Love and London

I went up to London this weekend to see Carina, cause Carina needed to see me and I needed to see her and we both needed to smoke, drink and talk until our eyes could not be held open by even the best quality matches (I have a feeling that the non-Poles will find this last statement slightly odd, but they will have to agree that it makes sense). On Saturday morning we met up with Claire, who I was certain was coming to London on a completely different weekend, and who ignored my presence in London completely, especially while I had had time to express my conviction on the inevitability of me not being there to see her via an apologetic e-mail. And I will never, ever forget the look on her face when she saw me. That image will make me happy for a long time. I mean, if you have just one person in your life who pulls such a face when seeing you, then you’re a lucky, lucky lady (or man, actually). And I have that on top of everything else, including being nursed and fed comfort food by Carina, who therefore officially weaned me off my longing for daddy when sick. I mean daddy made me tea. Carina makes tomato soup with smoked bacon and mozarella and then you get to talk and smoke and drink until you eyes can not be held open by even the best quality matches. Now, who can beat that.