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Monday, May 31, 2004

I went over to St Ives today to see my friend Helen (it's always good to link a name to a stoopid photo. I'd do it with Marie too, but firstly she has no relevance to this blog post, and secondly she'd kill me. Which is why I wouldn't do it with Lisa either). Barely three miles from home, I was somewhat startled to see the head of Shotley Drama Group pull out of a driveway in Chelmondiston, and follow me down the road towards Ipswich. Naturally I assumed he was after a copy of my latest play, so just as naturally I put my foot down and sped off.

Thirty miles further on, heading west along the A14 towards Cambridge, I stopped for petrol, had a drink of water, then leisurely made my way back onto the dual carriageway. Whereupon I checked my rearview mirror to make sure traffic was giving way, and saw... the head of Shotley Drama Group hurtling towards me at 60mph.

If my life was a horror film, I'd have been chopped to pieces by now. The people of Elm Street have come face to face with less evil than me. Concerned that if I allow him to draw up alongside me, he'd ask me to rewrite Internet Cafe with more songs and a big dance routine at the end, I put my foot down once again and managed to accelerate away. Fortunately it worked, and I kept to a steady ninety for the rest of the journey just to be on the safe side.

I arrived at Helen's in time for a lunch of ham and mustard bagels. I declared myself "a bit peckish", Helen was "starving", so naturally we divided the three bagels fairly, with one for her and two for me.

Helen's daughter, who by a freak of nature also happens to be my first cousin once removed (I know, I can hardly believe it myself), was in possession of a new stereo, bought for her by her boyfriend (which is the main advantage of not being single), so I caringly offered her twenty quid for her old one, a deal was struck, and I came away looking like I'd been to a car boot sale. I like her boyfriend. Obviously I've never met him, but I don't have to.

The afternoon featured tea and cake with my aunt, a drive to Needingworth for some chocolate (well, that was what *I* got out of it anyway), and a visit to a garden centre where we bought no plants whatsoever. Then it was back to Helen's where I entertained (I use the word loosely) everyone with a medley of Matchbox 20 songs on the guitar. Which produced a spontaneous round of applause. Well it did when I stopped anyway. Which could be significant.

In the evening it was back to my aunt's for spaghetti bolognese and pears (not on the same plate). I successfully managed not to volunteer any information about my love life, and my aunt was far too polite to ask, meaning I won my bet with Helen that I could make it until 7pm without being asked about Lisa. Some bets are just there to be won.

I made my way home at 9:30pm, managing to avoid amateur dramatic encounters on the return journey, and arrived back at 10:45pm, which suggests I may have broken the odd speed limit. Which I'm sure can't be true.

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