Don't worry, I wont waste the time, I'll do the post office trip while the battery is charging.
So, I blame Twitter and my iphone and applications called Fish Tycoon and Fantastic Contraption.
We've had a long a varied weekend. Films have been pouring in from all over the world to show at The KNIFTAs. Craig has done all the work on this project, I haven't done a thing, so I'm very excited to get to Sunday. It's going to be great.
A friend, who lives in the US, was in London this weekend so we saw a lot of him which was great. I've known him since I was a kid. We don't see much of each other because of the distance and it's great/weird to feel like a grownup and discuss how grown up our lives are. That is, until I fell down the stairs of a West End club - I swear it wasn't all the booze! It was the slippery stairs! I made a show of myself, as we'd say in Liverpool.
On the way home on Saturday night, as I say we are grown up now so it was only 11pm -ish, Craig and I were eating a doughnut near Trafalgar Square. We were merrily wandering home when a car, moving very slowly in traffic, wound down is window and a horrible little creep began to hurl homophobic abuse at us. I was mortified, but didn't stop eating my doughnut, and I have to admit we did a little shouting back!
We walked on but we were too incensed and I suggested we call the police as they are still stuck in the slow moving traffic. Craig agreed so I did. I called the police. I was a little sqiffy and told them I'd been homosexually abused by a thug in a car stuck in traffic. Craig screamed with laughter but I plodded on, correcting myself and walking back to the car. We found the car, windows rolled up. I asked the passenger why he'd been abusive (while on the phone to the police) and he said he hadn't and refused to get out of the car. Craig, meanwhile, was taking pictures of the car to get the registration.
I stood in front of the car and told the police the registration and make of the car and described the people in the car.
It was only the next day that I realised how bizarre the whole event was. The police came to see me at work today and took more details. I felt the need to apologise for calling them and acknowledged that I might have been a bit stupid to go after the car but I was so angry that some people think they can just treat people like shit and get away with it. We, not being shit or anything remotely similar, didn't let them get away with it.
The police said it was the right thing to call but the most that would happen, realistically, would be they would trace the driver and question him about it and ask who were the passengers. I was really happy with that, though. Imagine the driver's face when he gets the call about the hate crime he committed on St Valentines Day in central London!
Life can be very colourful.
I spent yesterday worrying that I would be in trouble with the police for wasting their time, and knitting a glove for the Old Vic's production of Dancing at Lughnasa.
It's not a great picture, sorry, it's from my phone.