sausage roll problem

I am eating sausage rolls and I can't stop drinking white wine.  I don't know what is wrong with me.

I hope you are basking in the tropical sun as I bask in the London sun.

This is the bridge I walked over every day to get to school when I was little.

How I imagine your nights in London...

What

You mean I should MISS the toothless, oxycontin-addled, lumpen masses of Greenfield?!  How DARE you suggest such a thing?!?!?!?

London is HOT.  As in, it is HOT and you can't wear trousers, you have to wear shorts or a dress or something.  The other day I walked up Portobello Road and through a crowd of rastafarians and it made me think of you.  Today I will probably continue my life as a flaneur.  I'll take some pictures of sunny London for you.

Jsut to remind you of what you're not missing...

Hope this makes you enjoy London even more!

Mission...1?

Go see this for me mmk?

http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/2b312c24-6570-11e0-b150-00144feab49a.html#axzz1JnDc7WM5

Hungover

I love scary movies.  

Last night I somehow went to the Box in Soho.  I think there's one in New York.  We were at a table and they just kept bringing these bubbly heaven shots.  Everyone there was an old Russian billionaire or famous or some form of prostitute.  I loved it.  Sebastian would have loved it.  YOU would love it.  Actually I am not ready to describe the bondage sex show they put on for us because I am too hungover.

What's your favorite scary movie?

Pick up the phone...

I dare you to open the front door...

I'm in the closet...

I just saw  SCRE4M. So insanely badly good.

I DARE you to go see it. I think the most terrifying part is the size of Courtney Cox's whale lips.

communication in communication in communication

dreary london

I hope your birthday was pure magic.

I might have a job as a cocktail waitress in Soho.  Temporary fix for my ever-dwindling funds.  There is a live Cuban band every night.  I refuse to be sucked back into the vampiric lifestyle of working nights, however -- this is a TEMPORARY FIX.

Last night I had a dream that was very much inspired by your birthday donuts.  I met you in a candy/pastry store and you were talking about your birthday party but I wasn't invited :(  Subconscious anxiety dream.  Then I started eating donuts.  Extreme fatty that I am becoming.  Yesterday I ate so much Easter chocolate it makes me hate myself.

I don't even know when Easter is, anyway.

MISS YOUUU

THANK YOU MY LITTLE SPY MUFFIN!! The birthday brut below is in response to your bottle. They miss each other.................... no projection there.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!

Contribute.

This small bottle of champagne demands that you post something.

cambridge

Got the pictures to work...!

These are the protesters outside of parliament.  

The Duke of Westminster was in love with Coco Chanel and if you're in the Westminster part of London you can see her initials engraved on the lampposts.  I love that they are still there.

test 2

test. test. sibilance. sibilance.

albion

Spent all day in the Tate, mainly in the Romantics room, with my good friends Turner and Blake.  I love the Romantics more than anything else, as they unabashedly admit to their roles as inspired geniuses and prophets, AS DO I.  I especially loved Regulus by Turner.  Painted from the viewpoint of a Roman general who has had his eyelids removed... it is sublime.

After the Tate I walked along the Thames and before I knew it was in the midst of millions of tourists as I had walked right in front of parliament.  Woops.  I was more interested by the people across the street.  For some reason this blog is not allowing me to upload my groundbreaking and beautiful pictures.  Of lampposts and anti-war protesters.  WHY IS THIS.

The sun is beginning to set and all I can hear are day drinkers in the pub next door.  It's heartwarming.  I wish that I could join them but I'm still detoxing after the Cambridge bender.

Cambridge

Is ancient.  Everything is medieval.  It is so beautiful.  It is hard to be drunk in the town, especially with high heels.  Easy to fall over.  Something about the past few days has been awfully Withnail & I.  You understand.

On Sunday I went for lunch in Primrose Hill and sat near someone from East Enders.  I don't know if you know EastEnders.  British soap opera.  Terrible and yet great.  Big excitement for me to eat roast poussin near this fellow:

Pure class and elegance.

During the drive up to Cambridge we got caught in the most horrible rainstorm of all time.  Apocalyptic.  Floods.  Terror.  We ate at Jamie's Italian and I drank prosecco and ate scallops and managed to fall asleep and dream that I was caught in a rain storm -- but the rain was GLASS.  What kind of terrible dark things are hidden in my subconscious.  It was the worst dream I have ever had in my life, ever, ever, ever.  

Not quite recovered from our 24 hour hedonistic binge, but it involved Pimms.  And punters.  And waking up in a doorway.  And judgement.  

OH GOD

FINALLY BACK IN LONDON.  had a few days of insanity in cambridge.  feel very wobbly and unhappy with myself as a human being.  BIG missions, BIG updates on the way.  i may have 'croup'

worrisome

I'm getting nervous that the London underworld swallowed you whole.

Jesus

I'm not drunk while writing this shit. It's the damn iPod and autocorrect. OBVI. I hope you piss you pants laughing. I just did. And that girl thought she wasn't sitting next to a freak...

I just looked at her, having no verbal response to offer.

" you look just like a girl I went to highschool with."
"I don't think that's possible."
"you look just like her." she said in a dreamy kind of voice.
"nope."


She basically left me alone after that but I dis watch her harass sone other people. Finally the driver comes in a calls for reserved seats and she sprints to the front of the line. Luckily o had a reserved sear as well so I got to watch her shove the ticket in the drivers hand and , no joke, full on run out to the bus. As I was making my way on I looked around to see where age was sitting so I could sit sonewhere far far away. She was nowhere to be found. I was both creeped out and on the verge of laughing. I pick a seat and as I'm taking off my jacket this THING comes flying down the aisle from the bathroom and takes a seat at the very front. Obviously a little taken aback by the fact that another woman was already sitting in the front seat. But no bother, she sits next to the poor woman even though every other seat was empty.

And that was the end of my interaction with that person. But then this other chick in front of me is dealing with her bags etc an finally says "ugh can I just sit next to you?" I say sure. "okay good. I just don't want to get stuck sitting next to sone weirdo." once again i had Bo response. Are all people huge assholes?

"no of course not..."
"it's just that this show is so much deeper. It really gets inside you."
"well in glad you're going to see it."
"I won't be getting back until really really late."
"well I guess it's good it's Saturday."
"exactly I have nothing to do the next day." do you ever have anything to do?
"awesome. Glad it works out."
Blissful silence for about 3 minutes than this:
"do you do this a lot?"
"what ridethe bus? I guess ive done it a few times." like 100 time
"are they could about calling the reserved seats first?"
"yeah I would say they're good about it."
"oh good good. Cause I have a reserved seat." no way! "and I think a lot of people here" at this point she looks around sheepishly and whispers these next words as if she's about to say something real offensive "have standard seats."
..............,........................

" ohyeah I guess that's a concern."
"I'm going to see a friends show."
"oh that's fun."
" yeah I didn't tell my parents I was going. But I guess most 30 year olds dont tell their parents that." ooooooook
"uuum probably not."
" yeah they would tell me in crazy to see this show again. They think I've seen it too many times. They don't know how many times I've really seen it."
" well I guess if you like something...."
" there's nothing like it. Its so moving and lifechanging. I guess in addicted to it. It won thepulitzer."
" oh cool."
"it should have won a tony. I mean it's not some show like Billy Elliot. It really changes you."
Blank stare.
"not that I have anything against Billy Elliot."

Trying something new

I'm on a Peter pan bus typing on my iPod. Guess I try a new color font? In seriously bored. I get to port authority ( my enemy if my enemy canberra a place) early and look for a decent place to get a bagel and coffee. After making the rounds to assess my options, I settle on au Bon pain ( that kooks wrong). I spend 5 minutes trying to figure out how the he'll to order or grab food or pour coffe or order coffe or which of the 5 registers to use. Frazzled, i ran out with a hot coffee in hand and some sort of bagel in my bag. Oh and im wearing a very obtrusive backpack if that helps paint a picture. So I head to the gate and I swear I've never seen a more disfubctional line. I can't even call it a line. It was more of a scattered crowd of people trying their best to make it impossible for anyone to navigate around them, through them, whatever. I decided to stand in the spot that best resembled the end of the line and tried to mind my own business and sip my scalding coffee. Then this happened:

"coffee?"
" hm? Oh yeah." I nodded at this woman a few people in front of me. She was no more than five feet, abnormally large head, and a relatively normal outfit of black jeans and ballet flats. I could see the hairspray curling her highlighted hair into a crunchy, motionless mass.
" now we'regoi ng to have to use the bathroom right?" we?

Baps

Baps are delicious hamburger-sized rolls of bread.  Just a hilarious word.

Minicabs -- taxis that may or may not be legally operating, 24 hours a day.  The only lit place to run for cover on deserted, highly scary high streets in East London.

I am not pregnant -- that was an April Fool's.  Well, let's hope I have not immaculately conceived.  Speaking of biblical shit, I really hope you get the Performa job and in that token i will be praying for you my dear!  It is a nice day in the UK, but I also feel tired and my brain isn't quite working.

So many questions

First: Please explain minicab and bap. I realize I can look them up myself, but I'd rather not. 


Deuxième: My "interview" went okay. It's for a position at Performa (I may have told you?) that my old boss wants me to have. She made it sound like a done deal, but the director told me that she's not sure if she wants to hire and intern or pay someone part time. My old booooos said that the director is easily convinced. We'll see. Up in the air. Also, I'm not using names here. For some reason that seems right, but I don't know why. I think you know who I'm talking about, though. 


Terzo: I'm pretty sure you're not pregnant, again.... Again that I'm sure not again that you're pregnant. Who is the father, though, if you don't mind me asking? Is he ENGLISH? You should watch the most recent 30 Rock when Jack and his babymammmma go to Canada. But if you do watch it don't think that I'm saying England is like Canada. Mmmk? 


I'm having a hard time being articulate this morning. For example, none of the above were questions reaaalllly. And it's really obvious that I cut/pasted the french word, but I'm too lazy to change the font. 


I really enjoyed your tales of london antics. I want more. So foreign to me, and so dangerous. I hope no one holds you up at needle point. I hope no one punches you while you're innocently strolling down the street. And I hope no one throws a brick at you. English people are CRAZY. We just use guns here. 

Oh

How was your interview?

Also, I'm pregnant, and keeping it.

Big day, big night

Yesterday was a true London day.  Of course, this spy is an idiot and forgot her camera, so I shall PAINT A PICTURE WITH WORDS.

Camden is weird.  No Amy, probably a good thing as my immune system is down with a cold, don't want any diseases.  Camden is full of every kind of person, especially chavs shouting at you outside of McDonalds and Arabic men shouting at you by their stalls, peddling cheap bags and shirts and sunglasses.  Camden Market is the St Marks of London; it surely used to be dodgy and terrifying but is now gentrified and vaguely edgy.  At the Job Centre I attempted to get my National Insurance number so that I might possibly, in my wildest dreams, get a job and make some money.  That place is anthropologically fascinating, as I was surrounded by Russians and Indians and Eastern Europeans and Asians and the man helping me out had strange blue eyes and thought he had a chance at a date, I reckon.

Camden is harmless, but East London at night is not!!  We started our evening at a figure drawing class in Bethnal Green:

Yes this guy was very naked the whole time.  Can you tell my pictures went out with me last night??

We went out in Dalston to a place called the Alibi where everyone is too beautiful and too cool for school.  Worse than New York, which I did not think could be possible.  East London is grimy as fuck.  We were walking down Kingsland High street which is deserted save for 24 hr minicab places, around one in the morning.  This crazy woman came running at us with some kind of fake blood on her face, crying that she'd been attacked, why wouldn't we "fucking help her."  We ignored her and kept walking and she started shouting, saying she would punch us both in the face.  We were high and it was SCARY.  We ran down the street, convinced she had a knife.  Then she started chasing two men.  Crazy bird.  Didn't feel safe until we were inside the alibi, sweating, drinking gin and tonics and dancing to DUBSTEP and oggling the most handsome bartender... ever.

Just ate a ham and cheese on a bap.  BAPBAPBAP.