Nothing much...

We've mostly just been moping about today due to swine flu rearing its ugly head in our house. I trotted out and bought some medicinal Subway sangers for lunch. Then I made some pizzas for dinner, as the posh have it. Non-food activity included bits and pieces of short film-related gubbins and some minor scribblings, followed by X Factor and catching up with the fortunes of the NY Jets.

I like what the comedian and star of I Love Various Things - Andrew Collings, of Collings and Herrrin podcast fame - said re the current state of news on this week's effort: "If you look at the papers, the news isn't the news, the news is just what's been on telly the night before." Very true.

Wedding party...

Short rehearsal today in readiness for shooting short film next weekend. Got off to an inauspicious start when I got dropped off in town by M's dad, exited the car and watched it speed off up the road before realising that I'd left my bag with scripts inside the car. Caught up with the bag and, with some time to kill before meeting actors I opted to head to a hotel bar on the Marina - away from a city centre crawling with Hull City fans. Walked in as a bride and groom were having their photos taken, got past them without standing on the bride's dress and found myself in the bar with the rest of the wedding party. Liverpool and Man City were on plasma screen, the second half, I thought, just kicking off. I turned to the man next to me and asked if the first half had been any good. He looked at me with a puzzled and rather scared expression - no doubt wondering which side of the family I was from - and said "ok". It was only much later in the day that I realised I had actually been watching the first half. I left before the speeches. Although I feared the worst after all that, rehearsals went very well.

My so-called vision...

Pretty much opted out of spending the evening tweeeting sarcastically about Children in Need (or #bbccin) in favour of planning for the expensive filmmaking hobby that I have and adding to the reams of paper that exist in the folder marked 'Single Span'. Hopefully by the shoot next weekend I will be able to articulate my so-called vision.

Lights...

X Factor 'star' Rhydian turned on the Christmas lights in Hull tonight. As far as I'm aware he replaced soul singer Beverley Knight, who was lined up for switch-throwing duties. Although, given recent events in the Midlands, it's probably better to give the job to someone who won't attract a massive audience. As I walked through the growing crowds early this evening I noticed, yet again, that the German Market was being mostly ignored. I'm sure it picked up when Rhydian took the mic and people decided to seek out something a little bit more appealing. Bah, humbug!

Overheard on the bus...

"He's getting me one of those new phones for our anniversary."

"What type of phone?"

"He's borrowed the money. From Credit Union."

"Yeah, Credit Union. You can never get into debt with Credit Union. Even if you borrow, like, 500 quid from them."

"It's one of those just out November phones that were out this month. It does everything. You wanna know how much my bill was last month? F**king hundreds. He said, for your birthday, you can have a new phone or you can have the new PSP3. I'll give you the other one for our anniversary. I'm real excited. Anyway, there's no way that the apple closed her eye."

"What apple?"

"School phoned me. Today. You've got to come pick her up. There's been an accident. She's partially blind. My little lass. I said, there's no way that's a f**king accident. You've blinded her with an apple? The only way you can blind someone with an apple is to throw it at short range with force. That's not an accident. She's partially blind now. Wait 'til I get to the school."

"Did you see Hull City playing Italy on Sky?"

"Yeah. I watched summat on Sky. It was a draw."

"They lost."

"It was a draw. 2-2. They were playing Fulham. Or was it West Ham? It wasn't Italy. I don't know, I don't even like football. Can you phone the school and talk to that teacher now? Tell them it wasn't a f**king accident. How can you blind someone with an apple?"

Extrawurst...

There is currently a German Market in Hull city centre, part of the city's festive entertainment. I have heard a few people complaining, saying silly things like, "Why are they here? Is there a Hull market in Germany?" This suggests that Hull's markets are exportable. The all-year-round market that takes place twice a week not a million miles from our house is a notorious outlet for counterfeit goods and, on Sundays, is more of a car boot sale than a place to head for fresh foodstuffs. Germany would not want it. Last night, at around 6pm, as we were killing some time before heading to the cinema, myself and son Sam wandered around the visiting German Market. We were, aside from the German stallholders, the only people there. Which was a little strange but rather typical. I say hurrah for Extrawurst, Fleischwurst and juicy old Bierwursts. But, it would appear, I'm in the minority.

On the buses...

I've been sans car for a few weeks now. It is rather liberating and has reminded me that we don't need that shit that outside forces are always convincing us we do. Yet, as it gets colder, walking around the city has less and less appeal. So, tonight, I turned to public transport, specifically buses. Which, in this city, appear, on my scant experience, to be appallingly smelly and unreliable. Nobody in their right mind would choose to travel this way - such is the stench of urine that they're like a public (in)convenience on wheels. But there you go. Maybe I do need a car after all. Tonight, we went to the cinema, and watched inconsistent man-munching, splatter-happy, scare-flick Jennifer's Body. We were out of the cinema by 8.20pm - not late enough to think that there'd be any trouble hopping immediately on a bus home. I didn't realise how shockingly sparse buses were at that time of night. It's as if Hull had shut down. What's the deal, transport bosses? Rather than loiter in the loon-infested interchange (described, no doubt, in tourism literature as another 'jewel in the crown' for the city) until the bus came we hopped inside the Royal Station Hotel, where drinks are expensive and tables are frequented by bald men with Blackberries.