THE 100 CLUB AND THE OSBOURNES

The other day, I visited Matthew in the afternoon because he had this new piece of furniture, and I wanted to see it, because I'm a girl and that's what girls do. Sorry, I know, I'm a feminist, but it was basically a new toy, and I wanted to see it.

After that, we went to the 100 Club to see Matthew's dad's band. It was fantastic! It's (the band is) called The Big Swing, and the club has swing dancing every Tuesday, I think (I'm going to take Michael there when he comes to visit, because he would *love* it).

I'm considering taking dance classes again, because I did enjoy it when I took them back in San Francisco, but I think I left my dance shoes in a box that is at a friend's house, and it would take loads of money to ship it over here. But the dance classes are only £4, and I might be able to swing that.

When I say things were fantastic, I mean both the club and the band. The club has a fabulous history, and has this family tree sort of thing on one of the walls that Matthew showed me, full of people who had played there, and there are photos of all of the bands on the walls, which included everyone from Siouxie and the Banshees to the Rolling Stones to, of course, the Sex Pistols. No Psychic TV, though, which is just plain wrong.

The band was really good. I mean, they were pretty much dead-on, and I got this sincere kick out of seeing this oldish guy playing the drums (the drum solos were a thing of wonder) with his mouth open and a slightly dazed look on his face the whole time. The band members looked to be from 30-ish to maybe 70-ish. Really tight. High energy. "Interesting" sax solo at one point, but I won't go into that. I was surprised at how good the band was, which is probably bad of me.

Matthew's dad plays the bari sax, and I won't pretend that I could pick him out of the band, but that itself indicates that he has to be at least somewhat good. I was a little surprised when Matthew asked me if I wanted to go see the band--meeting one of his parents was a sort of...well, it's not like you can just meet someone's dad without having some kind of reaction to the idea of it, not to mention the act. At any rate, his dad seems really nice, although the music was so loud that it's not like we could chat or anything. He had a camera, and wanted us to take some photos of the band, which was fun. He took a photo of Matthew and I first, which was a very dad thing to do, but was also one of those things that I couldn't quite figure out how to react to--you know, this is the first photo that's ever been taken of the two of us, other than this one I got in this photo booth, and it was being taken by his dad, and I just had to quit thinking about it after a few seconds, because it was quite obvious that I should just not think about it.

Anyway. The thing that was great about trying to take photos of the band is that there were people swing dancing everywhere, and it was hilarious watching people carrying beverages try to make it across the club. You can imagine what it was like trying to maneuver through this writhing crowd with a camera. People were very nice, and I only really got elbowed once. (That's one of the things I love about swing dancing--in my experience, everyone is really nice, and they all make sure that nobody feels like a wallflower that doesn't get asked to dance.)

Matthew has played at this club in the past. I teased him about the fact that now he was going to see his *dad* play at a club that he probably couldn't get a gig at right now. Is that mean? I didn't mean it that way. It's not like I could get a gig there either. But it seemed funny to me at the time.

Eventually I left, and I caught the tube, but missed the last train (I have to take one of each to get home) so I had to hail a cab for the last leg of the trip, which ended up costing £20, which means that I absolutely positively have to make sure that I never ever ever miss the last train again. This, and the fact that I have this mortal fear of hailing cabs (I don't know why, I just do; the very thought terrifies me) should ensure that I am careful in the future.

Incidentally, there is this really weird thing that I've been doing since I started 'dating' (I hate that word, but what else do you call it?) Matthew. When we hang up the phone, or when it's time for me to leave this house, I have this intense reluctance. I don't understand it, and I've tried to figure out what my problem is, but it's like...I don't know, I have this feeling like I somehow haven't done enough of something. I don't know what this thing is, but whatever it is, I just feel like I should have done it, and like I shouldn't leave without doing whatever this thing is. It's driving me crazy.

It's hard to mention things like that without making them sound worse than they are. That didn't in any way ruin the evening. I had a fantastic day, and a fantastic time, and it wasn't diminished in any way by this weird leaving thing that I've been doing. I just wish I could figure it out.

At any rate, I'd only intended to go over to Matthew's house to look at this piece of furniture, but it turned into an entire afternoon and evening, and it was such a lovely, lovely day.

On to the Osbournes.

As you may be aware, Matthew works for MTV, and so he got a copy of the first five episodes of The Osbournes, which doesn't start over here until May 21. He decided to have a Osbournes party, and invited over a bunch of our mutual friends. Of course, having these videos early made him even more of the Coolest Kid on the Block than he just is naturally.

Not that I'm biased or anything.

Anyway. The day of the party arrived, and I came over early to see if I could be useful. Of course he already had everything in order, but was nice and pretended that I was being helpful, because he is sweet. It was a really pleasant afternoon--I was puttering around in the kitchen, and he started playing Tom Waits, who he knows I really like. Then he put in a live CD of Elvis Costello, which was absolutely fantastic, and it has Alison on it, and, well, you can imagine that it was just really nice and I was just really happy. I think he actually played two different live EC CDs, and sometime when he's not looking, I'm going to peruse his collection and see if I can figure out which ones they are, and someday I'll get my own copies. (Maybe a present to myself when I get a proper job.)

Eventually people started showing up, and Matthew asked me if I would have some wine, since he thought it would be much more fun with wine, and he looked so cute when he asked, that I decided to. I was a little worried, because I guess lately I've felt like I keep screwing everything up, and if you're trying really hard not to screw everything up, it's probably a good idea to remain in full possession of your faculties at all times.

Anyway, we drank wine and ate bread and cheese and chocolate biscuits and strawberries, and had a *fabulous* time. Matthew is a great host. The program is the best thing I think MTV has ever done, and we spent the whole evening laughing.

Er, I was very drunk. I mean, I don't think I was terribly sloppy, but that's because I was making a supreme effort to not be sloppy. It took a *lot* of concentration. I remember spending an eternity staring at my friend Mark's face just thinking about not looking drunken. I have no idea what he said. I have no idea whether or not I responded appropriately.

Matthew, as I mentioned, is a great host. He got up and started playing music for us after a while, which was mostly things like Pat Boone singing heavy metal.

After everyone left, of course, I no longer felt the need to act sober, and that's when I realized just how far gone I was. I spilled half a glass of water on Matthew. I have many reasons to be embarrassed today.

It was such a good evening. I just feel like I've had two and a half of the best days ever.

Today, of course, I'm suffering the after-effects of only sleeping for three hours, and then there's a bit of weirdness going on because it's May Day. There have been protests around the city. We went to one, which was not bad, but then this woman who was giving the speech said, "Victory to the Intifada!" and I had to leave. It really freaked me out.

Lovely. Yet another time Matthew's seen me freaked out. Feh!

Mostly, I'm just feeling a little bit fragile or something, and I said something bad to Matthew this morning that I shouldn't have said, and yet again I know I've screwed something up. I just wish I could make it through one day without screwing something up.

The protests have, for the most part, been entirely peaceful, and you can tell that the news media is so disappointed that they could all just cry. There are *supposed* to be broken windows and stuff. They were *counting* on it. On this big news day. And everyone's being nice. They keep rushing around and taking close-ups every time someone coughs near a policeman, but then nothing happens. And they look sad.

Anyway, later in the afternoon, we ended up going out to the record shop, and Matthew bought me a new CD, which is quite good. It was such a nice thing to do, and it's such a nice CD.

And now I suppose I should go home soon (I'm typing this on his computer) and yet again I'm sitting here thinking, "What is it that's bothering me? What is it that I feel like I should have done?" I don't know.

If you have any clue at all, please let me in on it.

Well, that's enough of an update for now.