Flashback #2

Flashback 2, the spotty and unpleasant younger brother of flashback 1, will not be as long. I don't remember as much and I don't want to bore you all with more introspection and lists of details.

However there was a wedding, hurrah! It was a lovely day, Rachel and Russ looked appropriately happy and I'm sure they new McKays will be very happy together for a long time. We stayed in a barn with scousers which wasn't as weird as it sounds. I managed to lock myself out within the first hour to be rescued by a colonial. The wedding itself was good. There was a free bar, I danced like a had a stroke and was a little too keen at the buffet.

Other than that, Sophie and Kelvins hospitality remains as good as ever. Mark took Norwich's first match humiliation well and it was great to see him. It was a very good weekend indeed.

Since then Patrick rode back into Kent like a conquering hero, raping and pillaging as he went. It has been Catherine's birthday. We went upto London and sat in Hyde park. We were entertained by roleplayers. Not nurses, secretaries, firemen etc, but people dressed as elves pretending to be from some magical realm rather than Basildon or wherever. I wonder when reading fantasy books, playing warhammer and other such behavior becomes insufficient for satisfying your magical needs and you take to running around a busy park dressed as a ninja, wrestling and pretending to summon creatures. I want in. I had to leave early to go to a bbq where I ate my own body weight in red meat, cancer ahoy.

I have started to have proper grown up Spanish lessons. A slip came through the door offering lessons in New Ash Green and there is only so much the CD can do. I don't have the book that goes with the CD so as it gets more complicated theres more and more that I need explaining and the angry Spaniard is in no mood for explanation or mercy. So I went to her flat and was given sheets and it felt like being in school. Except that, at my school at least, there wasn't a copy of the encyclopedia of erotica on the shelf; it's off putting. I can't pronounce her name which is awkward and I can envisage becoming a problem in Spain. I'll be a rude English man calling everyone Pedro. According to her people in the north talk 'proper' Spanish.

Things are quiet, I hope you are well

love love love x