>a new york minute: the time between the light turns green, and the guy behind you honks his horn
>saturday, shannon and i got this wicked theatre-dinner package. we saw the classic musical Cabaret in the west end and then had dinner at Sugar Reef, all for 20 quid! the show was pure eye-candy, colours, lights, bodies in motion, wild costumes, very Bob Fosse, great evocation of Weimar berlin, early 1930s, great tragic love story, great political message (even if the message has been done to death a gazillion times before). it wasn’t the best musical i’ve ever seen, but i appreciated it for what it was. the stage was constantly moving, and there was never a dull moment. i’m not too keen on big budget musicals, but they entertain you, so you get your money’s worth.
loved the gratuitous nudity.
rock out with your cock out.
shannon at the dinner table
the place was pretty posh:)
why does my camera make the lights all fuzzy?!
look at her giggle, she can’t take it!
this is my “yes, i’m a normal gal” pose . . . but you all know the truth.
and then Digress! mmm, sweet drinks and cute boys abound!
shannon is turning into one of my favourite gal-pals. this is a beautiful girl (um hello? classic beauty!) who has gone through so much in her life, makes me feel pathetic for whining about my little girly problems. and she is so strong and so wise, she has metamorphed the shit life threw at her and turned it into a brick-wall of knowledge that is indestructible. i think i can learn so much from her.
yesterday, i had a chrissy-exploring-london day. first i went to brick lane, which i found completely by accident. i was meant to go to spitalfields market, but the market was just a super-expensive version of actual street markets for frou-frou mayfair dickheads. brick lane, on the other hand, was the balls-out real deal.
best graffitti ever. apparently banksy operates in the area of brick lane. don’t think this is him.
after brick lane, i made the hike up to hampstead heath. karl marx used to picnic here. i mean, come on!
the infamous kite flyers of parliament hill
they say parliament hill is where guy fawkes and his cronies stood to overlook the house of lords as it was supposed to explode.
scanning the missed connection section, i found this.
the second time in my life i’ve had a shout-out in a missed connection column.
no matter how much i try to suck it up, someone is noticing.
i can’t hide.
supposed to be a rear window-homage, we spent most of the flick elbowing and poking each other, making sly comments, and sucking down the huge diet coke we stupidly bought.
we talked a lot after the flick over beers and bellinis.
when we ventured out into the crush of midnight, we fell under drizzle.
we know now . . . that we were pressing ourselves together only to pull ourselves apart.
. . .
somewhere out there, there’s a boy and girl lying together on a single bed in wimborne. he’s telling her that he loves her, and she’s welling up with tears.
i’m flying out to new york city tomorrow.
don’t wait up.