On a Sunday...Lunched at Kirsten's yesterday. She had friends in town from Chicago, pitchers of Pimms, and delicious food. Pimm's is a lovely gin drink made with English lemonade, fresh fruit and cucumber, but I really don't think gin and I get along. I'm feeling very ill today.

Team wrecking Went to a dive pub in Paddington last night for a team buidling event. They're wrecked today. I had sense enough to go home at a decent hour as we're back out tonight for a client event. Plus, the super hot new employee had left and there was no one to salivate after.



I need a real life.

Sunday morning, 6am, a conversation happening in the courtyard below. Two Americans having coffeed. Chatting about their dating situations in their flat, middle-something accents.

-- The German girl wants it.

-- How do you know?

-- Dude, she wants its. I mean _wants_ it, but I'm still into the other one, but she was begging for it

-- But you can't, if you are, even if she wants it bad.



So I'm laying in bed, annoyed that it's 6am, annoyed that it would be too obvious to lift the blinds and find out if they look as annoyingly Matt-Damon-Ben-Affleck as they sound, annoyed that it was too banal to be interesting and not sexual enough to be masturbatory, annoyed that there are accents that piercingly flat.



I wonder if the German girl got it after all.

Don't like goodbyes So R. returned to California on Monday. Seeing him standing on the street, teary-eyed as we said goodbye, is stuck in my memory. I can only imagine what it would feel like to know one's also saying goodbye to live in England. I would be devastated. And I'm going to miss him. For six months I knew I would have instant weekend plans. For six months someone rang my mobile who wasn't work-related. For six months two friends got a chance to reunite and be best friends in the same country, same city. That was wonderful. And now I'm back to Saturday nights in front of the telly watching "Casualty" and cursing that I've little talent for making friends or standing alone in bars. Farewell R., return soon!

...did my charm trickle dry? eBoy1 has stopped emailing, claiming to be busy (with his job or with his new man I'm not sure) ending an ongoing stream of email contact that I was becoming emotionally reliant on. I got that flutter in my stomach when my inbox would load and, crikey, that's something I never thought I'd say. And although nothing was ever said (or readable between the lines) I do wonder if at an earlier point I missed an opportunity to re-route the downhill slide to "friendship". It's less that I feel I may have missed the boat than I may have missed the whole bloody Armada. What if he was possibly "it" and he's getting it somewhere else but may have once thought I was it too?



eBoy2 has stopped emailing after I said I couldn't see him on Saturday night because it's R.'s last night in London before he returns home. I was interested in meeting him to see if there was any chemistry, but I killed that horse before it left the startingpoint.



So suddenly, no reason to anticipate getting emails. Besides, you lot never bloody write.



I'm thinking about starting eFriendships with the concerned individuals who thinks I need viagra and penile implants. They write me often.

One of the reasons I love living here. Recent title for a channel 4 documentary on Afghanistan: "Here's one we invaded earlier."



Didn't see it, but am aware of growing talk about the US's failure to create a viable infrastructure in Afghanistan, or indeed to catch Osama bin Laden. Of course, Bush would have you believe that's no longer important, although recent terrorist activity might provide differently.



Blair is returning today from the G8 conference to a wave of anger from Mps who feel we were "duped" into the war by doctored or completely fictitious "evidence" that Iraq had WMD and intentions to use them. There is talk about the possible fallout if WMD aren't found in Iraq including calls for the US and UK to pay reparations to families Iraqis killed during the possibly illegal "war." It's really a simple question, Mssrs. Blair and Bush. Where are they? We were forced into a war because you had proof that Iraq had WMD and were a viable threat to US and UK security. If they didn't, or if they were destroyed prior to March, then the US and UK are, indeed, guilty of highly questionable invasion -- and the maniacal grip they maintain on Iraqi oil is doing little to quell the world's growing clamour for truthful answers. Blair may yet be victim to political backlash if he can't satisfy parliament that the evidence exists.

Celeb sighting Gordon Ramsay, enfant terrible of celebrity chefs, jogging through South Ken. Infamous for berating an amateur chef on a BBC show but lunch at Gordon Ramsay at Claridge's was the best meal I've ever had.

Crap. I've got a lot of it. And it was schlepped during our mini heatwave from one large two bedroom flat to one smaller one bedroom flat. So it's all in South Kensington littered cross the floor and counter tops and i'm not sure where any of it is going to go. Luckily the heatwave is abated and I'm staying home this afternoon to await a delivery and put stuff away.



The flat's small, doesn't have great storage space. Doesn't yet have hot water. Does have a lot of street noice. And an occassional whiff of grilled meat from the kebab shop across the street, but you know, I think I like it.