Back to Life
You think you guys are going to miss my Valencia posts? I've been back in London for four days now, and there doesn't seem to be an end in sight to my Spanish mourning. I miss that place so much I can barely stand it.
Alas, the bank account, she is weeping, and I must earn some nice juicy pounds to revive her so that I can get back there as soon as humanly possible.
This time last week I was lying on a beach in the sun. Now, my lovely tan is concealed under several layers of clothing to protect against the cold and grey. If this is spring weather, I'm a freaking daffodil.
Wait, did that make sense? Didn't think so.
Like the very diligent (and increasingly poverty-stricken) working holidaymaker that I am, I've spent the last couple of days hunched over a table in a cafe in Putney, blowing the dust off my CV and sending it out as far and widely as possible. I have one interview scheduled already, the suit has been dry-cleaned (to remove all traces of that lovely Dettol scent), and hopefully I should be doing something suitably mind-numbing before too long.
Then I just have to find somewhere to live. I'll start thinking about that tomorrow.
It's not all bad. Aside from the inevitable post-holiday glumness and necessary period of adjustment to vitamin D deficiency, I've had a fun few days catching up with some folks and doing some cool Londony things.
The highlights? On Saturday afternoon I visited an exhibition of spectacular paintings by the Lockhart River Art Gang, a group of Indigenous artists from Cape York. They were magnificent, and I had to be physically restrained from going out to rob the nearest bank so that I could buy them all.
Then, on Sunday, I went with the lovely B1 (who is demonstrating generosity above and beyond the call of our fifteen-year friendship by continuing to let me stay at her house) to watch her partner, B2 (it's his house too, thanks B2) run in the London Marathon. Having snagged a prime position opposite Buckingham Palace, about 200 metres from the finish line, we stood in the rain with thousands of others and cheered the runners on. It was quite an experience - these people are truly mad (but in a good way?). The elite runners powered through with nary a glance for the landmarks around them, the amateurs hobbled along any way they could, their faces contorted with agony. I confess it did feel a little smug to be shouting "Come on, you can do it, nearly there!" at people who had already fun further than I think I could crawl. We were there for a couple of hours, though, and I started to get a bit of Clapper's Cramping Elbow, so I totally understood what they were all going through...
B2 acquitted himself very respectably, finishing the race in just over three and three-quarter hours. Congratulations, B2! A very impressive effort indeed.
Other than that, it's all work and little play for our jLo at present. I'm in the process of sorting all my Spain photos, and as soon as I unravel the mysteries of Flickr I will upload them for your edification, amusement, and loud sighs of undiluted jealousy. Stay tuned.
Alas, the bank account, she is weeping, and I must earn some nice juicy pounds to revive her so that I can get back there as soon as humanly possible.
This time last week I was lying on a beach in the sun. Now, my lovely tan is concealed under several layers of clothing to protect against the cold and grey. If this is spring weather, I'm a freaking daffodil.
Wait, did that make sense? Didn't think so.
Like the very diligent (and increasingly poverty-stricken) working holidaymaker that I am, I've spent the last couple of days hunched over a table in a cafe in Putney, blowing the dust off my CV and sending it out as far and widely as possible. I have one interview scheduled already, the suit has been dry-cleaned (to remove all traces of that lovely Dettol scent), and hopefully I should be doing something suitably mind-numbing before too long.
Then I just have to find somewhere to live. I'll start thinking about that tomorrow.
It's not all bad. Aside from the inevitable post-holiday glumness and necessary period of adjustment to vitamin D deficiency, I've had a fun few days catching up with some folks and doing some cool Londony things.
The highlights? On Saturday afternoon I visited an exhibition of spectacular paintings by the Lockhart River Art Gang, a group of Indigenous artists from Cape York. They were magnificent, and I had to be physically restrained from going out to rob the nearest bank so that I could buy them all.
Then, on Sunday, I went with the lovely B1 (who is demonstrating generosity above and beyond the call of our fifteen-year friendship by continuing to let me stay at her house) to watch her partner, B2 (it's his house too, thanks B2) run in the London Marathon. Having snagged a prime position opposite Buckingham Palace, about 200 metres from the finish line, we stood in the rain with thousands of others and cheered the runners on. It was quite an experience - these people are truly mad (but in a good way?). The elite runners powered through with nary a glance for the landmarks around them, the amateurs hobbled along any way they could, their faces contorted with agony. I confess it did feel a little smug to be shouting "Come on, you can do it, nearly there!" at people who had already fun further than I think I could crawl. We were there for a couple of hours, though, and I started to get a bit of Clapper's Cramping Elbow, so I totally understood what they were all going through...
B2 acquitted himself very respectably, finishing the race in just over three and three-quarter hours. Congratulations, B2! A very impressive effort indeed.
Other than that, it's all work and little play for our jLo at present. I'm in the process of sorting all my Spain photos, and as soon as I unravel the mysteries of Flickr I will upload them for your edification, amusement, and loud sighs of undiluted jealousy. Stay tuned.
posted by jLo at 3:51 PM
4 Comments:
jLo, only you would go half way around the world to see an art exhibit from Australian artists!
And - get this - the exhibition was sponsored by the QLD Government! Tres spooky, to see that logo everywhere....
But you do make a good point, Captain. I have seen some British art, too, I promise...
Let that suit of yours do the work and the pounds will start flooding in buddy.
It IS a very fetching suit. Becoming reacquainted with walking in heels was quite an experience, though..
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