Well, I've done it just before Epiphany, so the 12 days of Christmas aren't even officially over yet, which all means that it may already be the 5th January, but I can still wish all (any?) of my reader(s) a New Year that's better than 2005. That's a good sentiment, isn't it? After all, the more, erm, pragmatic amongst us may think it rather foolhardy to wish for pure happiness (if such a thing really exists), but the hope for improvement is not beyond even the most cynical, surely.
It won't wash though, will it? The forced look for a silver lining thing I mean. My 2006 has started with a step deeper into the pit of self-loathing and doubt. It was foolish, perhaps, to agree to play fiddler (or spare wheel, or gooseberry) to two coupled-up friends. That's unfair actually, because S&D are about the most 'separated' couple I know, and I get on very well (though differently) with each. E&G, on the other hand? Well, E's my best friend, if stating that in my early 30s doesn't mark me as immature. G is her new, older, more experienced 'partner' (at 44, can I really call him her boyfriend?) who really doesn't seem to have very much to say for himself. Oh, yes, he's 'well-intentioned', a 'good man', but, well, E has so much vigour about her I can see that he would be dazzled. Who am I to pass judgement? Actually, I'm not passing judgement, it's just my opinion I'm expressing. After all, my track record these past few years would tell you that my skills in the 'loving' arena are definitely waning.
Aaah, sweet digression... Nestled as I was between S&D and E&G, I worked my way diligently through 7 delicious courses. Oh, please note that 3 of the courses were actually what are known as 'bonnes bouches' - a light little something to appetise or cleanse the palette. Not everyone could finish their oysters (½ a dozen each) so I had two extra. Not everyone could finish their poached pears with dark chocolate sauce either, so I had extra sauce. Not everyone even knew what quince jelly was, or liked Rocquefort, so I had extra of that, too. Whenever else do I get to indulge in 'haute cuisine' though, eh? The service at this place (Upstairs, Acre Lane) was something else. We sat down at 20h45, and didn't leave until twenty to midnight. Given that we had planned to go into Soho for the bells (remember, it was New Year's Eve) we were all a little put out. It's not even as if the restaurateur had made us feel particularly special by spending time to talk to us (we were his only guests by 11). Still, not wanting to complain (British reserve and all that) I just quipped, "It's so authentic, really like being in France, right down to the service!" when the waiter brought us our bill and asked if everything had been okay. Oh, how we almost laughed!
Waddling back to the house, for that was where it was decided we would see the New Year in, I was dismayed to hear G complain about the restaurant, and not for anything like slow service or too-rich sauces, but the company! Had the banter around the table offended his Sussex sensibilities? I think not. Indeed, he elaborated, "Ah mean, it's the sor' a plice you'd wanna go wiv a couple more couples [yes, he said that] and 'ave loads a wine [bear in mind this is a fine French restaurant whose bottles range from £18 - £???] so it don't ma''er 'aa long they tike wiv the food." I turned around (I mean, I really did turn around as I was walking in front of E&D) and curtly replied, "well,
I have no complaints about the company at all!" E sprang to his defence, but I changed the subject.
As I'm so good at sweeping things under the carpet (not literally, I use a vacuum cleaner in reality) I soon chirped up and got hold of the glasses and champagne. While Andrew Marr in a kilt in Edinburgh and Natasha can-she-really-be-the-same-age-as-me?
Kaplinsky at Somerset House, and that lady from the races at the London Eye talked us through the fireworks (they're big, loud, bright and seem to go on forever!) we all politely wished eachother all the best. My words were actually: "May your New Years be full of love and laughter!" Reaction: Awkward laughter and 'likewise, I'm sure', I think I heard!
Two hours later I made my way to a party down the road from me. The place was 'jumpin' and full of friendly twenty-somethings. And 2 hours after that one of said youngsters walked me home, all above board, perhaps. When I awoke on New Year's Day I decided to invite a long-distance admirer to London - why keep it to just the telephone? Really, it was an assignation, but one that I had hoped would be more than a one night (and morning) wonder. As the years progress I still have the capacity to be so let down, so I have now resolved to give all 'cyber-dating' a wide berth. A-ha, dear reader(s), I hadn't even mentioned that aspect had I? And now it's over! I'm just gonna keep on unlovin' in the free real world, or something.
