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LONDON – & You Taste Like Rain

It is Friday the 13th, and on a Friday the 13th three years ago you asked me to be your girlfriend, so ever since it is my lucky date. People don’t tend to share this appreciation though and today the plane to London is far from full. Lucky for me because my ticket was ridiculously cheap because of all these misinformed mortals. Daniel,-London-2015I break my all time record as I run through Heathrow’s security in less than 9min. Once I’m trapped on the underground heading into town I get nervous and uncontrollably excited. Just like every time I’m on my way to East London on a Friday night. That excitement hasn’t faded at all since I moved here in 2011. The contrary. Daniel stands at Holborn station hiding from the rain next to the man handing out the Evening Standard. It’s rush hour and I’m late. People hurry past me as I try to make my way to him. He is drenched despite taking cover under his hoodie and I throw myself at him, tangling my fingers in his wet curls. He tastes like salt & vinegar crisps and rain. We take the slowest bus back to his, because it gives us just about enough time to talk about everything that’s gone missing between Skype calls. It’s also just about enough time for us both to get hangry and violently impatient for undressing one another. Jimmy-and-Seb,-March-2015   At nine we’re in Dalston to have dinner with two of my favourite lads Jimmy and Sebastiaan at the Mexican restaurant Mezcal Cantina. VDK,-London-2015We get seated at the table furthest in and over the loud music we order Pisco Sours and burritos. A large group of young Dalstonites celebrate somebody’s birthday and as the waitress brings in a cake with hundreds of candles on fire the whole restaurant joins into chorus. In between a hectic conversation and stuffing ourself I look away and Seb orders tequila for the table. I know it’s to celebrate us, or the temporary feeling that nothing has changed since we first became a group of friends in 2011. Even though I guess everything has. Olivia isn’t here, we’re not as poor (or at least the boys aren’t as poor), I live with my parents and weekdays aren’t just made for nights of forgetting about everything else. For tonight though, we pretend and it feels great. Daniel,-March-2015Back outside it’s wet and dark but the street is still buzzing with people repressing their worries. I feel dancy and light and far from troublesome as we catch the bus up to Stoke Newington. It’s Danielle’s birthday and she’s celebrating at the Three Crowns where her brother works. We enter the golden hued bar and it’s busy and the air sultry. Tall skinny boys in worn leather jackets and ripped jeans queue up at the bar and in a corner three teenage girls are dancing just as sad and free as only teenagers can. Three-Crowns,-Stoke-NewingtonBy a table by the corner we find her sitting with her boyfriend, both wearing caps and sipping amber ales. Dear lovely silly Danielle. Just the sight of her makes my heart crumble. We join her with kisses and drinks. At an alarming pace secrets, discussions and stories spill onto the table. One of my friends has a new girl with the same name as his favourite liquor. I beg to see some picture and hear about their dates and what she’s like and when can I meet her. Girls,-Stoke-NewingtonWith time lots of my girls drop in looking like something from a 70s dream in their leather coats and wavy hair. The reunion is sweet and we end up in an unidentifiable pile of hugs, everybody talking at the same time. It’s lovely how Londoners build rafts of friends to keep floating in this harsh, moldy town, and I miss being one of them. Three-Crowns,-LondonLinn-Wiberg,-London-2015We take up too much space in the pub, spilling drinks, falling asleep in sofas and dancing around the tables. Somebody invites the 17 of us to an after party but we end up in a basement bar instead, slow dancing to bad remixes of hiphop tracks we know every single lyric to. Outside the rain will keep on falling all throughout the night.   Linn  

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16kommentarer
  • […] wake up in a bright room after this rainy Saturday night. The windows are cold from the dew and the difference in temperature make them fog up. I can here […]

    LONDON - Ramen Noodles & Kitschy Bars - Linn Wiberg 2015-03-25 11:22:51 http://radarmagazine.se/linnwiberg/london-ramen-noodles-kitschy-bars/
    Svara
  • […] wake up in a bright room after this rainy Saturday night. The windows are cold from the dew and the difference in temperature make them fog up. I can here […]

    LONDON - Ramen Noodles & Kitschy Bars - Linn Wiberg 2015-03-25 11:22:51 http://radarmagazine.se/linnwiberg/london-ramen-noodles-kitschy-bars/
    Svara
  • i love ur blog

    lucas 2015-03-23 09:23:47
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  • i love ur blog

    lucas 2015-03-23 09:23:47
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  • This is a lovely read, it’s great to simply read a nice story. Nice pics too, you all look like you had a fabulous time! x motte http://mottesblog.blogspot.com/

    Motte 2015-03-22 22:13:21 http://mottesblog.blogspot.com/
    Svara
  • This is a lovely read, it’s great to simply read a nice story. Nice pics too, you all look like you had a fabulous time! x motte http://mottesblog.blogspot.com/

    Motte 2015-03-22 22:13:21 http://mottesblog.blogspot.com/
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  • Så fint.

    Alexandra 2015-03-22 20:37:13 http://alexandramabon.com
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  • Så fint.

    Alexandra 2015-03-22 20:37:13 http://alexandramabon.com
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  • Fint!!

    Sofia 2015-03-22 10:37:58
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  • Fint!!

    Sofia 2015-03-22 10:37:58
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  • såååå fint.

    Flora 2015-03-22 09:05:17 http://flora.metromode.se
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  • såååå fint.

    Flora 2015-03-22 09:05:17 http://flora.metromode.se
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  • Du skriver som en gud <3

    Emilia 2015-03-22 08:51:34 http://eewmiliaa.blogg.se
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  • Du skriver som en gud <3

    Emilia 2015-03-22 08:51:34 http://eewmiliaa.blogg.se
    Svara
  • ”Daniel stands at Holborn station hiding from the rain next to the man handing out the Evening Standard. It’s rush hour and I’m late. People hurry past me as I try to make my way to him. He is drenched despite taking cover under his hoodie and I throw myself at him, tangling my fingers in his wet curls. He tastes like salt & vinegar crisps and rain.” = <3. Så fint.

    Nastasja 2015-03-22 08:03:21 http://nastasja.blogg.se
    Svara
  • ”Daniel stands at Holborn station hiding from the rain next to the man handing out the Evening Standard. It’s rush hour and I’m late. People hurry past me as I try to make my way to him. He is drenched despite taking cover under his hoodie and I throw myself at him, tangling my fingers in his wet curls. He tastes like salt & vinegar crisps and rain.” = <3. Så fint.

    Nastasja 2015-03-22 08:03:21 http://nastasja.blogg.se
    Svara
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