North of the Stupid Line

Yes, yes. A certain someone has forced me to write an account of my drunken antics last night. Basically, it was the GSD AGM at the Law Society, Chancery Lane, and afterwards I gorged myself on the free red wine that was on offer (I don’t know how much wine I drank, but one person thinks I must have drank over a bottle (gulp)).

So, sufficiently pissed, I made my way home – at least, tried to. I got a free cab ride to Chancery Lane, courtesy of a Law Society employee’s husband, and proceeded into the bowels of the earth to get a tube train to either Bank or Tottenham Court Road. The next trains due to arrive were about 10 mins, so I thought bugger that and went back up on the streets to get a bus to TCR. However, buses were taking ages. I think one bus did go pass that I could have got on, but even though I signalled for it, it didn’t stop! Grr.

Anyway, it was taking ages for a bus to come along, so I thought bugger this and went back into the tube station. Got on a train to Bank (had to wait for about 5 mins for it, so not too bad). Got to Bank, but it didn’t stop! I was like “oh for gawd’s sake” as the train went through Bank station.

Eventually we got to Liverpool Street. I got off, and thought to myself, right, I can get the 205 bus from here to Moorgate and get the 43 bus home. No such luck. I got out on the wrong side of Liverpool St (i.e. the Bishopsgate side) and completely lost my sense of direction. All the buses seemed to be going to the same destinations. I was as pissed as a skunk.

So, what did I do? Thought bugger this and decided to get a taxi home. But, spent 30 mins trying to find a bloody taxi that was free (i.e. available not free ?). Eventually saw one pulling up and the passenger getting out, so I ran over and said to the driver “Can you take me to Muswell Hill please?”. Off we went, and that little 20 minute journey cost me ?25. But at least I got home!

So there we are. I can imagine Alison jumping up and down with glee now.

Well, well. Some interesting developments. I was dreading Thursday’s AGM because I thought that I would have to put myself forward to be the Chairman for another year, when really, I didn’t want to. I’d decided yesterday that I was not going to be Chairman for another year, regardless of whether or not there was anyone else to replace me. It wouldn’t be my fault that the GSD wouldn’t have a full Executive and the Law Society wouldn’t allow us to sign the RGA and give us a funding grant for 2004-2005.

Anyway, I found out yesterday that a Sue Maynard-Campbell has nominated herself to be Chair for 2004-2005! Who is she?! I’ve asked for more information about her. But nonetheless, it is a huge weight off my shoulders. I am actually looking forward to the AGM on Thursday now, knowing it’ll be the last meeting I chair.

I’ve almost finished the Clementi response, and am planning to post it on here. I’ve asked Alison to look through what’s been done so far and add some more disabliity-related stuff (as that’s her thang). I’ve also started drafting the Chairman’s address for the AGM. I’m going to be a bit revolutionary and include information about the GSD’s new yahoogroup (that they don’t know about yet or have ignored!) and how to join, and also about Deaf Lawyers UK. I’m also going to suggest some new developments for the next Chair to do over the next year, and try and kick some sense into the members – without them, the GSD can’t function.

Hurrah!

“We’re going to the zoo, zoo, zoo,
How about you, you, you?
Won’t you come too, too, too?”

Yep, that what I did today. Popped to London Zoo with Rachel and Oliver to meet the families involved in the Counselling and Befriending Service and volunteer our services (Rachel and I are trained peer befrienders and volunteers). Needless to say, we weren’t needed, so the three of us hopped around the zoo alone quite happily.

One scathing comment. London Zoo had organised a “Special Children Day” for today, and I just felt like “how patronising can you get?”. How are disabled kids “special” just because they’re disabled? It’s like saying a black person is special because they’re black. What a load of bollocks. Ok, some of these kids have had to put up with a lot of shit throughout their lives, but the last thing they need is a bunch of do-gooders trying to make their lives “better”.

We saw giraffes, otters, tigers, boars, spiders (urrgh), and so on. Only problem was, a lot of cages or glass house things were empty, so it did kind of feel like you were going around the zoo to look at nothing. One thing I remember most was the otter pen. It was feeding time, and all these otters had a bite to eat, and then when the keeper went back in (apparently to get more food), they all tottered down to their little lake and then down this water chute into another little lake, scampering up into this little rock alcove. Then they must have heard the keeper calling, cos they all scampered back up the way they came to be greeted by dead mice, which they all quite happily started chomping on. The whole scene was just so cute.

It was quite a nice day out and nicest thing about it, it’s only about 30 minutes from the flat in Muswell Hill.

Oliver, a budding photographer, took these two really interesting pics of the tube. Well, I like them. Here you are Ols, a platform for your art! ;o)

I think they’re interesting because you can see the fast movement as opposed to the slow movement i.e. the slow is clearer than the fast. It’s cool! Does Oliver have a future as a photographer?

Omg, from the comments Stuart’s made on this blog, I do believe I’ve seen a side to him that I’ve never seen before – the thoughtful, reflective and intelligent Stuart. Who would have believed it?

Don’t you just love it when people continue to surprise you even if you’ve known them for a while. Stuart certainly has many sides to his personality and character – perhaps he’s schizophrenic?

For all of you in the know, Stuart’s going to be my best man at Rachel and I’s wedding, and his comments on this blog have reassured me that he’s going to give a blinding speech. Who could ask for anything more?