The weekend was 1) f—–g cold, and 2) tiring. I met a friend of a friend for a drink after work, then met D coming in from Brussels at the champagne bar at St. Pancras station (heated seats!) and then went off to meet someone else at a concert which turned out to be at least one awful band. Saturday was spent on a trip to find a bookstore called John Sandoe near Sloan Sq, and being slightly disappointed by it, but eating a nice brie and cranberry jam sandwich and vowing not to shop in London on weekends during Xmas. Back to the apt. for a nap, being woken up by Angeline’s sister who stopped by for a glass of wine and some convo, and then going to a “shiny” party hosted by a young diplomats association.
Sunday, needless to say, was somewhat of a haze which involved Skypeing with the boys in the morning and making up a story for Q’ool with two small stuffed elephants I have from Rwanda to keep his attention. Then reading the awful newspaper over Thai food at a local pub but not getting warm enough, and having D come over for the evening and going for tapas and wine on the High Street and realizing that I was still exhausted at the end of the weekend.
Yes. It is ridiculous. I went and saw Malcolm Gladwell speak this evening at the Lyceum Theater. I enjoyed his talk. I equally enjoyed the McDonald’s two cheeseburger meal I ate on the walk to the Tube station.
Two days of relative non-activity except that I have to rent a tuxedo somewhere, then A arrives on Thurs morning until Sunday. And people ask me if I’m going to cook a turkey this year. Incredible.