having a GI-raffe, my old china!

apparently, i am even more dismal at pool than i previously thought. and let me tell you, that's pretty impressive! though, apparently i can twirl a cue like nobody's business, with plenty of menace and resolve.


but that is no matter, because despite all the hype of the infamous tournament, that wasn't really the point of the evening at all, was it? no no no. the point of the evening, at least as far as i was concerned, was that i got to meet this one, and this one, and this one, and this one, and this one in the flesh, and see my darling girlies again for the first time in ages. there was whisky and chattering and giggling and of course plenty of tramping around camden town. and, of course, i have photos. i will post them as soon as i figure out how to extract them from the dratted camera (including, yes, some stellar photos of stuart wearing my cap at a jaunty angle).


the only thing missing, of course, was the lovely third member of the troika, who we missed very much, particularly during our 2am ritual feeding down on old compton street, where we cackled madly about accents and changed the subject very smoothly (look, i've got water!), even as the good mark tried vainly to teach us some cockney rhyming slang. though there was absolute fiesta of fierce fabulous femaleness about that table (with which mark coped gracefully), we missed our owlet. of course, the prevailing theory is that if she'd managed to actually be there with us, the sheer power of the troika plus two would have caused the planets to realign, the heavens to turn themselves inside out, and basically the end of the world as we know it.


that's right. we can do that, when you put us all together. make no mistake.


anyway. i'm not doing the scene any justice really, but suffice it to say that it was a smashup good time, and though by the end of it my throat was sore and i was pretty much exhausted, i can't wait to do it all over again. for real.