Friday, March 10, 2006

brits and twigs (hhmm...)

march 10th

Current level of conviction in own genius (out of 10): 6
Hours of creative activity achieved in last 24 hours: a bit
Hair day: if I spike it up at the front it is a foot and a half long. think it needs cutting.

Of course, in my last blog I completely forgot to mention my appearance at the BRIT Awards (such is my celeb-wheeling whirlwind of a life, all these things blend into one after a while...), in blagging a ticket from my old chums at the BRIT School and standing with da kidz in the pit (alas, not merrily guzzling champagne at one of the tables behind us, swearing blind I'd always been the biggest Prince fan to his royal smallness). I've been twice before, and it was a little underwhelming: not quite the swift glitzy musicfest you see on tv, what with the interminable gaps inbetween acts for set changes, and the sound firing blanks over your head. Lowlights were the deathly dull Jack Johnson and James Blunt, whose girlish yelpings could give a Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier* a run for its money. Ugh. More fun were Gorillaz' stageful of grooving kids, the funk-whippet* Prince (a bit indulgent, but hell, he played Purple Rain) and - I can't believe I'm saying this - Paul Weller, who although looking coked-up to the ends of his daftly-flicked sideburns, played proper songs on proper instruments. Give me a down 'n' dirty weed-seeped live drum 'n' bass night in the middle of the week any day. See www.nrftw.com for details!

* Sorry, Crufts is all over the tv this week....

Life is settling down in Bethnal Green, and I am now endeavouring to reflect my 'hood's moniker by being as environmentally-friendly as I can. I am finally doing all those small things espoused by the Guardo et al: turning things off at the mains and the thermostat down and the taps off when brushing my teeth, frenziedly composting everything to pour on our slightly petrified herb garden, and continuing my obsession with refusing plastic bags in favour of carrying everything, spilling bits on the way, in my arms. We are hopping with anticipation at the impending arrival of our first organic veg and fruit box so are clearly true green-tinted boho-eco-warriors now. But there is so much more I can do! Time Out, to which I now subscribe for it is my guide in all things, is full of suggestion this week, and I am next going to investigate being a green woman and source Ecover nail varnish and washable make-up remover pads and tampons made out of hay and things. Oh yes.

PS This all-new green Kerry doesn't extend to welcoming wildlife into our home, though... Came home yesterday to find a little black mouse (or mini-Satan, if you will) legging it out of my bedroom. I, proving myself to be utter wimpoid, screamed like a maiden aunt and Andy found me quivering on the dining room table 15 minutes later. We have now stuffed up the hole under the boiler and it is probably suffocating amongst our Fresh 'n' Wild plastic bags as we squeak. I mean speak.

No comments: