blast

i had the greatest weekend - it was brilliant, it was wicked.

on saturday i went to the portobello road market in the early afternoon. it was lots of fun to just stroll through the market alone, lots of antiques and other nicknacks that were interesting (and that i'd never buy). i restrained my spending tendencies and managed to emerge from the market with only 2 purchases - a couple of books.

at the end of portobello road, i sallied forth and wandered into a more dodgy area. there were drab council flats and not many people around. felt very 'shady', i found myself quickening my steps. this guy wearing a hood passed me by on a bicycle, then u-turned and came up to me mumbled "do you want dvds" or something. freaked me out a bit. i just muttered back "no", and he left.

then i wandered somemore and came across a very ethnic area - everybody was moroccan (or so i gleaned from the shop signs), the little shops along the street were selling ethnic foodstuffs... it was a bit little-india-ish i guess. felt strange being the only chinese (or non-moroccan, for that matter) there, after having spent weeks in the more densely-populated cosmopolitan parts of london.

finally, i headed to a tube station and took the tube to the london bridge station, thinking i could go visit the shakespeare's globe theatre and the tate modern.

in the end, i just walked past the globe (you have to pay to enter, and i was feeling broke - no wait, i am broke) and spent all of 10 minutes in the tate modern before realising i was too tired to properly appreciate the visit. and so i left and headed back home (home being somewhere along gower street for now).

.

sunday was brilliant.

i've got the nicest flatmates ever... in our communal kitchen we've got a large calendar planner thing, on which we noted down our individual birthdays.

early sunday morning, the cards started streaming in. almost all my flatmates gave me a birthday card, with simple "have a great birthday" type of messages in them. it was thoughtful of them to remember.

then i entered the kitchen and found out that one of my flatmates ash had baked a birthday cake for me at 1-2am the previous night, with the 'spiritual encouragement' (read: they all sat around and watched her bake ;P) of a few other flatmates. felt quite touched 'cos i honestly wasn't expecting anything.

then it was off to the 'scrum in the park' thing with sar, hel (flatmates) and hel's friend dan. pity jonny wilkinson wasn't at regents park (he was away playing a premiership match). but it was cool to see the rest of the england team (which seemed to consist mostly of new players - i only recognised andy gomarsall, mike tindall, ollie barkeley, and will greenwood) in 'action' (just some light public training).

however, what stood out most from our foray into regents park was the wind. yes, the blast-in-your-face chilly gusts that pulverised us the whole time we were there. it was worst in the stands were we were sitting, poor hel was wearing an off-the-shoulder top and she was positively freezing up. i didn't wear enough layers of clothing and was also feeling my nose turn numb.

i made sure that the next time i went out i wore enough clothes.

anyway... the real action started that night. i came back home and entered the kitchen to find balloons and streamers all over the place - turns out a few of my flatmates had decorated the kitchen for my birthday while i was out. then this guy from the basement flat (let's call him als) came into our kitchen (that's how communal it's become), sat on the counter and started asking me what i was planning to do for my birthday.

initially i was like, "er nothing really."

he then launched into this "you should be exuberant on your birthday!" mode and started suggesting stuff to do ("do you want to play pool?" "i always miss the ball." "so do i! but it's not about winning!")... in the end he suggested a party in the kitchen. when i revealed that the last time i had birthday party was when i was 12, he and my flatmates went, "oh that settles it!" and started collecting money all round to go buy some beer and alcohol. someone went to burn a 'party cd'.

it was all quite surreal.

then came the wicked bit - the actual party.

15 people (flatmates and the guys from the basement flat, who are practically flatmates as well) sitting around the kitchen, some wearing newspaper hats (guys obviously), playing party games which involved drinking, kissing (tongue included at some stage), and stripping. it wasn't as bad as it sounds - it was much worse ;). it was so hilarious, and some of the guys were so 'on' throughout. i was a spectator for most of the time, was fortunate enough not to 'kena' the forfeits except for once or twice. i'll refrain from going into details here, but suffice to say i'll never be shocked again if i see guys french-kissing each other. or guys pole-dancing. or girls french-kissing each other.

it all sounds very decadent, but it was truly a blast.

earlier, the cynical side of me figured and accepted that my birthday was a good excuse for als and everyone to have a party.

but towards the end of the night, after they'd all sung happy birthday, after i'd blown out the sparkly candles and distributed ash's cake, als and chris and sar asked me if i'd enjoyed myself - they seeemed to sincerely hope that i'd like my birthday party. i was pretty touched my their thoughtfulness. especially since the guys don't even know me that well.

it feels a bit strange to have your birthday thus celebrated by people you've known for barely 3-4 weeks.

but it also feels really nice.