London had its first "proper" snow of the 2012/13 winter season todayRead More
Today was a real humdinger of a day. Starting out with the French pissing me off. You schedule an afternoon meeting, and they call your office at 10.30am to say they will be there in 15 minutes. Bloody typical arrogant (insert racist or nationalist stereotypes here)... so well, I couldn't get there in time because I had a band staying and a passport to renew and well.. you know, I couldn't be arsed. It's okay though, my fearless colleague handled it for me.
Then the letter from Flynn... see last entry.
Then, work. Busy, of course. Yesterday's craziness was, thankfully, put to rest, so I was in a pretty positive mood. (Never mind that the Rover just stopped in the middle of Wightman Road today on the way to the office. Just plain stopped. The B-52's "Devil In My Car" was playing ((and I was singing very loudly, and badly)) when it happened. Spooky coincidence? No, I think just a temperamental electrical system. I put the hazards on, got out, popped the hood, fiddled with a few wires and was off on my way again. I always feel so proud of myself, particularly when I am wearing a halter top and sparkly kitten-heeled sandals, grappling with The Beast and winning. There was a street sweeper stood next to me on the sidewalk, smiling in wonderment.) And at work... well, still not focusing on things as much as I'd like, but... getting there. I accomplished quite a few things today and felt pretty satisfied with myself.
It was supposed to be storming today. Well, the usually reliable BBC weather site said that it was going to be stormy. (Another bit of my insanity : I look at the 5 day forecast, in Fahrenheit, because I still don't get Celsius. Anyway, the 5-day said thundery storms today. So I clicked on the 24 hour forecast, and it said it was going to be sunny all day. Do you know what I did? I wrote to the BBC and complained. It's an American thing, I guess. Or maybe it's just a crazy old woman thing.) Anyone who has read my blogs, or stood next to me in a thunder storm, knows the effect they have on me. I was kind of antsy all day in anticipation. Then someone whispered some absolute filth in my ear during the afternoon. Shocking. I was paralyzed. You know, in a good way. It took me a good 30 minutes to regain my composure.
Towards the end of the day, one of my Flickr chums drove me into a wild state of hamburger desire, and I had to go to the supermarket to get the fixin's. Just as I was leaving the market, the sky was starting to darken and rumbles of thunder could be heard in the distance. Ooooh! Tantalizingly, the storm actually took ages to arrive, finally breaking an hour or so later when I was in the kitchen preparing my burger. I had the back door open and there was all this fantastically loud thunder and brilliant lightning, and heaps of water pounding down. I was driven into such a frenzy by the storm and the impending burger than I actually burnt three of the four buns under the grill while trying to get it together. I kept getting drawn onto the back step and, well, I just lost it a bit, okay?
Finally the burger was ready, and it was a glorious, two-fisted, gob-full of a messy meat orgy, too. Quenched all my burger longings. I put some pictures up on Flickr or course, because I am part of an international network of crazy people who take pictures of food.
So, it's been quite the senses-overload type of day. I'm quite exhausted by it all. You know, in a good way. I think I'll crawl into bed, and hopefully I'll have a tasty dream about Jean Reno in a Batman suit.....
On Sunday it was very hot and sunny in London, about 85F, and I had to wait for a friend arriving from the States. I sat in the scorching sun drinking rum smoothies. (Pineapple, coconut & banana juice, lots of ice, lots of rum, and a scoop of ice cream - whizz in the blender, pour over ice. Instant cool bliss.)
My friend's flight was delayed so by the time she got here I was a bit tipsy. Poor thing, while I was sitting getting tanned and tanked, she was having a transportation nightmare from Heathrow. The Express trains weren't running, so she had to get the Piccadilly line into town - all 400 stops. Half way there she got sick and threw up on the tube! Then she fell backwards down the escalator at Kings Cross. And then she was sick in the taxi. I put her to bed immediately.
Later we got up and went to see William Whitmore play in Brixton at the Windmill. I drank a bunch of cider and got drunk and belligerent. All my photos turned out crap.
I felt terrible this morning but a brunch at Banner's nearly sorted me out. Omlette with sun-dried tomatoes, mozzarella and basil, and Banner's potatoes. It's good to feel human again.