there is not much to tell. i cannot sleep, i miss you. i thought maybe i will write a little.
did i mention i saw the dirty three [warren ellis' band] last year in december? well, i did [at the queen elizabeth hall] and they were amazing. each song was a journey and just when you think the dirty three have taken you to breaking point and they will have to relent and release soon, they push and push until your brain explodes from intensity. that is what it felt like. w ellis likes to tell a nice long story before each song, he swears a lot, is not afraid of the occasional high leg kick, and can shred a violin.
a few thursdays ago i went to a games night at the bethnal green working men's club with my friend, david. it was true old-school fun with a memory test [you look into a diorama for ten seconds then record the items you see], bingo [i won the full house and walked away with an inflatable pink guitar, score], dry cracker eating contest [david came second, he lost by one cracker], hula hoop competition [if jonathon were here he would have shamed everyone with his hula hips], and karaoke. i know, how twee! but trust me, the silliness was infectious and you would have gotten greedy for prizes too.
r gave me his spare flat keys so i could check in every once in awhile to make sure he had not been robbed while away on vacation. i spent twenty minutes trying to get his pay tv to work with zero success, read his magazines, and used his oven to heat up frozen pizzas. the highlight of checking r's apartment was this conversation i had with a stranger at the local supermarket. there i am standing in front of the bananas when a man [mid-30s, a bit lonely-looking like he might still live at home with his mother] touches me on the arm. i turn to him.
"sorry, i do not mean to bother you, but what is the difference?"
"what do you mean?"
"which is better, these [points to yellow bananas] or these [green bananas]?"
"well you can eat the yellow ones straight away but you will have to wait for the green ones to ripen."
"so yellow is better?"
"if you want to eat them now..."
i take some yellow ones and he asks to see the ones i have chosen so i show him.
"my name is angel, what is yours?"
"olivia."
"oh that is a classical name."
we shake hands.
"i would give you my number but i have forgotten it."
"umm okay."
"if i see you again, i will give it to you."
"okay."
i bid him a good night and walk away. i love it that he would give me his number but has forgotten it. it was a strange exchange but there was something in that line that struck me, like he was sorry for me he could not remember his number, like it was my loss. i guess it was humbling.
christmas was spent with chris and his family near cambridge. chris did not cry when i gave him his hand-made stocking filled with presents but that is okay. it is a bit much to expect a grown man to cry in front of his parents over a christmas present.
chris gave me a beautiful red briefcase that once belonged to someone with the initials b h d that is pretty much a portable writing desk. when the case opens, the lid is compartmentalised to carry envelopes, writing paper, pens, and a calender. the bottom half is covered by a piece of thick cardboard that acts as a writing surface and it lifts up to reveal a compartment for, umm, stuff. he filled the case with little presents. i felt very spoilt. all we did at c's parents' house was open presents, eat, drink, watch tv, play boardgames [lots and lots of backgammon! look out, bahbak!], coo over his six-week-old niece, and make conversation with family passing in and out. i thought it would be weird to do the christmas thing with the family of someone who has been my boyfriend for only three months, but it was strangely comforting.
chris and his punch-out elephant [part of the magical menagerie by junzo terada].it is almost 3am. goodnight! and happy new year! we can continue this tomorrow. with pictures!
love
o
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