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Jun. 16th, 2003 05:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liadnanYes, from the people who brought you "God I'm bored" and "Really bored now", it's time for a new blockbuster, "What I did this weekend"...
Friday night.. buggerall. And Buffy's finished, so there wasn't even any good excuse for staying in. I so badly need to not be single anymore.
Saturday, went to Borough Market briefly, then to a street party type thing in Soho. Which was fab actually. Managed to get sunburnt, but I tend to count that as a plus.
At some point in the afternoon I found myself sitting on the next table to Chris Evans and Billie, who were singing along to "Lambeth Walk" and similar. No. I wasn't doing the same. Honest.
Anyway, I live in Primrose Hill and see celebs who haven't fallen to the Z list all the time (well, Jude Law mainly), so it was more amusing than anything else...
Wandered back home and called in at the local fair-type-thing before heading back down to Camden for Joff's birthday. And here a bizarre thing happened, for a friend of Joff's turned out to be someone I had been quite good friends with in my dim and distant schooldays, but hadn't seen for at least 12 years.
Never quite sure how to deal with this kind of encounter...
Discussed plans for The Novel with Joff. Decided that we couldn't face doing anything else with it at present and would wait and see what the agent has to say or manages to do with it. Getting an agent is something of a triumph in itself these days, particularly getting a good one, but if I'm being honest I have to admit that the fact she is one of my closest friends from UCL quite possibly has something to do with it...
Sunday was theoretically set aside for tidying the flat, as is traditional. As is traditional, it didn't get done. My excuse was that it would be positively immoral to waste a fantastically hot weekend by springcleaning, so I sauntered up the hill and finished The Master and Margarita, then went on to Instances of the Number 3.
And thus passed Sunday. With the aid, later, of 24 and Six Feet Under.
The result was that this morning I woke up with the realisation that I hadn't done loads of practical things I had meant to... so I took the morning off to do them. After leisurely breakfast in the creperie type place...
I do like being self-employed.
Am pissed off with bank, they are pissing me around. Not financially so, more in a kind of customer service and lack thereof kind of way. Am seriously considering telling the person I shall go and see tomorrow that I plan to take my overdraft elsewhere.
Just been reading over old entries... you know, I do have thoughts about things of substance. Sometimes. Honest. Just don't get around to actually writing them very often...
Memo to self: just for once I will actually get home in time for Angel tonight.
Friday night.. buggerall. And Buffy's finished, so there wasn't even any good excuse for staying in. I so badly need to not be single anymore.
Saturday, went to Borough Market briefly, then to a street party type thing in Soho. Which was fab actually. Managed to get sunburnt, but I tend to count that as a plus.
At some point in the afternoon I found myself sitting on the next table to Chris Evans and Billie, who were singing along to "Lambeth Walk" and similar. No. I wasn't doing the same. Honest.
Anyway, I live in Primrose Hill and see celebs who haven't fallen to the Z list all the time (well, Jude Law mainly), so it was more amusing than anything else...
Wandered back home and called in at the local fair-type-thing before heading back down to Camden for Joff's birthday. And here a bizarre thing happened, for a friend of Joff's turned out to be someone I had been quite good friends with in my dim and distant schooldays, but hadn't seen for at least 12 years.
Never quite sure how to deal with this kind of encounter...
Discussed plans for The Novel with Joff. Decided that we couldn't face doing anything else with it at present and would wait and see what the agent has to say or manages to do with it. Getting an agent is something of a triumph in itself these days, particularly getting a good one, but if I'm being honest I have to admit that the fact she is one of my closest friends from UCL quite possibly has something to do with it...
Sunday was theoretically set aside for tidying the flat, as is traditional. As is traditional, it didn't get done. My excuse was that it would be positively immoral to waste a fantastically hot weekend by springcleaning, so I sauntered up the hill and finished The Master and Margarita, then went on to Instances of the Number 3.
And thus passed Sunday. With the aid, later, of 24 and Six Feet Under.
The result was that this morning I woke up with the realisation that I hadn't done loads of practical things I had meant to... so I took the morning off to do them. After leisurely breakfast in the creperie type place...
I do like being self-employed.
Am pissed off with bank, they are pissing me around. Not financially so, more in a kind of customer service and lack thereof kind of way. Am seriously considering telling the person I shall go and see tomorrow that I plan to take my overdraft elsewhere.
Just been reading over old entries... you know, I do have thoughts about things of substance. Sometimes. Honest. Just don't get around to actually writing them very often...
Memo to self: just for once I will actually get home in time for Angel tonight.
Re:
Date: 2003-06-18 02:26 am (UTC)Actually, no it was a friend in Notts who was the guilty party.