armyofsnails: (Default)
Two weeks ago I was at a white tablecloth dinner by the Experimental Food Society at a swanky restaurant near Bank. Synesthetic cookie, sugar dripped absinthe, insect pizza, microscopic salads and the like, all themed to music with wine to match every course. Delightfully wasteful, middle class and very tasty indeed. At some point I struck a conversation with my neighbour, a lady called Irene, a former science teacher. Can't quite remember why - and it's a bit of an intense subject for such a relaxed evening - but we struck a conversation about our respective family histories. It's quite common for people from my country of birth to have had traumatic past, and it would take a long time to explain it all in a blog post, but the short version is that my family on both sides has lived through extraordinary, terrifying and borderline inhuman experiences. Knowing this has always helped me maintain a sense of perspective and a gratitude for all the things I've been able to enjoy in my life that they could not even dream of. And I suppose I should add that sitting at a luxurious banker's venue downing cocktails brought the point home.

Irene's story is both similar and different. Born to Polish parents, she told me about her mother who had been sent to the Siberian GULAGs as a child, survived some horrendous events and managed to flee to England. Then she wrote a book about it. Irene mentioned the name of the book, but being Miss Goldfish I instantly forgot it. Conversation drifted away from morbid subjects, and the lady proceeded to show me pictures of a giant dodo made out of sugar she had seen at the Experimental Food Society exhibition the previous day. Before leaving, I gave her my business card (force of habit, not exactly a networking opportunity but you never know) and didn't think about it since.

Yesterday a package is delivered to my desk... )
armyofsnails: (food snail)
This is the lady I'm going to marry.

And I will fill her up with this stuff.

My local supermarket used to sell the chocolate flake tea but stopped for some reason. I have withdrawal symptoms. I used to keep a box of it on my office desk (TLC treatment for emergencies... worked really well when I was qitting smoking). It was spotted by a colleague of mine who also happens to live in Crouch End, who instantly knew where I was getting it from because he had a box of the same tea on his own desk.

Speaking of chocolate, amongst the new must-do weird London places is the restaurant called Archipelago which serves zebra, crocodile and insects amongst other things. A friend told me about it but I forgot the name, so I googled "chocolate covered scorpion restaurant london" and the correct website came up.
armyofsnails: (mosshood)
armyofsnails: (Default)
Scrap being a florist. I've found something else for me to do if I get enough of my current profession...

Architectural jellymaking. A couple of ex-Etonians fill a room with gin mist, build a replica of the Gherkin, organise a 2000-person architectural jelly fight, and create a banquet with entirely black food.
armyofsnails: (Default)
On Saturday, the strangest thing I've ever been called before... "You are like cordite". When I asked what on Earth it meant I was told that cordite is a firearm propellent and that I smell like one.

That possibly beats being called a "Rasputin-like vulture woman" (don't ask). I get my fair share of compliments, don't I??

Oh, and this is what I've received today from the client for my studio theatre project when I've sent an e-mail round saying that my surname and work e-mail address have changed...

"Hi Tania
That's a lovely name! Sounds really great - of movie star billing - enter your next building for the RIBA Gold! I don't know how it came about, but I wish you all the best!
Kind regards
Malcolm"


Heh. He is such a lovely chap, but I'm not sure how to respond to that....

So much has happened in the past two weeks that it would take me at least another fortnight to write about it. Therefore, I'll just post a few pics and leave it at that.... for the time being anyway.

Racing Segways in the woods, Greenwich Observatory, DLR, blackberries, poppies, gingerification )
armyofsnails: (Gina)
Aaah weirdness.

Out pubbing with colleagues on Friday. Knocked a chair on the floor twice. Was showing everybody my article. After the eighth round of Honey Dew I lost count. Then Earls Court and a South African guy who believed himself to be a reincarnation of a dead Russian soldier. Stella didn't like him so I had to dispose of him. Then I stayed up until 6am talking to her. Saturday went on a weird tour organised by a friend of hers, a ginger poet called Richard. He wrote the word "poo" on the hands of every person at the tour and made them chant the word "anal" loudly (a part of a phrase from a horror film, apparently). Two guys dressed as gremlins, one drinking rose wine and the other attempting to light a cigarette. Then ended up in Fulham in the house of one of the strangest men I've ever met. He has lizards living in his toilet cistern and a swing in his upstairs room. A balcony with a wooden skeleton, an artificial fountain and a view across London. His library is at ceiling level and to reach it you have to walk on a folded down plank of timber. He has genuine uniforms of First World War nurses in his wardrobe and I got to try the coat from one of them.

Curiouser and curiouser...
armyofsnails: (Default)
Be thankful your pet has never had an accident on a Sunday. Sadly, no such luck for me. )
armyofsnails: (Gina)
Last night at S's exhibition opening in Chelsea:

On the way to the gallery I bumped into Boris Johnson outside the South Kensington station (see my previous entry about him here). I heard a tramp shout, "Oy, Boris, so what about drinking on the tube, ye bastard??" then as I turned around the Blond Master walked straight into me. I started laughing and he grimaced, ran his hand through his famous straw hairdo and walked away.

Later on that evening an extremely drunk guy who works in tracking (whatever the hell that is) tried to chat me up by talking about my leg. I laughed so much I almost pissed myself. I kept calling him "tie boy" all night and pulling on his tie while he was enthusing about the aesthetic qualities of my leg and the pleasing shape of my jeans! Then two old artists wearing black threatened to kidnap my friend S, and I had to rescue her from them! They were like characters from a Fellini film except creepier.

Life just gets curiouser and curiouser.
armyofsnails: (love is blind)
I bought a really skimpy dress today on a whim. I mean, seriously fucking skimpy. With a massive cleavage. Tits-squeezed-together-like-a-pair-of-fat-gerbils-in-a-cage kind of cleavage. Dark blue fabric, somewhat similar to denim but much richer and nicer in texture.

I do believe as I get older my hormones are becoming increasingly haywire. I can see no other reason for purchasing of such a silly and inappropriate item. For Pete's sake, the last time I wore a dress was five years ago. I have two in my entire wardrobe, one of them never worn. I'm not a dress person.

I even *very nearly* bought a pair of fishnet stockings to go with that... Hahaha
armyofsnails: (fear me)
Had a dream a few nights ago that the client for my theatre project took us to a horse riding event. We arrived, sat on the grass, and each of us was handed an onion from a bucket. We were told that the onions would soon grow into complete horses - we just had to wait a little and keep the onions moist.

After a while, they did swell up and became horses. As I was watching this take place, I looked at the client and his wife, and saw with amazement that they had mushrooms growing in their hair and their armpits. I wanted to tell them that, but felt too embarrassed, so remained silent.

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