Just a quick one to say how shocked I am about the riots in London over the last few nights.

The first riots in Tottenham on Saturday night were bad enough but now they’re happening all over London.

There’s no excuse for destroying homes and shops, looting and terrorising. It’s all so mindless, and is just ruining the lives of innocent people.

The police are overwhelmed, the army needs to get involved now.

Hey all, I just wanted to wish you all a lovely Christmas and a great 2011. Here are some pics I took during a recent snowy period here in the UK this month.

I’ve just had dinner and I’m just planning to relax for the rest of the day and wait to see if my folks like their presents when they get around to opening them. It’s been a quiet one this year, with just one of my uncles coming (at 10am). My brother is supposed to be coming at about 7pm (as he’s been spending the day with his girlfriend and her folks).

Sky Movies has been showing Avatar continuously since last night, and my dad keeps on watching portions of it when he’s in the living room. He’s probably watched the entire ridiculous movie by now. Twice.

Anyway, in case you’re in a cheesy Xmas mood, click on the following link to hear Shakin’ Stevens singing that classic tune: Merry Christmas Everyone

I love the speed and convenience of email, but there’s nothing better than receiving a personal letter through the post.

Yesterday I received a letter from my Mexican-American penpal, Alberto, who lives in San Francisco. We’ve been writing to each other for about 13 years now.

When we were both 16 or 17 years old our English teachers did an international exchange and swapped countries and classes for a year. Our American teacher encouraged us to write a letter to our US counterparts which would be matched up with an appropriate person. For some weird reason I requested a female penpal. A while later I was given his reply, which said that we had so much in common that he had to write to me (I was learning Spanish and studying music at the time). Since then we’ve written to each other quite regularly, and hung out when I visited San Francisco in 2004.

We write to each other in Spanish, which is the main way that I’ve kept up my Spanish since I studied it years ago. We normally write about our careers, life goals, families, love-lives and creative pursuits. He plays guitar and listens to Latino rock music.

He always uses the same kind of envelopes, so I smiled with recognition when my mother handed it to me. Although we could easily correspond via email, for me at least there’s something about knowing that a letter has been handwritten, folded and placed in an envelope, posted and carried on an international flight before it could finally reach my letterbox.

Last night, at about 11pm, I was walking up my street towards my house when I saw a black and white cat strolling across the road. Then just a few metres away, I spotted a fox trotting away in the opposite direction. Neither creature took any notice of the other.

I remember the time when I spied a pair of foxes mating in our garden. I knocked on my window to frighten them away, but they kept on going. They only moved on when my mum opened our back door to shoo them away.

A woman in her early twenties sits opposite me on the train, reading an old edition of The Great Gatsby. She mouths the words as she reads, and her fingers hold a colourful postcard (bookmark) against the bookcover. Tendrils of her blonde hair peek out from under her dark tea cosy hat.

A trio of women wearing Sexy Santa outfits smile to each other as they eat standing up in a mini McDonalds. Their short skirts and long legs attract attention from everyone in the vicinity.

A cold and cloudless night. I look up as I walk home and see dozens of stars. I assume that the brighter ones are airplanes, but as I keep on looking, they don’t appear to move.

An elderly man strolls through Brixton, wearing short baggy trousers and smoking a pipe.

A young guy waits at a bus stop on Halloween night, a small pair of horns protruding from his forehead. They look very natural, very HellBoy.

I visit a Chinese takeaway near my workplace. As I wait for my meal I feel someone’s gaze and notice a young man looking at me. I look away nervously, but he continues to stare at me intently. Then his food arrives (Chicken Chow Mein) and he leaves the restaurant without looking at me again.

I walk toward the high street on a Saturday morning. It feels like the whole world is asleep, and I enjoy the rare feeling of solitude. Then a guy walks past me and makes a lewd comment about my body. Ten minutes later he sees me again and tries to greet me, I ignore him and walk on quickly. (Why do guys do that? Do they really think that a woman is going to be flattered by a filthy come on? This isn’t the Benny Hill show!)