ouch...

The morning after.

Off screen: a drinks cabinet, half emptied, a kitchen stacked with dirty cocktail glasses, regular glasses, and even mugs, CDs scattered on the floor, vinyl stacked up against the shelves, builders in the apartment above making way too much noise at 8:30am...

After passing out at 5am after many many cocktails at L&J's pad in Hackney, I wake too early, move slightly, groan loudly, remember the shots of rose schnapps and rose vodka that seemed like a good idea, the joint that was passed round as we looked at teenage photos from the early '90s...

Realising I have plans I have to keep, I manage to stand upright and somehow make my way to Liverpool Street Station. My phone battery is dead, I have to use a call box. It's like going back in time. Not only do I have no idea how to use the fancy-pants machine, but the minimum fare is 40p. Bastards. I sit on the Hammersmith & City line, wishing for death, crawl off the tube and meet my sister, drag myself into the car with a groan, cancel our plans, make her take me home and spend the rest of the day in bed...

yay!

Saturday night, two of my favourite New Yorkers, Dan and Christy Claire arrived in town. I went to meet them at Heathrow, then escorted them over to Islington, where Dan's cousins have a palace of a duplex apartment. After some apartment exploration, I eventually managed to drag them out and down to the pub where Leith, James and Tommah were secretly waiting for them. But man, talk about taking her time getting ready... CC is almost as bad as my sister.

Sunday was our usual East London Sunday Brunch - this time at Hackney City Farm, where lots of small children were running around in Halloween costumes. After full english breakfasts, for those that eat meat, and other variations for those that don't, we headed over to Columbia Road market, then down to Brick Lane and Cheshire St as a visit to Beyond Retro was requested. My energy levels were starting to flag so we escaped the market masses and went to the Redchurch for refreshment. Wine, Pimms, beer, americanos, Orangina...

Later I accompanied the troupe over to Curtain Road and left them in another pub [for the record, Dan and CC got a little too overexcited at the American Apparel store they discovered on Curtain Rd] to trek back over to home sweet west London...

east london poster poetry

sunday brunch and brief wanderings round brick lane and nearby streets with leith and james and tilda wonderpup and jerry made for a nice break from the ups and downs.

this one time, at band practice...

Who the fuck wants to work during a London heatwave?? I bunked off work to go to band practice and photoshoots, and discovered this:



Why did no one tell me they'd built a beach in East London?!? It's between Brick Lane and Commercial Street. How brilliant? I do miss the beach being a mere [40 minute or so] subway ride away. And yeah, okay so a real beach with some sea would be better, but it's still a neat idea.

I felt a little sorry for the boys having to rehearse in an unventilated basement during this weather, gotta say. They sounded really good.



But clearly the tambourine player felt he didn't need to practice too much...



So me, Ronnie and Jackie disappeared up to the other end of Brick Lane to go get beigels. Mmmmm.

I realise I've only been back in a shitty 9-5 office job like - what, ten days or something? - but I do relish the days of freedom. Office jobs suck. If only freelancing was financially sustainable [big words].

they rawk we bankroll

Having drinks & dinner with rockstars/producers/Dior models & Chanel muses is a guaranteed way to feel like Plain Jane 2006.

But hurrah for new projects!

On that note: I started a new temp gig today [finally] - it's to do with caring for old people [in an admin capacity] and there are whole filing cabinets labelled "R.I.P."

Oh no, this job isn't even the slightest bit depressing...