Adventures South of the River

Hey All,

Thanks to Central Line Snafus and a rather ill-advised nap, I made it to the Psy-Trance party I had to cover just before the Guest-list cutoff.

After spending the obligatory 30 minutes in the Cloak Room Queue, I explored my surroundings and found something like five or six rooms of different kinds of electronic music being played at ear-splitting volumes. I also saw a surprising number of familiar faces, and none of the aggro chavs I was warned would be in attendance. I wandered around, danced about, took some notes and ended the night chilling with a flying squad of Swiss ravers who had come to see their DJ friend play.

The place turned out at 10 AM, and I had breakfast at a nearby cafe. Taking the tube to Stratford, I stopped in at a WH Smith and found the 2007 Writers Handbook, published by MacMillan, which I figured was something worth having, so I bought it.

The Central line was still under 'planned engineering works', so I stupidly took the Tube Replacement Bus instead of the 257, which meant that I got caught in a traffic jam at the north end of Leytonstone High Road, which wouldn't have been so bad if the bus I was riding wasn't a stinking diesel hulk they had pulled out of mothballs just for this route. It was all I could do not to throw up by the time I got back to Leytonstone Station.

Naturally, I had to catch at 257 in the other direction to get back to my flat.

Now I'm checking my messages before I jump in a shower, change into none club-stinking clothes and head to my office The Devonshire Arms to write out my notes and plan how I'm going to write the piece on the Antiworld Party.

The idea, of course, is that I don't nod off between now and then, because to do so would throw my sleeping patterns clean out of whack. And I need to keep it together this week. I have fat fish to fry.

*Must*
*not*
*lie*
*down*

Over and out,

-J