When I was a kid I am almost positive we had a book called Buzzy’s Busy Day about this little ginger kid on his first day of kindergarten and everything we did. His name was Buzzy. Ever since then whenever I have a lot going on I like to preface the time period within which I will be doing a lot with the phrase Buzzy’s Busy. I tried to find a picture of good old Buzzy. If I remember the cover right he was standing on a chair with his hand in a fishbowl that he was about to knock over, but I couldn’t find any google related proof of this book. It’s possible I made it up. I don’t think I did, but who knows.
Anyhow, this Buzzy, she had a lot to do this weekend.
On Saturday we made it to the current exhibit at the National Gallery and I LOVED it more than anything. There was a John the Baptist head! With a very realistic neck cross-section! It was so good.
After that we walked all over the South Bank and got some dinner. I came home after that and got all my writerly gear together while Jeremy and his dad went to the Tate Modern.
On Sunday, I went to an Urban Writers Retreat. I got there at 10 in the morning and I left at about quarter after 5 in the evening with a 45 minute lunch break. I drank at least 6 cups of coffee, ate 2 brownies, listened to just about every song in my iTunes (some twice, hello Mountain Goats and Neko Case playlists) and wrote just over 4600 words which equals about 15 full pages. At the end of the day I thought my brain was going to leak out my stupid ears. Happily my brain stayed in place. I’m still not positive that what I wrote was any good, but it did move the plot along and I have faith in some of the moments created.
On the bus ride back to South London I overheard possibly the most awesome(ly bad) conversation of all time as a boy (maybe 17 or so) informed his friends of the following: “Listen, bruv, you can’t trust any girl who says she’s a virgin! They all lie man, they all lie. They think just because they got a tight poonani that you can’t tell, but it’s all lies. They bring ketchup with them, man.”
Seriously, that’s what the kid said. When he brought up the ketchup I just lost it. I stopped trying to hide the fact that I was listening in and just cracked up, then turned around and said, “Yeah man, I never go to bed with anyone without a bottle of ketchup at my side.”
It was a special moment indeed on the southbound 63.
After learning about the intricacies of the dating world, I found my way to the Gowlett to listen to Jeremy and our friend Harvey play records. While there I ate some pizza and drank some beer and had a really lovely time.
On Monday we saw Jeremy’s dad off and then spent the day lazily wandering around East Dulwich and watching movies before heading up towards London Bridge so I could be on the radio as one of the guests of The Voice of Americans with Lewis Schaffer of Nunhead on Resonance FM. The podcast should be available later this week if you missed it so don’t worry. Jeremy claims I was very charming, but then he has to say that as he’s my husband and all.
I’m still feeling a little slow and prone to typos today, but overall am happy with the last 72 hours. Especially those seven on Sunday when I felt like a real writer agin for the first time in a while.