I'd like to take you back, if you'll allow me. Harold Shipman is the talk of the news - a Dr gone bad, off the rails, and turned evil. The Millennium Dome's future is in turmoil, and we all moan what a waste of cash it was - to all one day pay through the roof for tickets to see our favourite band whilst squinting. (FYI - I still say the Spice Girls could've been 5 men in drag I was sat so far away). We had all survived the turn of the century, and computers were all fine - but Internet was fucking slow as standard. Britney Did It Again, and launched her schoolgirl self to the world, with a full head of hair, and sexy innocence. Billie Piper; Geri Halliwell; and S Club were all also hitting out number ones (bad year for the music). American Beauty swept 5 awards at the Oscars. The Olympics reached Sydney, and we can only dream of having the same honour here in the UK. The Playstation 2 is launched - and a wee was something we did, not played on. Bill Clinton hasn't yet had "sexual relations" (or not) with any women other than Hilary that we know of. The International Year Of The Culture Of Peace. The year a three day summit is held in Kuala Lumpur for al-Queda - in attendance 2 of the future hijackers of 9/11. The year is 2000, and LD is the ripe old age of 21, and life is very different....For one, I am in the process of getting my first ever 10 year passport.
Back then, I really thought that I had it sussed, and was funky, forward thinking and with it. I had a dump of a basement flat in London, in an area that was so crummy, we had a metal shutter like you get on shops, as a part of our front door. We paid no council tax, as the place was illegal, and a health hazard to boot. I worked in a job where I earned about £14k a year, and would rock up off my face on whatever had been on offer the night before. I was engaged, in a passionless relationship with a grumpy chef, who had a tendency to dry his socks in the microwave. The Cross was my favourite club, and I partied like a trooper with my best mate Tinkerbell. This snapshot looks back on me every time I travel. The short haired, pale skinned (no fake bake in them days girls) 21 year old has haunted me and made passport control laugh ever since. And the fact I look slightly like Myra Hindley has caused some issues too. Until now. It has finally expired, and I can start a fresh! No more Myra! (I'd like to add I haven't learnt my lesson - I got my hair dyed bright red the day before my passport pics - doh!)
Anyway my point is that if you asked me where I'd be in 10 years time when I was getting those god awful passport pics done, I'd have said the following.....Married. Two children at least. A husband who works whilst I look after the house, and maybe have a part time job. A 4x4 in the drive, and a dog. Happy, healthy and well off, we'd holiday in the Med for a short Summer break, and maybe further a field for special occasions. And where am I? Living with the folks due to crippling debts (nearly there on that front); single; doing the same job more or less, than 10 years ago (albeit paid a hell of a lot more than back then). But, life is good, because I can now re-think where I want to be in 10yrs time, and focus on the new goals. My mate Kaz and I had this discussion the other night, and she came up with my future, and I came up with hers...so here we are - when I am next changing my passport pics again, I will be....(in Kaz's view)...
Living - apparently in Chinner. Not sure why Kaz chose this as a location, but I think she was trying to be middle class. My house will be Edwardian, and very tasteful. 5 bedrooms, a indoor pool and a tennis court (OK, I've added these bits) Up to this point I was very happy with the future LD, but she'd just got going...
....Married to a Greek called Bavros Theodopolopodos. And my good friends like Kaz, (who I will get back in a moment), will annoyingly refer to him as Barry - as if Bavros wasn't bad enough. So I am Mrs Lady Danger Theodopolopodos. Bavros will be a buyer and seller of yachts, and I will meet him in Dubai. Dubai is where the lovely Kaz will be living, and I will be staying on her yacht. Kaz has had to take on lovers (plural), as she foolishly married a gay Aussie - the pet Pug called Bruce should've made her realise he was more Martha than Arthur and in denial.She has since become a Barbara Cartland type figure in Dubai and has a merry band of young lovers, who she helps integrate into the social scene (and her bed). I have gone to help pick up the pieces after one such young man spurned her advances, for those of a Armenian go-go dancer.
...So we meet, Bavros is selling a multi million pound yacht to a Arab Prince, and Kaz introduces us at one of her functions. Distracted by her gay husbands amorous advances to his new male secretary, I am left talking to Bavros, and despite the fact I find his name stupid (and I'm namest); and hate hairy men (a general Greek affliction), we fall in love...
...Our lovely house in Chinner is one of a few we have scattered round the world - the others are mainly used for Bavros's work. I am always secretly concerned that he is on first name terms with a few of the worlds dodgier leaders, and have a niggle he isn't just selling yachts. But this isn't literally Birds Of A Feather (I figured where the surname came from thanks Kaz-meister), so there is no trips to jail. Our house is busy as I fill it with pets...and children....
...Two cats, one called Puss Cat Theodopolopodos 1st; and Lolita. We also have two dogs, Westwood the Westie and Marlborough Light, a retriever...
...Children have been a blessing, and I have two boys (really??). One is Bavros Junior and at 6 years old (I get knocked up quickly) is already showing a taste for business like his father, and trading whatever he can at school. (Until he steals and trades the Head Masters car keys for a bottle of bleach with the school janitor. This leads to a police call out by the head and a very stern pow-wow with the parents of a fellow pupil who is sporting bleach blond highlights. I'm mad because he's broken the law. Bavros is mad because the highlights look quite good, and he is concerned he is showing an early flair for hair dressing. This is not the way he wants the first son to go). Aristotle, our baby, is showing to be a thinker already...I have high hopes he will be the brains of the outfit (in a non-criminal sense).
So there we have it - Kaz'z vision of my life flash forward in ten years....Married to a slightly dodgy yacht salesman from Greece, with stupidly names pets, and children. Hmmm, I'd like to say I don't believe her, but the way things turn out for me, I think my dream of being healthy, happy, and married to a man I love (who has a normal name and career) is more far fetched. Oh, and of course, I will have to have a random yet funky hair style in ten years time, that I will regret when I am 51 years old, getting my third passport. (Having divorced Bavros for crimes against names, and using some of the divorce money to set Bavros Junior up in his own salon, he will have given me the mad hair style I will be sporting. Partly to annoy his Father).
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