Someone flirted with me – and I noticed! This would be a rare event anywhere but in Cambridge?! Inconceivable.
Then I attempted to shop at a grown-up lady store, only to find that I can make even the most respectable frock look egregiously slutty. Who knew. Not me, for sure.
The application for Indefinite Leave to Remain (aka permanent UK residency) has been dispatched by courier to the attorney shepherding the next part of the process.
I can now accurately state where I was every single day over the course of the last five years. Not that I want to or anything.
FYI, I reckon 8am is not the most ideal time to shoot passport photos. Unless you like that “look,” of course.
Tomorrow I relinquish my passport for an unspecified length of time. Adventures will therefore be restricted to the UK (England, Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland). The only reasonable idea I’ve only come up with is Bekonscot Model Village.
But Byron says that if I go there, the universe may end. So… whatever.
This morning I just wanted to drink coffee and write but instead I was stranded in a Bermuda Triangle of Ladychat. Must. Escape!
I hustled my headphones in and did my best to ignore, but could still hear a sharpish twittery noise…. though at least no words were discernible!
Then as I cycled to the river, the people who live on Drunk Bench cheerfully shouted “Oi! It’s the girl who loses her boat! Don’t do that today, we’re busy!”
One hundred and seven rolls of film later, guess what turned up? The Chorus at the first Ladyfest. Including bit not limited to the Beauty Bark Incident.
On the way to the camera store I provided directions and assistance to three sets of strangers. Before 9am. Perhaps I should give up my career and switch to the tourism industry.
Except, oh wait, I don’t like ….strangers.
Capitalist bastards took Birdsong off the radio!
That was sufficiently appalling, but this afternoon I can’t decide: am I more of a “Canal Boat” or “Waterways World” kind of girl? I’m certainly too cheap to buy both. How stressful.
On the topic of thrift, I am generally thrilled to find my books in charity shops… except today I stumbled across the one with my face on the cover. Creepy!
Back on the devils teat I’m realizing how special Olympia was, at least in terms of coffee. I miss the Smithfield! The Asterisk! Batdorf & Bronson! Dancing Goat! Heck, even the campus coffee cart was better than anything here.
Today I’m eating bread, cheese, cherries & plums on the banks of the river. If the tourists would stop pestering me I would say this is a perfect afternoon!
Though I must pre-emptively admit I loathe, detest, and abhor the Strawberry Fair.
I spent the morning sorting toiletries into two categories: “labels in languages I do not speak” and “tiny bottles of Aveda snagged from hotels.”
Is it possible to travel too much?
I was extremely excited to find that the city centre chemist now stocks the sunblock I normally fly to France to purchase. My life is officially perfect! I am quite insufferable.
A friend commented on the Jordan/Peter Andre split: just proves if you marry for tits, you end up with crazy. I mean, look at you!
In more pertinent news, it has been five years, five months, and twenty-three days since I last tasted coffee and I have decided: today is the day for a reunion with my favorite beverage. Wish me luck! Who knows how I will react to such a strong stimulant!
In the midst of what people in England call ‘hols,’ including visits to a twelfth century castle, the largest toy museum in the world, and a guinea pig safari park!
The view from my boat includes a cow nibbling on my bicycle.
I’ve been reading the newspaper and must report I am terribly disappointed that there isn’t more racy sexy nonsense in the current political scandal. Mortgage fiddling is BORING.
Off to a hot date with the Audley End Miniature Railway.
It is difficult to catch up on life after a long absence, but this I know for sure: I am not an intercontinental answering service. I don’t even know my own phone number!
Though if I had read the several hundred pieces of email that arrived while I was traveling, I would have known that someone wrote a song for me!
Back in the routine of archive films, I managed to see ‘Writers and Trains’ and… I’m ever so pleased that both Auden and Betjeman shared my sincere love of the railways.
Tonight I’m going out to watch Forgotten Music from the GPO (including live orchestra and chorus) with the best dressed and most charming chap in all of England. AKA my son.