I'm not sure how to end the chapter I'm working on. It wasn't in my original outline but I think it needs to be there. I'd made it too easy on the characters and they were getting out of town without any really trouble. They need to be on the run. But now my main character is having a bit of a crisis and I'm not sure what she will do. Kill? Not kill? Run? No, she'd never run. But I'm not really sure.
Anyway. In other news, since this is for me. I'm down 4 pounds. Lots to go, but it is a start. Have been blow drying my hair so that it actually looks like I've done something to it on purpose. Putting some makeup on. And I realise now that it's a bit odd to be writing about this as if it is earth shattering. I guess it's just because it's been so long since I really bothered. That's the bad thing about being a writer and working at home. No reason to push yourself.
But anyway, got my eyebrows done yesterday.
They look better but O what tortuous things we do to ourselves. I mean, seriously. And why can't anyone in London properly do waxing? They all want to do the threading thing and even if you get your eyebrows waxed, they still want to finish up with the damnable thread that makes me want to scream. Actually, it doesn't make me want to scream. It makes me want to stick a chopstick in someone's eye.
First world problem. Yeah.
Went to a bar by myself last night, at least for a little while. Had to get a babysitter for Max and had to get a three hour block minimum but only needed about an hour of that. So with all that time to kill I figured I'd check out Portobello at night and hit the Mau Mau as I've been thinking about using it for a scene in the book (possibly). After all, it's got this vaguely dodgy air about it and live music. It's a good spot, actually, though it was really weird that their drinks menu had things like cosmopolitans and sex on the beach on it. It's just not that kind of bar. It should be beer and whiskey. But they also have no idea what bourbon is.
New girl, long wavy red hair, so young she makes my teeth hurt, bartending...
Me: Do you have bourbon?
Me: (slower) Bourbon?
Her: Um, I don't know what that is. I'm new. Let me ask. (pulls over the cooler, edgier looking Asian dude with his hair pulled back with a headband and asks.
Him: Sure, yeah, yeah. (points to a bottle of Jack Daniels)
Me: I'll have a gin and tonic, please.
You can't screw up a gin and tonic. It's safe.
At any rate, stage in the back, curtains framing it on either side (which hide the loos...gents on the right, ladies on the left). Dark interior. Christmas lights above the bar. Lights hanging down in those metal cages. A couple of leather couches in the back. Small stools and tables against the side. Some seats at the bar itself, which is rare in London. That's kind of an American style bar thing. Pubs here don't often have that.
Two guys chatted me up a bit, both black, one from Granada. One obviously a bit flirty. I'm not sure what it is, but about the only guys who ever flirt with me are black. Is that weird? I'm fairly equally friendly to everyone and while I don't flirt exactly (obviously -- and I've got my ring on anyway), I'll talk with anyone. I want to know their stories (the guy from Granada lives in Shepherd's Bush and was in the neighbourhood after going to a funeral yesterday, but don't be sad as it was someone old and it's okay, man, everything's all right, but wouldn't jazz be nice after a day like that?...but he wasn't the flirty one, the other one was...or, at least, he might have originally intended to be flirty, but he early on worked in a question about whether or not I had a husband "doesn't your husband drive?" when we were talking about not getting out of London...). Not that people flirt with me very often in general. I am, after all, officially old. I've hit another bracket on surveys now.
I have two silver hairs. Right in the middle. On top. I'd actually rather it was a few more. If it's going to go, then go big. Don't be so half-assed about it. Give me a silver streak.
Yes. The older I get the less I care about some things. Which brings me around to the music. That's all I really want, to walk around the city with the music in my ears. My own soundtrack. Kick ass. Repeat.