and you may find yourself
...in another part of the world, sitting in the window of the Islington Yo Sushi, letting the days go by wandering around the underground, watching all the people walk past outside in the street, wondering how many of them notice the lonely woman behind the glass contemplating her fate only to then go home, and remembering that wistful expression looking out at them as they checked their tie or their makeup in their reflection earlier in their dreary day, begin their daily blog entry with 'I saw that Rilly Super in town today!' and then their commuting life won't seem so grim after all.
You may ask yourself how long since you were back home and experiencing the long forgotten delights of home made North London cuisine. You may ask yourself why up North can't you get any fish that isn't battered never mind not cooked at all, in fact you can't get anything that isn't battered north of Milton Keynes, the last outpost of civilisation as you travel regretfully up the road of tears that is the M1. How, you may ask yourself, did I get here? I can't remember where have I parked my large automobile? How did I get this beautiful blog? How did I become this beautiful wife?
And you may tell yourself this is not my midlife crisis, and you may tell yourself I'm sure I didn't order this, and you may ask yourself hmm, not sure if I wouldn't mind some gravy and scraps on that. And then an old flame, a once in a lifetime, with eyes as blue as your bluefin tuna before it was caught in muddy waters, and a smile that can defrost, skin, fillet and deep fry a frozen haddock at fifty yards comes in through the door, and you're free all day, and you may tell yourself, my God!...what have I done, but then you may ask yourself, oh sod it, who's ever gonna know?
You may ask yourself how long since you were back home and experiencing the long forgotten delights of home made North London cuisine. You may ask yourself why up North can't you get any fish that isn't battered never mind not cooked at all, in fact you can't get anything that isn't battered north of Milton Keynes, the last outpost of civilisation as you travel regretfully up the road of tears that is the M1. How, you may ask yourself, did I get here? I can't remember where have I parked my large automobile? How did I get this beautiful blog? How did I become this beautiful wife?
And you may tell yourself this is not my midlife crisis, and you may tell yourself I'm sure I didn't order this, and you may ask yourself hmm, not sure if I wouldn't mind some gravy and scraps on that. And then an old flame, a once in a lifetime, with eyes as blue as your bluefin tuna before it was caught in muddy waters, and a smile that can defrost, skin, fillet and deep fry a frozen haddock at fifty yards comes in through the door, and you're free all day, and you may tell yourself, my God!...what have I done, but then you may ask yourself, oh sod it, who's ever gonna know?
8 comments:
Rilly, you have surpassed yourself yet again. However, my favourite Talking Heads track is 'I guess this must be the place'...
Home - is where I want to be
But I guess I'm already there...
By the way, 'the revenge of gaia' means that a lot of yanks are already planning to escape to make canada their home when global warming kicks in.. So you folks up north better leave some room for us southerners for when europe turns into a desert..
Goodness Rilly, I hope you're going to behave yourself (and if you don't, that you'll tell us all about it).
Plus, pet, I don't mean to be unsympathetic - but why do you need a holiday? You have a husband, a nanny and I guess most of the children are at school all day - OK, you have to drive them there rather than letting them walk to the village school full of dirty village oiks, but all the same ...
But eminem, hubby is 'awol' so often, that rilly surely deserves a little bit of a breakette.
But what about wifey - who has she gone on holiday with ? A girlfriend ?
A boyfriend ? I'm on tenterhooks..
Perhaps, in the immortal words of Withnail, they "have gone on holiday by mistake"... because after all, most people go to the beautiful northern countryside on holiday, rather than flee it ...
oh rilly how lovely to have a new post. i was in despair of having to go a week without you or wifey...just so you know, the two of you are keeping a very cold girl going during this rilly rilly long winter in the true godforsaken north otherwise known as canada..
anonymous, thanks ever so for your kind comments. I fear that trying to digest more than one Talking Heads song at a time would only give one a bad case of heartbyrne. I wouldn't rush to move north if I were you. Even if London becomes a desert and then is flooded under the north sea it still wouldn't be as grim as up north
M&M,I'm sure I don't know what you mean! And being from up north and just a simple girl you wouldn't understand how much emotional exhaustion causes you to need a holiday as much as actually doing any work
anonymous, I'm so glad someone understands my plight, you're a rock.
M*M, if only I had seen that film BEFORE I moved to the north. I think it should be released as some kind of public information commercial shown in schools and northern estate agents offices
amnonymous from canada, I'm so glad I can be of assistance dear and thanks for visiting, really. Do you mean to say then that it really is cold in canada and that all those wolves and polar bears weren't just deliberately released to bring in the tourists and nature documentry makers? Glad to help keep the frostbite at bay, it must be the warmth of my sincerity.
You're sure on a Rilly roll. When the parody is even better than the parodied it may be time to strike out on an unbeaten track. Keep us posted
thank you debbie, and will do
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