DIARY OF A ROCK'N'ROLL ANIMAL

Comment and I will....

a) Tell you why I friended you.

b) Associate you with something -- a fandom, song, color, photo, etc.

c) Tell you something I like about you.

d) Tell you a memory I have of you.

e) Ask you something I've wanted to know about you

f) Tell you my favorite userpic from your list

g) In return, you need to post this on your own LJ.

Last night I caught a bus from work and made my way slowly up Oxford Street to Marble Arch and then on to Notting Hill Gate to meet Chas to go to the Electric Cinema on Portobello Road. This used to be my neighbourhood and i was strangely nostalgic as i watched  Hyde Park become Kensington Gardens out of the bus window. This used to be my route home to Elgin Crescent. Back in the day. i remembered how i'd saved for ages for my share of the flat deposit. Nowhere else was going to do. It had to be W11 then. I remember that when I first moved there London Transport had just introduced the zoning system. Holland Park tube was probably closest to our mansion-blocked garden 'apartment' but that was in Zone 2 and that wouldn't do at all. We walked up and into Zone 1 every time, even in the direst of weathers. Portobello on a saturday morning to buy vegetables, the cheapest we could find. Hair dye was more of an essential than nutrition in those days. Initially there were four of us in a three bed place [Penny set up camp in the giant front room as she worked nights as a croupier]. After about three months our place become the heaving social hub of our world. There were always people visiting and enevitably staying too. Not just overnight but for days, sometimes, weeks at a time. Thank god for the lock on my room door. Beds were at a premium. As i would get up for work in the morning Penny and a handful of her casino dealing chums would be unwinding in the front room with bottles of wine, plates of cheeses and fruit, Penny's favourite Marianne Faithful on the stereo. Sometimes the lure would be too strong and i'd end up missing work and having a cheese and wine breakfast with them until they dropped off to sleep and i'd go out and wander through Holland Park down to Ken High Street. Independent at last.

Once i had got off the bus at The Gate and had a wander around i saw how much it had changed. Actually quite a dump now. Nothing unique about it at all. All the interesting shops replaced with generic 'high street' clones. Saw some nice houses for sale in an estate agents window though. I reckon you might need 2 million for something halfway decent now. My rent was £200 a month back then. Imagine....

i just realised that my keyboard dyslexia has made a mockery of this venture.

GAINT? ..............................should be GIANT.  of course they won't let me change it now. bastards.

Sheesh....

GBJX

Drakes was a blast. the room was gorgeous. the free standing maxi-deep bath in the bay of the window was an excellent touch. we were attended to by very cool staff. excellent room service. hyper-spicy bloody mary at 7am? no problem sir. Chas treated me to a late night medley from Sweeny Todd and i reciprocated with Jimi Hendrix's version of Like A Rolling Stone from Monterey pop festival but Lulu's Man Who Sold The World wasn't happening for either of us so she got the elbow quick-sticks. the sun shone brightly throughout and the ice cold air was perfect for the times; everything looking sharp against the sky. The Gingerman restaurant was everything they promised it would be and Good Friends still has the best crisp belly pork in the country. we also got a freebie from the hotel for the royal pavillion which was a bonus as Chas had never been inside before. all in all a great weekend. i expected nothing less. the usual railway fiasco on the way home took us through tulse hill [?] and elephant before jettisoning us at the new st. pancras 'international' station. taxi beckoned.

just an extra day to wait for payday really. what a drag. whatever, brighton tomorrow. i love hotels. they're so... foreign.