Cock-a-hula-hoop!

Morning world :o)

So I have made a resolution to update this thing at least once a week. Because it's actually fun to go back and see what I was doing at this time last year (TEH MADNESS of Anissa the Bosnian pregnant lady!). And I do have a certain flair for the written medium, n'est-ce pas?

Coupled with the fact that Kay from the Pinkies (HELLO PETAL) was berating me in no uncertain terms for not keeping the thing up-to-date.

You must understand, my life is so very full, darling, that I just can't possibly take the time out of my busy schedule (or masturbation) to fill this in!

OK. Since last I splurged on virtual paper...

*Lynne and Annie from the choir got married
This was a total riot. Lynne basically is the powerhouse behind the choir's organisation. She is also a star. And I am also helping her with her pain troubles, via hypnotherapy. She lives with Annie. They got civilly-partnered last Friday, and the Pinkies were there in force to serenade them. Me and the supremely talented Carol, Tanya and Gill also performed a wee song for them, as our collective, 'Something Fishy'. Twas v well received. Ended up in the 2 Brewers with Miranda from Altos trying to make me talk to a stranger whom I liked the look of. And me saying "I'm out of my comfort zone here, Miranda!'. I then stayed over with lovely Andrew 'Sandra-Sue' Davies and his partner Jamie in Clapham so that I could go to...

*Brussels last Saturday
After 3 1/2 hours sleep and the insane acceptance of a vodka and tonic at 4.30 am, I got the Eurostar to BXL (my favourite city ever) on Sat morning. It was so nice to have a hangover AND an emergency evacuation of Waterloo station at the same time! I was going to BXL to see lovely Greek Anna and her friend lovely Greek Theodosia, who were doing a yoga course there together. It was great (if surreal) arriving in 30-degree heat and meeting Anna in this place where I used to live, and then listening to them talk Greek (it's all it was to me!) in the car b4 going for the best lunch this YEAR in Theodosia's boyfriend's house. Which, fact fans, was a mere throw of stones from where Queen Pauline of Auchtermuchty used to live. Anna and I went there in homage. (two M's?) Paul and I had so many riotous times in that flat - we wrote 'Interact!' in it (a HEART ATTAAAAHCK!), we smoked fags and stubbed them out in a flowerpot on the balcony, we invented 'Ass in C-sharp', I obsessed about lecteurs from Nanterre, we had Eurovision parties that have never been equalled, Paul and Colin rescued me from the hideousness of Francis in August 2002, I discovered The League of Gentlemen, clicking 'No' to the question 'Are you local?' and watching the computer turn off! Misty water-coloured...

Fuck it, I was trying to make each thing into 1 paragraph, but I can't. Sorry. I need paragraphs. Thank you Mrs. Hardie in Primary 5 for making their use clear to me.

So I gave Anna and Theo some hypnotherapy, then Anna and I went into town and drank cherry beer and talked and laughed and walked about. Anna is one of those rare people I can really let go with, and we just slot into each other (no not like that). So it's really nice to just be with her, yars?

We went to my fave tapas bar in BXL, Tapas Locas, then went home and made each other laugh. She had these Greek chocolates with a picture of the Mona Lisa on each one's wrapper, and they were called 'Cioccondas'. This isn't funny til you realise that the Mona Lisa in French is known as 'La Joconde' so 'Ciocconda' is like a play on words. And it is the gayest play on words since, like, evah. So I was announcing "This is the Gay Chocolate Awards 2007. And the winner in the 'Gayest Chocolate Name (2007)' category is.... (drum roll) "La Ciocconda!" (cue rapturous applause). To be fair, La Cioccondas tasted pretty damn figh-ine, actually, but I mean come on - the Mona Lisa staring up at you 'enigmatically' (she was just French, they all look like that) - while you scoff? Non, merci.

So anyway. Then on Sunday, Anna and Theo went to yoga class and I walked through BXL to the Gare du Midi. Except I didn't cos I walked totally the wrong way and ended up about 5 miles from Gare du Midi. Never mind, I only lived there for like SIX MONTHS! Honestly. It amazes me I get home, some nights. Got train back to LDN, it was delayed but that was OK. I tried not to get too stressed, and bought some Mignonettes for munchage instead (mmm! Mignonettes rule!)

Got into Waterloo, rushed onto Bakerloo line, made it to choir just as the warm-up was finishing. Hurrah! Choir still roolz. And it is much better now, since I have made peace to a large degree with the Pinkie-ex mentioned in previous posts. Though he wasn't there. La la la. Then off to the pub. Where Carol was drunk to buggery. And Anthony played his new song. Which was nice. However, I had had such a hectic weekend that I went home early, to prepare for...

* The 'Something Fishy' gig on Tuesday night
Whereby me (Funky Fingers), Tanya (Eliza Mars), Gill (Lara Montage) and Carol (Vinnie Los Campos) stood on a stage, belted out some camp reworkings of classic disco hits, and threw in a few new ones of our own, to whooping and excitement! It was fab. If you go here: http://inthepinkies.blogspot.com then you can see the video. Under Something Fishy. We had a total riot. We did get a tad sozzled after... leading to

*An evening of joy and tears with Gill
Whereby we went to a tapas bar up in Crouch End and reminisced and projected and allsorts and got all sentimental. The food was totally amazing though. The best gazpacho I've ever had outside of Spain. I ate far too much. And felt a bit ill. This continued into Thursday, and I cancelled hypnotherapy with Lynne because I felt a bit fluey. Then I felt better in the afternoon and so braved the outside and went to...

*An evening of belly-dancing and hula-hooping with some gay men in Soho!
I saw this advertised on OUTeverywhere.com, and thought 'why not?' I have to do something to meet new eligible bachelors, because choir always seems like a good idea and then... So I went and donned a skirt with some coins on and learned all about chakras. We love. Then went to Compton's and got quietly sozzled. And met some lovely new people.

It is now Friday and this evening the divine Ms. Sooz and myself are going to do a life-training weekend entitled 'Making Money Count'. And then I can become super-rich and go and live in Palma de Mallorca. So, I do hope your world's less full than mine, because frankly, sometimes I think I have too much going on!

Lovage to you.

Up hill, down dale

Hello! I am in Yorkshire! Me and Sooz came up on Friday morning (v early). We are staying in a wee village called Sowerby Bridge, in the house her Uncle grew up in (and no longer lives in). It is the house that time and taste forgot, but that carpet madness remembered! Swirly patterns of such staggering LCD-ness that I almost tripped as I came in!

Not forgetting the matching wallpaper or the lemon (LEMON!) bathroom set. We are in heaven.

Sowerby Bridge is but a stonesthrow (ok, a 5-mile walk) from Hebden Bridge, which would you believe has more lesbians per capita than any other place in the WHOLE UK! I think Sooz had a badly-hidden agenda!

We went to a place called Saltaire on Saturday, where the choir apparently came on their Leeds trip last summer. It is an old factory in a town set up by a wealthy mill owner, Mr. Salt. David Hockney, famous moxual artist, was born in the town, and his art did litter the walls. We had some v lovely cake (CAKE!) as we sat in the restaurant. Mmm.

Yesterday we were supposed to go to Manchester to meet Sooz's ex, but we were so v tired after a 5-mile lesbo-hike that it was not a look I could wear. So we went back to the gaybar we had frequented the previous night. We played canasta, which my cousin retaught me last Tuesday in a gay bar in Paris. (fact! I went to Paris at the beginning of last week for a few days. It was teh coolness!)

Anyway. The thing is, I have been unpacking all these boxes I got back from Toulouse where I used to live, and I came across a book called "Le Coeur Découvert" by Michel Tremblay, a super Canadian author. Francis, my ex, gave me it in 1999, saying it reminded him of our relationship.

And yes, I found the book in a Toulouse box, and brought it on hols here. And began reading it again. And cried. And cried. And cried. And then texted Francis. Ooops.

The thing is, I can now realise all the lovely bits of our relationship. I spent so very long just pouring scorn on it, with my "Oh my God he was just the world's biggest loser, n'est-ce pas?". When in fact, I think I was doing the 'protection' thing. Sitting in the lesbian bar with Sooz last night telling her about the time I broke the toilet by putting chicken bones down it and thus obliging me and Francis to poo on newspapers in the adjoining room for 3 days was actually really funny. It was significantly less funny at the time, mind!

So there we are. Reading that book just brought it all back. Canasta, coffee, listening to French music, me being a supremely bad loser. Kisses, touches, complicity, bref l'amour, quoi...

And now Paul who has moved back to Oz, is also experiencing the horridness of breakup and how very existentially rocking it is. It's a wonder anyone ever dares to love again. Hmm, is that my mindtalk?

I am becoming a hypnotherapist, you know. I didn't say that before. It is v g. I am v g. Hurrah. I qualify in July.

Must fly, Sooz has been chained to the kitchen sink and stove making us a cooked breakfast and we are going to eat it. We are having fun. She is my lesbian wife. Pretty much. Oh yeah, the reason I can even post this is that I am leeching Internet from next door's wireless network connection. Technology pride!

Sweden in a month. And I have bought a new flat! Goodbye to the neighbours from Hell on a stick.

:o)