Stephen here. So, I’ve been busy.
First I was writing and practicing my best man’s speech with Craig, the other best man. Then we went up to the wedding (near Derby) and we were the best men (with the possible exception of the groom). There we did the speech and it went pretty well, especially considering how nervous we were in rehearsal. The wedding was on Sunday. Everything went well, though it was a shame that the heavens opened just after the ceremony, making the photographer’s job more difficult. The photos got done – they just took more time. Ian and Sarah, the happy couple, went off on honeymoon, and I came back to sort out my tax affairs.
As you may know, I was fined £100 for not submitting a 2001/02 tax return. I’ve never submitted one before, and wasn’t asked to for that year. My mum spent ages trying to get some sense (and a return to complete) from the tax office, and was eventually advised by a friend to write to her MP. I thought this was an odd idea, but within no time we had an answer. The tax office sent me a form, but it got returned to them soon after. They ignored this and decided to fine me anyway. They also ignored our requests for them to send a form out and threatened me with more fines if I didn’t return the form they’d never sent me. Gah! I completed the 2001/02 form (they finally sent) and one for the following year, and sent them off. I hope they’re happy now. The 2002/03 form was made more complicated by the fact that Anne and I are renting out our flat in Ealing, and, being me, I found this complication interesting.
I also prepared Anne’s tax return (which my mum will have to fill out when it arrives since, despite requests, they’ve not sent her return). I then filed both Anne’s and my Australian tax return. Oh joy – what a fine time I’ve been having.
London calling
I’ve also been relaxing and enjoying my mum’s hospitality. On Tuesday I went into London to meet friends. I went in early to make the most of the day, and whilst I was waiting for lunch time to come around (when I had arranged to meet some Economist colleagues) I thought I’d do some touristy things in London (having spent the last six months as a tourist elsewhere.
I went along to the London Transport Museum in Covent Garden, as I’d heard it’s good, and I’d seen a documentary on the history of the tube on The History Channel last week. I went to the ticket office and asked the lady if the concession ticket rate applied to YHA members (backpackers). Without even looking at me, and still reading her magazine, the lady managed to grunt a negative, and brilliantly pretended that I hadn’t disturbed her in the first place. This put my back up a bit. I wasn’t trying to be cheap, and was willing to pay the full rate. I tried to make conversation and asked who does get the concession rate. I had even less luck with that one. I wandered out of there in a daze. I got in a bad mood and decided that I hated Britain. I wanted to be back in Australia. Silly cow.
For want of a better expression, The London Transport Museum can shove it up their fat arse.
I went to The National Portrait Museum instead. That’s free, and the staff are intelligent. (Microsoft Word is telling me that that should be “The staff is intelligent”, which I know is right, but it would be silly to write it like that.)
Watching too many movies
I’ve been talking to friends who read this blog, and follow Anne’s and my big adventure. One of the criticisms some have is that I watch too many movies. They are wrong.
I’ve really missed my DVD player, though have only watched two DVDs since my return. I’ve also seen one film at the flicks, and watched almost one film on VHS.
My mum taped Ang Lee’s Ride With The Devil ages ago, and had not watched it. I fancied it, so mum and I sat down to watch it on Friday evening. I was not impressed when the film stopped after two hours (with the story some way from completion). My mum said she probably assumed the film wouldn’t be longer than two hours when she set the video and made some remarks which indicated that she thought it the director’s fault that the whole film wasn’t on the tape. I intend to write to Ang Lee to complain about this. Since I missed the end I can’t review the film here.
On DVD I watched Daredevil and Adaptaion. I’d heard Daredevil wasn’t good from a few people, but stubbornly wanted to see it. I’m a fan of comic books (though don’t really read them any more) and I always want comic book movies to be good. I though it was OK, but not a lot happened and the best thing in it, Colin Farrel’s Bullseye, wasn’t in it much. It was a very lightweight introduction to Daredevil. Two and a half stars. Ooh I love DVD.
Adaptation was much better. A very original story about screenplays and adapting a book into a screenplay (as well as being about just about everything else). As a blog writer and the co-writer of a best man’s speech, I found I could relate to the protagonist’s issues intimately. Four and a half stars.
My mum and I went to see The Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (phew – I’m not repeating that!) last night at the cinema. I’d had no interest in seeing this, until my friend Tony pointed out that it has had good reviews. I’m glad I saw it as it was a good, silly blockbuster that takes itself not-at-all seriously. Johnny Depp is just great in it. Worth a look. Four stars.
My Monkey Lies Over The Ocean
People have asked me, “So, are you talking to Anne on the phone every day?” A reasonable question, since we’ve been away together for six months and travelling with each other for the last two. I was sorry to report that I’ve not spoken to her once since I returned to the UK. We’ve sent a few text messages and emails, and had a conversation on MSN Messenger, but that’s it. I am missing her though, and looking forward to seeing her on Sunday (after my mammoth flight back to Perth). Anne’s working on an organic farm at the moment, but should be back in Perth on Friday. She says she’ll ring me then. Then I'll see her when I get off the plane on Sunday, all grumpy after a 21 hour flight. Yay - I'm a-coming for ya Anne.