i made a curry a couple of night ago - a huge pot's worth, which me and my brother polished off. i put two green chillies in 0 nothing hardcore, and the end result wasn't that hot. but for two days after, i could feel those chillies all over my body, not especially my bum which felt saddle sore. a very strange feeling.
last weekend, ruth hewinson came to stay and check out london, since i don;t think she feels aberdare is right for her. i say 'hewinson', not becuase it's her surname, but because it's the surname of the boy she had when he met, and i still don't know hers (she did say it at some point, so i really should have paid attention. but anyway, we got the drinks in on friday, and debbie and her greek course-mate lydia came over and we prepared to hit london and show her the life.
as is the way, we didn't leave until nearly midnight. we'd figured, from what we could gather from the interent, that most good nights were to be had in shoreditch, even though most of the good ones would be nearly over by the time we got there. a free paper gave us the rest of the low down on the tube; narrowing our options by several factors, we decided on a electro-pop &c. night starting at midnight and going on 'til 6, giving us a huge window of opportunity. when we got outside, they were playing 'just can't get enough', and a chalk board leaning against the pub/bar door advertised the nights's scedule; apperently, before midnight, the plase was a strip joint. so we went in, and got our only drinks of the night (bear in mind we were fully pissed on leaving, nipping from a half bottle of vodka (flavoured with a single drop my mum's super-pottent creme de casis) on the tube] the clientelle, who were filtering in, were.. .interestingly dressed. all dancing very expressivley (although less so as it filled up), all dressed very oddly - 80's gym wear, leggins and tracksuits, sheep hats and smeared make up everywhere. everyone was very loud, and very horny. what had we wandered into? i'd have liked to have danced round the pole, like we used to do at girl on, but i couldn't get near it for groping couples. the night was fun, but it was more 'smack my bitch up' than 'their law'. about three, they started to play rave, and i realised i had to leave right away, which of course is always the point when i can't find people. i was finding it very upsetting, and i was tired. 'you won't like me when i'm tired'. eventually we managed to leave, and after one bus, decided to hail a cab from holborn rather than wait half an hour for another in the freezing cold. we piled back to mine via the 24 hour shop for essential supplies.
here another magic thing happened. a young man, smoking, trying to get into the shop, asked me if he could come back to mine. apparently, some people were out to kill him because he 'fucked the wrong girl up the arse'. he tried unfolding money at me. i tried every rebuttal, not least 'look, if they're out to kill you, last thing i want is them on my tail'. i told him to stay inside the shop, where they at lesat had security and warmth. we had to run back, it was so cold. sometime in the night, debbie woke me up complaining of back pains, i massaged her for a bit until we fell asleep.
the morning started slowly. too knackered and confused by hunger to think about what to eat, we ended up getting noodles. debbie had the most disgusting sea food i have ever seen - ruth's sweet and sour chicken looked blissfully harmless in comparison. at lesat it didnt look wierd. but then i have read 'jenny finn', but then maybe that's only sickening because sea food itself will always be rank and odd.
pretty much the whole day was spent on public transport. everything was slow and stopping and breaking down;by the time we got into the centre of town, i thought fuck it, i'm going to virgin megastore. i picked up nasum's shift, bat for lashes' fur and gold, and ornette coleman's free jax, all for around twenty quid. i went up to the desk and said 'i'd like to buy this big pile of crap please', and the assistant said 'did you find everything okay?' the way back was equally tortourous, broken up by essential pint somewhere round acton. ruth is an amazing person, who understands that cult of luna is chill out music. my kinda woman. i took her to victoria on sunday morning, and then headed to deptford to wander around south london with dan, looking at houses and getting a sense of the geography of the place. it's wierd how quickly shit holes turn into lovely areas and back again. peckham is really ugly, but walk ten minutes down the road to the thames and the brunel museum, and it's a delightful, if slightly yuppie, paradise.
to be continued when more has happened. (it has, that's just me being wry)