Week 167
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Another week, containing various thoughts, feelings, as weeks do, but Iām buggered if I can remember what they all were. I had a burst of productivity at one point.
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Listened to some Maintenance Phase. Made the mistake, or maybe not mistake, of making a beeline for the most interesting-looking episodes ā the crazy world of Belle Gibson, J Petersonās meat-and-salt diet, etc. The two hostsā voices are hard for this undiscerning ear to tell apart, but ĀÆ\_(ć)_/ĀÆ thatās not a problem, why would it be?
Reminds me that last week I was inspired to try Anna Wintourās āgo-toā lunch order, although the caprese salad I made was with tomatoes and cheaper than $77 so really completely different. Cool story.
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Looked at NextDoor, you know, the app where you can see your neighbours being racist and complaining about the bins. Best thing I ever saw there was a suggestion that there shouldnāt be buses because there used to be chalk mines here and indeed a bus fell into a sinkhole once. This week, someone shared some well-intentioned tips for saving money in these difficult times: cover your windows with bubble-wrap, and only shower once a week, ugh.
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One lovely morning in London. At Stratford, spent a short while searching for a sign pointing to the TfL Rail service I thought I needed, until I realised itās called the Elizabeth line now, wtf, is this what being āgaslitā is? Why hasnāt this change been more widely publicised, ha ha ha.
Although it was orthogonal to the purpose of the trip, I did squeeze in a little ride on a bit of the newly opened bit of Crossrail. But I have nothing to say about it, apart from that anyone using the word ātubeā is mistaken, as itās surpassed tube quality and obviously transcends the modes.
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During the Championsā League final, went to the room above the backstreet pizzeria to see Bobby Mair (supported by Red Richardson, who Iām sure Iād heard of before but I donāt know where). Mair was great.
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On the bicycle to a wood in Suffolk to see Daniel Kitson perform. Kitson was great, deserving of his mythical status, and the wooden outdoor theatre was a delight. Would bring a blanket next time.
Thought cycling there might be insane. Itās the sort of distance the spandex and carbon fibre folks do before breakfast (100km round trip), but not me with my normal trousers and heavy bike.
- Maybe one day we can explore my dumb refusal to get some high-end padded shorts and a stiffened lightweight frame. Is it a bit like how Iām hunched over this laptop instead of spreading my windows across a wall of wide screens?
Towards the end of the journey home ā not the last few miles, but the few miles before them ā it got a bit cold and bleak, snot dribbling down. But apart from that it was lovely, perfect temperature, very little traffic.
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Have a nice jubilee. All I remember from 2002 (?) is being given a commemorative leatherette bookmark at school.
This time around, the nature of my work means no especial days off, but for me every dayās a holiday ā and as an empath, Iām happy for you normal people. In just over a week, you should be able to get some discounted biscuit tins in M&S etc ā handy if you need a tin to put things in and/or like biscuits.