February 15th, 2004


Meat Fare

It's farewell meat from tomorrow. There was a farewell of sorts yesterday over in Dagenham yesterday [so good it happened twice - Hungover Ed.] as Mr Ed opened his doors to various Georgian friends. We ate khinkali. I now know how to make them, but you won't get an invite over to eat them until the end of Lent. I've been trying to think of a vegetarian alternative but it's hard. The thing about a really good khinkali is this fatty juice from the beef and pork contained inside. I'll think about it though.

But my head...There's a point amidst the drinking and the bonding and the eating and the toasting where the world could not seem better. And then there's the next day. Could be worse. I only received one proposal of marriage during the evening. I'll probably be married by the end of the week. Not. But I do have a appointment today at 2 outside Aldgate East tube station. I am, for better or worse, a man of my word and the decision extracted by a forceful but not unappealing personality to such an assignation is one I shall have to keep. In some ways I hope that she's too hungover to appear and I get to return home and get back to work. You, the reader or rather myself reading, probabaly think we could do with some romantic intrigue at last. I'm not so convinced. Or at least, I'd need to establish a sober rapport with her rather than one built on a foundation of dumplings and vodka.

Gid and Cath. Congratulations. Fingers crossed. Touch wood, mmm, seems you've done that already. Apologies for incoherent text messaging. Things were fairly far gone last night.
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