Since my last teaching contract ended (thank fuck) I ricochet between joy that I don’t have to be in that hell hole anymore and terror that I will never ever have any money again. This confliction is reflected in my erratic spending patterns. Yesterday I spent £34 on Diptyque , £300 on Botox, £50 on Clinique and £10 in Laduree. Today I just ate a hideous microwave curry from the fridge as it was near its sell by date and I am feeling too cheap to throw its £1.99 ass in the bin.
I just heard a great story about a friend who after 4 days on the floor of Madrid airport was finally put on a coach home to London only to spend the 36 hour drive seated next to a schizophrenic who had run out of medication.
At the age of 6 I was given an LP record of The Singing Nun by a friend of my mothers named Ruth. Although I didn't realise at the time I guess Ruth was a radical left wing lesbian, she had short dark hair, was vegetarian in 1971 and collected ethnic musical instruments from around the world. All the signs were there but I didn't click till just now! My mother, who's own life would have been vastly improved by a Saphic shift used to take me to visit this woman who lived at the top of Albrighton Road. At Ruths house dinner was made from ingredients and recipes at our house dinner came from adding water to sachets and opening cans. I played my album over and over for a short time trilling along in a language I didn't understand. Of course when I raised the issue of me becoming a nun of the singing variety over a Fry Bentos dinner with my grandparents back home I received little by way of encouragment.
I was at the Chelsea Curzon last night watching Lourdes (sick girl gets cured and has shag) and I saw the trailer for Sex And The City 2. I am so excited I cannot wait for May 28th I will be a the first showing on the first day of release. Despite my affection for the dark arts I really just want to be Carrie Bradshaw..