This is my Sparkle blog post, other people have been restrained and just given the odd highlight and general feelings, but I’m going to bore the tits off you with all the gory details, but thinking about it the people most likely to be reading this have detachable ones anyway

This year I made a decided effort to go to Sparkle, big time. Haven’t been able to go before, as well ins an awkward time of year for me, multiple family birthdays occur at about this time which my “male” presence is often required. Plus really until this year I wasn’t really “out” enough to go anyway. But with some careful family management, I was able to get away for the appropriate weekend this time, in fact I blocked out a whole long weekend with a plan to spend as much time in girl mode as I could muster.

Preparations started a couple of weeks before, I mean what was I going to wear? What followed was frankly far to much shopping, as only a limited amount of what I already had was deemed suitable. This is a lie, I could of gone with what I had, but wheres the fun in that One side effect of all this is now I have more clothes than I can actually store I think I will need to buy another suitcase (or 2 to put them in). Dressing was put in hold during this time, mainly to sort of build up the desire to spend the entire weekend dressed, as I can (and did) tire quite easily But well I did have to try on the clothes and get used to the shoes, so I just wore them in my flat without makeup and much to my shame, shaving, fortunately my flat isn’t overlooked, as I looked a right plonker. But I eventually ended up with 6 acceptable outfits (but not perfect, you can never the right find stuff in the matching shade of orange you are looking for), 2 daytime sensible, 2 daytime not so sensible and 3 nigh time clubby ones, plus footwear, underwear, accessories and hosiery and backup hosiery, plus makeup to match.

Accessories proved to be pain, I wanted bangles but I can’t get regular female sized ones over my hands! Ended up getting some cheap plastic ones and hacksawed a cut in them so they could stretch while I was putting them on.

Got a couple of pairs of boots adjusted too, from KG Shoes (who are fairly local in Camden). £40 quid each to loose a couple of inches off the calf, craftsmanship was good and on one pair the work is impercetible, on they others, with a slightly different design, it’s more noticeable, but they did warn me boots with a band over the back seem where hard to adjust and weren’t likely to come out perfect. It’s a lot to pay, but now I actually have 2 pairs of nice boots that fit both my feet and calves, woot I think I’ll be going back to get some more boots done. Recommended.

A casualty of my shopping trips was my debit card no I didn’t over spend, I actually lost the bloody thing, in SuperDrug on Seven Sisters road I think, while buying perfume and topping up my phone. Cancelled the card over the phone, fortunately nobody had taken advantage of it and I wasn’t out of pocket, but this made getting money a bit difficult, HSBC couldn’t replace the card in time for Sparkle Ended up drawing a load of cash from my savings account (different card) and using that instead, but that nearly caused a problem in itself.

Another casualty (planned this time) of this period was the hair on my upper body. On Thursday I went to get a chest and (embarrassingly) a back wax, my first. I read some advice and had a pint of something quite strong and 2 paracetamols before I left. I was due to a session with “Joey” at a local salon, Joey turned out to be a very polite and efficient Chinese girl. OK this is going to sound horribly sexist, but was actually glad it didn’t turn out to be a bloke. Half an hour later and lots of grimacing, the hair had gone (98% of it anyway). It did hurt, quite a bit. “No hot shower for six hour” Joey warned me as I paid up and dashed to a pub opposite for another pint of something strong to take the edge off. I gave it six and a half hours before sinking into a lukewarm bath. As usually my skin didn’t really like this sort of treatment and it went red and blotchy, and although its been going down, it’s still a bit red as I write this days later. I’ve also heard this gets better with repeated waxings (and they get less painful), so its an experience I’ll have to repeat. The things we do for beauty.

Social life during this frenzied period was limited, just a trip down to see Alette, in bob mode, for a full on, day long session of hard, hot and sweaty …. DIY. I helped paint her skirting boards a bit (and that’s not a euphormism). Lovely to see you again Alette, hope you get the car sorted ASAP and thanks for saving me from a lonely weekend where I would of only spoke to shop assistants.

So the Thursday before rolls around, just about manage to squeeze everything into a suitcase and rucksack, clean up and try to give myself French Manicure. Make a mess of it, wipe the stuff off and just go with a basic pink. Nails are a bit of a mess and I’ve taken a chunk out of one of them Plan to travel up in bob mode, but don’t really mind doing it with done nails, nobody seems to notice anyway. Friday, first tranny grade shave of the weekend and lug the stuff to Euston to get a train, find since I’m paying cash on the day for a flexible saver ticket, its rather expensive, £60, could of got a first class return for £40 on the web if I got organised earlier. Curses.

Train ride was fast (2 and a bit hours o Manchester) but pretty dull, past time by try to spot other trannies on the train travelling up in bob mode, a couple of blokes looks suspiciously well groomed seem likely candidates, but the man in the seats in front spent the entire trip talking to a couple sitting opposite he just met, during which he admitted to them he was going to TG festival and needed to buy more shoes Tranny express or what.

Got to Manchester at 13:45 and found my hotel, Ibis on Portland Street, turned out not to be very far. First fright of Sparkle, I wanted to (had to) pay cash, but they required ID for this and I didn’t have any with me, as had lost my debit card and just brought enough cash to cover the weekend instead. Bugger, I offered to pay in advance, they ummed and urred and admitted the website didn’t make this ID thing clear when I booked, so they took my money. Phew. Got to room (basic Ibis box, functional and fairly comfortable) and changed into one of my “sensible” daytime outfits.

Now I started to get a bit nervous, had to go out, but a new city (as I said I’ve never been to Manchester in my life before), not sure where to go, not sure what to expected, er er, texted Alette a couple of times and got some kind words of encouragement, double checked I had everything and went out. Got to the lift, a group of women where already in it, and older one steps out, says oops wrong floor and steps back in, I join them, but a teenage girl among then starts to crack up with laughter. Not sure if it was her mother/gran? getting confused with the lift, or the sight or me or both, but its a bit unnerving, I falter in the hotel lobby and decided get a large glass of red from the bar (first of many that day) to steady nerves. That helps, finish it and I marched off to Canal street.

Find it without too much trouble, it’s not far the the hotel. So this is it the famous Manchester Gay village. To be honest it looks like a street full of fairly upmarket bars in a trendy regenerated inner city environment, which is OK. Find the AXM bar, which is to be the hub of Sparkle for the weekend and run in to Lisa Black and her friend Nicky (first time out, way to go girl, beats my 5 minute dash to the off license after dark any day). Lisa and I had been PM’ing on UK Angels, so I know her a bit and she kindly invites me to dinner on Friday with a group of other Angels (good as it would of been McDonald’s otherwise), plan is to meet at about 7 in the AXM bar, so what to do for the rest of the afternoon? The main festivities where on Saturday, so after a quick circle around the stalls in the AXM (bought my Sparkle wrist bands) and another glass of wine, its shopping time.

I had checked out the map beforehand so I roughly knew where the shops, the famous Manchester Arndale centre and Selfridges where, so head off and only got lost a bit on the way

Out now in muggle land, did get noticed, a couple of shouts if “It’s a Tranny” from the great unwashed, but its mostly OK and I’m starting to feel good strutting my stuff, and when I feel good, comments and funny looks seem to melt away. Also seem to feel very tall, OK I’m 6′3″ in my heels, but in London I still get people (male and female) taller, but in Manchester, it might be my imagination but do people here seem to bit a bit shorter here? (queue lots of angry messages from 6′5″ Mancunians)

Wander through the centre, check Primark, Newlook in the Arndale and a few others, buy a cookie and get some essential supplies from Hotel Chocolat and head towards Selfridges. Need to go to MAC anyway (who have a concession in the aforementioned shop), my MAC cremestick type eyeliner thingy had run out and I found the Maybelline equivalent (well it was a lot cheaper) to be pretty useless, so I wanted another MAC one. Find MAC eventually (hiding in the window, where I should of spotted them instantly). Get eyeliner, spot another T-girl having her makeup done in MAC, it’s Tranny heaven isn’t it Wander around the store, nice, it smaller than the one on Oxford street I think. See D&G leather jacket to die for, but at £1350 its a little bit out of my budget (and they didn’t have my size anyway ;))

Head back to hotel, stop at Boots for bits and Coffee Republic for caffeine. Fun Freshen up and get back to AXM for 7 where I meet the other girls, Lisa and Nicky again, Jenny P, Jessica Hart, Suzi, Imogen and oh Names, bugger I should take notes. Wine is drank and polite conversation is made and then we head off to Velvet at the top of the street to dine. We have to wait a bit for the table and its a squeeze to fit us all in, but we manage and a good time is had by all. Sparkle is really start to kick in and there must of been 2 or 3 other large tranny groups in this restaurant alone.

Food wasn’t bad, desert was great, more glasses of red where sank Thanks for everyone for putting up with me, really enjoyed the meal. Find Jessica Hart can talk as much as she posts Little oops with the bill, then Imogen remembers to pay and we are square. We return to AXM down canal street after the meal.

One more glass and now I’m a bit hammered, and Helen “Lack of Social Skills” Love is in effect, just stare out into space, doing a bit of people watching in my fuzzy state, ‘fraid I wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Decide I’m to tired and pissed and say my goodbyes and wobbled back to my hotel. It was only actually about 11, but I’m a bit drunk and tired, was up at 6:00, been in heels and makeup for 7 hours and had one to many glasses of red and needed bed. I know lightweight. Took off as much makeup as I could, hanged into my new supergirly pink jim jams and crashed.

Wake up on Saturday at about 6 with a small hangover. Actually was woken at about 3, my room is facing the main road and on the first floor, and noisy pissed up revelers (not Sparklers, regular muggles) are making there way home , took a while to get back to sleep again. Once properly up decided it was the right time to go for it, wild daytime outfit today.

80’s revival is in full effect Pity I’m old enough to remember it from the first time around. Finally manage to get ready by about 10:30-11:00, decide to skip breakfast in the hotel, instead get some more bits from a local Boots (hair grips to hold my Barnett down under the syrup) and totter (yes definitely totter, I’m in very high strappy shoes) up to a branch of Costa just off Oxford Street (Manchester has its own oxford street!).

Girl in Costa serves me with a smile but the other customers seem to ignore me completely, can’t think why Finish breaky and totter back to canal street, feet are hurting already, get some party feet gel pads in a Chemist on the way and fit them, but they don’t seem to help much.

Get to Canal street, but not a lot is happening, I’m early I guess, suddenly get the craving for sweets and decide it would nice to work my way trough a big bag of them while watching the days proceedings (no diet this weekend ). But there’s not a newsagent to be found on Canal street, so I start to wander further afield looking for sweets and end up in China town.

Find the restaurant the Angels Saturday night meal is to be held at and a little Asian super market that has some sweets, get odd Chinese chewit like things that taste, er interesting and some chocolate Pocky sticks. Should of got the Hello Kitty sweets purely for kitch value. Totter badly back to AXM, feet are starting to protest.

Miss English Rose competition is going on and a sit back and watch a master class in female deportment Ok its a laugh, Tiffany Tuesday is running the show and the Sissy Princess herself Miss Michaela Marbella is judging.

Somehow (Miss Tuesday is quite persuasive) I’m roped into it, and contestant number 20 struts her stuff in her killer heels with a book on her head. Actually I do it quite well, even though I say so myself, and the book only falls off when I try to sit down on a chair after my walk Didn’t win though Fun is had by all, after all that I wander around AXM and the park

Meet a few people , the legendary Becky (I’m slightly star struck), Darcy and Kitten :-

Laura Handbag (who kindly snapped me)

Nicky and Lisa again :-

I wanted to go and watch the Sparkle netball match, but Nicky and Lisa (locals) tell me how far the sport centre is I admit defeat, my feet are now killing me. I wimp out and return to my hotel room (via a chip shop for lunch). These are the instruments of torture in question :-

I change shoes and have a little lie down tired. Managed to get going again about 4 or 5 and return to the park to watch the show. The first band I see Elena really rocked, I liked them a lot and a refreshing change from the campness, actually they where the best act I saw at Sparkle IMHO. Bought the CD.

After that there was a Cher tribute, I still can’t figure if she was GG or not, but pretty good anyway, but then it was time for tea, I had arranged via UK Angels to meet up with a group for an early meal in China town, find half of them already in the park and we head out.

Many thanks for Suzi, Penny M and Mrs Penny, Kay Denise, Jessica Hart, Cindy B, Linzi, Jenny D, Rachel H and Helen, Cerys and especially Bea (the organiser) for putting up with me, I stood out a bit, everyone else was elegantly dressed in evening or daytime attire, with great nails and makeup and there was I in PVC leggings and fishnet, chipped nails and a plastering job, oh dear, plus my limited social skills made conversation difficult Food was reasonable and the staff treated us with total respect, even though we where outside the village, so I chalk it up as a good one. Return to the park to watch the rest of the entertainment.

There’s a dance act that isn’t bad, a generic boy band who try hard and a surprise guest, the now infamous Kit Kat Dolls

They aren’t too bad, lip syncing, some of them look really good. One of the head line acts comes on, Roweta, who was on X factor or some other TV show I don’t watch, anyway, she’s a brassy lass with a good voice who knows how to put on good show.

After that its Miss Sparkle, but it doesn’t connect with me so wander off back to the hotel. I’m a bit tired, but I really wanted to dancing, so change into my Saturday night dancy outfit and head back out.

Get a bit of stick on the way back to Canal street, a group of lads starts shouting at me, one “it’s a guy” over and over and another “How much” repeatedly (We are all hookers now or is my outfit just to much?) on Portland street. On Saturday night, 100 metres from the village, what where they, tourists? This lowers me a bit, also by now I’ve lost everyone, don’t really know where to go, I can’t get into AXM party as I don’t have a VIP pass (I think I bought one off some on Friday but I lost it), so wander around Canal street alone aimlessly, it starts to rain, have a drink in Eden, but it’s not happening for me. Everywhere looks like a bar, not club, don’t know where to dance apart from the infamous “Naps” and I can’t work up the nerve to go in there. Eventually I just retire back to my hotel a bit dejected. Sparkle is a party really, I don’t do parties, limited social skills and all, its OK at a meal where I can shut up and eat, a show I can watch or a dance floor where I can get lost in music, but proper socialising is beyond me Also going up to people I vaguely recognise from web sites etc (especially “big name” people) always seems a bit weird and stalkerish to me, I can’t imagine them being pleased by me approaching them, but then again, on reflection, a few people did just that to me, and I can’t say it felt that bad, so may bee…. er dunno. Socialising is hard

Sunday, up a bit to early again, weather looks grin so I decide to wear one of my more sensible outfits, just jeans and a sweater. Skins is starting to protest, shaving is hard work and the makeup needs a 2nd go (and it ends up a bit orange), it takes ages to get ready and even then, to be honest I still look a bit rough, tis the 3rd day in a row en femme (OK 2 and a half), which is far more than I’m used to. Have the hotel breakfast, an all you can eat continental, and make sure I get my monies worth head over to Canal street by about 12 to see if anything if going on, but its very quiet, check my mail and stuff at AXM. There was a big Sunday Lunch organised on Roses which it seems everyone is going to, but I didn’t book did I, so I’m on my own again (wasn’t hungry after that huge breakfast anyway). So what to do, wander aimlessly along Canal street, trying to made awkward small talk with people half recognised from forum Avatars? no, decide to go shopping and sightseeing instead. Well I can’t spend my entire weekend on Canal street can I. Um and er where to go, I know the city centre and Arndale is close by and fairly safe, but I’ve heard of this huge Trafford centre, but it’s miles away, unknown, less safe, scary… While I’m thinking about it the bus to the Trafford rolls up, so say sod it and jump on, it’ll be an bit of an adventure.

The bus winds its way out of the city centre, past the university, the suburbs and out into car land, the weird bit that surrounds most towns and cities in the UK that only seems to consist of duel carriageways, retail parks, offices and industrial units. The scale is all wrong for people, cars rule. Manchester isn’t so bad though, at least it does have a proper centre with public transport and stuff, there are entire towns in the east Midlands that are almost totally car land. I find this area a bit weirder than most cause I don’t actually drive, its more than a bit alien.

Get there with no trouble, and my, what a place, its well overdone, gaudy and just that bit tacky, a true temple to consumerism. Actually I quite like it, and it puts a smile on my face, but possibly for the wrong reason. The entrance way and food hall are just gloriously over the top. I wonder if the architect is a tranny

Well I got there, so shopping had to be done, found a sort of shrug thing that had “combat” style pockets on the sleeves in Newlook, never seen anything quite like it before, it would go perfectly with black combat trousers, and yes it even fitted (just) and a reasonable £15, got that. Did a few more places and had a beverage (Java chip frappuccino Yummmm) nearly got more shoes in Barratts, but catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror, yikes, lipstick is flaking off, emergency, emergency. I was using some Revlon “Colour Stay Overtime” stuff and it wasn’t! decided I didn’t want to use that again if it flaked off and concluded it was to light a shade for me any way (I love blondes in pale lippy, but that look just doesn’t seem to work with my thin lips ) So trip to MAC in Selfridges (Manchester has two Selfridge’s, thats just greedy) and get another darker ordinary lippy called “Twig”. Weird name, but it goes on well and looks quite natural for me. MAC staff are lovely as ever.

Selfridge’s is in the middle of the centre and I notice the big thing dome there on the ceiling, so I reach for my camera to take a picture. OOOHHHHH SHITTTT where’s my camera, panic, panic, think, think, wheres the last time I saw it, oh yes, hanging rooms in Newlook, I hung it up while trying the shrug on and dam must of left it there. Dash back to Newlook as fast as my boots could carry me (which wasn’t actually that quick) and gasp to the girl manging the changing rooms has anyone handed in a black Panasonic camera. Pheewwww, somebody had handed it and the staff returned it to me, Huge thank you to who ever did that Kept a VERY tight hold of the camera for the rest of the day. Take a picture of the dome and get sprayed with some nice Juicy couture perfume from a promotion stand.

Bit more shopping, find the actually shops in the centre are slightly disappointing, the units are a tad small so it looks like many of them have to go with a smaller shop fit and can’t hold there full ranges, the city centre is better in this respect. But peerserver, and find this darling little cropped denim jacket with sort of epaulets in Morgan, on sale to reduced to £21 from £64! and the biggest size they have fits to. Make absolutley sure I don’t leave my camera in the changing rooms again. Feel I’ve done the Trafford now, find a leaflet detailing a shuttle bus and Tram service back to the city centre, and the little kid inside me side says “Take the Tram, Take the Tram”, so I exit towards the bus station.

On the whole I enjoyed my visit to the Trafford centre, even with the camera panic, it’s rather pretty in a over the top sort of way and I got some nice stuff. Shop staff where all great and I think I only got a couple of quiet comments and odd looks from the muggles, pretty accepting really, still had that “I’m the tallest person here” feeling though. Raised my mood quite a bit, Sparkle and Canal street was a bit unreal and too much for me at times, so it was nice to be “normal” for a bit.

Bussing it to the Tram stop, and a group of lads got on just before the last stop, they got a good look at me, and felt the need to mention loudly that I wasn’t the average girl next door, one practically started singing “Jawline, Jawline, its in the jawline”, I guess in reference to my rather un feminine one. Got to the tram stop and I avoided them, sat in a different shelter (It had started to rain now) with two teenage girls waiting for the next tram. The girls turned out to be OK though and they confirmed I was on the right platform to get me back to town. Tram trip was less er “eventful” and in a away, fun too, if for the sheer novelty on riding one (only been on once before in Wimbledon, and that wasn’t en-femme).

Saw this crazy Hilton hotel from the tram that was really tall and thin that go wider at the top, tried to get a picture but it didn’t come out right. By the time it got to town it was chucking it down, carry on to the centre, so I can go back to Primark, you see that combat shrug type thing just demand some 3/4 length black combats to go with, and I had spotted some bling ones in Primark on Friday before, so I had to return to town to get them.

Spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around a fairly quiet and damp

The centre is pretty big, in a way bigger than London, London has a number of actually fairly small shopping areas’s, its sort of spread out, but other big cities like Manchester and Birmingham seem more concentrated, with a huge centre with everything in it, makes a nice change. Got hungry later and found an out of the way branch of Cafe Nero for a coffee and Sandwich. Here I curled up in an armchair for a bit with a novel, “Command Decision : Book four of Vatta’s war” by Elizabeth Moon (I am a sad Sci-Fi Geek you know). The book (and in fact the whole series its from) is a ight space opera, nothing to heavy or deep, just some escapist fun, recommended for those who like strong Heroines, Space Ships and implausible coincidences

Actually curling up on a compy sofa or armchair in a quiet cafe, bar or pub during the day with a good book and a drink alone is something I take great pleasure in (usually en-bob, this was the first time en-femme, but it felt the same), never get the chance to do it enough. Read a few chapters and went back to the Hotel, via Sainsbury’s for supplies as I figured the evening might be a wash out.

Read a bit more, fixed my slap and wandered back to the village to see if anything was happening during the evening. It wasn’t, well for me anyway, T-girls where a bit thin on the ground now and I couldn’t find anyone I recognised. Even got one of those “Hello MATE” piss take shouts from a bloke, actually on Canal street, humph! Checked mail at AXM and had a last drink, got a bag of chips and sauntered back to the hotel. Wig and slap off, Sparkle is officially over for me. Eat and drink my supplies (knew they would come in handy) and read till its time to sleep. It’s been quite a weekend.

Monday morning and its back to bob, leave nail varnish on though as a conciliation, breaky (sneak a cheeky chocolate muffin out from the buffet for later), pack and check out in time for the 10:35 train back home. It’s still raining.

Oo the train home at about halfway home, I take a trip to the buffet to get a drink. Get back to my seat crack open my drink and put my headphones back on. At this moment my MP3 player (set to random as usual) decided to play “Don’t look back in anger” from Oasis, which seems about right.

On the whole it was an “interesting” weekend, my lack of organisation and social skills probably the biggest barrier to having real wild time, that and staying to long and draining the tranny batteries. But I did get to meet some great people in the flesh who I’ve only read message board posts from before who tolerated me, and saw some new places and things, a unique experience really, so yeah, on the whole positive I would go again, better prepared, but the dates for 2008 are slap bang on my Mothers birthday, not an event I can possibly get out of, so I probably won’t be Sparkling again for a while

Spectrum Is Green 
Atomic batteries to power 
Turbines to speed 
All engines start 
We have ignition 

I declare this blog open. May the Flying Spaghetti Monster bless all who sail in her.

This is the blog of Helena Love, Girl from Mars. Wait a minute, Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, Oh, so  you are one those. Yes I am one of those, Transgender, Transsexual, Transvestite, Tranny,  T*, MtF, Cross Dresser, Drag Queen, who knows what really, labels get me down, so I’ll be T something or other. I’m also a Geek, well more of a Dork really, I have the requisite Geek/Nerd (lack of) social skills and interest in Science fiction and computers etc, but don’t quite have the intelligence for it, so I’m just a a bit of a Dork really. Anyway this is my blog, well more of a journal really, don’t expect insightful thoughts on the pressing issues of the day (look to the blogroll on the left for this), more “This is what I did when I was wearing my blonde wig” sort of thing. To be honest this site more of a tool really for me, to marshal my thoughts and function as an external memory (my internal memory has parity problems and is prone to too many errors), but if you want to read it, be my guest

The posts below this where actually posted on  journal on Roses, cut/paste. My all consuming vanity has lead me to create a “proper” blog to use instead though, which I can control and customise as I see fit. All the cool people are (well where 3 years ago) creating blogs nowadays, so I thought I would jump on the band wagon.

2 to be precise, pages 26 and 27, oh and a pic on the back and one on the contents page

I got my copy of Repartee issue 55 today, and yes they did use my pics (see The Devil Wears Primark post from the 16th of april) in Laura Handbag’s Notes from the Handbag Fashion editorial. To be honest I think I don’t look my best, the pictures are a bit dark considering how sunny it was that day and that evil handbag person forced me to smile making me look all old and wrinkly (there’s a reason I scowl in all my photo’s you know ;)). I would of photoshopped me a bit more

I did actually have to buy a copy as a gratis copy and a disk with the photo’s on failed to materialise, but I guess I can just manage the £8 it cost me, but I see on the Sparkle ebay auction they are selling the next shoot with Laura for a starting bid of £149, so I guess I got a bargain

Anyway, many thanks for to Laura and the Repartee staff for this opportunity to be a model for the day

Footnote:
The auction has finished and the winner paid £475 for the next shoot!  

Emotional ups and down all week, plus no work to do, then loads of work, but by Friday things started getting better.

Find they did use my shots in Repartee, have ordered a copy of the latest issue, but it hasn’t arrived yet, so I haven’t seen then.

Decided to spend another Helena day on Saturday, skin wasn’t playing ball (I hate my facial hair), but a bit of concealer covered up the worst of it.

Got out the house by about 11:20 and tubed it to Charing Cross to meet a 12 O’clock train. Hello Alette, again Yeah its been 3 weeks on the trot, but we are just friends and she was coming to London anyway, the emotional whirl has been resolved.

We wander up through Covent Garden, get a brush at Charles Fox, look at pretty things in pretty shops and get a very worthy veggie lunch in Neal’s Yard (although the 2 Caipirinhas spoilt the health benefit a bit :)) Meet up with Joshie and hit the Soho and the West End.

A few shops, work up nerve (had company see) to go into Agent Provocateur and Miss 60, nice stuff but way out of my price range, buy booze on old Compton street (Apple Schnapps, a personal favourite), Starbucks and oh, buy new shoes in Barratts (Barratts Tall and Small range for teh win) . Have a particular outfit I want to wear that demanded shoes instead of my normal clumpy boots.

It started to get well warm and I’m well overdressed, start to melt a bit, get a bit shinny, but the MAC holds up quite well.

Try to take a bus, but the West End appears to be in gridlock.

Jump off and tube it to Old Street, actually regret doing this, really should of let the other two be by then and I was flagging anyway. Joshie was meeting up with friends to celebrate her birthday, have a drink, but it really is time to let the young people have their fun and say my goodbye’s, Bus home, via Budgens to get food and wine. Not a bad day, just a bit hot and long, tired now. At home, now, drinking rose and listening to 80’s music and wearing the new shoes.

Everybody wish Joshie happy birthday for Sunday

Footnote
Crashed out fast asleep a few minutes after writing this.