Sunday, October 28, 2007

Champagne Talking

I have just realised via my friend who after 13 years away from real and changing life as we know it.......I have just realised that I have come to accept so much of the unacceptable. The copious pressure of life. Ordinary life. Life that shouldn't be a part of the 21st century. Backward, broken life. Why have we become so accepting of things that don't work properly? Things or situations that are genuinely uncomfortable? Nothing works in London. Everything is a chore. We have embraced hardship. We have embraced difficulty and awkwardness and have learned to live with it. We have learned to be governed by machines. Phones - texts - e mails - never out of touch. Always contactable but never entirely neccessary. Perhaps these are the assorted ramblings of a mad woman but I am currently feeling awfully out of sorts with everyday London life. I dare say life in the 'cuntry' is any different....Where to go? Where indeed? When on earth was there ever a traffic jam at 11.30pm at night and why? For god's sake. What am I doing in Victoria? I am on the Hades bus - the trip to nowhere very slowly indeed.

Two lumpy spinster sisters with matching soft rosy cheeks have just sat down one beside and one opposite. They are eyeing my scribble with disdain. I have two bags - one crammed full of work papers and personal post that I haven't had a chance to open over the last few weeks.
Try explaining that to the boring bank people that waste world time by calling you up to remind you that you have missed a payment.The other bag is bright mustard yellow and has a pair of high heeled boots in it. No one understands. Doubtless I will be able to decipher this myself in the morning as I am scribbling from the back of the bumpiest bus in the world. The two spinster sisters are trying to read what I am writing but it is so quickly and bumpily written it is almost in code. Only my champagne-scrambled brain will be able to work it all out in the morning. Bloody hell.

Sloane Square - is that all? Slow slow slow.

Feet up on opposite seat now - Route79 wouldn't approve but it is the only way I can steady myself. The sisters got off at Beaufort Street. They probably share a mansion flat. No more peeking. No more speculating. Just back to their lonely cells. They both looked so out of time and place. A throwback to goodness knows when. Disappointed not-very-pretty debutantes that no one wanted to marry.


Perhaps I got too used to black cabs from an early age? I could always justify the cost of a black cab. I used to be a nightbus afficionado but graduated to black cabs with ease by the time I was 21. Now I am the scribbly lady - scrabbling scribbling into her notebook on the bus.

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27 Comments:

Blogger Istvanski said...

You should put yourself up for Mayoress. Only a brilliant mind can scribble scrabble amongst the setting of a strange bus ride.

10:57 am  
Blogger dh said...

Nice piece of scribbling that.

2:30 pm  
Blogger Annie said...

Yes, I enjoyed it. More drunken scribblings please.

PS aren't you posh with the black cabs... when I win the lottery, I will get cabs all the time xxx

3:55 pm  
Blogger rockmother said...

Ister - I got so engrossed scribbling I forgot to change buses and ended up getting turfed off at Fulham Broadway!

Dickley - thank you - I just wrote freestyle

Annie - thank you too. I wasn't actually that drunk - but had been to a do with free champagne so had had as much as I could manage! I got cabs as a student but shared between lots of us. Now I get them if I've had a good month or can claim it back! xx

9:49 pm  
Blogger Arabella said...

The way we live can feel so bonkers, can't it?
I remember a period of my life when the only thing that made any sense and felt balanced was the walk to Sunday Evensong service and waiting for the bus back.

3:32 am  
Blogger Arabella said...

And I meant to ask - do you think cavernous pill-box hats will ever make a come-back?

3:17 pm  
Blogger FirstNations said...

that i enjoyed, rocky. i could see it.

6:16 pm  
Blogger rockmother said...

Arabella - how nice to hear from you - I hope all well in Arabellaland. Pill-box hats - yes - definately - as long as they are leopardskin!

6:17 pm  
Blogger rockmother said...

Your Firstness - yay - simultaneous commenting! Thank you thank you - we aim to please here at Rocky Towers. xx Ooh - I keep meaning to mail you - I haven't forgotten - will do so I promise.

6:18 pm  
Blogger Howesy said...

Good stuff RoMo.
Your next mission, should you choose to accept it, is a piece composed on a push-bike under the influence of Toilet Duck.
This message will self distruct in 5 seconds...
























Bang.

6:22 pm  
Blogger rockmother said...

Howesey - oh I do like a challenge!

6:38 pm  
Blogger savannah said...

*sighing* i know that feeling, sugar. been a long time, but you brought it all right back! well done, esp. the big black cab, i miss those!

8:54 pm  
Blogger devolutionary said...

Bloody hell. Takes me back to my last Night Bus experience, some years after the one before (where I was turfed off in Kingston and had to walk to Hampton Hill).

After working out which stop I should have been standing at, I stood. And stood. Turning every few minutes towards Nelson, in the hope that my number was coming up.

After about 45 minutes, I remembered that I had a job now, stepped out into the road and hailed a cab. Which I probably claimed.

Maximum respect for writing on a bus. One of my man-maths reasons for buying a laptop was so I could write on the train - and read it afterwards...

9:41 pm  
Blogger Betty said...

Excellent post. I would nominate it for Post Of The Week, if I could be bothered to go over there any more. Ahem.

Bus journeys are really best undetaken under the influence of alcohol, if possible. It takes the edges off the STRANGE things that tend to happen.

10:01 am  
Blogger JDA said...

hmm, is this a piece of fine Romo rambling or an early morning rant whilst enduring the bus ride? either way I enjoyed it!

Hi ya!!!!!!

12:44 pm  
Blogger Istvanski said...

I think we need more rants and ramblings on the blogosphere. Betty's just done a "fear of growing old" type rant which was good.

More power to the drunken scribes!

2:35 pm  
Anonymous rivergirlie said...

but you sound delightfully nutty! can't wait to see you in rl! x

3:54 pm  
Blogger rockmother said...

Savmarshmama - thank you - I like black cabs too

Devolutionary - hello and welcome to Romoworld. Thank you for popping by. Yes - I got turfed out at Fulham Broadway thinking I was actually going on to Hammersmith. Just about made my connection to get the last bus home. Considered a black cab but stuck with the rubbish bus on this occasion.

It was really hard writing longhand in the bus as it was soo bumpy.

Betty - why thank you! Such compliments.

Jifster - thank you - it was spontaneous late night going home on the back of a bumpy bus thoughts and observations

Ister - I wasn't that drunk thank you! I mean - I could read my writing the next day and didn't have a headache.

Rivergirlie - oh no - delightfully nutty scares me. The lumpy sisters were much more nutty than I could ever be. I can assure you I am extremely boring and not mad at all in real life - Annie and Ister will testify to that. Yes - hope to catch up before Christmas if poss.

5:25 pm  
Blogger Istvanski said...

Rivergirlie - Romo's as mad as a box of frogs. Don't tell her that I told you that.
;-P

7:28 am  
Blogger llewtrah said...

If I request more drunken scribblings, does that give you an excuse to do more drinking? We'll have to do another blogmeet somewhere alcoholic to prime you for the scribblings :)

12:43 pm  
Blogger rockmother said...

Ister - harumph! How did I know you would pipe up ;-)

Llewtrah - oh no - am I to become a weird writing/drinking live experiment?

1:43 pm  
Blogger Robert Swipe said...

"Two lumpy spinster sisters..."

It could well have been her, you know; her sister was over from Ireland for the weekend. Probably been out clubbing or something in short dresses that barely covered their arses and flesh coloured tights that made their legs look like they were wrapped in cling film. Yes, that's probably who it was...

I never had The Spinster down as being Lumpy though...

(Mind you, I never thought Betty would be a deadringer for Kely le Brock either. Or Matthew Kelly, come to that...)

Did you get home safely, btw?

Bobster

2:37 pm  
Blogger rockmother said...

Swipester - yes thank you - tucked up safely in bed by half twelve!

7:34 pm  
Blogger Spinsterella said...

My sister's getting married next year Bob.

And neither of us are lumpy.

They sound just like my two mad disapproving religious spinster aunts who lived together till they died in the late '80s.

9:07 pm  
Anonymous rivergirlie said...

ister is known through the blogosphere for his considered and moderate views on just about anything you care to name. therefore i have no option but to believe him!
(btw - i have the same piccie - the pillbox ladies - i cut it out of the st ages ago - it's what i aspire to daily) x

10:41 pm  
Blogger savannah said...

hammersmith? the mister is staying at some place called the hand & flowers there..high kensington road? yeah, he got stuck in london longer than he'd thought..is that near you? (london geography is very limited for me..i only know a couple of areas)

4:40 pm  
Blogger Jag said...

Excellent! A lot resonated too. I gave up scribbling quickly. I just sit back, put head back and close eyes. It's amazing how much you can commit to memory and still not forget to get off at your stop when meditating like that.

8:54 am  

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