Those of you who are aware of Twitter may be amused to hear that Tower Bridge is now at it. What a happy, eventful and productive life the old girl seems to be leading. Hurrah for Tower Bridge, and her endless opening and closing!

If you feel tempted to become a follower of Tower Bridge (and, let’s face it, who could resist?), here’s a link

I’ve posted a couple of times about my love of derelict London, and I’m happy to hear that the fantastic Derelict London website is releasing a book on 24 April. You can preorder it now from the publisher and get a 35% discount if you quote the promotional code “derelict” before that date.

If you’ve ever peeped curiously through a gap in a boarded-up window or wondered why the building you pass every day is looking distinctly the worse for wear, this is very definitely the book for you.

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I recently attended a mate’s birthday party at the Duke of Cambridge in Islington, a short walk from Angel tube station. I really enjoy organic beer so it was a most welcomed visit after an intense week. When ever someone says ‘organic’ they often think of expense, fortunately I think this is becoming a past time. This pub has a nice selection of Pitfield ales, all around 3 quid. I especially recommend their IPA, a nice hoppy brew that goes down easy, but has just enough bitterness to awaken your palate. After trying them all, I became quite jovial throughout the evening, so did my mate who took in glass after glass of organic chardonnay. They also serve organic spirits as well.
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I had the wonderful pleasure last night of attending a private screening of Naoko Tajima’s debut feature film “The Fifth Mind.” The Soho Hotel off Dean Street boasts a screening room with a capacity of 100. The seats are swank red leather, and there is loads of leg room. It’s pricey to rent at £250 an hour with a minimum of 2 hours, but, if you’ve got the cash, this is such a nice venue, and it’s in the heart of Soho, so drinks after are a must.

“The 5th Mind” is a harrowing portrait of two siblings torn apart by a shared childhood experience. One sibling has completely blocked abuse, incest and madness. The other has created 5 minds to deal with the pain. This is a beautifully shot and expertly directed film, but, as the director says, it is not a happy story. If you get a chance to see it, schedule drinks after.

I was supposed to go straight home after as PJ and I were going to do some late night editing. But, drinks at All Bar One (as much as I loathe the place) with old mates was too difficult to pass up. I went to school with Naoko, and there was a contingent of LFS alumni there to commiserate with me about the trajectory of our careers.

After drinking and crying, crying and drinking, we all went for a falafel on Old Compton Street. It’s that place across from The Admiral Duncan…can’t think of the name, but it’s the one with the marquee of the ridiculously good looking people eating falafels (pictured above). What is great about this place is that you can get the basic falafel for £3.90 then top it with a selection of veggie items. I went for loads of top ups* to get in my 5 fruit and veg, although I’m not sure if that’s exactly “legal.”

After, we went to Dan’s place in Soho for a good old fashioned LFS house party. He’s got a tiny, little room that we all piled into, but one wall is white and bare for projecting films. And, cinema geeks that we are, we watched a beautiful nature film set to music, drank and smoked (cause you can if it’s a house party).

All in all, it was a lovely Saturday evening.

*OK, this is gross, so if you are a delicate flower, just skip this part. You pile the top of the falafel and pita with veg. Then you eat down until there is no more veg. Then you pile more stuff on. Repeat until you are finished or about to explode like a gold fish.

Everybody seems to be totally chuffed about the Lord of the Rings musical opening sometime in June. It’s been all over the papers, and especially the Guardian seems to be wetting themselves over it. But, I tell you, I hate the sons and daughters of dogs. They are loud and obnoxious and they prance around naked. In fact, PJ wants to start a blog consisting entirely of naked photos of the Lord of the Rings cast. Our bedroom window faces the dressing rooms of the theater. It’s so close that, if you get a good wind, you can lob a spitball from our window to their’s. It’s not the nakedness that bothers me as that’s quiet. It’s the happy opera-like singing that they burst into at all hours of the day and night. And the drunken late night parties that happen in their courtyard, the sound of which carries up to our window so loudly that it wakes me up at night. Do us all a favor and save it for the stage. For heaven’s sake: we live here, and you are only visiting.

So color me, like, totally surprised. Free tickets to “The Drowsy Chaperone” were dropped into my hands by an unsuspecting PR agent. I say unsuspecting because I don’t do theater (I’m more of a film person), and I REALLY don’t do musical theater. But, there I was anyway, with a hangover and a dodgy neck and in no mood for prancing and dancing. But, the show is on at the Novello, which is literally right around the corner from my flat, so I had no excuse not to go.
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It was my mate Rich’s birthday last night, so I agreed to Fabric, and promptly thought: Jesus, I am too old for this no matter how hard the sound system rocks. Their website is quite cool, but it is no indication of what goes on down there, which is a lot of crowded, sweaty dancing (even in the VIP lounge, dahlin’) loads of male posturing, especially in the co-ed toilets and a lot of fab tunes. I was there with Yvonne, two Rock Stars, a TV Producer, a writer turned CEO of a web design company, a shit-hot designer and a shipping magnate. I really had to do a bit of a reality check. Yes, this is me. I am really here.

Now that Big Brother seems just a distant memory and the Oscars are over, London needs a new talking point. This week the newspapers have united in exposing the scam that is excessive overdraft and bank charges. As someone who has lived off her overdraft for more years than I care to think about (like the rest of the UK population), I know all about bank charges. I’m used to seeing £40 come out of my account every few months for spending £100 over what has been agreed. I also remember a phone call I had from my bank (First Direct) offering to refund my bank and credit card charges, remove my annual fee for keeping an overdraft and decrease the interest on my account. ‘Is it my birthday?’ I asked, after I heard this happy news.

‘No,’ the bank man replied. ‘You’ve been a loyal customer and we just wanted to give you something back for sticking with us for so long.

‘Wow,’ I said. ‘That’s the best news I’ve had all day.’ And it really was.

Today is Darwin Day — a non-religious holiday to celebrate science and humanity.

February 13 is the birthday of Darwin (and Lincoln) and I love the way the Darwin Day organisers encourage us : “Let’s have some Lincoln-Darwin Celebrations”!

It’s a perfect Londoner’s holiday: Darwin has strong connections with London and this is a holiday that all of the varied cultures and religions of London can enjoy.

In retrospect I had an idyllic childhood even though I hated school, had spots until I was nearly 40 and wore baggy clothes to hide my humongous breasts that attracted attention wherever I went. Still, I was lucky being American that I never had to go through the grueling entrance examination process that faces every 13 year old child here wanting to go to public school. All the good London schools are oversubscribed with children looking at a 1-20 chance of getting their first choice of school and parents looking at fees of £10,000/year+ for sending them there.

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