Things continue to happen.
I had a more or less unscripted visit to London, which involved doing some very dull work, and wishing I could spend every lunchtime on a deck chair in Green Park. Not only did I have a very pleasant Marks and Sparks lunch, and listen to The Style Council in their Paris Match phase, but two young women appeared in front of my patch, stripped to their underwear and rubbed each other with oil. As a full reconstructed new man, I applauded their right to self-expression and only ogled from one eye.
I went to see Pirates of the Caribbean 1.5, and discovered that you the Odeon in Leicester Square manages a good line in piracy, or at least highway robbery, if you want to have the best seats in the house. Which I do. Very nice Moroccan food in Greek Street, and a nice stroll in the evening. Some days I can almost understand why people would want to live in London.
I flew back quite late on Tuesday from Gatwick, which meant I had time to hook up with K and Frankie. After a comedy of errors we ended up meeting at the Chez Gerard at Victoria, which is actually quite a nice place to meet, if sadly lacking in air-conditioning. Frankie overcame this with ingenious (if not lascivious) use of ice-cubes, while I achieved the same affect with the best part of two bottles of Alsace. I won’t say I was drunk on the way to the aiport, but I certainly had a pleasant buzz on. Evenings like that remind me why I’m so inordinately fond of K, and I look forward to dragging him around a golf course soon, with or without Julia Roberts.
I’d like to take some time to talk about things that are bubbling under at the moment, but until my subconscious is finished with them, I’ll just leave it at a list of things I’m mulling over:
Is this the best time to be thinking of visiting Egypt
I need to start writing fiction again
I must change jobs. Soon.
Will someone (Mike Cobley, maybe?) have a review in this weekend’s Guardian, making it three in a row for the Glasgow SF Writers Workshop?