doll face

so the next day (we're talking two weeks ago now) was friday and i'd taken the day off work. i cooked up some halloumi, but we'd got the wrong stuff and it melted and tasted like cheddar. so i don't know what that was about, but it was pretty rubbish. rachel (on half term) and i stayed in all day, worked on my c.v. and cover letter, and watched 'the fatal glass of beer' (much of which i'd forgotten) as well as other delights. fiddler on the roof finished downloading, but was password protected; a quick search revealed the key, only to find it was subtitled, which is quite a distraction. there's plenty of dubbing too, since most of the locations are rough and there's so much singing, so it's got a wierd feel; it's in english, dubbed into english, with english subtitles.

i'd said something the night before about going round to leslie's, but what with all the ingredients i'd bought, and rachel, it was going to be too much hassle. so instead we took it all round thalia's and made tea there, discovering that half of it was mouldy or off. thalia's flat is very... creative. her and her permanent flatmate are two very expressive, artistic, girls, and the flat is a jumble sale of skewed taste. broken chairs nailed to the wall, used as shoe racks, stacks of boxes of bits and bobs, and oh so many mirrors. thalia has an interesting collection of cuddly toys; a threadbare old lion she bought from an antiques shop after falling in love with him, a cute tiger from childhood, and an innocuous small doll with it's bonnet leaning down over it's face. upon lifting it's head up, i was shocked to screaming to discover it didn't have a face. just two slanting lines for eyes and a massive torn hole where it's mouth had been. it had been nibbled by mice, she said, but she still loved it. to her, it's slow decay must have seemed like consistancy and it wasn't disturbing at all. but to rachel and i, it was hideous.

we stayed up til two, then slept in jo's bed, since there was no need to waste time on the night bus. in the morning rachel had gone, she needed to tart up her flat ready for her mum's birthday. i rose and had a lovely breakfast with jo, then went home on the (painfully slow) silverlink. that evening was another birthday meal, this time esther's and at masala zone; trying to be cheap, i just had a chaat and a daal, oh and a roti, which nearly cost the same as an actual meal and didn't fill me up. luckily there was plenty of left overs from everyone else, but still it showed frugality doesn't work.

ruth was having difficulty breathing, so we went back to london fields and watched 50 first dates, with rachel and her mum. the good thing about bad films is it's okay to talk over them. i did feel like ignatius reilly though, declaiming my disbelief at the horrors i was watching, yet still not turning away. at least i know i never have to watch it again; it's worth seeing, not because it's so bad it's good, but because it's so bad it's fascinating.

sunday... i can't remember. probably something really good.