e*toile

Today I finally became a British citizen! Went to Camden council to affirm my allegiance to the Queen and pledge my loyalty to the UK. I was presented with my certificate by the Mayor of the Borough of Camden. - I didn’t even know that boroughs had mayors! He was dressed in a fancy, old-fashioned fur-trimmed red cape with heavy gold chains along the front. I could barely suppress a smile, especially since he was slightly podgy, with a crew-cut hairstyle and somewhat hesitant speech - totally at odds with his grandiose costume and fancy title!

I also went to a Kings of Leon concert in Hyde Park. My first ‘real’ concert (my only other experience was with Pink Martini at the Round House) and an open-air one too! (Tick! for another thing on my Thngs-to-do-before-I-die list) I wasn’t really familiar with the songs so couldn’t really be swept up in the moment as much as other fans. Although I still tried to push myself as much to the front of the stage as possible, like a true groupie - and I managed to come as close as 5-6 rows from the stage at one point! Most of the time though, I was people-watching and being alternately amused and aghast by concert-humanity.

To top up an excellent day, my X-pole got delivered today! I had started pole-dancing classes (although I’m still Level 1, and an under-performing student at that!) and had bought a pole to do conditioning and practice the spins at home. I started pole to strengthen my arms for climbing, but it’s funny how it has taken on a life of its own!

It was the Boy’s birthday yesterday. Knowing how much the Boy loves food and eating, I had booked a table at Alain Ducasse at the Dorchester, which was the last big restaurant in London we haven’t done, and one of the remaining gaps in our UK gastronomic map.

Unfortunately, we both caught a cold over this past Bank holiday weekend, when we got caught in the rain in my (haphazardly, last-minute-planned) birthday weekend in the Costwolds for the Boy. After a mere week of sunshine, our reliably depressing and grim UK weather descended again, giving us dull drizzles and grey skies over the crucial long weekend.

I didn’t want to cancel the table, despite me feeling like hell, because I didn’t want him to remember his birthday as a day where we’re both glum, ill, depressed, and stuck in bed with a cold. So… I pulled a long night the night before to finish up my work, took a sick day and Beecham’s Night Nurse (which really knocks me out) and stayed in bed all morning.

We persevered and dragged our sorry, sniffly asses to Alain Ducasse, and were a pretty sad sight: blowing our noses on tissues in between courses, clearing my stuffed nose with Vick’s Inhaler, popping Beecham’s Day Nurse pills after our first course, and running off to the toilet to cough up my funky-coloured phlegm (eeww.. i know. only once though!). But it was pretty comedic at the same time. The waiting staff were all very sympathetic and felt quite sorry for the state we were in. And I’m sure we’re the only people who’ve ever eaten at Alain Ducasse while being so ill!

It was almost a bit of a shame to waste the food. I was rather afraid that my cold would inhibit my tastebuds or kill my appetite and I wouldn’t appreciate the food. But I still did! To be fair, I would have enjoyed it more had I been in the pink of health (as it was, I felt so weak after my first course that I was wondering if i would have the strength to finish our tasting menu). But it was all worth it: for the comedy factor, and for making it a special day for the Boy (it would probably an unforgettable birthday too, given the comedy factor - so it’s probably just as well! ;)).

I’m just hoping I’ll be hale and hearty on my birthday - one tragi-comic birthday a year is enough!