Voyeurism

Went into town yesterday so see Cicely and go to the Voyeurism exhibition at Tate Modern.  Seeing Cicely was brilliant but the exhibition was rubbish.  Went into town about midday and met Cicely at Brittany's office in the Lloyd's Building.  I'm always excited to go there and I think its a testament to its great design that 30 years on it's still strikingly modern and there were still a large number of people in the street taking photos of it:

LOVE IT!

Cicely and I then went to the Tate and into the exhibition.  Was a bit of a ham fisted collection of photos by artists, of celebrities and social document.  Some striking images - especially a picture of Andy Warhol lifting up his shirt to reveal some truly terrifying operation scars following being shot - but mostly we just sort of thought HUNH?:

We then wandered down the South Bank in the sunshine, through Trafalgar Square and into Soho where we met Gayden and Brittney for drinks.  We were both really annoyed that we'd spent £10 on seeing Voyeurism at the Tate when it would've cost the same to go see Ernesto Neto at the Hayward:

Ah well.  Lovely day though.  They all went off for dinner and I went home - eating out is definitely not within my financial grasp at the moment.

Far and few, far and few

Although it may seem like I've given up blogging again my apparent silence is actually a reflection of how infrequently I can afford to do things these days.  In all fairness I did go to the Summer Exhibition at the Royal Academy last Tuesday but since mum bought a print I'm waiting until the print arrives so I can illustrate the post!  This weekend just gone Susannah was leaving London, Deborah just got back from Italy and Cicley was visiting from the States so I had plenty of reasons to loosen my purse strings and head into town.

Went in on Thursday and spent the evening getting stoned with Deborah.  The highlight of which was discussing her psychic powers (of which she is sure and I am nothing but sceptical) which culminated in her telling me she could hear voices.  I think hearing voices is a much better summary of Deborah's mental state than any notions of soothsaying.  Friday I bummed around London in the sunshine reading my book (Stone's Fall by Iain Pears ... its ok) and waiting to meet up with Bean so we could head to Susannah's leaving party.  Ended up in a pub in East Putney drinking berry mojitos in blazing sunshine.  The party was really fun, mostly because I drank in excess of half a bottle of vodka, and I was glad to find out that Susannah was only going as far as York - not back to San Francisco like I was expecting.  Meet some great people too including a barrister who offered to pass my CV around a bit so hopefully that will lead somewhere.

Stayed at Bean's flat on Friday night ready for the arrival of Cicely the following morning.  Woke up with a stinking hangover and practically ran to the nearby Asian supermarket for ramen and gyoza.  Started to feel a bit more human in time for Cicley's arrival and we all spent the rest of the day drinking wine at Borough Market on another gloriously sunny day.  In the evening we all went for Vietnamese food on the Kingsland Road:

Then went on to the Book Store.  New club which plays Electro Swing music ... think Big Band with a dance beat.  Had a really good time and was extremely amused by Brittany who had one or two tequila shots too many:

Sunday meant another hangover, another emergency dose of gyoza and another sunny day.  In spite of my intention to spend the day lying on a sofa and groaning I was tempted down to Balham to see Clare's new house, which she moved into on Friday and spent the day having beers and barbeque in the back garden:

Most importantly I got to spend time with Wilbur:

Excuse me while I explode from a cuteness overload.