deconstructing mark
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Thursday 29.5.03 | GOD it's hot. But am not complaining as the weather is also gorgeous - sunny, cloudless, blah. Going home tomorrow for the first time since I moved here (just can't believe it was two months ago) which will be undeniably weird, but also strangely good. I think I will miss Berlin. Have to be up sometime around dawn to get SHITTY RyanAir flight (you're CRAP, you're CRAP, you're SHITE) and have already agreed with Max and Tom and we are going to Popstarz tomorrow night, so Mark is going to be a tired boy. And probably trashed too, knowing me. Sunday 1.6.03 AH, Sunday morning at home in Harrow. Massive bowl of Coco Pops, Saturday's Guardian, coffee, cat, and Vivaldi's Gloria blasting out of the stereo-system. Vivaldi must have been a raving queer - you just listen to the opening few minutes of Gloria and you can just see him conducting it: billowing white shirt, arms flailing everywhere like a windmill that's got vaguely out of control, leaping about as the sopranos hit that top D for the twelfth time (and especially as Roberto, the beautiful treble, is singing today) - seriously, it's just written into his music. He must have been. Anyway, enough outing of long-dead Italians, it is very nice to be here. I know that I really should be used to coming home after long periods abroad now, but I still haven't got the knack. There are so many things which are part of daily life here, but it's precisely because they are part of life here that you forget about them. You also develop new habits: a good example is that, whenever I get on the tube, I want to press a button to make the doors open at my stop, because you do in Berlin. Or that, even though I never quite mastered the whole looking-the-right-way-when-crossing-a-road in France or Germany, I find that, now I am back here, I am looking the wrong way here too. Marvellous. These little idiosyncrasies, though, are part of what makes coming home such a pleasure. The other part, is, of course, going out, getting battered and then going clubbing with one's friends until a stupid hour of Saturday morning, and then wandering around the next day, feeling roughly like one has been stuffed through a catflap and pulled out the other side. Friday was excellent. Off to look at a flat later which might do Charlie, Anna and me for September. Fingers crossed. Monday 2.6.03 AH, flathunting. Joy. Saw four places this morning which were all too expensive and probably have been snapped up by now anyway, however I have now joined forces with Charlie so I am expecting everything to fall into place from now on... :-) More this week sometime. | |||||||||
