Another update? It's like old times around here.

I have to say that the past couple of days with their cooler weather have suited me rather more than the heat-fest that we had earlier in the week – though I do miss the sunshine. I know that we grumble about temperatures that would make much of the world snark with humour, but you know, it’s all down to what you’re used to. There are Floridians out there that that pull on a sweater when the mercury drops below 80F, so…

Anyway.

This weekend is the annual Chap Olympiad in London Town. After many years of ‘maybe we will, maybe we won’t’ we have bitten the bullet and bought tickets. The trouble is, neither ellefurtle nor I can quite shake the feeling that we will be fish out of water and feel like complete wallies. We are going with friends, so I expect that we will have a good time, but there remains that nagging feeling that we will just end up being absolute chumps.

I think the problem is, essentially, that neither of us is enough of an extrovert, much less the sort of confident exhibitionist that will settle into and enjoy all the various events and activities without a trace of embarrassment. It’s one of the reasons I’ve never been particularly good with LARP, I don’t mind the wearing of the costume, but I feel like an absolute bloody plum if I have to do anything beyond hang around in the background.

I would normally post up a link, but as this IT gets older, fewer functions seem to work. Still waiting on the arrival of upgrades in September.

Pedestrians

Speaking of plums, as I was earlier, I find myself wondering why there are so few of them getting splattered under the traffic in the centre of London (and probably other major cities too, of course). Just this morning waiting to cross the road outside Westminster station, we witnessed people, head down and peering at maps just waltz out onto the street only to freeze in terror at the sound and sight of a London bus bearing down on them with horn blaring and driver swearing. They scuttled back on to the pavement just barely in time.

And these weren’t kids. It was a couple in their late twenties to mid thirties.

I’ve noticed too, that there is an increasing number of people who try to play chicken at the crossings in a different way. They fix you in their sights, stare and then walk at you, trailing bags and trollies and such and expect you to get out of their way.

Except I don’t and I’m bigger than most of them. It’s most satisfying to have them veer off, lose control of their luggage and then start to panic as they realise that the lights have changed while they are undertaking their low-budget recreation of a joust.