fabulous muscles*

*or mussels

I ran into my friend Suzy a few nights ago in Clerkenwell when we were both grabbing a drink and then decided to ditch our friends and go out to dinner. It wasn't so much a meal, rather a show and tell of public neuroses. Mine, for instance, and this one actually stems directly from my mother, is that I cannot have my back turned to a doorway or an open space. I have to sit strategically against a wall or with my back to another patron but never, ever, an open space. Chris is well aware of this and frankly, handled the situation quite cleverly. This however was news to Suzy and we had to change tables because whilst I wouldn't be sitting with my back towards the open, she can't sit beside columns or walls. She's an architect so virtually all buildings in London fall under 'badly designed' in her eyes. Essentially we were quite a pair that evening and when we finally got round to dinner, she was seated next to a large metal column, however that was alright because it didn't reverberate sound. Try the mussels at SOS in Clerkenwell, they're fantastic.

And I think I've over come my inner frustrations about writing and have actually utilised them to better myself and the situation. I had an insanely honest conversation with Chris were I spilled the beans on my preoccupation with his 'tour de force' altruistic yet objection criticism (purely hypothetical, he's barely seen anything yet). Writing is my thing. Reading and critiquing is his. And when you're exposing and reeling, and not in this tra la la way, it can hinder confidence. But we've mapped it all out now, both figuratively and literally so we're back on track. Mind akimbo.