Barcelona

Right, well ive gone through just about every possible procrastitative activity imaginable (bebo, facebook, horoscopes, online dating, the guardian, the irish times, le monde, le figaro, cups of tea, people-watching in the library, and so on and so forh) so blogging is my final attempt to exorcise the displacement activity and banish messing from my bones, so that I might finally begin to do some work. It has to be said, I have only just been plucked from my meditarannean retreat and cast back back into the unforgiving ant-farm that is London. Its sort of like being ripped out of an Almodovar film and dumped onto the set of Eastenders. (Minus the nun’s impregnated by transvestites named Lola and other sordid bits…) But you know what I mean. The exoticism, the sultry heat, the beautiful men with dubious haircuts (the mullet is alive and well, be warned..), the bubbling possibility of excitement at ever turn. Now its back to the Tube, English accents (although I might as well be sitting in the lobby of Kappa Zeta Pie Sorority/Fraternity since LSE is overrun by yankiedoodle summerschoolers), overpriced EVERYTHING, and fairly mediocre weather. Ah well.. I do actually love London, just suffering from temporary culture shock, despite having gone through process of acclimatisation by passing through neutrality of Belgium. Anyway… Ive temporarily run out of things to moan about so I shall leave some pictures of the beautiful barca to soften my bitterness!