My copy of Les Misérables by Victor Hugo is 1,232 pages long and has been gathering dust on my classics shelf for a while now.  One day it will get read but not today (to be fair I’m probably going to read The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic first).

Sometimes I set myself reasonable targets with unrealistic deadlines (like reading Les Mis anytime soon).  My Little Monster Reward Chart, however, only sets four daily targets; get out of bed before 9:30am, eat breakfast before 12pm, apply for a job and write 500 words.

These targets and their deadline are very realistic (you probably do at least two of them everyday without even thinking about it) and yet in the previous week I awarded myself one measly tick.  If last week hadn’t been so much fun I would have had to write it off as an ultimate failure.

All I managed to achieve blogwise was to update this post with a full list of site modifications I’d like to make, a list of posts I’m currently working on (and their appropriate word counts) and a to-do list for my life (note that I achieved four of these).

Updating old work isn’t the same as creating new content, however, and the standard issue WordPress calendar is beginning to resemble an empty wasteland devoid of posts.  On Sunday the number of site visitors dipped to zero for the first time ever (almost as if there’s some correlation between more content and more clicks, weird).

Maybe I haven’t been typing but I’ve certainly been having fun.  Antonio showed up on Wednesday and we went for drinks with Lottie, another plus is that my housemates seem not to hate him (which is always good).

On Friday I went to Guy’s leaving do in Ember Lounge where I met (read “networked with”) someone who works for the Staffordshire Newsletter (a paid weekly) and learnt the phrase “nice to see you” in sign language.  I also learnt signs for the following words; pint, whiskey, vodka, walking, jumping, kicking, hopping, straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, tea, coffee and cream cake.  Feel free to create a sentence that includes as many of these as possible.

The next day I got on a train and travelled to Oxford for Clara’s birthday celebrations.  Oxford is filled with bicycles, bookshops, scarf clad students, quaint little shops that seem to belong in Beatrix Potter (Ginger and Pickles anyone?) and places you can drink in without sticking to the floor.

It was great to meet Clara’s family and a selection of her friends and we headed out for a night that started out in the Hobgoblin and ended up in the Carling Academy.  Learnt the sign language for “easy tiger.”

Sunday was spent drinking tea, eating toast, slowly coming to and watching The Devil Wears Prada (enjoyed critquing the outfits with Clara, Dacia and Vicky but probably need to watch it again and pay more attention to the dialogue).  Then we went to Frankie & Benny’s and ate cheeseburgers.

Today, my birthday, Clara and I went to a quaint little pub and had steak and chips for breakfast.  We then went to the cinema to see Frost/ Nixon.  This is a film that I wanted to see but there weren’t many people I could go with because the love interests and zombie hordes take a backseat to political interviews.  Here are my thoughts on the movie;

Anyone that’s caught me watching The West Wing on their TV or reading presidential debate transcripts on their PC will know that I’m fascinated by American politics.  The Nixon administration is the one that fascinates me the most because it ties in with another of my perversions, journalism (I have 0.25 of a degree in this subject).*

Hunter S. Thompson was the first journalist to spend an entire year on the campaign trail and Nixon’s re-election campaign in 1972 was the year Thompson chose to do it.  Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein of The Washington Post were the journalistic tag team that wrestled the Nixon administration to its knees over Watergate.  And when Nixon finally resigned before he could be impeached it was journalist David Frost whose televised interviews gave Tricky Dickie the trial he never had.

The book Frost/ Nixon is fascinating and worth the money (I paid £2), if only for the rather anal interview transcripts in which every hesitation is recorded (Nixon: “Ah, ah, so that in effect, ah, they, as they listen, ah, will be able to hear the facts, ah, make up their own minds.”)

Fascinating though it may be, the book is a record of political journalism and as such can be dry in places.  This film takes all the information and then injects the life back into it; Nixon becomes a fatally flawed yet bizarrely lovable former president (Frank Langella’s affectation of Nixon’s accent and mannerisms is truly impressive) and Frost (Michael Sheen) becomes a playboy that got lucky rather than the political hotshot he tries to make himself out to be in the book.

Choice lines have been culled from the original interviews and the dialogue that has been witten for the film is funny and insightful.  Alongside various visual touches it gives us a greater insight into the two main characters.

The timing of this film is also striking, when Nixon’s views on Vietnam are cross examined it is hard not to think of another unpopular president who waged an unsuccessful war, one who has recently left office.  Who in the media will try George W. Bush for his crimes against the world?  Somehow I imagine his defence will be less eloquent than that of Nixon.

* This sits alongside my 0.25 of a degree in Creative Writing and 0.5 of  “Your degree has been terminated.  Next time try turning up and actually doing something.”   I probably have point something or other of a degree in Graphic Design but that is beyond my mathematical capabilities.

Clara and I left the cinema and returned to cold grey Oxford, picked up my stuff, sat in a bar and discussed travelling and then I caught a train home.  On the way back to Stoke I finished reading Breaking Dawn, so expect a review whenever I recover.

My housemates bought me a big fluffy dressing gown that’s dark enough to disguise a multitude of tea stains (just like I asked for) and a High School Musical birthday card (includes a bedroom door hanger, one side reads “Do Not Disturb LOST IN MUSIC”, the other “Come in! Let’s have fun… ALL FOR ONE” , which is probably the weirdest way to phrase an orgy invitation ever).

It’s your Birthday!   …so REACH for the STARS

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