Despite being very sleepy after our afternoon deep chill, I met a friend in a heaving and uncomfortable Leicester Square. We grabbed a salad and corn muffin from the cafe in the brightly-painted oasis Neal's Yard and then watched the movie We Don't Live Here Anymore, in which two couples commit adultery with each other with such dispassionate and intellectual coolness that the film ultimately makes for a rather bland and unengaging viewing. As Roger Ebert opines, "we yearn for more edge, cruelty, psychological wounding, slashing sarcasm, sadistic button-pushing". Afterwards, we ate ice-cream in Soho and caught up on each other's lives.
Tonight, more catching up will be had when a group of us who had all studied together at Oxford will gather for dinner. More wine, more beer, more food, more chilling. I love the Summer.