72. Serious Rain

I was just sitting here, looking out of the window, trying to think of today's blog subject, when it began to rain serious rain. And I smiled. Not because I am the devil incarnate (though my brothers beg to differ) and I enjoy the thought of all those commuters getting drenched on their way home, but because serious rain is so much better than drizzle, or worse, the threat of drizzle.

I like climatic absolutes, I've decided. When hot the sky must be azure and cloudless, when cold it must be azure and cloudless unless its foggy, when wet it must be soaking, when dry it should not threaten. So no clouds. I clearly need to emigrate. Sorry Mum.

I was going to go running in the drizzle, but I am dissuaded by the serious rain. Wimp. If it lets up a bit I will go and try out my new 90s pop-classics playlist. If it doesn't (and it seems intent for now) I will do the only thing the weather demands - curl up on the sofa with a book.

71. An Early Start

Yesterday morning, I got myself up to the gym for 8.45 and came home an hour later feeling very sorry for myself. The rest of the day was a monstrous struggle. So I decided that today would be better.

And today is already better because it started a little earlier than usual, and I am reminded that I prefer the promise of the early morning to the hard scrabble of the end of the day. I've been bouncing around, making bacon bagels, tidying up, thinking about what to wear rather than just pulling on whatever's nearest, sitting down at my desk, water and apple to hand, thinking about the day's work and how best to do it. Insufferable, isn't it?

But I'm happy! I've got a sensible serious job of work to do today, and later I'm going out to supper and will be fed the best curry in London, so I have a reason to work hard. Carrot and stick, you see. I'm not running today because I've been going too far, too fast so I'll have a day off and lumber slowly round the park in the rain tomorrow. I feel well and bushy-tailed because I almost didn't drink last night and I've slept well, and had an early start and my day is full of promise...

It's Friday!

I'm going to go, before everybody's sick.

70. Completing a Difficult Task

A script report completed, an extra mile run, a desk clear of filing and receipts - what a lovely feeling. Can't imagine how glorious it must be to achieve something genuinely difficult, like curing a disease, or putting Herself off painting the naffing kitchen this weekend.

The completion of a difficult task and its attendant euphoria is all about exams, for me. All those years of end of year exams at my nightmarishly academic school, followed later by serious national exams and then university finals left a long shadow on my psyche. The BF looks at me blankly when I talk about our school being an academic hothouse, but she's cleverer than a wily fox in full chicken costume so I pay no attention.

I don't have to take exams any more, but every now and again a stressful, challenging, deadlined task comes up that causes me to have to lock myself away with bananas and other brain foods and snap grumpily at Herself when she interrupts me. But then the task is completed and I feel like dancing in the moonlight. Today, in case you hadn't already guessed, is one of those days. I will not be doing any moonlit dancing, but I might find my supper more delicous this evening, and that glass of wine more refreshing. And that's enough to make it all worthwhile. That, and my two degrees.

69. Hendricks Gin

When the sun finally crosses the yard-arm, and particularly in the summer months, a writer's thoughts often turn to the Vodka/Gin axis. Vodka is clean, pure, the better-off alcoholic's choice. Gin, as we all know from bitter experience, isn't called Mother's Ruin for nowt. Anyway...

A few years ago a friend brought a bottle of Hendricks gin to an 'all-white' drinks party I was giving, and when we'd all stopped feeling very ill indeed from drastic over-consumption of champagne (I know, boo hoo) I gave it a go. And then it became very difficult to imagine drinking any other brand. It's minty, you see, junipery, somehow more fragrant and herbal than other gins - certainly than that Smirnoff rubbish. It comes in a ye olde bottlee so its aesthetic appeal is high (v. important to the irretrievably shallow) but after that it's just plain DELICIOUS. The BF bought Herself another bottle for her birthday (they conspire over how difficult I am and just how much help they both need to get through the torment) and we have been enjoying its cool libation these past few days. There are some who would drink a Hendricks and tonic with cucumber instead of lemon - they are free to do so, this is a free country. I prefer lemon and I ain't shiftin'.

The one drawback of Hendricks is its cost. Supermarket gin (made of boiled-down car sweets and lighter fluid) is certainly cheaper, but you won't feel all elegant and glamorous while you're drinking it, will you? No.

Tanqueray is very good - a high-quality pub or bar option. Bombay Sapphire will do at a push. But if you really want to enjoy yourself (and you should! you should!) make it Hendricks every time.

PS - For the avoidance of doubt the 'all-white' part of the party referred to drinks. Not (as many thought) to dress code, and certainly not to anything more favourable in Alabama.

68. KCRW - Morning Becomes Eclectic

KCRW is the radio station for Santa Monica College (or somesuch) and Morning Becomes Eclectic is its breakfast show. The DJ, Jason Bentley, who's a bit smooth for my liking but seems to know his stuff, spends 2 or 3 hours every weekday morning playing the kind of music BBC 6 Music can only dream about. The best part of it is that you never know what you're going to get next - and most of the time the bands are obscure or new or long dead - which leads to a genuinely interesting and instructive listening experience.

Part of its joy comes from its (relative) exoticism. Adverts for LA based gigs and for courses at the college interrupt the music at fairly regular (though never irritatingly frequent) intervals, which makes a difference from adverts for DFS sofas or webuyanycar.com (the creator of which will die by my hand if I ever discover his or her identity).

I love MBE for two main reasons, however: the first is that it introduces me to music I would never normally come across, which helps with my laughably exiguous cool rating. The second is that it seems to bring sunshine with it. This is, presumably, as a result of my mind linking Santa Monica with sunshine, but on all those rainy dark cold winter mornings the tiny rays of warmth that MBE brought into the room were welcome indeed.

It's available on the interweb. Have a listen. Thanks to Mr Farringer for the tip.

67. Jason Bateman

From 1985 to at least 1992, Jason Bateman was Where It Was At for me, in boy terms. Then I grew up (a bit), he sort of disappeared, and he became but a happy memory. (Which, as we all know, is never true of real lovers, only of imaginary ones.)

Then he reappeared. Was it Starsky & Hutch? Was it Arrested Development? Who knows, and who cares. He was back, and best of all, he was exactly the same. Hurrah! He hadn't got all fat and drug-knarly like some, (RIP Corey). He wasn't suddenly old and there to remind me of my own advanced age (he's only 5 years older than I am). He was still funny, still sunny and lovely and all-round scrummy. So now I have a good reason to watch all sorts of films I wouldn't normally: The Kingdom (excellent performance, funny and then Proper Acting), Mr Magorium's Wonder Emporium (can make even an accountant appealing), I could go on. To watch Arrested Development is to immerse oneself in the joy of Bateman (even if I am occasionally distracted by the actual GENIUS of Will Arnett).

He's a runner, too. Did I mention that? And that's his own very sweet little baby in the picture.

It's difficult to explain the exact nature of my feelings for JB - he occupies a unique place in my heart. Why define something pure? Just let it be. I'm glad he's back.

66. YouTube

Well, it's more a love/hate thing, if I'm honest. I love it because it can fulfill almost every one of my most esoteric telleovisual requirements. I hate it because suddenly several hours have passed and no work has been done. If I had any will-power at all this would be less of a problem, but I don't.

I cannot watch nerd-o-vision. There is nothing more terrifying than the world's lonely losers presenting their 'talents' to the world live from their bedrooms via a Radio Shack web cam. No. I watch telleovision series. And movies. And music videos. All uploaded for me by the world's lonely losers who have yet to unleash their own talents and are still happy celebrating the talent of others. These are my people.

If I had any technical nous at all I would learn how to download stuff off the interweb, but that seems churlish when my people have gone to so much trouble. So today I watched some of that excellent series Blackpool, some Forsyte Saga (the recent one, not the Kenneth More version), Alan Rickman talking about some play or other and a couple of Bronski Beat videos.

Displacement activity, moi?

Tomorrow I must (MUST) work, so no more YouTube... for a few days, anyway.