I did not, alas, end up Reclaiming The Night, despite good intentions, as I was invited to a last-minute double birthday tea for my siblings (which was very pleasant). My mathematically-minded dad, who next week plans to celebrate his 33.33r wedding anniversary, is delighted now to have a son who is aged 3³ in the same year that he himself is 4³. His niece is only 2³, and I'm sure he wishes there was a one-year-old and a 125-year-old in the family to continue the sequence.
Otherwise, have been dealing with the filthy weather, some stress at work and general exhaustion by watching DVDs and not going out much - although I was at a Leeds University do for meeja alumni in Soho this week.

Sunday out with Sarah at the weekend, picking up a couple of bargains at the Boden clearance sale (in a conference centre in Olympia, which was also hosting the much larger Erotica show down the road - much customer crossover I wonder?) then back to hers for roast dinner and Oklahoma!, continuing our series of cheesy Western musicals of the fifties.
Later, Casino Royale in the Ealing fleapit, and a day off work on Monday, spent out in London with my mum at the Wallace collection and St Paul's (left: we climbed up 500+ steps for the view from the dome).

I think I will go to Reclaim the Night this Saturday. Haven't been to such things for a few years, but I feel the need to show a bit of sisterly solidarity lately. As well as last week's salutary exposure to lads' mags, I've been feeling particularly incredulous at the press coverage of the rohypnol-versus-alcohol/date-rape story. The subtext seems to be: women who are drugged: innocent; women who are assaulted after they've had a few drinks: brought it on themselves. Never mind that the intoxicated can't give consent. Typical was The Times, who wrote "The message that women themselves may be responsible could be hard to accept." Er, hello? Responsible for what exactly? As Julie Bindel wrote, alcohol seems to be the new short skirt.

Good few days in Liverpool, fantastic Chinese meal at the Tai Pan (Chris had lobster, I had tofu and straw mushrooms, Nana had ribs and Gunny had duck pancakes), a look at the Anthony Gormley figures on Crosby beach while they're still there, a little light shopping. Travelled home squashed into a window table seat by three big lads who were off to Las Vegas via London - they seemed nice enough, but their train reading matter was wall-to-wall topless women (Daily Star, Nuts, Maxim) which made me feel not so much intimidated as depressed. They didn't seem particularly engaged or interested by the naked pictures either, just flicked through the pages and munched their burgers. I looked out of the window at the rain and listened to my iPod, feeling like a moody teenager. It must have been the combination of sexual discomfort and industrial music...
Home to M, then off to Bath again for an evening meeting. I went early and spent a couple of hours in the fantastically expensive new spa, splashing around in the pools and sitting in the steam rooms, wondering if it was doing me any good. I did get a splitting headache during the meeting, which my host confidently ascribed to "the toxins", but it could equally have been grumpiness at being charged £2.50 for the loan of a towel when I'd already paid £19 to get in.

I'm on the move this week. Yesterday I was in Aberdeen to give a guest seminar, and caught up with Carmen and Dom while I was there. Wonderful hospitality from Susan (art gallery, exciting lunch and company while trying on and buying boots) and from the family Watt, who gave me the use of an exceptionally comfy sofa bed, lovely dinner (Vic), a lift to the airport in the morning (Dom), an introduction to the hilarity of making of camel and elephant sandwiches with his wooden Noah's Ark game (Xander) and her least favourite black jelly babies (Flora). Today I'm off to Liverpool until after the weekend to visit Nana.

Ben and Spike came over to Ealing for fireworks and a (halal) roast dinner on Saturday, all very pleasant. Generally a bit sleepy and inclined to feelings of hibernation at the moment, owing to dark evenings, chillier weather, cramps, urge to watch DVDs from under a duvet, and the lure of the yarn-pile waiting to be turned into Christmas prezzies. However, this week I am away to Aberdeen and then Liverpool, so activity and extroversion is being forced upon me...