Last night, browsing through magazines (Scientific American, Utne, Burn and Heat) and people-watching in Borders; wondering why all the Liverpool fans were chanting in Trafalgar Square at 6:30pm ("Have they lost their way?"); demolishing a hot Peri-Peri roast chicken and lemon cheesecake at Nandos; watching the last few minutes of the Chelsea v. Liverpool game on the street through a pub window; wandering past Buckingham Palace and down along Millbank wondering why St James' Park stays open all night ("Do they all stay open in central London?", and ahem hoping to catch a bit of action watching two guys walking through the park in the pitch dark) and which building is which (MI5, MI6?); flicking through Wired and Time Out magazines, curled up on the bed, sipping wild berry tea.
Tonight, savouring a juicy fruit salad (courtesy of M&S) for dinner; enjoying Rhys Ifans' creepy performance in Enduring Love on DVD; finally booking the Caravaggio show online; sinking into a rose-scented bubble bath, surrounded by candles; and now, after writing this, taking a novel to bed to fill my head with other worlds, other lives as I fall asleep...
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