Because blimey, I think I’ve lost it. I can’t crack a joke these days if my life depends on it.
Other than that, I am not doing much. Roaming a house too big for one person. That’s when I am not lounging in the bestest bed I have ever been in and I am including here some very comfy hotel beds that I will never forget. Is it very very wrong if I take the bed with me when I leave? (I am house sitting, by the way).
On Friday night I was out and about London. I had a small glass of wine, outrageously expensive (£10,35) in an over crowded place that raised my anxiety through the roof. Crowds are bad when you are 1,55 meters and you don’t wear high heels. I like tall men and when I am out in a busy place like the one I’ve been to on Friday, I come to terms with myself and decide I shouldn’t feel miserable that tall men almost never notice me. Instead, I should be happy that tall men never step on me by mistake. (I am that small).
Anyways, once I finished my very expensive small glass of not a very good white wine, I was off to Carnaby Street for some beer on the pavement. Few sips later, I was completely tipsy. Because yeah, I forgot to tell you, I sort of quit drinking. I like the feeling of not having alcohol racing through my blood, but then, when I sometimes go out TO a posh place and they charge me £6 for a soda water I feel robed. For God’s sake, it’s bubble water! And, to calm down, I tell to my self: “At least I am hydrated, at least I am hydrated, at least I am hydrated…” until the words lose meaning and the memory of me paying £6 for bubble water becomes distant (it never does, but at least I am hydrated).
On Saturday I was too cold to enjoy the Jazz Festival at Canary Wharf and the skyscrapers in Canada Square made me nostalgic about Toronto. Those were the days, my friend…Then we went to Greenwich and we took a stroll in a tunnel which seemed to never end and apparently we were like 18 meters under the Thames and I was worried about all the light bulbs under there, because you know, electricity and water are not good friends and then I realized we were cooler than Jesus because Jesus only managed to walk on water while we were walking under water. And then we went to Camden.
What I did on Sunday cannot be mentioned on the blog just ‘coz my future kids might read it and I don’t want to give them another reason to be embarrassed by their naughty mummy. They’ll have plenty, anyway. In fact, they already have some and they are not even born yet. Naughty mummy should calm down. Eventually.
Yesterday I decided I was feeling a bit “not very well” so yeah, I took advantage of the above mentioned bed, mostly snoozing and reading and snoozing and reading. Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides is a masterpiece. I will devour his other two novels soon. And he has made it in the very short list of my very favourite writers. Well done, Mr. Eugenides!
Today I feel very ‘academic’, as my muses seem to be back from wherever they were partying hard so I will be writing all day long. The cherry on the top will be a well deserved hot yoga session for which I am badly badly craving and not because I feel stiff but because I feel cold. Summer is gone from London but the three weeks of it are unforgettable.
Have you liked my Facebook page, by the way?