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Aug. 9th, 2005
I came home, soaked a sponge with fairy liquid, wiped the bathtub, lit a camomile candle, filled a glass with cold water, turned off the light, locked the door, took off my clothes, turned on the tap, poured Body Shop coconut soap into the water, took a crap, felt the heater burn me up, cleaned up, got inside, submerged, throbed like a burst blood vessel, and heared the boiler on the other side of the wall hum like a trapped Darth Vader.
Now I'm out, just in shorts, letting my warm body readjust to the room's temperature. The Editors are on the stereo, Sissy Jennifer is her bedroom, Kevin & Sissy Allison are at a kickboxing class, and the evening unfortunately looks too short.
I was introduced today to an Irish man who spends half of the week in Cork, and half of the week at the NT. People at my work had been talking behind my back about how Kevin & I are looking into moving out of London (Cork is our latest target for next Summer) and someone pointed me in the direction of this man. We sat at the National Theatre's fourth floor and talked for an hour about Cork: job market, rent, crime, how gay-friendly it is, the size of the city, etc. He was incredibly nice, to the point where he offered to keep in touch and help out with more tips when it gets closer to our move. Looks like the wheels have been set in motion and the Brasilian circus will be leaving town sometime next Summer.
But, never fret mes amis Gothiques! Flights from Cork to London during the week are about 40 quid! And this is to Heathrow, which means I'll have plenty of chances to come back for visits. Yes, I can hear you all say that I never go out and I live in London, but maybe the heart grows fonder with distance? I dunno... it's up to you to send me loads of cyberhugs and convince me it's worth my while to finally attend Slimelights.
The plan for tonight is to continue work on the random short-story exercise. I'm having a lot of fun with it.
Now I'm out, just in shorts, letting my warm body readjust to the room's temperature. The Editors are on the stereo, Sissy Jennifer is her bedroom, Kevin & Sissy Allison are at a kickboxing class, and the evening unfortunately looks too short.
I was introduced today to an Irish man who spends half of the week in Cork, and half of the week at the NT. People at my work had been talking behind my back about how Kevin & I are looking into moving out of London (Cork is our latest target for next Summer) and someone pointed me in the direction of this man. We sat at the National Theatre's fourth floor and talked for an hour about Cork: job market, rent, crime, how gay-friendly it is, the size of the city, etc. He was incredibly nice, to the point where he offered to keep in touch and help out with more tips when it gets closer to our move. Looks like the wheels have been set in motion and the Brasilian circus will be leaving town sometime next Summer.
But, never fret mes amis Gothiques! Flights from Cork to London during the week are about 40 quid! And this is to Heathrow, which means I'll have plenty of chances to come back for visits. Yes, I can hear you all say that I never go out and I live in London, but maybe the heart grows fonder with distance? I dunno... it's up to you to send me loads of cyberhugs and convince me it's worth my while to finally attend Slimelights.
The plan for tonight is to continue work on the random short-story exercise. I'm having a lot of fun with it.
