It’s a beautiful, beautiful Saturday here in Richmond. I’m sitting at my computer with sunlight filtering into my lounge and the room is filled with the scent of the lilac trees outside my window. It’s not too hot, it’s not too cool, I’ve just had a huge mug of hot chocolate and I’m so bloody happy I could pop!
Total Film’s latest deadline was surprisingly easy – only two late nights, if you can call 7.30pm and 8pm late – and I’ve never come off a deadline feeling so invigorated. I even went to the pub last night with my Deputy Editor and had a game of pool while we had a really nice chat; shame my pool-playing was so bad, though. I told him that next time we should play chess because I’m much better at that.
With the odd exception,* even my workload this week has been fun, down to the fact that Total Film has some cracking, and hilarious, features in the next issue. One of them, which I can’t mention here in case our competitors are reading this (though I doubt they’d bother), made me laugh so much when I first heard about it that I actually cried, right in the middle of a magazine production meeting. It’s genius, though. Genius. There are some twisted minds on this magazine and I love ’em all.
* The exception in question being two pages in our DVD section which kept coming back to me with so many corrections, alterations and niggles that in the end I wrote on the front of the proof, “Please don’t give this back to me again, it’s like I’m stuck in fecking Groundhog Day or something!”
The best thing to happen this week was the discovery that my favourite musical guru, Neil Finn, is moving from New Zealand to London for half the year because his son has just been accepted into a swanky school in Wales. His other son already lives here and plays in a great little band called Betchadupa; I really like their music and have all their albums. However, I can’t quite summon up the courage to go and see them live because I’m far too old – I can see myself standing in a corner at the venue going, “Well, it’s a good tune, but why does it have to be so loud?”
Anyway, the reason I’m blissed-out about Neil moving here isn’t because I’m going to stalk him or do anything untoward (god forbid), but because it means there’s a good chance he’ll play more gigs in the UK. And that’s the best news EVER!
Seeing Neil Finn live is right up there in my top three favourite things to do in the world. (I’d give you the other two, but one’s a bit rude and the other really isn’t any of your business… *grins*)
I got the train home from work the other night and was almost bowled over by a parade of people returning from Ladies’ Day at Ascot. The platform was a colourful sea of fancy hats and pretty dresses, men in grey top hats and waistcoats, with most of the women teetering unsteadily on their heels after one too many glasses of champers. As I climbed onto my train I heard one woman yelling to her friend, “Maggie’s had a lovely day, even though she don’t remember none of it!” And then the woman known as Maggie hiccupped for my entire journey. Ah, the upper classes. So frightfully posh, eh what?
By the way, I have to end this entry on a sad note: Aaron Spelling died this morning. He gave the world Dynasty, Starsky And Hutch and Sunset Beach – among other fabulous creations – and I honestly think if I hadn’t grown up watching his shows, my life today would be very different.
“He’s probably busy explaining that to St Peter right now,” Biddy texted me earlier.
I’m still not sure if she meant to write “explaining” or “apologising”.