Paul in London

In amongst the domesticated shopping for bits and pieces today I did manage to stop by and say hi to Barbara Cook in Dress Circle today (or at least get her autograph). Since Dress Circle is such a temple for devotees of musical theatre it was very nice to see her stop by. I didn't buy her latest album which is a tribute to her long-time accompanist and collaborator Wally Harper (I saw them both in concert in 2004 but he passed away last year) but an earlier album. but most importantly I did get her autograph. A asked whether my life was complete as a Barbara Cook groupie and I had to think about that for a minute, but she is one of the great cabaret performers of our time. Oh and to just mix it up a little I also went to Trax Records in Soho and picked up Wayne G's version of "I just wanna fucking dance". The song was originally from "Jerry Springer the Opera" and was the highlight of the show. It was recorded over a year and a half ago by Alison Jier w

Celebrity Big Brother finished tonight with the winner being the only non-celebrity in the house. The choice of winner was easy really since she was the only slightly human person in the freakshow of has-beens desperately trying to kick-start their careers that were assembled in the house. Still the highlight of the series will be the participation from rabid loony left-wing politician George Galloway. While in the Big Brother house he impersonated a pussy, danced around in a red leotard and basically showed he was a bit of a slimeball. It was fantastic act of political suicide and at last evidence that reality television is a force for good in the world. George says he has no regrets about his involvement in the show, but already this week cat food has been delivered to his house and office twice. Unless he was setting himself up for a career in Puss in Boots in the Christmas Pantomimes it would have to be one of the great political miscalculations of the year.

I caught Brokeback Mountain this evening. Like so many others I had been referring to the film as Bareback Mountain and I was quite surprised that within the first hour of the film it lived up to its name… By this point the film seemed to be more about that category of men that exists who identify as straight but just have sex with men – MSNs on the Wyoming mountains is probably not the best place to have safe sex outreach workers – particularly given all the bears that exist there. Anyway over the next two hours the story does get a little more involved, but it is more about what is not spoken that really starts making you wonder about the characters… The film has been doing well here in London, and it is probably more to do more with how well the story is told rather than its subject matter. But surely it should also serve as a cautionary tale to wives who let their husbands go to Wyoming to fish on long weekends?

Scenes from Clapham Common Tube Sunday 15:24. I have moved to SW4 and it is cold... Just another January really... 

Scenes from the London Art Fair, Islington Saturday 16:05. When moving, one should always break up the monotony of the move with something else. The Art Fair was on in London and apart from whale watching on the Thames, it seemed to be the thing to do... 

Scenes from the Royal Opera House Friday 19:23 - Just before curtain up on Smetana's "The Bartered Bride" one had to finish the champagne. A great production with an excellent English translation. Although the set was a bit plain looking there were dancing bears and fire juggling to brighten it up a bit... 

On Thursday evening I had the opportunity to see the Sam Shepard play The Late Henry Moss at the Almeida Theatre. The first thing you notice about this production is what a fantastic set it is. It is probably the best stage I have seen since seeing Two Thousand Years at the National Theatre. There was so much detail in it that it was fascinating to look at even before the actors walked on stage. The story of the play is two sons who come back to New Mexico to find their alcoholic father dead. But it really isn't the plot that makes the play so interesting, but the dialogue and interplay between the brothers and the locals who last saw their father alive. The acting was naturally terrific and the play unfolded like a good family domestic. After the first half however those around me weren't sure the play was their cup of tea, but during the second half I took a glance at the rest of the audience, and it was clear people were sitting on the edge of their seats hanging on to ever

Scenes from a creepy London flat. One of the things that happens when you sign up to various websites offering flatshares is that people email you photos of hideous rooms like this one. It was in N4 and it looks like bathroom tiles covered in gold paint with Ikea blue lights and grandma's old bed (with perhaps her sheets too). Incidentally as I was in Australia for two months some people have noted that I had flattened my vowells considerably. So much so that when I was talking about gayshare they thought I was saying geisha. I said to them not to worry, I was working on my novel Memoirs of a Gayshare .

I think it may be all sorted now, but this weekend I have been auditioning for a place to live. It is such a beauty contest where you have to show that you have personality yet are considerate in about half an hour. By Sunday I was over it. For various reasons (and much to the horror of some northern friends) I have decided to go for "sarf London" rather than "noorf London". I don't get this divide based on the Thames. I have seen rubbish on either side of the Thames so I think it is all a bit silly. Anyway, I did have the opportunity to live in the north but decided against it. There were two reasons: price and the most hideous shocking bathroom I have ever seen. It was a tough decision I could have lived in zone one near Kings Cross Station (an area Time Out recently described as "up and coming" so that counts for something surely) overlooking Regent's Canal. It was very quiet and not bad looking for a semi-industrial-ripe-for-regeneration area.

I had the chance to catch three hours of Ibsen yesterday – Pillars of the Community – at the National Theatre . It was a fantastic new translation, but A thought I was only interested in it because Lesley Manville who plays Lona Hessel wears some fantastic costumes and at the end is wearing a red dress surrounded by heavy rainfall. And it wasn't me who started jumping up and down in his seat (as much as one can do this in fourth row centre) when the dishy hero walked in… Anyway it was engaging stuff. Later when we went to pick up our things at the cloakroom… Paul (handing the attendant the number): There are two coats and a bag… A (to the attendant): Actually there are just two coats. He is the bag.