dare to dream

I went up to Kings Road yesterday afternoon, and I must say I don't really enjoy going up there much anymore. It just felt snobby and cold and uncomfortable inhaling all that exhaust from the clogged up traffic in the street.

Whenever I take Misha up to Kings Road with me, I always get the worst kind of comments, the kind where she is treated as some sort of status symbol. Huskies are not rare or expensive in the US. Here, although they are rather rare, they are not any more expensive than a greyhound or jack russell (just guessing of course, I could be wrong here). She just looks very pricey. Well, at least to the people on the King's Road in Chelsea. To the lads having a tall can of beer at lunchtime in the park, she looks a bit scary because she's got "Marilyn Manson eyes!" That was a new comment we just got yesterday. (I suppose Marilyn is ripping off David Bowie, or maybe he just wants to look like an animal?) I'm also surprised I haven't heard this comment before, but then again maybe Mr. Manson doesn’t have that many fans. At least not too many who hang out in parks.

So anyway, I went to the Waitrose grocery store up there, which you think would be nice, but its not, it's got a cruddy feel to it. When I was there a horrible screaming match broke out between a woman and a transvestite in four inch lucite heels, everyone standing around the store half watching, pretending not to care but not turning away either. I felt like I was in San Francisco's Tenderloin at 1 am. (Hey, maybe the express liquor-and-cigarette counter on 5pm on a Friday is a dangerous place in London? Everyone can't wait to get loaded cheaply at quitting time?) One woman was kicked out of the store and the police had to be called to break them up.

It began to rain as I made my way home. It always feels nice to reach the river, no matter which bridge I happen to take. The Albert Bridge lights twinkled in the mist and rain. I cut through the park, even though it was dark. The towers from the power station strangely glowed in the distance, even though they weren't actually giving off any light. At night they appear as lightest grey against the dark grey of the sky. Those towers are always watching over the park, they can be seen from almost all parts of it, no matter what time of day. To me they signify home and being on the quiet, cozy, welcoming side of the river.

Today centred around food (just like my last entry! I am afraid I am becoming a bit food-centric). I went to this quaint little block in Belgravia where I picked up my new favourite bread (county sour dough) at a wonderful French Bakery called Poilâne. I then discovered a few doors down this place called the Chocolate Society, which I of course had to check out. I took home some hand made dark chocolate truffles which were out of this world! Too bad they are not participating in London Chocolate Week, which is next week! I then did the rest of my shopping at boring Sainsbury's, which barely fit in the little box on the back of the scooter. I came home and had a lovely long bath, and then set to work making diner. We had duck pot-au-feu, which came out marvellous.

Yesterday afternoon I also I went to the laundromat around the corner to wash our quilts because they won't fit in our washer/dryer. The sign out front said "under new ownership". I got to talking to the woman who was working there, since I was the sole customer on a late Friday afternoon. She said she had just bought the place yesterday, and that they (her family I assume) already had another laundromat, but this one was in a really good location and they planned on offering door-to-door services and such. She seemed excited about it, and she struck me as someone who was hard working and ambitious. And that these things just came to her naturally. We got to talking about my housing situation somehow, and she was telling me how we should buy a flat instead of renting one. I honestly never even thought about doing this here. It would be possible, and may even save us money, but it would be a huge hassle. But honestly I didn't see how it would be possible considering I don't even have a job at present. Then it struck me. I always do this. I automatically dismiss things because they are out of reach. It feels like almost everything is out of reach to me right now, so I might as well dream. But I so rarely do even this, I'm almost afraid to dream. What I am afraid of? How did I get to such a point in my life that dreaming is difficult? It seems silly to come to this realization while watching a purple quilt twirling around in a jumbo-sized dryer, but there you go.