Had to go back down to London. Bumped into my nearest Northumberland neighbour while I was there who was also down for a couple of days work. How about that for a coincidence? To celebrate we had coffee and pastries in a chic pavement cafe. I rang my husband. I said: "You'll never guess what?" and explained I had just run into my friend. I figured I had better call in case someone else we knew walked by and presumed we were having breakfast together after a night of illicit passion.
So on the down side there was no passion in my trip to London but I did fit in a haircut which is always a good thing. I think I have been "letting myself go" a little for the past while. I wash obviously. But in the past year I have gone up a dress size and now my only question when I look at clothes is: "Will it keep me warm?". My lacksadaisical approach to my appearance got so bad about a month ago I cut my own hair. Not just my fringe. All of my hair. Not entirely off. Not like Britney but a pretty thorough scissoring trim down both sides. Not long ago I would have cut off my own hand rather than do such a thing to myself. Anyway, I got the haircut which is a start at least and I have made a resolution to make more of an effort.
Despite the haircut, the trip was a vaguely uneasy one all told. I was supposed to spend both nights with a friend. When I arrived on Tuesday, she was hideously stressed by a work deadline, a poorly child and the fact she was due to go away on holiday a couple of days later. She was so stressed it became blazingly apparent I could not stay there two nights or I would pitch her over into insanity. There was nothing I could do about the first night so we had a nice dinner and I said I would stay somewhere else on Wednesday. Of course Wednesday comes around and I kiss her goodbye and I think: "That's it. I'm homeless in London." I cannot go home early because my business meeting is not till Thursday. I am now caught between ringing someone else who will feel like she is my second choice or staying in a Travelodge. I seriously contemplate the Travelodge option but decide it would be so miserable I might throw first the executive trouserpress out of the window and then myself. It is at this exact moment I run into my Northumberland neighbour. I know people who would think this was the work of Jesus. There I am homeless in the Big City and I run into my best friend from home. Do I tell him my problem? Of course I do not. I cannot possibly tell him I am homeless in London and do not know where I am going to sleep. It sounds as if I am so dull my friend has decided she has asked me to leave. It would also sound as if I am inviting him to that night of illicit passion. Instead, we drink our coffee, discuss the relative merits of city and country, and I say "See ya" and wave merrily as we part.
Wenders put me onto your blog, and I'm glad she did. I've enjoyed the 4 or 5 posts I've read,and look forward to more.
By the way, where DID you stay in London that second night?
Wifey, where did you go? Is there a sequel to this post? Oh I do hope so.
What??? Of course you should have told him your problem...and...you can't finish the post without saying where you stayed!
You could have come to me, you know! OK, it's not right in the middle of that 'mighty heart' - but is after all only a short train-ride away. Waterloo to Kingston - only half an hour at most.
On the other hand, did you have no money for a hotel? And where was your husband anyway; since I'm sure you said he stays in London during the week....?
It's no good though - you'll just have to write Part Two, and put us all out of our misery!
You must tell us! The suspense----
Where did you stay? Where did you stay? Did I ask yet - where did you stay?
Yes, we the sequel to this episode.
Re- sartorial matters in the country... I remember how it was I semmed to be permanently in wellies and the same Norwegian sweater winter AND summer! We were not concerned about how we looked then but how we felt, - preferably warm.
Now I live in the city I think I have smartened my act up a bit. Or have I? Here I am sitting here writing this in a paint-streaked fleece that should have gone to the skip ages ago. Ah well!!
Gawd, my triping!!
The first sentence SHOULD have said, "Yes we NEED the sequel..."
Please tell us where you ended up? You went to the travellodge didn't you? in my opinion, to stay one night at a travellodge is fine, but to hold your wedding reception in one is very pikey.
The Ritz? The Savoy? Cardboard box? Looking forward to the sequel which of course you are going to write...
Nice to see you back safe & sound anyway!
Thanks for a great night, WITN!
[By the way, if you do give us a sequel, the spelling is "lackadaisical"!]
It was Waterloo Bridge, wasn't it? Your search for interesting blog material over-rode your common sense.
Dammit... I'm going to ponder over this all weekend.
Did I inadvertadly give Wifey 50p as she sat on a flattened cardboard box on Waterloo Bridge?
Hey, you said "home" and you didn't mean London!
Now come on, where DID you stay?
Ah, but, at least you haven't let yourself go to the point where you couldn't imagine someone suspecting you of illicit nights with your Northumberland neighbour. So that's good news.
There goes that doglover with his need to correct spellings! My condolences that he is now on to you!
By the way, why do you never stay with your husband when you are in London! You could have had a licite night of passion with him!
It's spelled "licit", Retired&Crazy!
I'd have been sorely tempted to confess all to my friend! Dying to know where you stayed must stop this and read next installment.
Bugger, DogLover is dogging me!
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