Living for the weekend...

What a weekend. My throat hurts. We went to London on Friday to do gallery-hopping with our lovely tutor. Dan got some clicks, i did not. Not even in the Indian restaurant we supped at in the evening, and you know how much i like Indian boys. So what do i do? I roll around in my own filth and make more cookies. In that order. I read and finish The Lover by Marguerite Duras. now i have gookies and a sore throat, take that.