Mostly gay
Is what today is. Actually, it’s very gay. I’m sat here all alone, yawning my head off after a particularly long drive back from the continent yesterday this morning and feel like not doing much work.
WordPress has had a move around and I can’t find stuff anymore, and there was a bizarre comment from some strange Russian-speaking chap who was going to drive around Russia without his girlfriend and was asking for suggestions of what to do. Why he thought I’d have a sugesstion of what to do in such a vast country sans gf was beyond me. I have plenty of suggestions of where to buy the nicest cheboreks(Khimki train station btw - opposite side to the town), where the pointiest shoes are (off Svobodi Ulitsa), and I have a great suggestion for what to do on a dull afternoon, but it involves almost stalking marine soldiers in their winter uniform. All of this is unlikely to appeal to my strange postee though, and these activities are all pretty much Moscow based.
I’m also having a day of deep and meaningful self-questioning of an existenial nature, and it’s scaring me enough to want to go and get extremely drunk. Well, I would do just that if it wasn’t for a weird ear thing I have at the moment - it feels like I’m constantly at sea. The only time the earth doesn’t really feel like it’s moving is when I *am* at sea. Given that my house isn’t particulalry sea-worthy this could be a bit of a problem. Anyway, after the last few days events, I’ve convinced myself that I should never go anywhere with anyone ever again. It’s a terrible realisation that the reason I like travelling on my own is perhaps because I’m a miserble old git who can’t cope with other peoples indecision. In fact, scrap that: I’m just destined to be that old woman with lots of cats and bags of string living in the middle of nowhere. Oh, and with a taste for fine wines.
Right. Back to the shuffling of paperwork for me and pondering where cyclists keep their spare pants when they go off on cycling holidays in Northern France. One of life’s great mysteries.
-Moosh
