For dinner, I met up with a group of people for a friend's birthday at Clapham Junction's charming, cosy and pretty Fish in a Tie restaurant. I had a starter of asparagus wrapped in smoked salmon, a main dish of hot seafood salad -- hot baby squid, king prawns, mussels, salmon and monkfish on a bed of raw spinach -- and a dessert of refreshing watermelon.
Conversation meandered from speed-dating (would we, wouldn't we) and travel plans (hiking in Provence, cycling in the Cotswolds, luxuriating in Thailand) to New Labour versus Old Labour (our generation versus our parents'), Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes ("What are they doing together?" "He freaks me out." "She's good for him." "His teeth are too big." "Mid-life crisis and sugar daddy syndrome.") and The Economist's online presence (a good number of techies among us).
My friend may have just turned 28, feeling rather old, and noticing wrinkles around her eyes that are not there, but she looked truly amazing under the gilt-edged mirrors, candlelight and glowing chandeliers.
Then, at the end of the evening, my honey, who is in Madrid for a week, texted me to say he had just eaten a huge plate of king prawns, langoustines and crab for dinner. I think I would have been rather jealous were it not for the remarkably fishy day I'd had myself.
Right, it's nearly 7pm on a Saturday and I'm just leaving the office after an intense but productive day of work. Gonna crawl into my bed with some fluffy literature, Heat magazine, and a big bag of Peking Spare Rib & Five Spice-flavoured crackers. I really feel like being a slob tonight.
PS: The layout of the lefthand column -- with my listening, reading and watching lists -- has skewed. I have no idea what Typepad have done. Something fishy perhaps. Hopefully it will be sorted out by tomorrow's end.