Monday 30 November 2009

• Making it by the skin of my teeth.
• A wardrobe clone malfunction. Oops.
• Guards in St James (and Gideon, looking particularly Blow Up). Relatedly, I do love talking to random people.
• A pit stop for a glass of beaujolais - before heading home to find leftovers.
• Revelations.

Sunday 29 November 2009

• Hashbrowns (yes, I do mean four, please).
• Hiding from the pelting rain by scuttling into the movies.
• Matching feet.
• Bed with a book.
• Two gothic cross dressers, lost, on my doorstep.

Saturday 28 November 2009

• Lazing on the sofa with the papers and the decadence of pizza during the day.
• A last minute, late night dash to the Landseer - with a sense of anticipation entirely linked to the last time I was there.
• Blitzing the Times puzzles - clearly a lower level of smarts required to read that particular paper.
• Flashcards. I am geek, hear me roar.
• Looking like a pixie in my duffel coat.

Friday 27 November 2009

• Hiding away at Hideout.
• Lunch with a disconcertingly familiar voice.
• A reclaimed afternoon.
• Felicitous timing (for me, not for the poor soul who walked four miles home from Wood Green).
• 'Get out with your bad fashionable self'. (I probably shouldn't have replied that the three scarves are a corollary of the weather, not a style statement, should I?)

Thursday 26 November 2009

• Vintage bridal fun and games.
• The New Rose, in two stages (including a pub quiz that elicitated a roar of 'Maddy!' when the books round came up. Gratifying.)
• Late night pasta medley, made from a concotion of freezer goodies.
• A shared roll of the eyes at a ratty wench 'concerned' about standing on bags. Really?.
• A cotton bag solution.

Wednesday 25 November 2009

• Another stage in a horrid process down - faking it til I make it.
• Buckets of champagne and canapes at the Tate, providing sustenance for the Pickard sister double act.
• Advocating (once again) slightly over excitedly (once again) for the wonder that is Roger Hiorn's Seizure.
• Finishing my book in a comfy chair upstairs at the Harp.
• Lashing of red lipstick - armour against the outside world.

Tuesday 24 November 2009

• Masters results back... a distinction! 77% for my blasted dissertation. Hoo-fucking-rah!
• A big old bear hug at the end of a horrid, horrid day.
• A new pen.
• A moment of quiet with a small glass of wine and an out of date Style magazine before I slid into bed.
• Broccoli, cooked just so.