You know that saying about oil and water? It’s true. Put them in a covered jar and shake. The oil will separate. It will find itself again. It will not get lost in the water. It will not drown. It will rise up.
Allow me to ramble a bit.
I needed a bathing suit.
Firstly, I realize this is weird – it’s not April, it’s September. But I’ve decided to give up jogging for the winter and start swimming because Le Puy has this beautiful new public swimming pool and because I have a terrible phobia of running once the ground’s gone icy owing to that injury I wrote about in my last post. Still with me? Good.
So I needed a bathing suit. The problem of course, is that it’s late September in London and finding a
bathing suit swimming costume is not an easy endeavor by any stretch of the imagination. Off to Oxford Circus I went.
For anyone unfamiliar with London Town, let me explain: Oxford Circus is the shopoholic’s equivalent of a highway underpass. That is to say, it’s where they go to get high. There are approximately one million shops along this street, from Bangladeshi sari shops to High Street chain stores to haute couture. One can buy Swarovski crystals or sweatshop-produced luggage or perfume or a cheap dress or a very expensive one, indeed. It is also home to a very large Marks & Spencers, from whence I sought to find a suit – which I did.