So, this is what normal people do on the weekend

I had forgotten what normal people do on the weekend - minus books and exams. I had a really nice weekend. A little bit of tv, (window) shopping with the girls, pub gaping, then yesterday, a really lovely afternoon at the Natural History Museum and dinner and drinks with the girls - the latter was really illuminating. lol. I love girl talk over drinks. It's like a life highlight.

And to round it all off, I have taken a page out of the TFL workers book and have gone on strike. I did not set my alarm, and even though, somehow by some black magic, I was awake at the time I needed to be up to get ready for class, I rolled over and went back to sleep. I have reached some sort of saturation point and today was the day to exercise my rights. lol. But why is it when I take a strike day, it suddenly becomes a sick day? Can't a girl enjoy a truant day without a valid excuse cropping up? Ugh. I feel like mess and still need to get on the bus to Sainsbury's to get some stocks for the week. I have a dotish class all week, every day, for the next 2 weeks, from 9 - 5, hence the strike.

Cafe Chino in South Kensington.
Say NO to Cafe Chi-NO. lol

So the dinner yesterday was really out of desperation and an unwillingness to go somewhere else. And as students, one has to look at one's budget hence - Cafe Chino. What.A.Disaster. I am always wary about places that have people hovering like vultures at the front door trying to get customers to come in. If your food is great, your reputation should get customers coming in. But hey, they were cheaper than some of the other places and in Kensington, well...cheap is rare. lol. But wow...I wish I had read reviews before going there. Reviews like - "Better die of starvation than go there!" lol.

The first table we were seated at was jammed against the wall so you literally had to suck your guts and ass in to fit. So we moved. The second table was a complete nightmare - next to the kitchen and it was like the dishwasher had a hatred for utensils cause he kept banging and crashing stuff, much to my annoyance. So we moved back to the tight squeeze table. Then this waiter, clearly underpaid and under-sexed, because he was the most disgusting and surly creature ever - was a complete hospitality nightmare. The food was edible and tolerable, thank God, but then this waiter whose entire body screamed "I do not want to serve you, smile at you, be helpful" informed us that they do not accept card payments. In this day and age? REALLY? So I think, again, out of laziness and partly out of spite, we left our payment of 40 odd pounds in coins. lol. Count that you bastard and look really hard for a tip. Nothing drives me crazier than bad service and this waiter was the poster child for it. Hope he liked the Polish coin we left for him.

The pub, cannot remember the name, was worlds better and besides the blind (obviously) woman who came up to me to tell me I looked like some singer, who I later Googled and realised was a complete and utter aesthetic disaster, the evening was lovely.

Gonna pop some painkillers and head to the store and come back and laze in bed for the rest of the day. Laundry is done. Bathroom facilities cleaned. Hair washed. Just need lunch and maybe some wine to take me to the end of this lovely day.