Catching up
Tuesday, July 12th, 2005 10:17 pmYesterday was my last day at GlobalInternetCompany. No lunch, not even a card. I bought them cakes. Boss's Boss was very nice to me.
Then -- delayed only by the closure of half of the West End, including a nasty moment when I was on the inside of the police cordon -- I headed for the Tower of London, for my leaving party. This took place in the Moat (see Flickr) with
ladymoonray, a fine picnic and copious pink fizz. Many speculations about the aerial goings-on in The System of the World. (Trinity House not exactly in a direct line, etc. Very Dramatickal, though, against a lovely sunset.)
There was also Opera, in the form of Donizetti's Anna Bolena, performed within spitting distance (not that we did spit) of the site of Anne Boleyn's 1536 execution. The opera was a labour of love (or, less charitably, a vanity project: the Creative Director also took the title role, and there were points -- usually high notes -- where I thought she'd been overambitious) but on the whole very nicely done, though there was a tendency on most parts to overact. This is the sort of thing that gives opera a bad name.
It was delightful, though, sitting (second row back, with no one in front of us) and listening to one of my very favourite operas, and watching the sky slowly turn a deep, deep blue, and the lights around the Tower turning the ancient stonework luridly red.
Today I went to the beach, and it was fab. Brilliant luminous blue sky, a few clouds, a stunt-flier practicing out over the estuary (I'm sure he stalled a couple of times, looping): gorgeous light: clear water sans jellyfish.
Tomorrow? Beach.
Real life, mostly Move-related, resumes Thursday.
Then -- delayed only by the closure of half of the West End, including a nasty moment when I was on the inside of the police cordon -- I headed for the Tower of London, for my leaving party. This took place in the Moat (see Flickr) with
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There was also Opera, in the form of Donizetti's Anna Bolena, performed within spitting distance (not that we did spit) of the site of Anne Boleyn's 1536 execution. The opera was a labour of love (or, less charitably, a vanity project: the Creative Director also took the title role, and there were points -- usually high notes -- where I thought she'd been overambitious) but on the whole very nicely done, though there was a tendency on most parts to overact. This is the sort of thing that gives opera a bad name.
It was delightful, though, sitting (second row back, with no one in front of us) and listening to one of my very favourite operas, and watching the sky slowly turn a deep, deep blue, and the lights around the Tower turning the ancient stonework luridly red.
Today I went to the beach, and it was fab. Brilliant luminous blue sky, a few clouds, a stunt-flier practicing out over the estuary (I'm sure he stalled a couple of times, looping): gorgeous light: clear water sans jellyfish.
Tomorrow? Beach.
Real life, mostly Move-related, resumes Thursday.