Bank Holiday Weekend. Hope everyone had a pleasant bank holiday weekend. The weekend that signifies the end of the Summer, the Notting Hill Carnival, and the intense tourist season. I'm glad it's all behind me -- I love Autumn and the fact that a week from now I'll be sitting on a beach in Mykonos.



The weekend was fairly civilised. Robert arrived on Saturday and lugged his bags through the heatwave to my little flat. He arrived hot and tired and needing to rest. We watched Quills, the Kate Winslet Marquis de Sade vehicle. It's a quirky little film that's neither dark nor graphic enough to be remarkable. It did, however, make me think that Joaquin Phoenix is a babe! We then ate dinner in Maida Vale and headed up to the north, north, north part of London for a BBQ in West Finchley. I'm glad we went because very few Organic people did (shame, shame) and Kirsty, our media planner/buyer is a lovely person. But it was still hot out and the wine wasn't cold and it all made me very sleepy.



Sunday we laid around watching the EastEnders omnibus (an entire week's worth of episodes shown in a row without commercial interruption) until Robert danced off to Northampton (by all accounts, charmless Northampton) to join the elderly parade through Althrop, Diana's resting place. I watched tv and went to bed early. Monday was just shopping for my upcoming holiday and working on my website.



There are now pictures of Edinburgh in the Images section.

Test, one, two, three, four

I think I've been losing data. Back form the Festival. Had a brilliant time in Edinburgh despite the never-ending downpour of cold rain. Highlights were Peepolykus, Kate Dimbleby as Peggy Lee in "Fever!" and Priorité à Gauche (two English boys as French popstars touring England -- maxi bon!).

Went last night to 10 Tokyo Joe's the bare, plain, uninspiring, and badly ventilated nightclub for a client's marketing party and had a brilliant time. Lots of very fun people and free wine and good dance music. Spent quite a while talking to a very cute account handler from another agency who I told I had been skydiving several times, only to find out he had done over 175 jumps and was off to Perris Valley to do 50 more jumps in five days. Apparently, I'm a liar now as well. I would no sooner jump out of an airplane than jump off a bridge. Oh well, it meant I got to hold his attention for a while, which was lovely.



Off tonight, hungover and tired, to Edinburgh for the Festival. Have tickets for such interesting things as Her Aching Heart (a musical told with glove puppets) something called Wiping My Mother's Arse (which I'm hoping isn't told with glove puppets) and Priorite a Gauche (a play of two English men pretending to be French rap stars touring England.) I'll report back on Monday. Happy weekend.

I've finally decided about a holiday, two weeks on the islands of Mykonos and Santorini in Greece. It will be several days on a beach working on my tan (hah!) and reading and not being anywhere near a computer. I was incredibly indecisive.



I've also added new pictures to the Images section -- evidence on sunshine in London and other bits of Summer life.



Off to have drinks with Neil at Oriel.

Weekend recap. Friday night I had dinner with Kirsten and her boyfriend Peter at the pub. It was the usual weekend kickoff -- too much wine and a big lie-in on Saturday. We cooed over the Islands of Greece brochure which hasn't helped me decide where to go at all, and recapped the week's work trangressions. It looks like Kirsten will be my new neighbour, as to whether or not Peter will...



Saturday night, after the forementioned lie-in, I went to a party at Lance's friend's flat in Notting Hill. It was on a fabulous roofgarden and the images of the chimneyed rooftops against the cloudy night sky was stunning (ok, it could have been the champagne) but once I navigated the roofladder it was brilliant. Met a fascinating (and sexy) Australian of an undetermined sexuality who was Christiane Armanpour's cameraman and now follows Louis Theroux around. He was remarkably candid about the phenomenon of seeing some truly horrible things through a viewfinder in Kosovo (which objectified anything going on until he could reflect on it later.) and what it was like to have a Kosovan boarder guard put an empty gun to his head and pull the trigger. I was quite intrigued. He stormed out, however, once his female companion (date? friend?) started making out with some guy so I have a feeling I won't be seeing him again anytime soon.



Sunday, after another big lie-in, I went and bought a random collection of DVDs including the last available season of South Park (which is getting dark and very perverse) and Leni Riefenstahl's Triumph des Willens, the remarkable and disturbing propaganda/documentary of Nazi Germany that is celebrated for its innovative moviemaking form and banned for its evil content. In this age of racial troubles and politicisation of debate, however, it's good to be aware of the signs of fanaticism and history-repeating.

We had a heatwave. Now we're having rainstorms. The never predictable weather is dumping inches of cold rain on us not days after the heatwave. I'm wearing a sweater.



I spent the weekend re-discovering my inner diva -- some brilliant mind thought of renting a karaoke machine for our quaterly party on Friday and we were here until 2am screeching random songs like rock stars. It was such fun, and I was rather fearless about singing, which was a nice reminder that I used to have talent. High point a very sentimental solo California Dreaming and the dance mix to Dont Cry for Me Argentina, the low point: the all-white version of No Woman, No Cry (we should have been shot).



Sunday we had an unusually gorgeous sunny day so I went off to see the Courtauld at Somerset House on the banks of the Thames. The continental courtyard was packed with children playing in the geyser-like fountains. The collections are diverse, form the truly tacky Gilbert Collection to the stunning Hermitage rooms. Then went to visit the other homosexuals at Heals to buy little household gadgets.