sashinka | observation orientated, with a twist of lime | a blog

Had a cool day. Did everything I planned to do before lunchtime, and because I was in East Finchley, dropped in on Zavitty. She says there's no point calling her Z, as how many people's names start with Z anyhow. Her and D don't eat dairy, so she asked me if I'd like to take the vegetarian cheese her house guests had brought over the weekend (it sounds dull, but stay with me). When I said yes, she said, "give me your car keys then?" What? "Your car keys, I'll put them in the fridge with the cheese. That way you won't forget it." Apparently, an old hunting trick of her grandma's.

We hung out in a girly, giggly, way, and I even painted her toenails a fabulous shade of purple. It was all a bit Sandra Dee/Grease but without the fifties clothes and stupid pyjamas. But by the time I'd left and picked up some Sunday papers and talked with Q on the phone for ages (more girly giggliness - it's infectious), I got over to A's birthday kinda late. Turned out it was the second sitting... it had started at eleven, and a bunch of people turned up lunchtime, and when I got there fourish, it was Glastonbury meets male-bonding-drum-group in Maida Vale. Kinda mesmeric, but not for the neighbours, who kept looking out of the window in a slightly annoyed/unsure quite what to do fashion.

Two years ago, I took my then boyfriend to A's party and he got together with D (his other half)'s cousin. It was not a good experience. Obviously I got over it, but I was angry that I didn't find the right response at the time for "sorry, I got a better offer" and it came to me some weeks later. But it's too rude to even write here. Anyway, I'd just missed them. People kept saying to me, "Do you know D? He was just here. He's from Manchester. You must be friendly with him, he's just like you." Whatever that means. (Aside: I have many friends called D, I know. But what should I do? Label them? D1? Music-D. Ex-D. It would get silly).

I've just realised that I've started doing that emotional exhibitionism thing. You probably don't want to know about my tortuous break-up with an ex. Sorry.

I ended up staying at A&D's for ages, and not making it to (other) D's singy thingy. But you can't do everything, right? Well, I can't. Figure I should get an early night, for a change.