Want to see People, Want to see Life

Spring has arrived in London. It has been sunny and warm for the past two days, and the goodness shows no sign of abating. Part of me wants to find a rock, anywhere beyond the road, lie on it and feel the blue ray-specs. My other side wants to hang out indoors, in stained pyjamas, away from the front door.

Groceries have to be purchased. So I've asked Kevin if he wants to go for a coffee. There's a good place near Queen's Park Tube, just by the library. You sit around a big wooden table, with other strangers and their sobbing babies, drinking over-priced organic coffee. Life feels good and you try to avoid the newspaper headlines, read more about celebrities. One can never get enough of celebrities. They are living the life that we should be living. They are sucking the life out of us. Let's start worshipping... Mini Me.

No big plans for the weekend. Have a good one, everyone. And stop holding back on yourselves. If you want to kill, stick in the knife all the way. If you want to kiss, open your mouth and swallow the spit. If you want to laugh, get yourself a copy of the Royal family's biography.

(no subject)

Heart FM are playing a great selection of funk and disco from the 70s... if you can check them out from the net, do it!

Ah... makes me want to go out dancing. slave2dafunk, we have to find that mythical club to dance every weekend. Just give me a relaxed crowd, not-so-pricy drinks, a few comfy couches, good ventilation, and eye candy. Is that too much to ask?

Silke came home clutching a copy of "Sweet Sixteen" and the Breeders penultimate album. Sales at Tower Records. My bank account couldn't handle a shopping spree tomorrow. I don't even want to know what's up for discount sale.

Beware, Rant Ahead

We ended up not going to that fancy shmancy coffee shop. Instead, we went to... Starbucks! Oh Uh... I know someone who is not going to be happy with me! But really, it is right beside the supermarket, in between the car park and the canal.

You say: perfect location! You can see the sky, the geese, the people who live on boats because they can't afford housing in London.

I say: manager, turn up the Chet Baker! And get the dirty pensioner with the empty trolley out fo here! She's killing the mood!

Then, to add to the horror, Kevin and I dressed in identical outfits and brought our journals with us. We sat there, writing while drinking our Latte (for myself) and Hot Chocolate (for him) while a couple of hags with bad hair-dye jobs looked at us. They must have thought they were looking at the next Judith Krantz and Sidney Sheldon... when in fact they were looking at us looking at them looking at the car park and thinking:

When was I ever in a Starbucks not beside a car park? Never.

Thus, never going back. Can't stand the fumes. In a perfect society, all households would be allowed only one car. I don't care if mother has to go to the gym and father has to go to work. Figure something out. Buy a bike. Just don't cluster our space anymore with these monstrosities...