Diary – Sunday 28 July 2002

Another lazy morning, with the juicer coming into its own for breakfast on the terrace. Off out again in to gorgeous weather, aussie style skirt and t-shirt weather in fact, and north to Regent’s Park to see what Indian Summer had to offer.

Only the Cricket it transpired’. So we stretched out in the shade of one of the trees for an hour and chatted some more before walking on to Camden Town, bussing back to Euston and tubing to TCR. Thence to the British Museum ‘ and after an irritated interlude resulting from out-of-service toilets, long queues in smelly subterranean substitutes and my nearby favourite the Museum Café not being open, we explored the Great Court (with camera this time!) and (re)visited their temporary exhibition of North Vietnamese posters from the Vietnamese War.

Our flight on the London Eye was booked for 5.30pm, and after collecting tickets we queued in the shadow of the Eye in between a denim-clad extended family of eastern European origin, and an asian family with telltale brummie accents. Once aboard, our capsule companions included a holidaying American group, and the glamorous eastern Europeans.

A quarter of the way round, vertigo struck. It was the fourth time I’d been on the wheel, and I’d spent the weekend telling Catriona that the capsules cater for those without a head for heights and looking forward to taking some birds-eye photos of London. And there I was, gripping the bench with white knuckles staring at the floor, in a panic-driven and panic-stricken attempt to rationalise away my fears. Fears that the wheel would topple into the Thames; that the pod would become detached and plummet into the river, leaving us in a submarine tomb; that someone would fall through the entry/exit doors.

Only once we’d passed the zenith did the panic start to wane, but it was the longest 45 minutes I’ve endured for a while – yes, 45 mins, 15 minutes longer than the standard flight due to numerous halts to allow for the embarkation and disembarkation of less able passengers.

Waved goodbye to Catriona at Waterloo, hoping she’d not encounter and glitches taking the bakerloo line as far as Marylebone. SMSed phil to alert him to my likely tardy arrival chez moi, but still had 20 mins for a swift swoop into Sainsbury’s for supplies and a cooling off shower.

Lovely evening with TLP, aperitif-ing on last night’s left over bhajis, black olives and crisps out on the terrace, before munching on chilli pasta with veggies in front of the Frontier House, then moving onto strawberries with The West Wing and balancing out the disappointment of the Big Brother’s Little Brother award ceremony with the remaining two squares of Millionaires Shortbread, finishing off with the scary ‘evil is a virus’ X Files. Very relieved Phil stayed over to protect me

Diary – Saturday 27 July 2002

Lazy morning Saturday, uninspired to stir too swiftly out into the overcast day. However, upon emerging to make our way to Spitalfields to mooch the markets, we discovered too late that it was actually a warm day, with the promise of warmer hours to come. Disappointment awaited in Spitalfields where the range of market stalls was even less than the weekday offering, and we’d not got enough time to squeeze in the Geffrye Museum before we were due to meet Catriona’s friend Helen.

The three of us adjourned to St Botolph’s churchyard with drinks and chippies from Tesco Metro before Helen headed onto a housewarming and C and I returned to the terrace for a cup of tea and Sainsbury’s scots version of millionaire’s shortbread. Yum. Phoned Jean to chat and to wish her Happy Birthday for tomorrow – thank heaven’s for Interflora!

Plans to venture north to Regent’s park for the weekend’s Indian Summer extravaganza courtesy of Channel 4, drawn in particular by the promise of Monsoon Wedding on the big screen, were abandoned in favour of a food foray to Asda and renting Monsoon Wedding from my local Hollywood Video store. Plans changed again en route as we opted for an Indian take away, and later on again when my eye-conomy prize winner’s DVD player refused to function. Luckily Saturday evening TV sufficed, and featured some coverage of the Big Brother grand finale.

Diary – Friday 26 July 2002

Catriona came to stay this weekend. The original plan had been for Hazel and I to co-host, with maybe a night out at schooldisco to relive old Wayward times, but JPM

Here in Blighty, Catriona appeared outside CityPoint around 5.30pm (Fri) and we headed over to Holborn on the tube. After explaining a bitter shandy to an antipodean barmaid, and dining speedily at Strada, we raced to the Albery, where we were snuck into the stalls via the tardis-like telephone booth. Actually, more of a Lion/Witch/Wardrobe wardrobe… We were at the Benefactors, by Michael Frayn. An interesting play, a main theme pertinent to London’s propertied and unpropertied masses. Neither of us could work out who the taller of the two male actors was, and I had to confess to not recognising the woman who’d been in The Vicar of Dibley. Actually, there’s no reason why I should have recognised her, not having ever watched or wished to watch tVoD!!

Diary – Thursday 25 july 2002

It’s funny how some days I find myself on a roller coaster ride of emotions. Beware, on occasions such as these, I tend to render volumes of cliche-ridden, self obsessed angst.

I enjoyed an upbeat walk into work, stopping off at Tesco Metro for Chelsea Buns which I shared with Lucy. Thankfully Maurice was out of the office on a Golf Day (cue tirade about perks for the boys), so we ahd our BSA space to ourselves. Most days I can let Maurice wash over me; today wouldn’t have been one of them.

Oh nothing’s gone wrong in any definite instance, i’m just feeling a bit fed up I suppose. In fact, things went swimmingly until about 30 mins ago when I encountered the blythe “sorry, time for me to go home” unhelpfulness of one of the IT Helpdesk, who’d spent the preceeding 10 minutes ignoring me and chatting with her mates. The facts that a) I needed her help on a trivial “where’s the cable” matter, and b) it’s to download photos from my canon Ixus don’t really help matters, because my need was not work related. but it’s still left me feeling irrationally aggrieved with the world. But writing about it is making me feel better, getting it out of my system, getting things in perspective.

I suspect a little of my irriration stems from the fact that i’monly 30 pages through my 59 page scanning report, and I need to have proof-read and edited it into final form for Chris and Peter tomorrow.

I.am.so.bored.of.this.project.

but i can’t go until it’s done, and I’m meeting Phil by Holborn at 9pm, so I’d better get cracking.

p.s. Good Things about today:

– chelsea buns
– lunch with michele
– booking flights on the London Eye for Catriona and I for this Sunday (yes, there *will* be pictures!)
– trimming all the yellow leaves off my Tesco Green Quality Plant (a lily I think) which were the sorry result of my failure to give it sufficient water for the weekend.