Shades of grey

The weather is dull. Apparently, this is the grey-est January since records began. It doesn't surprise me. I'm convinced that the day I took those pics in St Andrews was the last day of proper sunshine in 2006. It's not even raining. Most would count that as a blessing, but I want something meteorlogical to happen. Anything really. Sun, rain, hail, snow (if only to watch the terror in the eyes of the newscasters and weathermen/women as the snowpocalypse arrives). Even sleet would be enough of a shift to bring a smile to my face. But it seems that January lethargy extends to the weather and I am regretting my decision not to go to Key West.

It's been a good weekend. Thursday night, heady in the rush of driving triumph, I went up to ultra-trendy Camden to see my mate perform at a club called Underworld. Rubbish clubname aside, it was a brilliant gig. She signed autographs afterwards. That was weird to watch. I drank too much Guinness.

Friday's excitement was a rare venture into the wilds of Fulham. We discovered an awesome Italian restaurant that kept it simple and gave us great food at reasonable (especially for the area) prices. The wine was yummy too. After filling ourselves to the point where we had to reassess our commitment to beer as our drink for the rest of the evening, we trekked towards the Salisbury Tavern on Dawes Road. I've had the odd drink here over the last ten years and it's a decent boozer. Bumped into an old mate from St Andrews who was celebrating her 11th anniversary with her now husband. Weird. Most of the clientelle were at the apex of Sloane-dom, with glass-cutting posh accents and enough Prada and Gucci to make a St Andrews Yah blush. In fact, the scene at the bar was spookily like St Andrews. So much so that I had to drink beer and whisky to distract myself. It kind of worked. As did the mission of the night, which was to get the birthday boy drunk. Fun night. And the cab home was only a tenner. Bonus.

Yesterday I met a really lovely, nice, pretty, single girl. There was all sorts of rugby and a lunch and the team I support lost and there was curry for dinner and loads of other stuff from yesterday. But the important thing was meeting someone nice. Not that I think there's a future in it (but there may be), but it was just cool to meet someone new in London who is single. This isn't coming out right. She asked for my email address though. Which is nice.

Today someone came to look at the house. She really liked it but wouldn't be looking to buy until May. Her brother or brother-in-law (couldn't remember which) is Seamus Heaney, Nobel Laureate. She was nice. But I don't want to sell the house to anyone, even someone who's sibling(-in-law?) is one of the world's greatest living poets.

I'm listening to The Doves; The Last Broadcast. Good album.

I'll write for the rest of the day. Then I'll watch a DVD. Hopefully something to make me laugh and set somewhere there's sun. Just to remind me what it looks like.