. You were sunny and easy going, and seemed genuinely pleased to see me. For the first time I think I really appreciated you as well.You made it legal for gays to marry and banned fags being smoked in bars. Your hip hop rocks. One day, when climate change has made the rest of the world uninhabitable, I will sail my friends here in a boat Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1113302823582615562005-04-12T11:43:00.000+01:002005-04-12T11:49:44.340+01:00I’m winding down – I can feel it. London is slowly overtaking New Zealand in my mind. I get too excited to sleep sometimes, or too agitated to write. My head is a jumble of ideas and ways I want it to be next time round, the moments I’ll savour, plans, schemes, the feast to follow a famine. When all my thoughts align I can see so clearly where I’m going, and I scramble for a pen and paper, Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1112964883118270942005-04-08T13:51:00.000+01:002005-04-08T13:54:43.116+01:0012.53amHit the Sack!Goodnight. End podcast.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1112963334718018362005-04-08T13:28:00.000+01:002005-04-08T13:31:26.560+01:0012.18amLick your Cat!My nephew has fractured his arm. He had an ear infection and fell over at the park. My sister and I took him to the radiologist yesterday, where we were given lead aprons and had to squash Harri at several uncomfortable angles to get the x-rays. It was horrible. Children should be swathed in foam and bandages until they’re at least sixteen, I've decided.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1112960452934575502005-04-08T12:33:00.000+01:002005-04-08T12:40:52.936+01:0011.33pmResist! Resist!My trouble with Blogger was remedied when I cleared my cookies btw.I have to join the workforce when I get back to London. I recieved my first rejection email yesterday. I forgot how demeaning it is to get rejected for a job you're overqualified for and really didn't want in the first place.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1112958721850754562005-04-08T12:10:00.000+01:002005-04-08T12:12:01.850+01:0010.55pmConfuse Yourself!I’m currently penning a scene where a woman describes growing up in an adopted family. The writing’s not exactly flowing tonight, probably not helped by frequent live podcasting.Did I mention I leave Wellington in twelve days? My six months here is nearly up. I’ll be heading to London via Los Angeles, where I’ll be spending five sunny days with Karen, driving up to San Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1112956670613417692005-04-08T11:36:00.000+01:002005-04-08T11:41:18.856+01:0010.30pmRetype your Password!I can imagine there are going to be quite a few angry words exchanged between the cardinals after the ceremony - along the lines of “You wore the red robes? I told you I was wearing the red robes! No, you definitely said you were going to wear the blue. Why would I wear the blue? Blue makes me look washed out on camera!” Apparently the robes are crimson — the colour Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1112953427587762442005-04-08T10:39:00.000+01:002005-04-08T10:43:47.586+01:009.38pmHave Faith!Oh Mother, they’re burying the pope. I completely forgot about it. Must. Not. Make. Fun. Of. Funeral. Seems to be a lot of singing. And processions. Did you know my Ma went to catholic schools as a girl? Run by Nuns, it was. Those rice crackers they’re giving out look good. Think I might fix a snack.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1112952125428739872005-04-08T10:21:00.000+01:002005-04-08T10:22:05.430+01:009.19pmDon’t be late!Is this a podcast? I just want to know. Am I podcasting?I’m going to say I am. If anyone asks.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1112950983123185062005-04-08T10:02:00.000+01:002005-04-08T10:03:03.123+01:008.41pmPostpone Judgment! So now Blogger tells me “the document contains no data”. Oh yeah, Blogger? You come here with all your “free” this and “easy to use” that and expect me to sit by while you malfunction? Huh? You think you’re so big, don’t you? Don’t you?Oh hang on, it’s working again. Thanks Blogger! Love you!Agh, it did it again! Bastards!Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1112950056821192942005-04-08T09:45:00.000+01:002005-04-08T09:47:36.823+01:008.40pmLive the Wonder! Experience the taste!If you’re in the UK you’re probably just getting to work. If you’re in the U.S. you’ll be asleep. Here in New Zealand in THE FUTURE (*makes ghost noises*) it’s Friday night and I’ve got a hot date with a Word Document.I thought it would be desperate interesting if I shared my night with you – the coffee highs and lows – in real time. So far I've eaten aDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1112255711453743402005-03-31T08:55:00.000+01:002005-03-31T13:16:12.840+01:00Awful Hallway Art #4If it's hanging in the communal hallway, it's fair game...Wellington’s Riviera(Acrylic on Canvas)What’s this? Sweeping perspective? (A horizon!). The blending of paints to attain a gradient of colour? Darks and lights to distinguish distance?The technique she improves, n’est pas?I have been pejorative about Johni’s back log, but it seems his practice has paid...Oh dear.Johni, Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1111918929977441832005-03-27T11:19:00.000+01:002005-03-27T11:22:09.976+01:00I’ve felt ill all day due to some berry brandy dish from the dinner party last night. I never want to see any type of fruit in any type of liquor ever again. Maybe all my clean, healthy New Zealand has taken away my London edge? In the day I could go out on a Thursday night and roll in Tuesday morning with Swedish twins (Eric and Sven), a necklace of hickies and double vision (discovering half anDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1111749787629272972005-03-25T11:19:00.000Z2005-03-25T11:29:09.403ZOf course, if I never finish this bloody book you'll know why. So many tiny, tiny superheroes and they're all the colours of the world!Happy Easter...Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1111664831646348842005-03-24T11:45:00.000Z2005-03-24T11:47:11.646Z"It's like trying to compose a new melody in your head while standing in the middle of a full-throated choral group. And so when I'm immersed in writing a book, I try to keep these worlds separate, even if it feels like I'm betraying the blog somewhat with my silence."Wow. What he said.Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1111659497364553462005-03-24T10:17:00.000Z2005-03-24T10:18:17.366ZRemember when I used to do, you know, stuff and then write about it? Man, those were the days. Sometimes I’d go to an “art gallery” or have “dinner with friends”. No lies. So. Today. Does showering count as an excursion?Drewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1111575822526885222005-03-23T11:03:00.000Z2005-03-23T11:07:00.110ZFlexDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1111575724785057282005-03-23T11:02:00.001Z2005-03-23T11:08:03.800ZmisinformedDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831522.post-1111575764567495762005-03-23T11:02:00.000Z2005-03-23T11:07:35.356ZThe WolfDrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06178081965344365066noreply@blogger.com