Happy Birthday to Adrian Mole who if Sue Townsend isn’t going to kill off any time soon, would be 45 today. And of course it happens to be the same day as the author herself so birthday greetings to ST. Here’s hoping to another Mole book though with his many neuroses, I’m not sure a happy ending is possible…

In a not-entirely unrelated rant, I was very disappointed with April Fools Day yesterday – wikipedia’s front page was spectacularly lame, Memory Alpha was bad, Wookieepedia was worse whilst Memory Beta didn’t even bother. Wikia sites normally have the best collaborations to mark April 1st but it was like the office interns were put in charge. I’ll give to the Wikipedia appeal if their efforts next year far surpass yesterday’s bag o’ crap.

As promised, one lowdown from Saturday. The day began innocuously enough, perhaps better than expected as normally nerves act as a stimulant preventing sleep but I managed to get in seven hours before my bowels forced me to do the ten metre dash in the morning before I rose from my bed. I chucked my final load of laundry into the machine before sorting out articles to take to the pub and it definitely ruled out public transport. Between my laptop, a bag o’ treats and the two boxes of decorations, it would have been an extremely difficult to cart it all down to Vauxhall so it had to be a car journey. Of course, this wasn’t made any easier by the severe lack of petrol in London thanks to the fuel hauliers…

Anyway, once again there was a lack of listening issue at home – I told the Doctor that I wanted to be at the Griffin for 3 to begin to set up. The Doctor claims I said that I wanted to leave the house at 3. I swear that’s the reason why he drove like a lunatic on the south circular to the pub, accelerating like a mad man and breaking just as fast. It was like being on a Waltzer for an hour and I really wanted to barf by the end of the trip. As he was doing me a favour, I kept my mouth shut.

We got to the pub closer to four and began to set up – I had bought too many decorations as there wasn’t enough room for all the banners and pennants but there was plenty of room for the other decorations like the flags and the spiral so they went up. Overall it took two hours for us to transform the room into something resembling my plans and vision and once we did it looked rather good. I promise to post something to the next blog entry; right now the pictures are stored on my phone. The Mexican theme worked and I laboured tirelessly on the Spewnicorn Pinata – the end result is ghastly but all in good fun.

Perhaps it was naïve of me to actually think people would arrive precisely when I’d asked them to but to me, a promise is a promise though in complete fairness, I hadn’t counted on the Victoria Line being down. I blame Boris and hope to see the overfed turd kicked out in a month’s time. But slowly and surely people arrived over the course of the evening. I’d say about 40 of the 65 or so accepted attendees put in an appearance which was great and the balance of people seemed to work.

So in praise of the Griffin, a good chunk of the most excellent food did disappear. I only wish that I’d actually packed some Tupperware to take some of the food home as I’m loathe to wasting it all. The cocktails were superbly prepared and I think I guzzled about nine of them, perhaps more…my recollections are somewhat blurry. And the staff were rotated between the main bar and upstairs quite nicely which allowed for everyone to join in. I was very pleased and contented with how they accommodated my control freakery and the efforts they went to in order to ensure that I and my guests had a good time.

Finally time was called on the event around 12 and rather than stay on and tear up Soho or Vauxhall, we decided to go home though I insisted on a less rigorous car journey back to Stratford, preferably along the river (as the road surface would be smoother). Got in, checked a few messages and then slept for 11 hours! Great times and as I remarked to H this morning, perfect end to the best month ever.

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