Friday night, out to see a band. Who claimed they were on at 8, but weren't there until 11.30. In Camden's G-Lounge. Which was almost empty. Though it had enough people that I couldn't sit at one of the tables. Nursing a half of blackcurrant. That cost me £1.50. And was nearly half syrup. But the barperson wouldn't pour it into a pint glass and top-up with water. Because they don't have pints. Though there was one sitting upside down on the bar. But "We're not allowed use that". They wouldn't split it into two halves and top-up those, either. After several attempts to get them to consider the idea. And it didn't taste too bad. Tasted worse by the end of the glass, though. In the Camden G-Lounge. Looked down-on by pictures and art prints of Tony Montana. As played by Al Pacino. While the DJ played Cake's cover of "I Will Survive". In 2006. And it's a Love Music Hate Racism gig. So I've given them my money already, but I'd like to give them my support. So I must remain. In the Camden G-Lounge. Yeah, moving to London's working out fiiine.
Saturday was better, went out allotmenting with (deep breath) dogrando, uon, katstevens, marnameow, mrs_leroy_brown and sbp, which involved cycling to the Bermondsey, setting off down Hemingford Road, thinking "This is a lovely day for it! Sun beaming down, wind in my hair, my hair... b0ll0cks, where've I left my helmet?". And then actual gardening, in my case this being the watering can, and then off to a greasy spoon to lard up, stopping on the way at the Co-op to debate the curate's egg that is Now 54, some sitting around back at Marna and Sean's house, then Brotherhood of the Wolf Doctor Who, cycle back, and out again to The Phoenix, to see some ILX friends and buy my first round for a long time, and later laugh at the futility of repectable people trying to get into smalltown-nightclub-in-the-big-city Strawberry Moons. Much better.
Today: sod all. Firefly/comics/Oblivion is the plan, and hopefully hopefully an early night before the new job tomorrow.
Edit: I should make it clearer, to reduce heart attacks in my Dublin friends, that I went back for my helmet immediately upon noticing its absence.