I’m all kind of tired tonight.

Yesterday was spent at an all day training session. The material was delivered well but, for me at least, wasn’t anything I didn’t know. I wasn’t disappointed with the day though as – although I said little – quite a bit of fun spending time with some of my more funny colleagues and an opportunity to catch up with some others I haven’t seen in a while. I do wish the trains could be a bit more conducive. I spent the journey back wedged between three other people, one of whose shoulder was in my throat, my right hand trying to hold me upright from the overhead bar (not as easy as it sounds, given my height) and the other desperately trying to hold my rucksack without making contact with the woman standing behind me. Oh and it was so hot in there you could have fried an egg on my forehead.

I digress.

Walking home this evening, and ignoring the temptation to trawl Soho for Warren Ellis an then tweet to him “is this stalkerish enough” (see his twitterfeed to see what I’m on about), I found the sight of the Astoria post final night rather sad and forlorn. This was nothing compared to the shock…nay horror at discovering that Dionysus (the best kebab shop near work) is closing its doors on or around Monday. What am I supposed to do for a hangover cure now? I know crossrail is good and I know it’s hard to build anything in London without pulling something down…but still: that’s a piece of the fabric of London they’re tearing out. Oh dear: I sound like dumpy version of Kevin Mcleod. Abbi is far more erudite on the matter than I.

Surfing along the hallowed halls of the cult of Face I learn that my friend Zarina, a very talented artist, has been interviewed about for Amelia’s magazine. In it she talks about her recent work The Hunter Series and the big life questions: Camden or Cambridge? Z is really very good – don’t believe me: go here.

At this point a plane went into the Hudson and distracted me. Not because I’m in NYC – I’m not but because Twitter goes haywire when stuff like this happens and Twitterfox is very determined to get your attention. Looks like everyone is OK and I’m back now. Except I forgot what I was going to say.

Ah yes, I remember. This weekend looks like fun. I’m off to Glastonbury (and yes: I am aware the festival isn’t on) and stopping off at Stonehenge on the way. Why? Well, we’ve never been and most people I know who’ve been to the town (not the festival) seem to think it’s worth a visit and I’ve also set part of Forever in that neck of the woods. Googlemaps is good (I’m relying on it for Nagasaki) but not foolproof. I dare say G will be taking some pictures and so there should be some stuff up on Sunday.

And I am wishing my sister good luck for her exam tomorrow. Erm, good luck S.

I’m ending with a quote from The Who:

“Down at the astoria the scene was changing,
Bingo and rock were pushing out x-rating,”
We were the first band to vomit in the bar,
And find the distance to the stage too far,
Meanwhile its getting late at ten oclock,
Rock is dead they say,
Long live rock.”

The Rock goes on but alas the Astoria is gone.