The morning started with a trip to Westminster Cathedral. Perpendicular gothic or not, the excess of 18th century tombage BORED me and we'll be skipping St. Paul's. On the other hand, lunch with trishpiglet was a treat ... she was as lovely in person as I expected and lunch was most tasty. I was given kind compliments I was unable to accept with grace ... clearly, I can think my clothes can look nice but still can't believe it about myself (though I desperately want them to continue!). Odd that ergotia's "I like your style" was so digestible ... why am I still so low on myself after all these years? Blah blah blah ...
The transit laughed at me upon my return, with the declaration of "fire on Route Z," "Circle route down between X and Y," and "due to terrorist alert on Downing street routes Zed and Naught are closed," which meant shadowdaddy had a nice wait as well. Curses.
The afternoon at the Saatchi gallery was most amusing. I can't believe how much art there I've seen or heard about before, from the giant preserved shark to the bedroom of madness to the head made of frozen blood (it melted recently, not sure where it all went). We enjoyed it a lot, and although seeing it means we'll miss the Tate Modern altogether, I say, "To hell with the 20th century, show me the 21st!" And we got it in spades.
Tonight is the Bolshoi's "Pharaoh's Daughter," and I'm pleased to say that my trip to Whittard of Chelsea (look it up) took care of most of my tea needs. I also picked up a load of unmentionables on the way out this AM (just had to share that!).