I tried updating my blog twice to write about my weekend. About the cool east London scene and all the electro music, DJs from Berlin, late night junk food, the night bus, the amazing views from Sneha’s apartment overlooking Tower Hill and London Bridge – where we even got to see the Men’s Marathon and were very briefly caught by the camera from the helicopter overhead. I tried writing about watching Mo Farrah win while we were at Victoria Park and how the crowd went crazy. And how we ate more junk food (“street food”). I tried to write about how we saw the closing ceremony at Canada Square park and how some people started dancing and how I had to go to Wahacca thrice because they kept giving me the wrong burritos and I ate some chicken as a consequence. Sorry chicken. About how Snackle got her first gay club experience. And how scary and tough some streets are at night. And how Brick Lane is best avoided at late hours. Thank God for GPS, cabs, and oh yeah, night buses. I tried to write about all this but I got the Monday blues compounded by the Olympics getting over.
But on the sweet side of things – I finally found a mug for work I can feel happy drinking tea from. A purple coloured cup with a fat cat scrawled on it.