Saturday, February 24, 2007

I have been full of poorly-sickness.
It seems I'm totes prone to the poorlies. Rude.
I won't subject you to the details, I told Chevverchops all about it on the phone earlier this week and completely grossed her out. Apparently, there's a line you don't cross when talking 'bout bodily functions with your pals, who knew?

Luckily, I dosed up on ickster medication and made it to the Londinium. Phew
Now I love the Londinium, but I have to take props from Lola when it comes to hitting the big smoke on my own.
Sssh, don't tell anyone, but it freaks me out.
Which is why I fake it 'til I make it.
Every time.

On my train journey I start by playin' out how great the day will be, how I will rock any situation, how confident I will be, how I will have cool convo's with the Londinium types like a movie, starring me, in my head.
I then play my theme tune - Girl Power by Shampoo - on my ipod, it makes me feel totes feisty, fun, fearless and fabulous.
Then, like the chocolate icing on a yummy cupcake, I put all my GCSE drama classes to good use, step off the train and rock out the super-hero version of me.
All the cool kids do it, Mariah, Beyonce...now me.
I pull my shoulders back, walk tall and with a slick of hot pink YSL lipstick - v.on-trend according to Grazia magazine y'know - I imagine I'm a super-cool cross between mucho successful author-girl and Gwen Stefani, and work it.
The best thing?
It works.

The dinner was yumsville - I ate a guinea fowl.
I was totes convinced it was going to be a guinea pig, but ed-girl and agent lady who have both ate plenty of funny-named food in their time because they do a lot of swanky eating in publishing assured me it was like a small chicken, I like chicken so I ordered it.
It was a complete food adventure for me.
Turns out, I love me the guinea fowl. Mmmmm.
We talked all things Lola - ohmystars, it's going to be exciting chicas, we spoke New York - ed-girl is off in a couple of weeks, it was all I could do to stop myself curling up in her flight bag in the hope she'd take me with her - and we even spoke Britney...all of us came to the conclusion that someone should be blimmin' lookin' after her, not letting her life be played out like some bad, bad reality TV programme...

It seems the icky belly wasn't totally better and I missed my train home. Boo.
I got the next one, slept the whole way listening to 'Gossip' - new fave band alert - so good, and then rushed straight to the pub to meet my Singstar buds, Vix Martin and Adam - there was a lot of high-fiving, more stories of NYC from Martinez who is just back from the big apple, is it me or is everyone getting to hang out in my favourite city apart from me? and lots of giggling - we are officially the very best people at giggling. That's factuality.

Today, I bought bed-linen.
Y'see, one day schmoozin' in Londinium, the next, borin' snorin' grown up who has to buy blimmin' bed linen.

I'm now off to watch Dancing on Ice, that's if The Man isn't hogging the remote. He doesn't enjoy my love of Duncan James, can't imagine why? ;)

No comments: