Last night, I went out with my team from Park Avenue Disabilities Resource Centre - a service that I have managed for the last three years - to get a bit messy over pizza and wine. All went well - we went for ice cream afterwards in the brand-new gelateria across the road (very Winchmore Hill).
The night before, however, there were strange things afoot in N21. Firstly, the Lesbian Seagulls (trading under the temporary name of The Hamster Recovery Team) came second in the Half Moon pub quiz. This is not unusual in itself, but is peculiar in that we lost to a team other than Phil & Co, our regular nemisis. Secondly, at around two pee em, an overweight, but not unattractive, man was seen to clamber in the front window of a downstairs flat on Station Rd in a state of total undress. There is no basis to the rumour that he was drunk. Not at all, officer.
Here's a picture of my Ma. She's having a party tonight in celebration of a special birthday. Everyone has to dress as something beginning with the letter B. My brother Gareth is going as a butcher. Hmm, what shall I go as?
More tomorrow.
