Weeked in Review
Friday: The much-hyped drag and glasswalking show, followed by clubbing and a 4am collapse in P's Mistress Flat. The Mistress Flat is in a Victorian mansion in London and I occasionally borrow it when it is not being rented out. It is the sort of place where one might keep a mistress in style although it mainly houses friends of P's or rich retirees renting it for a holiday. Perhaps this is because P's most long term mistress spent the majority of her time in an asylum. Fact.
Saturday: As the Mistress Flat is perilously close to my favourite clothing store in the country (Twice as Nice on Battersea Park Rd), I obtained an outfit by designer Rick Owens (http://www.google.co.uk/images?um=1&hl=en&biw=1280&bih=576&tbs=isch:1&aq=f&aqi=g10&oq=&gs_rfai=&q=rick%20owens) which can be worn as a dress or a bellydance outfit. One never knows when there might be a bellydance emergency and this will come in handy.
This was followed by dinner in Fulham at a delicious vegan restaurant called 222, the sort of meal that takes ten years off your life but is worth it, as one of my friends commented.
Sunday: I wrote fiction all day and then had dinner with P, where I politely resisted attempts at over-the-dinner-table ravishing. This was frustrating as I have a longstanding image of doing just such a thing in just such a room: Fireplace, enormous candles, heavy throne-like chairs and a banquet-style table, tapestry, books, silver cups, the undeniably ambiance-setting wolf pelt on the wall (bad vegan!), wine that might be dramatically spilt...But in the fantasy I always imagined someone who, oh, wasn't married (for starters) and who had never put me at risk for HIV and refused to apologise (for finishers).
Monday: Taught three bellydance classes and worked on fiction
Today: Rode supervisor's horse and taught four riding lessons
Saturday: As the Mistress Flat is perilously close to my favourite clothing store in the country (Twice as Nice on Battersea Park Rd), I obtained an outfit by designer Rick Owens (http://www.google.co.uk/images?um=1&hl=en&biw=1280&bih=576&tbs=isch:1&aq=f&aqi=g10&oq=&gs_rfai=&q=rick%20owens) which can be worn as a dress or a bellydance outfit. One never knows when there might be a bellydance emergency and this will come in handy.
This was followed by dinner in Fulham at a delicious vegan restaurant called 222, the sort of meal that takes ten years off your life but is worth it, as one of my friends commented.
Sunday: I wrote fiction all day and then had dinner with P, where I politely resisted attempts at over-the-dinner-table ravishing. This was frustrating as I have a longstanding image of doing just such a thing in just such a room: Fireplace, enormous candles, heavy throne-like chairs and a banquet-style table, tapestry, books, silver cups, the undeniably ambiance-setting wolf pelt on the wall (bad vegan!), wine that might be dramatically spilt...But in the fantasy I always imagined someone who, oh, wasn't married (for starters) and who had never put me at risk for HIV and refused to apologise (for finishers).
Monday: Taught three bellydance classes and worked on fiction
Today: Rode supervisor's horse and taught four riding lessons