Sleepy Girl

Bbq
I’m double shifting on Spoony and Vernon this weekend and with 80 minutes to go, I’m tired, tired, tired. My future tiredness wasn’t helped by being ill on Friday too after some dodgy food on the Camden Crawl.

It’s always like this when I’m on breakfast. Work starts at 6, so I roll out of bed at 530 just in time for my 540 cab. Today though with 2 days of double shifts the tiredness has well and truly hit and I feel rough as a dog. Normally I’m home by 11 and go to sleep for a couple of hours. Yesterday I was in at 2 and slept til 6 which wasn’t too bad, before we trialed our brand new BBQ and watched trashy TV as well as my recording of the brand new Popworld.

Now, even though we’re playing the ace K-Klass – Rhythm is A Mystery I cannot wait for my bed!

Dreadful Awful Rubbish : My friend Simon

Simon3On Sunday, our friend, Simon died unexpectedly, an hour or two after we last saw him.

I’m not going to go on about how he changed the landscape of clubbing and life for so many people. You can read that in other places. I want to remember my friend Simon, the guy who wasn’t just our boss, but a man we respected, a man we cherished, a man we loved and pretty much over the last 6 months, the centre of our universe.

I started going to Popstarz soon after moving to London in around September 2004. James and I always noticed this tall, omnipresent guy with black hair who was obviously involved in the club in someway. He was constantly there, and we found him quite a scary, foreboding prescence.

Roll forward and it’s May 2005. James & I arrive back from New York and head in a deleriously jetlagged state to Miss-Shapes at Ghetto, run by the same man. We see a poster saying there will be auditions for a DJ for the club and I’m straight on the case. We applied, headed down to Trash Palace to do a set and got the gig, all while nervously speaking to this guy we now know is Simon. He compliments us on our set, gives us some drink vouchers, and later not so subtly hints that the job is ours, though he’ll have to confirm that with Sandra. James and I look at each other amazed that this guy is even talking to us.

And that was that. Suddenly we were thrust into the spotlight, and into the world I fondly called The Hobart Empire. We were living out some of our dreams, DJing in a place we loved, meeting fantastic people and getting us and our friends into Popstarz for free. How cool was that!

We spent the next 6 months getting to know him. Both of us still in awe of him, but wondering how on earth we ever found him scary. He was so generous, letting us in everywhere for free, plying us with free drinks, and talking to us, telling us his fabulous stories of days gone by.

It was probably in the last 2 months, as he and J became closer, that I got to really know him and he changed from being the awe-inducing Simon Hobart, to being our friend Simon, Suddenly I was playing cupid, determined that these two great guys should be together. I helped J pick nice restaurants and filled Simon in on Js’ quirks and eccentricities.

Going to Ghetto was something I knew I could always do happily, even by myself. A few weeks ago I showed up after another party by myself at 1 in the morning knowing that inside I’d be able to enjoy myself even if I didn’t know anyone there. But I did, Simon of course was there, and we drunkedly spent the next 3 hours drinking and gossiping. It was great fun, and a far cry away from my fear of the immortal gothic prince that we used to see from afar. Similarly I could show up at Trash Palace, hook up with Simon and then head to Ghetto with him where we’d buy each other drinks and have a good gossip. In the last month or so, we were pretty much a regular feature at Ghetto from Wednesday til Saturday and we certainly wouldn’t have been there that much if Simon hadn’t been there.

And so to the final night. After having been out all day, James & I eventually rocked up to Ghetto at 12.45 just in time for Simon’s set at 1am. We greeted, we danced and then at about 3, we left. I told him to call me when he woke up about DJing on Sunday, and kissed him goodbye. And that was that.

I feel a bit embarassed at myself. Last night a group of his friends all got together and went out. There are people who have known him forever and there I am bursting into tears every two minutes. Perhaps I’m just not very good at coping with grief and being strong, but I do need to be strong for everyone else,.

I feel so sad and devastated. It doesn’t feel real, we showed up to DJ, made a phone call and got this terrible news. I can’t imagine walking down those stairs at Ghetto and him not being at the bottom. I can’t imagine going into Popstarz and looking forward to seeing him at the first bar and realising he’s not there and never will be. I’m just walking round my flat crying in a permanent state of disbelief. We walked from Wardour Street up to Falconberg Court when we got the news, and walking down Old Compton it felt like the world should stop. Why are there people walking round doing their usual business. It felt like Soho should be still.

I, like a lot of people, loved that man, and it’s near impossible to describe how great he was to people who didn’t know him. He was funny, intelligent, inspiring, handsome and kind.

He was so important to the way we operated that it’s even more impossible to imagine how our world can carry on without him.

Simon, please come back. I miss you.

Self Indulgent Guff

This weekend I went back with the best friend to the motherland to have fun, frolics and visit the family.

Every time I go back it becomes more and more apparnant that there is very little reason to go back. I’ve taking a different path in life from those who are still there and it’s very apparant when hooking up with old friends that we just have nothing in common anymore.

Once upon a time, I couldn’t even imagine myself leaving my hometown and the clubs and the fun behind, but now I can’t imagine any reason for being there.

Current life is, to be overly enthusiasic, just *fabulous* and I have both the best friend a girl could ever wish for and other excellent friends surrounding me.

Wow, this is sounding like the kind of super indulgent guff that I hate so much from one blogger (i’ll spare the link), but to that, all I say is BOSH BOSH BOSH, Pigeon!, BELGOROBOT SAYS XXXX, *tear.