fatty

I'm so where I want to be right now. In bed. Wearing an over-sized man's Christian Dior shirt circa '83. With stripes. In my underwear. Under the blankets because it's not scorching hot in London. And I'm alone which is slightly sad...but kind of nice (sorry Chris have a lovely time in B'ham with your dog and your parents!)

So I buggered up my life about three weeks ago. I then tried to fix it about two weeks ago. I then tried to fix about five days ago. And now it's fixed...mostly. Well we'll see.

I've also done a good amount of shopping in the past two days but yesterday can be blamed on the two car bombs found and me not being able to get home. I was stuck in Oxford circus so I turned lemons into lemonade. I would have gone for a drink alone when my diverted bus said that it wasn't going to move for at least 25 minutes but I thought that ultimately leads to alcoholism so I decided to spend my money on tangible objects that will hopefully give me more pleasure than a glass of cold white. Materialism is ok when traffic isn't moving.

I'm also living the high life working in PR. We had the MAC VIva Glam party with Dita von Teese on Wednesday and she rode a giant bucking lipstick. She's stunning in real life and shorter than I am. She's lovely and demure and although I thought her show was playing more to the camera than to the live audience, she does have the best breasts I've ever seen. And then Steve Tyler walked by, dude definitely looks like a lady. Chris pointed out to me that it was him and I couldn't see because I thought he was woman. Or it could have been the four glasses of champagne on an empty stomach that caused this womanly apparition. (Seriously though, I'm not an alcoholic, I just need it to get over the dignity I have to schmooze and say DARLING in that voice you need to say it in, it's compartmentalization, not irony).

So for the rest of the weekend? I'm doing absolutely nothing. And maybe cleaning my room.

Absinthe

No we didn't attend some sex club, or get backstage at an absurdist playhouse. This is Stevie's backroom, which was lit red and thus made us all look like some seedy, bottom dwellers, lurking around for casual sex or perhaps some assault. It was, despite the way I just depicted everything, a massively low key evening (for 5 St. Philip's way et al, perhaps not for Stevie and her crew). I dressed like Pochahantas and the boys being cowboys arrived in Manor House with a drunken greeting unparalleled. But Chris, Tet and I were hungry and went to eat which was ultimately the kiss of death because before eating, I was having a lovely time sipping from a pint glass of absinthe and reeling from Dragon Stout (it's alcoholic, it tastes like chocolate, could I ask for more? sidenote being maybe mint chocolate baileys?). But after our lovely Turkish meal, I was very relaxed and enjoyed the moody atmosphere and am thankful today because I don't feel suicidal.

And tomorrow I am going to book a holiday to bring the lil' Brit Chris home to Canadia for a short visit. That won't be until September which will be a year since I left. I find it very hard to believe I've been gone a year almost.

I have loads more to think/say but I'll get down to that later.

Nuclear

Draaaag it did not. In fact today was quite fun. Stevie has left Mission and I'm filling her boots. At least I"ll still see her all the time. She's a treasure!!

My favourite Pez is staying over tonight. And as is the custom, he'll be sleeping on our floor. No literally. Chris' and my bedroom floor. He's like a scared little child needing to be near his mummy and daddy. Nothing was weirder than the time we threes-ed up on New Year's Day like a couple in our bras and underwear*. It was a brief moment in time, but a treasured one.

It's the weekend and since I worked last weekend, I'm looking forward to nothing at all. Well bbq and watching Glasto (hahaha fuck it, Glastonbury) on television.

Tonight is chinese and and Pez. Tomorrow is bbq and Pez and Stevie and apparently absinthe, t.p. making, hanging reindeer from the ceiling, vodka, meat, and cowboys? (I'm still massively vague on the details but Stevie is dressing up as a Vaudevillian corseted dancer with a high-waisted skirt. It's suppose to rain tomorrow. I'm probably going to wear cons, or something like it...)

Green fairy? As long as it doesn't involve us ripping about poly-styrene tiles then we're fine. It's fine.

heart attack

Cheese! I'm having it served with tortellini tonight. Spinach and ricotta tortellini might I add.

This weekend I'm looking forward to a whole lot of nothing! I need a massive lie in and catch up on some reading. Everyone in the office is exhausted from working various events all weekend. Tomorrow however is going to drag and drag and draaaag...

But I'm attending a bbq at Stevie's which hopefully this time won't end in mass destruction and carcinogens (how does one spell that word?).

And ten years ago today, this little girl had her big bat mitzvah. I can't bloody well believe it. I so wish I had the money still. I can't even remember what I bought. Yup. No idea.

And speaking of, firsty pay check in one week. I've held off this long not going shopping, so I want to save to buy something really special. New Bond St. special!!

Daft Punk

I don't need to say anymore.

Last night was brilliant. And then a bunch of us went to Sloane Square to some posh club in a basement. I had a Mercedes take me home at 3:30am. I have to go to work at 2pm.

We walked in and someone bought two bottles of vodka for the 7 of us. It was intense. And when I came home, Suzy made me a cheeseburger.

Seriously a top night!!

Festive

I've been working 14 hour days the past two days, and am doing it all again today and tomorrow.

The advantage...I'm at 02 Wireless in Hyde Park working the 02 vip room. I'm a schmoozegasm (I'll bet Chris would use that term to describe me, but he's not here this weekend, he's left me in my hour of need to go home to Brum, but making a stop in Oxford to see old friends).

Today is the monster day at Wireless though, Daft Punk! I'm ridiculously psyched and LCD Soundsystem won't be that bad either. Yesterday I went to see Badly Drawn Boy (he still chokes me up, but makes me laugh i.e. he's an absolute bean and in fact, him and I were hanging around on Thursday both trying to get in, we shared a moment). And Faithless played, but I'm not that fussed, however Kelis! Yes! But Milkshake is a bit outdated and she didn't play Bossy (at least not that I heard).

I must sound like such a twat!

Kirsten Dunst is coming today. For those who know me, this is funny.

Steamy

You know things are hot at work when you have to take your jeans off (and keep them off!) in the toilet.

The moral of the story is shave your legs everyday. Even though I don't.

We're having chicken for dinner. I love a dirty bird.

And some bank teller told me he liked my accent today. That's a bit awkward.

Post

Yup. Pretty. Tasty.

And we had angel cake for dessert.

Now I'm going to bed.

Prawns

I'm absolutely starving. But dinner is now served. Spaghetti (posh skinny spaghetti but not exactly angel hair) with tomato, prawns, garlic and parsley. I'm so psyched.

If you could smell it...

Royal

I'm having my feet rubbed whilst I'm in a deep think. It's my idea of paradise. Minus my headache which is yet again white wine induced. But I had a super fun night out with my bloke (this is only funny to him and I). Soho in the summer. But then it turned into our non-offensive night out in Angel at the Old Kings Head, opposite the Old Queens Old where it's the most eclectic group of people, mostly around 45 but the dj who is some middle aged man, plays really fun songs and we just danced in the corner and sang along. Sometimes I forgot how much fun Chris and I can have on our own.

When the pub closed at 2am, we walked down Essex rd. to what I have dubbed "f**k city" (it's real name is Food City but I stole the joke from Arrested Development) to get some cash then on to kebab place for a cheeseburger. But the stars were shining, heavily, and I thought, I"ll let Chris tend to the meat and I'll head home. But home from essex rd is freaky deaky as there are a lot of hoodies that lurk about, and I got scared and took off my shoes and ran home (ummm...???) I then sat in our bed (things are heavily blurry now) only to hear a knock of the window. Now this is most confusing as our bedroom is at the front of the house and there is a light well in between our window and the road i.e. there is no ground minus a flower box which Chris decided to scale (this could have had astronomic injuries including impallement and/or castration and/or death). He came in, I ate half the cheeseburger and went to bed.

And now I need another one. Chris offered to heat the other half of mine up but it's been sitting in the bin all night. I refused this offer. And he's unfortunately stopped rubbing my feet.

A

This took place around the corner from our house. Well somewhere in this vicinity as we're one of the only streets in Islington/London with wide roads.

Hot

Extremely over heated, over angry, under slept.

This spans over 3 days so try to keep track.

Thursday was a long day at work but great to know I was meeting my friend Martin at Liberty to start what would be known as "I don't remember much the next day and I'm working 9 hours and feel terrible and why did that bartender have to make us those martinis after we had already had two bottles of wine and I ate a salad...a SALAD, salad doesn't absorb alcohol, that was a rookie mistake" evening (good fun nonetheless). We bounced about in Soho from 7pm onwards and I discovered that Martin is the Hugh Grant of real life. Bumblingness (and whaoh! quintessentially english, whether he wants to admit it or not) is just a facade, he's charming and suave and I've heard his stories to back it up. (This is funny because he's most likely reading this and becoming embarrassed or further more arrogant, in the best way possible!)

I'm sure he thinks I can be a bit of a cunt.

Work yesterday was long and tedious. As jounralist and the rest of humanity scive off work early on a Friday, at Mission (PR consultancy I work at) we're good and stay until 6pm. From around 3pm onwards I ran out of things to do, and basically read Dazed (not really read, it's absolute shit!!) and I.D. (equally as shit, sometimes good photograpghy) Suffice to say, long day. And when working on New Bond st. you can't find a cheeseburger anywhere!

So last night, after taking a bit of a nap, Chris and I decided to forgo the privledge of drunken architects bbq being djed by Hot Chip and see Pirates 3 (which made me laugh in the middle because I realized that I had seen each installment with a different boyfriend, it's like a cornerstone of my life that film...either that or I'm a flouzy) however we didn't get out of the cinema until 2am. I passed right out as soon as we got home.

Until 4:30am when Tet knocked on our door and said "I just wanted to let you know that Suzy is bringnig friends around and it's going to be noisy" I was half-asleep and thought he said the police were coming or something to that affect. You know, I would have bloody prefered the police. At 4:45am, after being asleep for nearly 3 hours, there was a fucking flash mob in our lounge room and I was raging! I don't want to get into deep, dark detail about this at all, but 5 st. philip's way and I are going to have words.

And because I was awake for about 2 hours and hearing about some girls stupid blonde eyebrows and her white hair (She was smoking right outside our window) I over-slept and now I'm discumbobulated and feeling steamy and after clenching every muscle in my body last night I feel a bit swollen.

But today is a nice day out and I'm going to make the most of it.

wine with weird brazilian liquor

The mix last night at a surreal party on Brick lane hosted by our Portugese friends. I drunk this very odd Brazilian liquor with lemonade (it by the way, tasted like lemonny gasoline) which is apparently to be served over ice with mint. Oh well.

But it was a fairly surreal evening as the room was basically black until someone brought down a lamp, and as everyone was either, Portugese, Brazilian or American, I felt like I didn't remember where I was. And Portugese is an odd language to hear all around you when you're speaking with your english friends.

I received my contract from work. It's official. Friday was a far superior day to the rest of the week and/or the rant I went on about the bus...I was in a dark place.

But I have been known to be a bit of a cunt from time to time.