No Love In This Club

Hello my minions!

I apologise for my extended absence; I have been negotiating my way through my very own Fortnightis Horriblis (to borrow liberally from the Queen). No, I exaggerate - it hasn't been that bad; I've just been a little too preoccupied with things to blog.

To bring you up to speed, I have less than 2 weeks left at my company. My last day here is 31 October (Halloween - if I were superstitious I'd be having a field day right now). I don't want to bore you with the details, but this is all a result of the takeover of my company by another radio giant that led to my boss leaving and my position being made redundant (for background info, go here). It's been touch and go for the last couple of weeks as to whether I'd be able to stay, but I finally have a clear perspective on the situation, and I am confident that my decision to leave (it was voluntary redundancy) is the right one. As calm and clear-headed as I am being about all this, it is not without difficulty that I leave behind the fantastic friends I have made this year. I am gutted to be going, and I know next week is going to be a tough one. I don't have anything else lined up just yet, but I went on a recruitment agency blitz last week and am applying for jobs online everyday for as long as I can stomach it. I'll be sure to post about future developments as and when they pop up.

For now, let's talk about something amusing. This is the story of Friday night, The Worst Night of Clubbing Ever.

The Plan: a Friendz boat party followed by an afterparty at resident clubbing giant, Ministry of Sound.
The People: absolutely everyone in my crowd of friends who does the clubbing thing.
The Problem: read on....


It all started with Scarf and myself agreeing to help out Neutrino, who was organising the boat party, with promotions. We thought we were going to be handing out free champagne and chatting to people, which is what we were briefed. When we got on board the boat, however, we discovered that ResidentDJ, Neutrino's co-party-organiser, had forgotten to clear the free champers with the bar staff, who adamantly refused to allow it (something about taking money away from the bar). So Scarf and I ended up manning the cloak room. Fun times. Because we had to give people's jackets and bags back at the end of the party as well as take down the decor, we had to stay relatively sober.

At about 9:45pm, the boat docks to let one of the djs off, as he's playing the opening set at Ministry. As it docks, the power goes out. So there we are in pitch darkness with no music, and people start thinking, hey screw this shit, we're getting off the boat. So of course they want their jackets and bags. Scarf and I are suddenly mobbed by people trying to do a runner, and we end up crawling around on our hands and knees, in micro minis and boots, looking for people's stuff by the light from our mobiles. After 15 mins, the power comes back on and the boat leaves for the last hour and a half of the party. By now, we all just want to get off and get to Ministry, which is when the real party is going to start. Then at 11, I suddenly realise we'd told Mandz to meet us at Embankment station at 10:45pm, as we'd previously thought the boat party finished at 10:30, not 11:30. Cue major panic as we try and fail several times to get hold of Mandz, who eventually cusses us out for making her arrive an hour early when we reach her.

Eventually, after what seems like years, the damn boat docks. We FINALLY get to Embankment and then we wait another 15 minutes for Mandz and co to get to the station. In the meantime, the clock strikes 12 to bring about the Queen of Melodrama's 29th birthday. He spends his first minutes of birthday heaven on the platform in the station with no booze in sight.

We're all tired and a little cranky by the time we get on our way. We get to Ministry about 12:30pm. Back track a bit with me: when we first boarded the boat, we had to show text message tickets to prove we had paid. We also paid for our Ministry tickets through Friendz, but the two parties had different promoters and different rules, so when we boarded we were given paper tickets for Ministry. Shoes picked up my Ministry ticket for me as I was already on board - Eyes did not do the same for Scarf. So we get to the end of the boat party, ResidentDJ has left, and Scarf doesn't have a Ministry ticket. Major drama. Neutrino phones ResidentDJ, who says Scarf must go in on the guest list as Shelby something. He doesn't tell us that the guest list closes at 12.

So there we are outside Ministry, and those of us with tickets go inside. Meanwhile, Eyes and Scarf are outside, trying to explain the fuck up with the tickets, after having found the guest list is closed. Ministry doesn't want to hear their story. An hour and a half later, they finally make it inside after having to buy a brand new ticket for Scarf, who has now paid double for her night's entertainment. At the same time, Mandz is outside with Paddy and their friends Wes and Eve. Mandz has an actual ticket; Paddy, Wes and Eve only have receipts to confirm they have paid (don't know what happened there). Ministry refuses to accept the receipts. The three of them end up paying full price - again - to get in the door. They get in an hour later, and Wes has an anxiety attack and promptly leaves. Eve of course goes with him, and Paddy decides he can't abandon them, so escorts them home. They paid £30 each to be in a club for 10 minutes.

After that, things went fairly smoothly for the next three hours, but to say no-one was really into the whole experience was an understatement. I think the only 2 people who had any degree of fun were Mandz and I, who got on the dance floor and had to be forcibly dragged off at the end when the others wanted to leave.

Note to self: we are too old for back to back to parties. Stick to one - the fruits shall be sweeter.

The Cool Factor

I feel human again after a caner of a weekend - what other kind is there really? Lately I have been I feeling an overwhelming urge to party like mad in the next 18 months before the dreaded 3-0 - as if life is suddenly going to stop altogether when I reach that poisonous number. I am fully conscious of how irrational this is. I am also determined to be cool (not hip - you know you've lost the cool factor when you start using the word hip) WAY beyond the age of 30, but there's a small part of me that doubts if I'll still be able to pull it off.

I want to be that aunt that all the kiddies love - the one who spoils with abandon, wears gucci shades and stillettos by the pool and whose clothes all the teenagers want.The one who buys cleavage tops / inappropriate jewellery for the girls when mommy isn't looking and gives the boys dating advice. I was BORN to be a cool aunt! Actually, I was born to be a celebrity, but since that's not working out so well for me, the cool aunt is not too terrible a substitute.

One major problem with my familial career goal - I only have one niece, and technically she's not even mine. She is Shoes' sister's child, but since Shoes and I have been together practically since prehistoric times now, I think I've earned the right to be her cool aunt. Shoes' younger sister K is 15, and so therefore also falls into the "kids who should look up to and adore me" category. There's also a minor issue with K though; she's at an age where she pretty much hates the guts of all adults in any kind of authority, so that means anybody older than 21. Unless the 21 - or even 25 - year old in question is a guy. Then suddenly she finds it in her heart to bend the rules a bit. However, that is another story for another day.

On Friday I did what all the kids suspect that cool aunts do, but which cool aunts remain frustratingly mysterious about so as not to corrupt young minds - drink cocktails and tequila in a trendy city bar a la Sex and the City. I met Miss M, Midnite Gem and the lovely Kab for a chatter and a few tipples at Alibi. I really meant to have just one drink, but Gem's boyfriend C and his work mates turned up, and everytime I tried to leave another drink just appeared out of thin air in front of me, and well, it would have been rude to decline such a gesture, you know how it is. I was having a Harry Potter moment; the one where they are all sitting at the table in the Great Hall and delicious food materialises in front of them. With such magic afoot, to leave would have been to smite Dumbledore's legacy.

I think I managed to gather up my strength and say goodbye at around 10pm. It was the perfect time - one more Strawberry Cloud and I would have gotten on that dance floor, and once I start to trip the light fantastic, I'm going nowhere. I very nearly stopped by my work local for one more with the gang, but then realised this was a bad idea because a) I was not sober and that is the place I had my bag stolen, and b) I was ravenous, and that meant I was going to end up eating greasy chips and peanuts. Since I have sworn off junk food for a month in an attempt at a flat stomach for Spain, this would only serve to demotivate me. Don't get me wrong, I love to be demotivated. Any excuse to break the diet. It's your birthday and you want me to try your cake? But of course. These crisps are all the way from Scotland? Well I've never been there - they could be the best crisps in the world and I might never know. I'll have some, thanks.

In fact, I ended up breaking it in style with a massive KFC-fest on Sunday after the boat party, but I had a diet pepsi, so that's ok then.

The boat party on Saturday was fabulous, as always. Neutrino played a fantastic set - I'm really proud of him. It's quite something, seeing one of your best mates really making it in the cut throat industry of djing. He has a long way to go yet; the money is in producing tracks, not playing gigs (unless you are super famous), but he's starting to get paid small amounts for appearances and he's been busy in the studio cutting original tracks for his live sets. Most of the usual suspects came for the party, plus Oldest Friend and Queen of Melodrama, who put in their first appearances at what is sure to become a regular event for them. We didn't quite have sunshine, but for the first time we didn't have any rain either - bless you London. At least you're trying.

Breathless

It's a merry Monday morning, and I have butterflies in my stomach. Today is the day I am supposed to find out about the TV Network job. I just spoke to my agent, and she said she's going to call them in an hour and see if they've made a decision. I won't be surprised if they haven't, as it took them a week to get back to us about second interviews.

I was hoping I would still be blase about this now that crunch time is here, but I've discovered I'm human after all (as if I had any doubts) and I really want to get it, and I will be pretty bummed if I don't. I guess the thing that's different this time round is I know I did all I could do, and I'm proud of the way I handled the whole process. If they don't pick me, it won't be because they doubt my ability to do the job well, or because they don't like me. It will be simply because they liked the other girl more, or felt that she would fit better personality-wise with the rest of the team. Basically, I won't be passed up for this job due to any shortcomings; but I might be if the other candidate had that little something extra that made them go "wow!". And that I can live with.

I hope if it's a no that I get the answer tomorrow, though..... I'm very emotional today for some reason, and feel permanently on the edge of tears even though nothing's happened yet. Bloody hormones *sigh* I was walking from the station to work this morning, annd "May It Be" by Enya came on my mp3 player, and it struck me how it's perfect funeral song, and it would be nice to play it at the funeral of one of my friends if they had to die - and before I knew what was happening, I was balling my eyes out in the middle of the street. Ja, ek se maar niks nie.

The weekend was great. G-Days and La Poo came over on Friday night, and the girls watched reality show Dirty Dancing: Time of Your Life, where couples recreate the iconic scenes from the movie and then have dance-offs in pairs, while the guys drank beer and made sarcastic comments about the show, causing us to turn the TV up very loud.

On Saturday we went to the last Friendz boat party of the season. Neutrino was playing a set, so we went along for support but also because we've really fallen in love with these parties. Friendz is a South African party promoter in London, and they're still quite small, so their followers all regularly attend their events and everybody knows everybody else. Also, most are South African, so it's a little like a slice of Cape Town in London. It was an absolute cracker of a party, my only complaint is that it went way too quickly! We left Temple Pier at 3pm and docked again at 9pm. Then everyone came back to ours for the after party. Things get a bit blurry round about there, but we ended up going to bed at 3:30am, and spent most of Sunday wandering around in a bit of a daze.

This afternoon my company has a compulsory staff seminar entitled 2012 Olympic Games Celebration. Obviously we are involved in the work leading up to the Games, and this is the opportunity for staff to get "an update on all aspects of our work in relation to the 2012 Games and Legacy." This will be followed by drinks to celebrate the milestones we have already achieved. Can I can a snore snore snore? I am so not going to this. Have invented an interview with a phantom agency, when in reality I will be leaving early and going to grab a table at Wagamamma, where Shoes will join me for an early supper before we see Beowulf at the IMAX. I know, I should get a slap on the wrist, but there is a reason why I don't want to stay in my job.... I am not at all interested in what my company does! It's not even the fun part of organising the Olympics, it's the drudgery that comes with getting London ready for the masses descending on it. I'm afraid I feel no guilt for this one; in fact, it makes for a great start to my week. :-)