I'm sorry I didn't write yesterday but I am reading an absolutely gripping self-help book at the moment and it is requiring me to do lots of exercises and write down my innermost thoughts and dreams etc. which couldn't be more fun as it means thinking about myself non-stop, which is a special gift of mine as you will know, but it does mean that I haven't had so much time to write about myself for your reading pleasure.
That doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about you. I had a really nice weekend, slightly too much sitting in the flat waiting for the Virgin man and the supermarket man for my liking, as I would have preferred to be out in the sun, but otherwise all good. On Saturday night I debuted a new garment: a kind of black shorts and top combo item, kind of like a sleeveless jumpsuit but without the legs. It is well cool. I wore it with opaque black tights and black stillettos and felt a bit exposed in the thigh area but, being that it is definitely better to regret something you have done than something you haven't, I am pleased that I took the gamble. Even more crazily, I went outside while wearing this outfit, to the theatre with Alix to see Spring Awakening, which was absolutely freaking brilliant, quite saucy and highly recommended. We bought cheap seats on the stage, which meant we couldn't quite pick up all the lyrics, but were surrounded by cast members and right in the action. It was a young team and they were all very talented and enthusiastic and, as I always do when I enjoy myself at any sort of performance, I felt quite irritated that I wasn't involved. Especially because there were two or three male actors who were breath-takingly handsome and who could sing, a combination I have long found so irresistable that it was extremely tricky to resist lungeing at them as they exited stage right.
Monday morning was back at work and my boss recounted an incident from his weekend. Apparently, after dinner, late on Saturday night, he went for a walk through Leicester Square, because his friend thought he should see what the real London is like. It was about 11pm and he noticed a crowd gathered outside a bar near Capital Radio. He thought maybe it was a fight, so he went over to help, and saw two girls lying on the floor, completely drunk, one topless and the other licking her nipples. "There are so many horrible people in London," he said. I felt very defensive about my city and, having never ever seen anything quite so intimate happening in the street in any of my 31 years here, did try and make the point that he'd been unlucky (or lucky, depending on whether you like that kind of thing). But I think his mind is made up. Ah well.
Right. Self-help, introspection and navel-gazing beckons. Til next time.
If he thinks Leicester Square is the real London, he has more problems than witnessing a little peep show on the street!
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