Spy kit

I suppose it was inevitable that someone would give me a spy kit at some point.

The brown illustrated paper bag included a reference card providing advice about handling various dangerous chemicals. There were two sticks of what I assumed to be bubble gum but was most emphatically told they had an entirely different purpose. Also a solar powered calculator with a reflective back.

I think the shine was so I could be rescued if stranded in the desert (Stay near the crashed plane and use something shiny to attract attention - don't start walking).

But probably the most important content, once I'd got past the orange triangular cut out and the two peg warning, was a ticket to see Lee Simpson and friends at the excellent and raucous Comedy Club - which we've secretly attended.

Incognito, of course.

action, camera, lights

So yesterday lunchtime was pretty chatter-filled as we heard of a few recent electrifying and superheroic events.

By the time we got to the indeterminate but possibly quince flavoured truffles with the coffee, we were all feeling somewhat full and perhaps a little boggle-eyed too.

I think the little man used as a logo by the restaurant is a sort of symbol of what may happen.

But that was just the beginning of our adventures as we then made our way towards the King's Road, finding the Trafalgar where we conversed whilst one of us travelled on a most extraordinary route to pick up a few items from a carrier bag.
We rendezvoused again at Sloane Square (I favour the fountain as a meeting point) and that led us into the evening section. Peter Jones was already Christmas bright, but the Sloane trees in their elevated positions on lamp-posts are not yet ablaze, unlike their more commercially minded cousins to the east in Oxford Circus and Regents Street.

fog bound in Soho

I may have to describe Sunday in stages. We'd started rather opulently in Chelsea and edged our way via a few stops and some zig-zags across into the west end. The man in the dark coat didn't seem very happy to see us arrive or leave the one pint underground drinking establishment.

Of course, we made up for it at the raucous club around the corner later.

This was the bit where we were in the alleyways around the back of Soho. It's before the freezing fog arrived. Oh, come think of it, that was after midnight, so technically it was already Monday.

competitive binding with Elisa

Writing "The Square" is proceeding quietly in the background - I really should count the words and add them into NaNoWriMo.

I had a sort of breakthrough today when I randomly introduced a new character. I needed someone to help me tie two story lines together and so I sat in a coffee shop talking to an Isreali scientist. She helped me make the connections.

It's worked brilliantly, because even parts of the story that I thought I understood are now different from the way I was planning to tell it.

The fascination for me is having these random characters parked around one's head and then having them reactivated. I can learn from my earlier foray with "The Triangle", but I'm starting to feel that "The Square" is getting its own good plotline which is being partly written by the characters.

kiss the night

Sometimes I think Captain Beefheart was right.

Singin through you to me; thunderbolts caught easily
Shouts the truth peacefully Eeeeeee-lec-tri-ci-teeeeeeee

High voltage man kisses night to bring
the light to those who need to hide
their shadow deed

Go into bright find the light and know that friends
don't mind just how you grow

Midnight cowboy stains in black
reads dark roads without a map
To free-seeking electricity

Lighthouse beacon straight ahead
straight ahead across black seas to bring
Seeking eeee-lec-tri-ci-teeeee

High voltage man kisses night to bring
the light to those who need to hide
their shadow-deed
hide their shadow-deed

Seek electricity...........

(This one's for Sparky)

duck or grouse

Back to the UK and a chance to replenish my toiletries bag with a new duck. I'm not sure what happened to the last one, but it had raised the occasional smile whenever my luggage was searched until its tragic loss somewhere in Canada a year ago.

Perhaps it thought it was a goose?

Actually, there has been something of an overload of shampoos and toiletries at this hotel, with 7 bottles containing different substances, plus a complete separate set of massage oils and soaps on some sort of mixing slate,

And don't get me started on the other soaps in tins or the array of sponges and special salts in the bath rack.

payant

Unusual for me, but I've reached that point where I'm planning when I can get the next decent sleep.

Normally, I can get by with just a modest amount, but I've got that slightly fuzzy head feeling that is not quite a headache but could so easily become one.

I know its not intake related but more a function of continued output. Even with my gappy travel plans today, the downtime won't be long enough to fix it.

I'm observing that it seems strange to be planning the next sleep, rather than the next party. Checks and balances, I suppose.

Rue de Wakening

Another early start today as my blackberry alarm prised me from sleep at what seemed way too early.

Tea before sunrise and then off to meetings.

It was only by early evening that I realised I'd only grazed on a croissant and some fruit for the whole day.

I remembered I'd stashed some leftovers from a huge carrier bag of take-away lunch yesterday so picked through that before heading to an evening 'dinner' which had somehow been converted to an evening drink and nibbles.

Back in my room, I've acquired a snack and now working in the hotel dressing gown I'm wondering if opening the doors to the balcony was such a bright idea in the evening. Some little buglets have squeaked their way in and although they don't look like mosquitoes, they seem very attracted to the white of the dressing gown. I tried diverting them by squirting some expensive hotel cologne in the far corner of the room, but they seem to prefer colour over aroma.

Will need to check ankles for signs of bug damage in the morning.

Time for zed.

novel location

The rain kept me awake last night. I'd opened the door to the balcony but the scree sound from the gulls gave way to first a gentle tapping and then a later thudding of rain against the glass and the floor. Later there was also a rumble of thunder from the nearby hills.

Luckily I was sleepy enough for it to only mildly disturb me although I did wake again just before my alarm was due to ring in the early morning. Still enough rain for me to select both a waterproof jacket and an umbrella before leaving the hotel.

Fortunately, the sun decided to arrive around mid morning and creates a wholly different tone.

itinerary

Morning. Airport. Baggage. Security. Lounge. iPod. Plane. Nice. Passport. Bag. Car. Hotel. Meeting. Evening. Sleep.

are you made of stardust too?

Barely enough time to visit the asylum today, caught in our own madness.

I'd strayed late on Friday and the expected visitors were already drinking the wine. Saturday mixed elements and a walk through leaf strewn paths past Japanese trees, twisted arches dripping with pods of seeds and winding stone stairways to broken and barred doorways.

Later, we stood together outside and looked at the brown sky and the moon, swirling behind blue smoky clouds.

beispiel der paranormal im london

Here I am around the Aldwych with the approach of Halloween and I can just make out a few unexpected ghost trails on the streets.

They are easier to see on the big version of the picture, and I hear there will also be quite a few white apparitions around the City on Saturday evening.

Continuing an orange theme further this week, extreme pumpkins is certainly worth a visit and this year has an even more impressive site.

Or maybe a stroll around the flickr Graves, Tombstones and Cemeteries web site with some supporting music.