warmlove's Diaryland
Diary
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Stormy weather
*doo bee doo bee dah doooo* Phew...I'm drained, knackered, dazzled, and frizzy-haired from the London hail-storm from hell. But I'm home and dry after a bizarre afternoon that involved dropping by the police station to report the second crime in as many weeks...
Sunday before last at 5 in the morning I was woken up by knocking on the door. I got up and started to climb up the stairs to answer it, assuming it was Steve or Andy coming back from Leon and Elle's party, before I could get to the top there was a massive smash and some pissed, angry, threatening and aggressive stranger burst in ranting and raving about being owed weed from someone, and coke then he came in sat down, pushing the front door shut and started shouting about 'shooting-up' the guy that ripped him off...That was the point where I went 'Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttt! This man has a gun. This man has a guy and he will point it at me (in my head obviously) but he didn't, I went and stood out on the street and was literally begging him to go , telling him that he had the wrong house and that there was nothing I could do to help him..He was all: 'You go back to bed princess..but we'll be back cos you don't fuck with us. We're the family..' (like a budget gangster film or something. Anyway, I actually considered going back to bed and using the door bolt but I felt like his threat could be a serious one and the door could so easily be kicked in again by more Tony Montana wannabes. So I called 999 and reported it and as the nice 999 lady was asking me if I was alone int the house guess who i see drunkenly sauntering past the window again..yup bastard-doorkicker..back again! I was pretty freaked out and the 999 lady was giving me noooo reassurance. But luckily at that very second a white van parked up outside the house and plainclothed officers swooped in. Phew! Though, bizarely PC thingmabob asked me if I wanted them to arrest him!!!?? Strange. 'Nah, dude it's cool.. Let him go he mean well..I understand what it's like to me jonesing for a fix officer. Sort him out with a line of something for the cab ride home would ya?'. And then yesterday I returned to the bike stand after work to find my Mums' beautiful little speedster that been pinched..I assume not a revenge from Sunday's arrest..they usually chuck a salmon under your duvet don't they?! The world, however, continues to spin and more momentous events (than what feels like my week as an extra on The Bill) do happen.
My goodness... Michael Jackson's memorial service is kinda like the most morbid, circus-like thing. American's seem to do glitzy morbid well. Like there is a giant stage and his coffin in arranged just below centre stage, covered in flowers and a who's-who of successful black singers are wheeled out. Televised across the globe (and yes, I know I am a massive hypocrite because I'm watching it as I eat my pizza dinner right now).
There were fans who were quoted in the paper as being 'Sooo excited..This is unbelievable' because they won tickets to the memorial service. That's kinda creepy..like the poor guy died before they could see his come-back tour but they'll settle for bopping up and down in close proximity to the coffin. Shudder. Maybe I shouldn't be so cynical. Maybe the Channel 5 'FA cup style' funeral commentary is adding to the morbid, tackiness.
I can understand how someone's beautiful, amazing music or performance can effect you and change your life in a strange sort of way. That's a pretty cool thing and I get all the out-pouring of grief for a guy none of us knew. I guess the whole circus is a fitting end to someone who lived their whole life on stage, as a star and a celebrity or whatever even if the dark, nasty side of it they never asked for. But hey we're all human and are gonna die and hope that a bunch of people we knew or people who thought they knew us and what we were about will gather and say nice things about us and play a tune or two. x
6:56 p.m. - 2009-07-07
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