sometimes, for no particular reason, like now, I really miss new york. i can imagine being there right now - it's about lunchtime so everyone is doing brunch and sweating like a pig if they're eating outdoors and freezing their tits off inside. sunny days , midtown manhattan - nothing like it. i miss being there, i miss, however vicariously, being a new yorker. sometimes london seems more like an enormous open sewer than anything else. and it's so fucking cold. and rainy. all the time. i exagerate but you know what i mean.

i don't want to be here - i want to be lying in central park and thinking about going to ruby foos for some cheap suchi or perhaps calle ocho for dinner. Or, well i could talk about restaurants in manhattan all day. best meal ever? hard to say. probably indigo which is no longer there for it's laid backness and seriously inventive food. Or for the ultimate in grown up dining Alison on Dominick Street. I once took my then girlfriend there. the bill (for just the 2 of us) came to $350, which I quite happily put through company expenses. and who says romance is dead. can't remember what i ate but do remember drinking brandy at $40 the glass. thems were the days.

I am never ever drinking again. have absolutely no clue how i got home. my left hand has gone numb. why oh why oh why.

ack ack ack. never ever anything bloody ever.

cool bbq anyway. plus post bbq party crashing. plus late night bar . . . omg i am such a complete arse. fucking hell.

Does anyone else apart from me ever forget to take their glasses off in the shower, and then start wondering why the world has gone all 'bubbly'?

It’s bizarre. when i have nothing to do all day except hang around the house I never have anything to blog about. I mean I’ve been away - went surfing in cornwall, have been out to Yauatcha several times (a place I can’t recommend enough) but that seems to be about the limit of my activities. I’m bored bored bored.

Speaking of Yauatcha I just read the reviews and was shocked. I can only assume that the old farts who wrote them prefer being sucked off to in some french michelin restaurant rather than being treated exactly the same as everyone else in an environment that can really only be described as ‘a bit Barbarella’. Losers.

Go there. It’s incredible. And not that expensive either (dinner + cocktail + wine + service = £35)