Aah, what better way to start Saturday than with a big lie-in, a bacon sandwich and Vaughan Williams blasting from the hi-fi?

Last night, I went to the Langham Hotel for post-work drinks. I'm not sure I ever want to go anywhere else, ever again. It was beautiful and old-school and buzzing, and the rum cocktails were wicked. It might (*might*) even be nicer than Claridges.

I've now seen the Bacon exhib and the Rothko one, too. I can report that the Bacon is better: full of blood, muscles and screaming purple popes. Fantastic.

Rothko wasn't helped by being even more packed at the private view than Tate Modern is usually. But I was surprised how I took to his stuff en masse, and would like to return with Ted on a weekday to sit and absorb it. I find the red ones a bit much, but there were some black and grey ones that looked like the moon which were strangely soothing. Next up: Cold War Design. Mmm, yummy.

Am I the only one who's a bit puzzled by all this furore over Sarah Palin's wardrobe? 'Cause in her position, during a campaign, of course she'll need a new outfit every day, and they'll all have to be well-cut suits and gowns tailored to fit her. Once you add in shoes and accessories, $150,000 isn't actually all that high - $3,000/day would just cover two outfits a day for 50 days, not including hair, makeup or any kit for her family. (Of course, the fact that she has to have all that stuff is indicative of our double standards for women in power, which is just another reason why people shouldn't vote Republican, but ... I just think there are more important things to be talking about.)

My woe at having to work so late tonight was alleviated by a man juggling fire outside the office (I have little time for regular jugglers, even those throwing knives around, but everyone knows fire is quite exciting - FIRE!!!) and, when I got home, the man driving his boxy 80s BMW down the road with his Jack Russell hanging out the back, ears flying behind. I LOVE it when dogs do that! It always makes me smile. *smiles*

Anyway. Then I got home, and Ted and I had a lovely supper, and then ...

Ted: *proffers wine gums*

Me: "No thanks, I've not finished my glass of wine yet."

Ted: "But they're wine gums! They're made to go with wine! Look, that's why they have different wines written on them, to help you! This one goes with port!"

Me: *rolls eyes, sighs, tries to concentrate on Heroes*

Ted: *mouth crammed with wine gums, evil chuckles*

Me: *giggles, fuzzes*

Ted and I both overdid it last night /understatement on our respective escapades, so I spent the day in bed reading lolcats, messing about on Facebook and thanking the gods I'd popped some ibuprofen before going to sleep.

By 7, we'd recovered enough to consider going out, so we dragged our alcohol-wracked bodies to the bus stop and headed into Tooting in search of nourishment.

We found it in vegetarian curry house Kastoori. Despite having carnivore tendencies, I love vegetarian food, especially Indian. It's so nommy and filled with vegetabley goodness.

Kastoori is serious stuff. These guys totally know what they're doing. We opted for the thali, which we often do when checking a veggie Indian out for the first time: generous bowls of corn bhel to start (so yummy), then three little pots of curry, one of dal, rice and chapatis. The curries were delicious: one with potato and tomato, one with baby aubergines and one with little black-eyed beans All three were scrumptious and tantalizing. I was a little envious of Ted's puri, but we swapped and I'll pick them next time. The dal was steeped in cloves - so warming and nourishing, I could feel life returning to my addled bones, Ready Brek-style. There was so much, I didn't touch the rice cos we had rice pudding for pudding (as one generally does), which was infused with cardamom and pistachio, and absolutely delicious.

The restaurant's busy and everything's pretty basic, but comfortable. The service was gentle and attentive. (Perhaps they sensed our fragile state from the mottled greyness of our faces.) They're clearly proud of what they do, and rightly so. The crowd's a bit hippy and a bit old, but everyone there seemed happy and greedy. The damage was only £38 for two stuffed people who weren't touching any Cobra. We will return soon to try the a la carte.

I think I'll start rating restaurants with noms, max score five. I give Kastoori four noms. Nom nom nom nom.

Now I'm going to bed.

Dang. That'll teach me to go to a trendy Soho pub full of tossers and keep a firm hand on my handbag - while my wallet resides happily in my coat pocket. *doh* Still, there wasn't any money in it. It's back to my bar haunts for me. Meanwhile, Ted is, as you can guess, thrilled at having to pick up my tab 'til all my new cards arrive. ^_^

Last night, Ted hauled me from my sickbed to experience math metal, as per my work friends' instructions. I'd not been to a heavy metal gig before; fey indie shite is more my sort of thing. It was AWESOME! Talk about rammed. And so hot! And the mosh pit was ... the entire gig! (I left the main floor to stand safely at the back behind the mixing desk after I got elbow-punched in the stomach three times by an overexuberant man. Eek!) But the band (Dillinger Escape Plan) were *really* good, and there was all sorts of climbing on the Astoria 2, which reminded me of Blur's cracking '92 Glasto gig. Then we all went to the Marquis for a post-gig drink, where the jukebox was playing Wet Wet Wet(now that's what I call music karma) and finished off with seriously yummy kebabs at Efes.

The rest of this week, I've been tucking myself up in bed whenever possible - the leurgy's finally got me. Right now, I am *so* not nice to know. *blows nose* Buy shares in ginger tea now: I'm drinking it for Britain.

Oh, also, my B girls are demanding Prada-style flowery dresses. Sources, anyone?

Clearly, some people have nothing better to do than go through other people's photos on Flickr saying, "This is a tram, not a bus." *whatever shrug*

Also, I don't care how many of you tell me it exists, Snodland is clearly a made-up place. It's a conspiracy, and I won't be drawn into it. So there. :p

Anyway. I don't think this is your knitting, pink_weasel, because it's not pink, or orange, or indeed any nice colour at all, but it made me chuckle pretending that it was:


Last night, we went back to the LTM with Lisa to try the Routemaster cocktail. It's bright red, a bit rough, quite fruity and quite nice - a bit like the old buses themselves. Shame the Upper Deck was so quiet - they deserve more people there, although better lighting would help, I think.

Then we skipped over to Wahaca, which I'd wanted to try for some time. Clearly, we timed it well as we missed the 90-minute wait for a table. (90 minutes! Who would wait that long?) They do little plates of Mexican street food (apparently - I've never been to Mexico and Lisa said the food at Wahaca was way better than anything she ate there). It's a bit like a poshed-up Wagamama - big, noisy, bustly dining room, very modern and shiny, all very communal, benches and stuff, very fun and jolly. The food was mainly delicious, especially the black bean frijoles tostadas, the chorizo quesadillas, the green rice and the spicy slaw, and the mojitos were ok. Ted and Lisa liked the tacos but I thought they were a little greasy; the tortilla soup was fun. Nearly 4 quid for a bottled beer is a bit steep.

Ted has just been to the farmers market to buy more sprout tops and cabbages. Mmm, brassicas.

Spotted! First flip-flops of the year. (Not that surprising, really, given the proliferance of rahs in Clapham, but still ... it *is* February.)

The weather's been absolutely gorgeous this weekend. Yesterday, Daddy and I went to the London Transport Museum for his Christmas treat. It was great - the museum's the perfect size to do in an afternoon and it's all laid out really well. I liked the old tickets and posters the best. "Move to Edgware, a rural paradise!" We think pink_weasel had left her knitting in one drawer, though. (I have a photo but my camera's playing up.) We had lunch at the Upper Deck, which was yummy if a little overpriced, and tried the cocktails afterwards. [They really need to update their website.] Daddy had an Anorak, which he liked very much, and I had a Metropolitan Mixture, which was ok - it was appropriately purple and tasted like Vimto. We wanted to try the Routemaster but were tired - maybe next time.

Last night, we went into Tooting to Mirch Masala, one of Tooting's many curry houses. It was great! Bustly, cheap, packed, fun and extremely yummy. We also saw several more places we'd like to try out, including a cracking-looking vegetarian place. Maybe we should walk there and back next time, though, to work off all the ghee. Mmm, dall ...

Today, we dropped Daddy off at the station and then found Balham's second-hand bookshop. Oops.

Now I'm sitting in the sunshine. It's so good to feel it warming my skin ^_^

Oh Britney, when will you learn? *sigh*

Sarah and I checked out the champagne and oyster bar at Liberty last night. It was very nice – all white and tile-y, a bit like hanging out in a posh underground station. We had fizz and wine, and she told me many scurrilous stories. The lucky girl saw Ian McKellen’s Lear and was very excited about the impressive nature of his assets. There was even some talk of prosthetics. (Cue Ted making bad jokes about Gandalf’s wand when I got home. *groan*) I hope to return to try the oysters and dressed crab sometime, perhaps with my mother if she behaves herself. ^_^

Today, London is as grey as a grey city can be. The only cheerful thing I saw on the way to work this morning was the Hare Krishnas, in their saffron robes. Hooray for them.

And that is the truth.

Last night, we met up at Match Bar for space gin. Yay! The idea was that we'd have a quick one, then dive off to the National Portrait Gallery to catch Pop Art Portraits. We ended up squeezing in a couple, so we only just about made it (cue diving into a taxi - "The NPG! As fast as you can!" /shame) before they closed - in fact, the people behind us weren't let in, so it's a good thing our taxi driver drove really fast over all those road humps; I'm still waiting for the whiplash to set in.

Darlings, art is *so* much better when one is gin-fuelled. The colours are brighter, the impact hits you quicker, it's all trippy and smooth, the whole experience is heightened. Elvis and Andy were gorgeous; there was a lovely chap called Richard Hamilton, who was absolutely super; and lots and lots of Marilyn looking fabulous and sexy. Yay!

Today, Ted and I didn't get up until it was time to go to a Balliol birthday dinner at Navarro's. Nice-ish food, crap service, desperately overpriced. Could have done the whole thing at La Tasca *pulls face* and no one would have noticed the difference, except the bill would have been less ouch.

Then we popped by Shochu, which is the sort of place Ted hates deeply, and rightly so. I had some very nice prosecco, then the worst champagne cocktail I've ever drunk in my life (a cherry blossom bellini - looked and tasted more like menstrual fluid) and he paid a fiver for a beer in a silly glass. He is now very grumpy, and swearing that he'll never enter a cocktail bar again. Personally, I quite liked the amusing mixture of aged hotel guest (dancing) and 'super-hip' London tosser (frowning), but you can't win them all. (It'll be pubs for us for the next fortnight or so. *sigh*)

Tomorrow, we are staying in bed, too. I might hang my clothes up, but that's it. Mmm, lazy. It's that sort of time of year, huh. ^_^

Lovely Lisa and I went to see Mark Thomas's latest show, "As Used on Nelson Mandela", at the Tricycle Theatre in Kilburn last night. I've been a fan of Mark Thomas for many years, and it was great to see his investigative journalist/activist/comedy shebang again.

The first half focused on the ridiculous Serious Organised Crime and Police Act, which prohibits us waving banners (or even wearing political badges or eating cakes iced with "Peace" on them) in Parliament Square. Hello democracy. The second half, which was appropriately less jolly, was a look at the international arms trade.

Mark was on good form, there was a nice buzz in the audience and we laughed a lot. Our brains were also poked with pointy thoughts, which is always a good thing.

The Tricycle was a funny place. Very nice, quite quirky, with a nice bar, although the food was pretty awful.

The show's on all next week, and it's 14 for a good two hours - I highly recommend it.

(warning - self-indulgent brain dump approaching...)

I couldn't wait to get back to London this weekend. I woke at 5:30 this morning as the dawn chorus began, and my head was filled with yearning for the grime and the noise of the city. And that got me to thinking: how perhaps my time in Sussex has healed me, and that perhaps I'm ready for the next adventure. As I've flitted between the country and the city, it's seemed like the best of both worlds, but my itinerant lifestyle is starting to wear me down, and now it feels that it's crunch time.

So I have to pick.

On the one hand, there's a green and pleasant land, my Sussex, peaceful Sussex. It's my sanity and my stability; the only place where my head clears, where my spirit cools, where my brain slows down to something even remotely approximating calmness.

On the other, there's a wild, seething, seedy metropolis, my London, filthy London. It's dark, exciting, and shamelessly seductive; it inspires me, fuels me, dazzles me. But which will make my heart sing?

I'm kinda interested to see where this story goes. And yes, I'm hooked in by this spellbinding city right now. I can feel its magnetic attraction drawing me in, like an addiction pulling me to its breast, its narcotic effect washing all memories of gently rolling hills and birdsong from my easily-distracted brain. London's turned my head; I've looked into its eyes, deep into its soul; and I'm mesmerised.

I doubt it's good for me, I can't tell if it'll guard me or scar me. I can guess; but there's a part of me that's longing to find out.

(Of course, the whole thing's pretty academic, really: there aren't any decent jobs in Sussex, and we'll visit the APs most weekends to get a green fix. But - sometimes you've got to write it out of your head.)

So I promised you photos of Girls Aloud. And when I promise something, I like to deliver it.






But I didn't realise the story would get even stranger. Ted and I each picked up a copy of "London Lite", the capital's less classy freebie evening "news"paper on Friday night because we saw a photo of Sarah Harding on the cover, taken in daylight.

On close examination...



Hahahaha! Our moment of sadness now recorded for prosperity. (Sort of.)

More photos - though no more of Girls Aloud, I'm afraid - on Flickr.

I wasn't sure where to start this post, so here's a big old splurge.

Sussex
It's wonderful being here. Already, I feel so much more at peace. Things aren't perfect, of course, but deep inside, I absolutely know I've done the right thing, and that's wonderful. I'm so happy to be home.

Work
Work has been - surprising. A friend put me in touch with a friend, who liked my work, and the upshot is ... I'm now freelancing as an online writer for CNN. I'm quite in shock about it - it comes pretty close to "my most dream job ever". Heaven knows how long it'll last, but right now, it's fun (actually, it's wonderful just to come into work in the morning, sit at a PC and write for 8 hours), I'm earning and the people I work with seem really *really* nice. I hope it lasts - I've been working really hard to give it my best shot - the pace is certainly faster than in Liverpool (this is a good thing). It's brought my passion back - I feel so enthusiastic and excited about what I'm doing - and they give us free apples. Apples!

Travel
It's so strange - I was dreading my commute, and it is tiring, certainly (3 hours a day, maybe a little more) but my favourite time of the day is when I'm on the big train (which goes from Sussex to London, as opposed to the Underground) looking out of the window at the sun rising over the Sussex hills. I feel peace and quiet washing over me, and my brain has space to wander. The weather here has been very fine, and I feel so lucky to be in this beautiful land.

On the downside, I do look a bit of a twat on the train, because the low sun is really bright and flickery through the trees, and that's one of the things which in the past triggered my migraines. I haven't had one for many years, but the light does make me feel uncomfortable, which means I have to wear sunglasses en route, and I feel like a right wally. (Especially when the train goes through a tunnel.)

Even the tube's not bad, as it's only 2 stops, and at the times I travel I can usually even get a seat.

(What I could do without, though, is the people who smell of booze at 8am. Eww, people! This is not good! Yuck!)

Money
Ouch! Well, I'm earning a bit less than in Liverpool, and everything here is more expensive. My travel costs are burning a large hole in my pocket, and gosh, I'm going to have to get used to southern prices. I wouldn't trade back for the world, though ^_^

Internet
The most frustrating thing, though, is that I'm seriously struggling to find time to spend online. I'm just about (only just) keeping up with emails, and reading LJ, but when I want to post to LJ - mainly when I'm on the train - I can't, and in the evenings, I'm too tired. I've been looking at mobile internet options but they don't seem to be quite what I want yet. Hurry up, Orange! Sort yourselves out with some decent plans and kit!

In the meantime, are there any plans to bring voice posting to the UK? *plaintive wail*

Music
I can't wait to pick up the new Killers album! Meep! I haven't yet picked up the new Scissor Sisters' - but I'm hoping to pinch that off someone at some point.

Also, I have revised my opinion of the new Timberlake single - I love it, even if the lyrics are a bit cringey.

Minki
Minki is now with us, and settling in (trans. "making friends with my folks' cats.") There's been lots of growling and hissing, but relatively little claw-on-claw action. We shall see how things progress ...

Can any of you London folks help me?

I need to put in an expenses claim for work, and I need to claim some tube journeys back, but I paid for them on my Oyster card. Is there any way I can get a statement of my journeys, so I can separate my work ones from my personal ones?