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I went yesterday to my first (and only?) Christmas party this year. It took place in London's Southeast, supposedly near a maximum security prison, where the government has permission to shoot down any flying objects above it. The house in question stood quietly near a park, not too far from Plumstead Station. When I got off the train, I bumped into The Gay American. We walked together to the house, past Nee Naws and desolate subway paths.
There was enough food in the party to feed a troop of monkeys (or of escaped prisoners.) The hosts, Rosie and Steve, had mellow Christmas songs going, malt beer boiling and plenty of Pound Stretcher gifts to make everyone happy. More guests arrived after me, games were played, an entire bottle of screwtop red wine was drunk (by yours truly), and many many slices of carrots chewed. I managed to win a set of candles, which is fortunate since I think Suzi had planned all along for me to have them.
Suddenly, like all goth parties go, people had dropped their manners and were singing along to *Heart* at the top of their lungs. Suzi and I retired to the sofa underneath the stairs and gossiped, which seems like something we always do in parties nowadays. Paper hats were worn, pictures snapped, but thankfully everyone kept Christmas' spirit in mind and didn't expose their genitals to the room (at least while I was there). Bedrooms remained safely off limits for Lesbian shenanigans, windows remained locked against daredevils and nobody tried to crash the party despite the front door being left open for some fresh air.
Around 11:45, Suzi, myself and Aden left the party and caught a bus to Greenwich North tube. Plans were made for a future goth excursion to Brasil, where I'll be able to take everyone to Sao Paulo's one and only goth club Madame Sata, as well as the beach and my mom's farm (where the goths will be able to pet my mom's cows and horses, and breathe some good Brasilian fresh air.)
I gave my quick goodbyes to Aden and Suzi and ran to catch the last Jubilee train heading west. To my drunken shock, as I walked into the carriage I spotted Doris sitting down with some people. Doris was the first girl I became friends with when I was 17 years old and had just moved to Hong Kong. During my first weeks in high school, she sat with me in the canteen, as well as in homeroom, and was basically that friend we all have before we naturally find the crowd who will turn out to be our real friends. I did the shitty thing and dumped Doris, though we always remained in good terms -- even after she moved away to London, to a private school, but came back to Hong Kong on holidays and dated sailors. I remember going to a football match with Doris and one of her sailors -- a guy whose dream was to be a hairdresser (!?) -- and having a really good time. Years went by and I lost touch with her... so yeah, she was in the Tube last night... and I completely avoided her. I was tired, drunk, and she looked different, with her hair long and dyed blonde. But it was her. She got off at Green Park station and walked away without looking back.
There was enough food in the party to feed a troop of monkeys (or of escaped prisoners.) The hosts, Rosie and Steve, had mellow Christmas songs going, malt beer boiling and plenty of Pound Stretcher gifts to make everyone happy. More guests arrived after me, games were played, an entire bottle of screwtop red wine was drunk (by yours truly), and many many slices of carrots chewed. I managed to win a set of candles, which is fortunate since I think Suzi had planned all along for me to have them.
Suddenly, like all goth parties go, people had dropped their manners and were singing along to *Heart* at the top of their lungs. Suzi and I retired to the sofa underneath the stairs and gossiped, which seems like something we always do in parties nowadays. Paper hats were worn, pictures snapped, but thankfully everyone kept Christmas' spirit in mind and didn't expose their genitals to the room (at least while I was there). Bedrooms remained safely off limits for Lesbian shenanigans, windows remained locked against daredevils and nobody tried to crash the party despite the front door being left open for some fresh air.
Around 11:45, Suzi, myself and Aden left the party and caught a bus to Greenwich North tube. Plans were made for a future goth excursion to Brasil, where I'll be able to take everyone to Sao Paulo's one and only goth club Madame Sata, as well as the beach and my mom's farm (where the goths will be able to pet my mom's cows and horses, and breathe some good Brasilian fresh air.)
I gave my quick goodbyes to Aden and Suzi and ran to catch the last Jubilee train heading west. To my drunken shock, as I walked into the carriage I spotted Doris sitting down with some people. Doris was the first girl I became friends with when I was 17 years old and had just moved to Hong Kong. During my first weeks in high school, she sat with me in the canteen, as well as in homeroom, and was basically that friend we all have before we naturally find the crowd who will turn out to be our real friends. I did the shitty thing and dumped Doris, though we always remained in good terms -- even after she moved away to London, to a private school, but came back to Hong Kong on holidays and dated sailors. I remember going to a football match with Doris and one of her sailors -- a guy whose dream was to be a hairdresser (!?) -- and having a really good time. Years went by and I lost touch with her... so yeah, she was in the Tube last night... and I completely avoided her. I was tired, drunk, and she looked different, with her hair long and dyed blonde. But it was her. She got off at Green Park station and walked away without looking back.
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on 2005-12-04 01:59 pm (UTC)\m/ \m/
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on 2005-12-05 07:59 pm (UTC)I much prefer the late 80s Heart to the 70s Heart, I'm afraid.
God, I'm lame. I'm not even cool in which period of uncool bands I like.
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on 2005-12-04 08:50 pm (UTC)That's my absolute favorite one. And there it is on the internet in its brief, majestic entirety!
Here's another one, but it's got a typo.
http://web.ics.purdue.edu/~conreys/101files/Otherfolders/Hillslikewhitepg.html
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on 2005-12-04 06:47 pm (UTC)O mundo realmente é pequeno...eu estudei um ano no Canadá e fiz amizade com um mexicano de Guadalajara. Quando voltei pro Brasil e comecei a fazer cursinho, conjheci uma mexicana, de Guadalajara que era muito amiga do Paulo, meu amigo mexicano! Muito louco! Não existe a teoria de que estamos separados por 6...ou algo assim???
Não era vc que conhece uma pessoa que estudou na Escuela del Sol, o Ricardo, se não me engano. Acho que não conheço, mas com certeza ele deve conhecer algumas pessoas que eu estudei lá...
É muito louco pensar nisso!!
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on 2005-12-04 08:21 pm (UTC)Hey there, just curious...
on 2005-12-05 12:24 pm (UTC)seems like weird things happen in London, so many people pass through on the way to somewhere else... or end up staying a while... it's so huge and there are so many people here, it's a bit of a mecca... you can go for weeks without seeing anyone you recognise, then bump into people you knew in another place and time... you briefly connect with thousands of people you will never see again... and then you happen to sit down in the same carriage of the same tube train as a phantom from a past life... I suppose its not really that different to any other big city, but that sense of transience seems heightened to me here somehow...
what do you think of london?
Re: Hey there, just curious...
on 2005-12-05 03:11 pm (UTC)I love going for walks in London and observing the life around me. Sometimes, I'll let myself wander for just an hour and, without a doubt, I witness a couple of unexpected and sometimes amusing events in that time period. When I stay at home during the weekends, I feel restless and unhappy, as if I didn't "use" the city as much as I should or could.
use the city...
on 2005-12-05 06:08 pm (UTC)what about the idea that because its a crossroads there are a lot of people here that are only going to be here short term: how many people are here forever? how many just come for a while then move on? how long does it take to feel at home in london? i feel like there are a lot of places that are initially more welcoming but that once you spend a while here it starts to suck you in and it grows on you over time...
Re: use the city...
on 2005-12-06 05:39 pm (UTC)I'm an example of that. I moved here four years ago with my boyfriend, but we always knew it was temporary. We might be moving to Canada next Summer, if all goes to plan.
How long have you been in London?
london
on 2005-12-11 10:14 pm (UTC)where did you come from originally? whats the deal with canada? sounds like an attractive prospect from what ive heard... would that be a permanent thing? i know ppl from there and ppl moving there and ppl living there at the moment... well of course
where's yr BF from; same as you or somewhere else?
im still wondering if london is a place you can live in permanently... i dont know many people that have always lived here but my housemate(he's english) assures me that they do exist and that there are people who love it and want to stay here forever...
Re: london
on 2005-12-13 04:19 pm (UTC)El mundo es un pañuelo
on 2005-12-06 06:40 am (UTC)If you get the chance again, would you like to catch up where you left off with her?
Did you hear or read about the Democracy march in HK?
Congrats on the new job by the way, working for the Goth tourist board and all. ; P
.... where the goths will be able to pet my mum's cows and horses *tickled*
Re: El mundo es un pañuelo
on 2005-12-06 05:35 pm (UTC)Re: El mundo es un pañuelo
on 2005-12-06 05:52 pm (UTC)http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/4496556.stm
We got caught up with a conga of protesters near Lockhart road, last year. There was everybody from workers to families with little ones and grandparents who looked like they didn't know really what was going on and would have probably been happier at home. Yet it was peaceful, for a forceful march.
Re: El mundo es un pañuelo
on 2005-12-07 10:34 am (UTC)Re: El mundo es un pañuelo
on 2005-12-07 10:36 am (UTC)