unexpected prowl

"If the sun comes out in winter
No one will complain
So I have to spare a thought
For misunderstood summer rain."

That's from a song my friend Matt wrote...I was humming it this afternoon. I felt as though I were a part of a secret club: coming back from the Hamlet job, my train was delayed, so much so it didn't make sense to go home and then back into the city. So I disembarked at Blackfriars and decided to walk to Charing Cross, taking my time to read plaques, of course. I hadn't realised it had started raining whilst on the train, but that didn't deter me. It's just good English weather--and it's been so nice lately that it was hard to feel upset. The lilacs are out! The rear vanguard of spring have arrived, and the air is full of their scent. And I had remembered my brolly. So I snapped it open and set forth along Victoria Embankment. I was the only happy person in the rain, kicking puddles and humming to myself, finding odd staircases and learning that St. Clement Danes had been completely destroyed in WWII--and there's a nice statue of Dr. Johnson outside, looking happy as he holds up a book. Well, I would be too if I was immortalised holding a book. Gazed Longingly at St. Paul's--d'y'know, that St. Paul's Cathedral, one of the major, if not THE major landmark of London, is one of the few place I have nae been in this magic city? But Lisa wants to go too, and I promised I'd take her, so I did not go in. I continued on toward Charing Cross (once I spotted Nelson's Column it was easy) and as I drew nearer I could hear music, so I decided to go whole hog and check out Trafalgar Square where I Saw an Elephant of Epic Proportions.

Then I had to go to work. Work was easy--Galem made me stand by the door because the cash register was there, and I got to tell people that the door didn't open until six. I harbored suspicions that Galem was making me stand there because I was a...uh... "haha, Galem, whats'amatter, you don't think I'm up to putting chairs out? Let's get the menfolk to do it, huh?" Just ribbing him. "Well, actually, to be honest, I thought it would go quicker if we had two guys do it."

"*"

"What? Really? Who says that outloud? Is this 1958? The hell?"

Distracted now, but still happy to be out on a Saturday night, feeling underused. Full house. Have to suck it in to get by some of the punters, but we manage to get everyone seated, and the show starts twenty minutes late. I dwell on the fact that my boss reminded me to move quickly because there's a queue and not on the fact that he bought us all beer. Was looking forward to detoxing with a friend, until he spotted a train to New Cross and ran to catch it, leaving me to journey to Brockley alone, except for my journal, the new one I had to buy because I found myself in Trafalgar Square, in the rain, happy, with no paper. Why do I always find myself in that situation.... I think about the people with the umbrellas who had dogs with no umbrellas--people dry, dogs wet and I think how I would never dress a dog up in stupid costumes, but I would buy them a raincoat and keep the fur on their paws short so it wouldn't get drippy bedraggled. And the Elephant was wicked cool.

Home now, I have a potato, an egg, a tomato, all in one pan, saves on the washing up. I'm reading a funny book about Australia, and I drink some orange juice. Check mySpace. Realise it's one o'clock and the only thing keeping me from bed is three feet of space (small room).

Good night.