Thursday, May 03, 2007

An Election Night Without Nando

Nando arrived home sometime after I did. From my seat at my computer, I can look out over the street in front of our house. I heard the front door open and close, then I looked out and saw Nando's car. It doesn't take Sherlock Homes to figure out that it was likely that Nando just walked in the house. I set my alarm and went to sleep, trusting on technology to wake me in time for "Eastenders." When the alarm went off, I noticed that I had set it for 7:30PM, instead of 7:25. I usually give myself five minutes to get up, get dressed, and arrange myself in front of the tele. This time, I had forgotten. I struggled to put my pajamas on. Am I the only person in the world who wears pajamas almost everywhere, except to bed? The only time I wear pajamas to bed is when it's really cold, like in the dead of winter. The rest of the time , I prefer to sleep with nothing on, wearing pajamas around the house, so as not to subject my housemates to unnecessary nudity. This evening, I managed to end up with my pajama bottoms on inside out. What utter frustration! After getting them turned right side out, I hurried downstairs. I was missing my favorite soap opera.
To my surprise, I found the lounge empty and quiet. The TV was off. Nando rarely missed "Eastenders," except to watch football, or if he had to work. I looked out the window and noticed his car was gone. Where the bloody hell did he go? I hurriedly employed the two remote controls it takes to turn on our tele and my Sky box. Once "Eastenders" was on, I calmed down and relaxed on the settee I usually recline on. I wasn't pleased to discover I'd missed seven minutes of the program. How did that happen? Surely, it didn't take that long to sort my pajamas out? Later, I discovered the clock on my mobile, whose alarm I employ, was four minutes slow.
After "Eastenders" finished, I looked on the TV menu to decide what I would watch at 8PM. Checking the week's premiers, on Sky Movies, I noticed a film entitled, "Rumor Has It." I had never heard of it. All the other films starting then I had seen already. Checking the information on "Rumor Has It," I noted that it stars Jennifer Aniston. Who likes Jennifer Aniston more than me? No one, I'm sure. Kevin Costner is in it too. He's okay. Shirley MacLaine, she has her moments. Still undecided, I looked through everything else on that night, on all the channels I usually watch. Nothing else looked appealing. I decided to give "Rumor Has It" a try. As the film started, I took advantage of my free landline calls after 8 and called my artist friend, Jan. She is accompanying me to the world premier of "Traffic WARden," tomorrow evening. I wanted to coordinate where we are meeting tomorrow. Once that was settled, I told Jan that I was watching Jennifer Aniston. We discussed Jennifer's looks. As she appeared in a close up, on screen, I exclaimed, "what an interesting neck she has!"
Over the phone, Jan said, "it's long."
"How do you know?" I asked? "You're not watching." Jan remembered from seeing Jennifer play Rachel, on "Friends." Jan's artist's eye often makes note of the physical details of a person's appearance. "Jennifer Aniston is very beautiful, but in an unusual sort of way," I said.
"She looks vulnerable," Jan explains.
Vulnerable hadn't occurred to me. "Her eyes are close together," I counter," and her nose is a bit on the big side. And she has such lovely hair." After a pause, "I prefer her to Angelina Jolie" Brad Pitt and I differ on at least that point. Changing the subject, I ask Jan, "what should I blog about, tonight?" Most of my friends are probably sick of that question. I'm sure all of the ones I speak to regularly have endured that question several times.
"Jennifer Aniston," Jan suggested.
"No, I can't do that," I reply. "I don't have anything appropriate to say about her. Besides, she's one of my friends on Myspace and she could end up reading it." After a brief interlude, where I paid attention to the film, I went off on a different tangent. "Anything's better than that May Day crap I wrote, the other night."
"I thought it was funny," Jan countered.
"You would say that." I think Jan's biased in my favor. "It seemed to be all over the place and didn't have much point."
"I think the point is that you don't like to work."
"It felt like some pointless blob I spat out onto the screen." I'm my own worst critic. "I've read some blogs out there that are absolute rubbish. Some people's blogs are absolute crap. Some write a sentence, then post a picture. Then another sentence followed by another picture. It's so juvenile. It's like reading a Dr. fucking Seuss book, without the rhyming." Jan laughed heartily. "You remind me of the Hungarian woman I worked with at the studios, last week. She would have laughed at that. I think you two would like each other. You would really get along."
Jan agreed and her laughter subsided, gradually, like a house settling onto its foundations. "I didn't even get shortlisted for that Best of British Blog awards. You know what beat me out to win the Weird and Wonderful category? A blog about chickens. A webcam in a hen house. I don't even get shortlisted and a webcam in a hen house wins." I was on a roll. I suppose I felt a little like the way Jennifer Aniston felt when Brad Pitt left her to be with Angelina.
"What's popular is never what's good," Jan said, trying to comfort me.
"I don't get shortlisted and some bloody chickens win. How interesting can chickens be? I don't think enough of you nominated me," I stated.
"I did," Jan replies, a little too quickly.
"Not enough people did, I bet." After a long pause, I realized that I was no closer to finding a blog topic and I had totally lost the plot of the film. Jan and I ended the conversation and I tried to catch on to what happened in the film. It was no use. Then it occurred to me that the film is restarting at 9PM. I set the TV to the appropriate channel and went upstairs. I figured I could mess around on the computer till the film restarts.
While I was surfing the net, the doorbell suddenly rang. Who the heck could it have been? Reluctantly, I ran downstairs to open the door. There was a time when I would open the door to find the Exotic Flower standing there. That time is no more. Besides, the Flower always knocked. She never rang the bell. I never did find out why. Upon opening the door, I was confronted by an unattractive, old woman. I wondered what she wanted.
"We're coming round to remind you that the polls are still open, if you were planning to use your vote," the old crone said. We're? She was all on her own. What does she have, multiple personality disorder, or something?
"I'm foreign and even if I could vote, I wouldn't," I explained, barely containing my contempt. To be disturbed over something as rubbish as politics. Oh for Pete's sake! Possibly sensing that she wasn't going to get anywhere with me, the old woman turned to go. I couldn't shut the door quick enough. I had forgotten it was election day, in the UK.
At 9PM, I sat back down to try watching "Rumor Has It," again. Without distractions, I found it funny and entertaining. Kevin Costner plays a man who has had sex with Jennifer Aniston's character's mother and grandmother. He caps that off by having sex with Aniston's character as well. Now that's entertainment! Shirley MacLaine is funny in it, as well. Some critics panned it, but I thought it was quite enjoyable. Near the end, Nando walked in. He'd been working. When I told him how much I'd been enjoying the film, he said he'd put it on for 15 minutes, the other night, and switched it off. Nando doesn't have much patience for comedies. "This film's too subtle for you," I explained to him. I had gone through some trials and tribulations on an election night without Nando around.

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Blogger © Karelian Blonde said...

As a foreigner you are allowed to vote on local elections but not on national. You just have have be registered with your local council on the electoral register.

12:06 AM  
Blogger JosephintheBracknell said...

That's only if you are a European, I think. You can vote for MEP and that sort of nonsense. My landlord tried to submit me to tthe local council and they wrote back that I wasn't eligible, but my Italian housemate is. Anyway, don't forget, "I wouldn't vote even if I could." I also loathe the idea of "registering" with the terrocrats.

1:17 AM  
Blogger © Karelian Blonde said...

Oh well, I just think that if you dont vote, don't moan. Eligibility is another question. But don't you think that the loyalty card issuers are a bigger threat to your privacy as they know more about you and your habits after you...scary...

6:53 AM  
Blogger JosephintheBracknell said...

No, loyalty card people sell me stuff. They aren't "the state."

Only if you don't vote do you preserve the oral high ground to "moan." If you vote, you are tacitly agreeing to comply with the outcome. Thus, if you vote you really have no grounds for moaning.

5:50 PM  

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