Lynn got me out of bed at 6:30 and I devoured a few slices of toast and read the Daily Mail. The Queen is 52 today. She's in the paper this morning holding her grandson, Peter, in a Snowdon portrait.
Got the 7:52 train to Leeds and met Jacq at the bus station on Wellington Street. She's wearing a hat and reading Erich Segal's follow up to 'Love Story'. It looks like sentimental slush to me.
Left for London at 8:30 and got to Victoria at 1pm. We had a few drinks at the Albert, a pub done out in Victorian style, and then afterwards walked down the Embankment towards Waterloo Bridge. For a while we queued at the entrance at the Commons for a look at the yelling and bawling mob, but after half an hour it began to drizzle and we made our escape.
To Trixie's at Muswell Hill for 5:30 where we had a massive meal of pork roll and avocado pear, &c. Trixie was in good shape and so pleased to see Jacq. Peter S is thinner. He went out with his friend Nick, and the three of us went to the BBC Social Club at the Alexandra Palace. Quite a drunken affair it was too, especially after Trixie won a bottle of Teacher's whisky in a raffle. I was drinking lager with Scotch chasers. Ugh. Yes, I did it again.____________.
Trixie drove us back to the flat pissed, driving at approx 2 MPH with windscreen wipers going like hell, but at least she stuck to the correct side of the road. On arrival home poor Trixie vomited in her palatial loo.
Bundled into Peter's bed.
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