The only reason I am here is I met an old friend and the only way I can stay in contact with her is to open a blog of my own.
But also its a good opportunity to start a diary for myself and just hope no one follows me.
I just came back from a brilliant weekend at Port Eliot festival on my own when my friends were at WOMAD rushing from stage to stage in the mud. Me I was swanning from oyster bar to cabaret tent totally and blissfully intoxicated and looking so cool and debonair and I looked up and she was there in the exact same place I met her was it two or three years ago.
Was she waiting there for me (oh grow up!) or did I go in the hope of seeing her again? I like to think she had turned up every year since just in case I was there but I know I had gone again because I had got such a charge out of meeting her and talking to her and dancing with her and I wanted to relive that experience. I know that doesnt happen but its really OK to go back to a place when you thought you were happy as long as you have no illusions.
You know what I was so taken aback at seeing her again looking like I never remembered her, she said she had lost weight, that I wasnt very coherent. Not my usual flirty funny and charming self.
And then she had to go.
I went back to her blog and read about her life or what she chose to expose to her public. Its a very funny account her of life with loads of dialogue!
Ill try and write about myself in my own way
No comments:
Post a Comment