Category Archives: November 2014

Long Way Home

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I love this crazy ass town that is London. It’s the place I live, it’s the place I love and it’s the place I can’t imagine moving away from. I stumble out of a soho salsa club gasping for air ~ what a night. Seriously what a night! I’ve been grabbed, groped and ground into, but now I can’t breathe and I’m heading home. It’s only just gone midnight, but I’m done for, royally.

Eventually I find my way to Piccadilly ~ it’s busy as hell even though it’s after midnight ~ it’s bustling, the lights are great, I take a few pics, cause they’re great … I miss the last tube. So I start the walk home. I’m hoping not all the way, a taxi is unlikely, but I know where the bus goes from … Just all the way up Regent Street and along Oxford street. Please let there be a taxi, please, there isn’t.

If I were to write a list of why I loved London it would be long almost endless, but one of them is this… It’s gone midnight, yet I feel safe walking alone in these streets. There are hundreds, probably thousands of us just finding our way home. And most of us are in good cheer … except for those guys having a fight ..!

The Christmas lights are shining in all their reserved glory ~ they’re not ostentatious, they’re quietly magnificent as I’m plodding up Regent Street … in the middle of the road taking pics ~ I’m not the only one. Still no taxi. Maybe the Victoria line is still running.

Just as I get there the announcement comes. “All trains have left” … essentially you’re fucked!

I eye a rickshaw and contemplate a 5mile journey home in *that* … I keep walking ~ slowly heading towards Centrepoint and the bus that’ll take me on the first leg of the way home. Oh god!

Trundle trundle … my cheer is, I admit waning, but despite being late November it’s not that cold. The splatter of vomit hitting the pavement emanates behind me, I don’t need to look to know ~ best to keep walking, onwards, past the wolf whistlers [*smiles*]. A ten minute pause to source a Hailo cab was ridiculously futile. Onwards. I’ve started to write this blog post in my head ~ my feet are killing … but at least I still have shoes …

McDONALDS!! After a brief pit stop I’m furnished with a McNuggets meal ~ a drunken meal of champions! (McNuggets always remind me of my brother) I’ve walked seven sides of a triangle but I’m finally here, at the bus stop at the bottom of Tottenham Court Road … And then I see it, glowing orange down a side street. A. Taxi!

I wave my drink at him, he stops! “Crouch End via a cash machine” the immortal words … He sighs the longest sigh, knowing his night is now over and says “Yes” with deep regret. I profess my love and with skirt above the gusset line, I clamber into the taxi and we’re off!

Cash machine! “I’ve put my drink on the floor, don’t drive off” “what is it?” “Tango” “I’m definitely driving off, you’ve been Tango’d!” … Hilarious. It’s Fanta I remember, I say nothing.

Finally 90mins after I set off, I’m home. And Bed.

Left Side Hairier

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It’s the weekend after payday, which means it’s time to have these bad-boy eyebrows done, threaded. I’m not remotely hairy, so bad-boy really should replaced with lame-excuses-for, but I digress.

Settling down in the chair, I assume the position ~ pin eyelid down, stretch out brow.

“You’re hairier on the left side.”
“Sorry, what?”
“You’re hairier on the left side, everyone is.”
“Are they?”
“Yes, everyone is hairier on the left, I observed this.”
“Really??”
“And they have drier skin on their left side too, you should check when you get home.”
“Seriously??”
“And your boobs,” I’m expecting her to declare a woman’s left breast is hairier, but she doesn’t, “most people’s left boob is bigger.”
Then she looks down her top
“Yes bigger”

We’re roaring with laughter. I look in the mirror to inspect my eyebrows, yep, left side hairier.

Two Books – Two Shit Endings

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I have spent the last 2.5 years reading Game of Thrones – all of the five in-print full books. I am admittedly a slow reader by anyone’s definition. They are not easy books to read. Not books that compel you to read endlessly. The books have annoyed me intensely to the point that I have thrown them across the room. They have made me livid. But I have persevered through the 1,000+ pages of each one, and got to the end of Book 5 … not the last book, there are two more still to be written, if George R.R. Martin lives that long.

I wont put spoilers here for anyone who is watching the series or reading … but every time I bought into a character, they were killed off. Endless new characters were added. Each chapter started the same way with a slow-burn of what was happening around the character and in the last 2 or 3 pages of the chapter, finally fi-na-ly he would get to the damn point. Aaaand just as that character was getting interesting the chapter would end and you’d start the hard slog again. And it was a hard slog.

But I had to persevere, I had to know how it ended, I needed to know who was going to save the day … not *that* person because they got killed with two chapters to go! The. Fuck!!

Moreover the final chapter ended with “and that’s how Khal Jhaqo found her” … what?? That’s it??!! That’s all there is?? Two and a half years invested for *that*! *throws book in the air and walks off*!!

So I needed a new book, I needed a good book, I asked for recommendations – several people recommended “Gone Girl” – people had raved about it and so I read ..

Gone Girl was a great book, a fabulous book, note the past-tense … right up until the last page, when it just ended with “I don’t have anything else to add. I just wanted to make sure I had the last work. I think I’ve earned that”

Are you f’ing joking – what the absolute ??

It’s like the Gillian Flynn, tho author, just didn’t know how to bring it to a conclusion – a shoddy ending to an excellent book.

Can anyone recommend a GOOD book?

Esher [Inspired] T-Shirt

IMG_1610.JPGI went out for lunch today with a work colleague to Leon in the heart of Spitalfields Market. I’ve walked through it many times, but never stopped to browse. Market = Tat, right? Apparently wrong, quite wrong indeed.

There are loads of really lovely stalls selling pictures, hats and one selling t-shirts printed with artwork ~ an homage to different artists.

I’ve always admired Esher’s work, I wouldn’t say that he was in my top 10 artists, the mind involved in creating this work must incredible. This T-Shirt just intrigued me, the intricacies, wow! I couldn’t walk away from it, believe me I kept trying, but I just kept coming back to it. Bought. And it comes with an A4 print of the design too! Sweet.

Stressed

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I am currently stressed, inexplicably so. Work is ok. Relationship is non existent so it can’t be that, yet through the top of my chest is pressure, in my shoulders, tension ~ you could break concrete over them. I physically can’t relax either of them. Breathing is laboured. Why? Not a clue, not a scooby-do.

If I move my arms it’s better, but I can’t walk down the street wafting my arms like the woman from Tales of the Unexpected, or wanging them around as though I’m a swimmer on the starting blocks ~ in my flat, fine – but as soon as I stop it, tension, stress, back! What is going on? It’s been two days. I think I’m now getting stressed about being stressed – until I right-myself (somehow), I’m going to shrug, waft and wang it out.

Welcome Drinks

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Since I joined my new company in May 14 more people have joined. It seems like every week there’s another addition, another shake of a hand, another finance intro presentation to give. We’ve even set up in New York

Tonight we went out for drinks for the latest addition to the tech team to the atrium in Devonshire Square. Nice setting but freezing, in the words of Game of Thrones, Winter’s coming.