Ice to see you, to see you… ice

(Apologies for non-UK readers who won't get the reference).

I want to be here:

Found

A l'Oréal Shocking Volume Waterproof Moisturizer thingy. Not exactly lost, more thrown from a car window by its owner because it was empty, in a stunning display of public citizenship.

I'm at a staff research conference this morning, in the Lighthouse cinema. I'm on first, which at least gets the boring stuff out of the way. We're already running late - one of the three organisers has arrived, only 20 minutes late.

I see the day as a trap. Our new management will be taking notes. Anyone conducting research which doesn't attract external funding will be sacked. Anyone think of ways to parlay Welsh literature into EU/corporate funding? I'm presenting on an untranslated 19th century Welsh clergyman and academic today. Try to restrain your excitement…

Monkey!

In my haste to depart the office, I forgot to wish you all a good holiday. I'm having a day off tomorrow, going to see a Sheela-na-gig on a Herefordshire church with some pals. Then on Saturday it's back to the bosom of my family to restart some old arguments and eat too much while I mark. I won't abandon Plashing Vole completely but may actually get some fresh air.

Tonight, I saw my colleagues and friends Ben and Frank, and with Hilary - an escaped colleague and friend - we got ourselves a little culture by seeing 3 Monkeys, a beautiful, sombre, Turkish film, at The Lighthouse, Wolverhampton's best arthouse cinema (only arthouse cinema). It's a mix of Eugene O'Neill, Strindberg, Ibsen and Pinter - with perhaps a bit of Huis Clos thrown in for good measure. The photography and pacing are stunning - and for the rest of you, there's a gangster, a murder and some trains.