Another Lost Weekend

The new timetable was a great idea. It was really beginning to work and was shaping my days into something constructive so that I was actually achieving results. A most productive week was drawing to a close, and targets were being met. I was feeling pleased with myself. I'd held the meeting with the film producer who is anxious to get my film about the non-transvestite made, I'd done my shopping and made my arrangements for all other domestic chores to be ticked off – tick, tick, tick. All good.

And then, on Friday afternoon, a chance encounter with someone I'd only met twice before, caused a sudden and dramatic nuclear fusion that the time since then has been spent in an ever-spiralling whirlwind of drinking and debauchery, such that I have now lost the plot completely and the timetable lies in tattered shreds on the stained floor of despair. Oh dear. Not good.

Mind you, I have engaged in some worthwhile pursuits too. I went to the cinema on Friday evening to see the much lauded 'Bright Star', Jane Campion's latest film offering about the love affair between poet John Keats and Fanny Brawne. It had been described by critics as 'exquisite', and in some ways, it was. Well, the photography was exquisite, but little else. The script was diabolical and unbelievable; the acting not much better. A big disappointment.

On Saturday I went to a fabulous private art viewing and bought a beautiful piece of artwork. I just wish I could remember what it is called – I'll have to ring the artist and ask him, and also how he did it (it's some kind of digitized print). If the artist ever makes it big, it might be worth a fortune in the future, and then I won't need a pension!

Sunday night (after a relaxing and healthy walk around the University Lake) saw us at the Malt Cross for a musical extravaganza – a tribute to the great Tom Waits. There was some fabulous singing and playing from people like Mink (slightly reduced in numbers, but Ian Oxlade's voice seems to have matured into something even more extraordinary and totally spell-binding). Also reduced in numbers was the group Shakes, who are a regular turn at Shaw's Restaurant – keyboard player David surprised us all with his completely authentic rendition of a couple of Waits numbers. Terrific stuff – although the show was nearly stolen by Ali Hazeldene's unbelievably charismatic singing; more mesmerising even than Odysseus's Sirens. See picture below.

Unfortunately, all of these excellent pursuits were accompanied by the consumption of very large quantities of alcohol. In fact, more alcohol in one weekend than any sane person should consume. Which is why we are not sane, perhaps. And who is "we", you might ask? The chance encounter I had on Friday afternoon with someone I hardly knew, turned into a full-on bonding for the next three days. We've hardly been out of each other's company for all of that time, which is quite a strange thing. We even watched a film on TV last night – we'd both seen it before and both remembered enjoying it. What a shock – it was rubbish. Bad script, bad acting, terribly mis-cast all round – what a shambles. The film? It was 'Little Voice'. To be avoided at all costs.

Hopefully, better news tomorrow.