Tuesday, June 17, 2003
Back in Blighty.
*Sigh*
(Lot of sighing going on in this blog. Sorry.)
Sunday was the day for the people's party for and by the people in Christiania, of which I have written before. 10.000 men and women turned up to support the place and to hear some music and drink a few beers. The workshops were open, for outsiders to sneak a peek into the not-so-mysterious world of alternative life-style. It was pretty cool, and, as always there, very peaceful. The music was okay, it was mainly bands I didn't know (due to my absence from Danish radio), and suddenly! There he was - the hero of my youth, still beautiful, thinner, long and slender, horny as hell --
Wrapping himself around the microphone-stand, singing beautifully - I completely forgot about Allan Vegenfeldt, but I still so would --
(Sorry 'bout the crap link. Here's some more crap from Aarhus)
Back in London: weather nice, although too humid, boyfriend lovely, although too hairy, someone got shot in Chinatown, Tony Blair is unpopular in a variety of ways too complicated to describe in an innocent forum as this, got a new bathroom, that is almost finished which is great, but not quite finished which is not, and a Tricky-gig last night of which some was fantastic, but it just went on and on... I actually managed to fall asleep, a first, I think. Love Tricky, though. Small and muscular. Full of energy. Had a sore throat and sounded even more, well, throaty than usual.
Today has been full of rain and I'm pondering the ease with which I could get used to living in Copenhagen. Tidying and sleeping on the sofa. Giving myself a break until tomorrow when job-hunting starts.
*Sigh*
(Lot of sighing going on in this blog. Sorry.)
Sunday was the day for the people's party for and by the people in Christiania, of which I have written before. 10.000 men and women turned up to support the place and to hear some music and drink a few beers. The workshops were open, for outsiders to sneak a peek into the not-so-mysterious world of alternative life-style. It was pretty cool, and, as always there, very peaceful. The music was okay, it was mainly bands I didn't know (due to my absence from Danish radio), and suddenly! There he was - the hero of my youth, still beautiful, thinner, long and slender, horny as hell --
Wrapping himself around the microphone-stand, singing beautifully - I completely forgot about Allan Vegenfeldt, but I still so would --
(Sorry 'bout the crap link. Here's some more crap from Aarhus)
Back in London: weather nice, although too humid, boyfriend lovely, although too hairy, someone got shot in Chinatown, Tony Blair is unpopular in a variety of ways too complicated to describe in an innocent forum as this, got a new bathroom, that is almost finished which is great, but not quite finished which is not, and a Tricky-gig last night of which some was fantastic, but it just went on and on... I actually managed to fall asleep, a first, I think. Love Tricky, though. Small and muscular. Full of energy. Had a sore throat and sounded even more, well, throaty than usual.
Today has been full of rain and I'm pondering the ease with which I could get used to living in Copenhagen. Tidying and sleeping on the sofa. Giving myself a break until tomorrow when job-hunting starts.
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