...from outer space.
Friday: after hours of delay (fog) finally arrive at Gatwick where I'm met by John. Spend very pleasant afternoon strolling along the seafront and round the shops (Brighton has loads of independant shops that you won't find anywhere else). Its really good to see him again but I'm knackered by the evening and so retire to my hotel.
Saturday: meet Figgy (and Mark who'd come along to say hello) at the station and off up to London to see Wicked. Show is just Fabulous with a capital f. Idina Menzel (who plays the wicked witch) has an incredible voice. Manage to drink one third of a G & T before pouring remainder into Fig's glass. Poor Fig has to drink three and two thrids gins as we'd already ordered interval drinks. I can report that he struggled manfully. Then back to Brighton but because I'm too knackered we are unable to go out round the bars waving our programmes for all to see (this is what we usually do and we get ignored by everyone but it doesn't matter because we think we're important).
Sunday: round to Figs house to watch him and his Mum and Dad and Mark eating lunch. We then go for a stroll along the sea front in glorious weather and settle in one of the sea front bars drinking and listening to the buskers. In the evening I watch Dirty Dancing (fab) and Prime Suspect (even fabber) from my hotel bed!
All in all a fantastic weekend marred only by the flight delays both ways.
Got a barium swallow at 0930 tomorrow (so Jane, if you're reading this I won't be in work first thing although I'll come along once evrything's been done) and also need to pick up the letter saying its OK for me to start work.
Food finally arrived tonight. Hurrah.
And that's all folks. J x
2 comments:
Ah Yes. Le Weekend. A Joy to see my Best Mate after the medical hiatus that was major surgery, recuperation and mass weight loss. That Pony Skin coat (yes folks it really is off a pony - and I was the one who persuaded him to buy it) never looked so good. It fitted like a glove, all that were missing were the blinkers.
Wicked is wicked. The finale to act one is stupendous and - through the fog of two double gins - the second act was just as good. We decided to disagree on the conclusion of the show. I thought it was a complete cop out, but sentimental old Jon felt it appropriate. Aw.
Ma Warren was overjoyed and overcome to see the old boy and the sunny seafront was a dazzling pleasure with me lovely chum.
What a perfect weekend.
The only thing that could have improved it wa if Elphaba (the Wicked Witch) had gone 'HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA- Miss Gulch'. But she didn't.
You can't have everything.
Blimey J - you have a better social life as a delicate recuperative invalid than I have as a hale & hearty bright young babe. rrrrRespec. Can I engage you as my social secretary? Your pay will be my heartfelt thanks and more flea collars than you can shake a stick at (neither of which will be taxable, as heartfelt thanks has no second hand value and the flea collars are strictly off-record, kno-wot-i-mean).
But awww the poor ickle pony... gush of sentiment in spite of me wearing leather shoes oooo hypocrite. Did you know that horses are VATable in this country as they are a luxury, but not VATable in France because they're an everyday item there, albeit as chops. Bet it was worth getting up this morning just to hear that little snippet.
xxx
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