Christmas Is Strewn Across the Foyer

The foyer looks more lived in than I’ve ever seen it. Decorations are still up on the art and door frames, the little gold tree has just been switched off, the table is covered in mostly empty glasses, bottles, pastries, Uno cards, a green poker mat, and the remains of Christmas crackers and presents. The chairs have all been left askew and the sulphuric scent of blown-out candles hangs in the air. Amazingly, the kitchen’s nearly spotless once again (thanks to Agneta, who cleaned while the rest of us watched/sang along to Sweeney Todd in Ryan's room). It’s just after 6 in the morning now, and the full force of Christmas seems to have reached its climax and leveled out.

I didn’t go crazy with my camera today, but my memory card has got images from last night’s prolonged present-wrapping (done in Oscar & Chloe’s old room; I used most of my time typing back while Kim, Jason, Kaitlyn, and everyone else at home talked to me on a webcam) the award-giving ceremony for the London Swimming Club’s annual Serpentine swim (though none from the event, unfortunately), and a few snapshots from the many phases of the Christmas dinner, from last-minute prep to aftermath. It’s not a complete picture, but the results include plenty of happy faces.

I’m sleepy in a very nice way… exhausted from activity and still at a point when I can easily close my eyes and expect them to stay closed for a good while. So I think I’ll finish here for now. What a novelty to call the now post-midnight day “Boxing Day”. Sounds like a good day to rest.


I must mention, however, that it was something of a Christmas miracle that I was able to find a whole chicken today. Yesterday I went grocery shopping with Ryan, hoping to finish up on ingredients for the dinner. We went from Queensway to Shepherd’s Bush to Marble Arch and back, and not once did we find a chicken (among other things). Not that we came home empty-handed (far from it). But even though Agneta’s a vegetarian, and we weren’t 100% sure that Kate would be able to make it, the missing item meant something – to me, anyway.

[This morning I woke from about two-three hours of sleep (twice… there were two alarms, an hour apart), but like on other Christmas mornings, I woke with enough optimism to shake off the sleepy feeling. As also on other Christmas mornings, the familiar view outside looked somehow novel; the air felt a little fresher, too. Agneta was already awake, and just as I was rising from bed, was heading out for a run through the park (for the second time ever, I think). I remembered the Serpentine swim race Ryan had mentioned the night before, and when Agneta came back, I made some coffee to-go and convinced Agneta to go with me to see crazy people racing in a muddy, freezing lake. We missed the race by ten minutes or so, but, as mentioned before, I got a couple pics of the aftermath.

For the rest of the morning, I had a mission.] I prayed to some higher power that the dinner would go off without a hitch, and that something of that cheesy “Christmas spirit” movies are always going on about could be restored. For God’s sake, it’s friggin’ Christmas, and for the most part it felt like I was the only one willing organize anything. Last night, I had to literally beg Agneta to leave the empty bedroom behind and join Ryan and I in watching A Christmas Story (with homemade cocoa and caramel chocolates!). At one point, she even left the room. I don’t know if it comes from having different values or what, but sometimes… jeeze, Agneta! I really felt insulted. Anyway, the point is… today, after searching through numerous Asian stores and the local Spar (the only places open on Queensway), it felt like Santa himself had delivered a chicken to me when I found a Halal market with a butchery open today. I went home with my own made-up Christmas carols of joy bouncing around in my head, just barely able to keep a stupid grin off my face.

Agneta slept till 7, and Ryan slept during a lot of the day, too, though he also helped me cook (and in his defense, he’s been ill). I spent hours in the kitchen pulling together a feast worthy of home, watching downloaded Christmas classics all the while (e.g., the"Grinch", "The Year Without A Santa Claus", & Home Alone). The phase “If you build it, they will come” echoed though my mind once, and every time I got a text I prayed it wasn’t bad news from Kate. But sure enough, even though all public transport was shut down and a cab fare was rather pricey, she came.

In the last steps of cooking, everyone lent a hand, and I swear that when I tasted everything on my plate, I was transported back home to every Christmas I’ve ever enjoyed. I’m proud to say that everyone enjoyed the meal, and quite a few extra helpings were had afterwards. The leftovers are being looked forward to as well.

Untraditional though this Christmas was, I had an unforgettable night. I hope tomorrow is full of rest, leftovers, and card games. I was even sad for a bit, but even now, with a new morning’s sun just waiting to rise above the horizon, the warmth of an evening well spent remains.

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(NOTE: Sorry for the messy, long-winded post... )

A Farewell Dinner

Christmas is almost upon us, and I can hardly believe it. It’s been present in the lights and window displays on the high streets, and I’ve done my small part to get a few decorations up here in the flat, but being a very untraditional year, the actual date has thus far seemed always just out of reach. Two days?? Seriously?! And now it’s a matter of hours before it’s truly just three of us left in this flat.

We all had dinner together at the Thai Terrace in Kensington (Agneta’s suggestion) tonight. It was a really nice place – it felt like it was in a house, and the waitresses were all dressed traditionally. The food was delicious and plentiful – we all ordered set dinners which came in a number of courses, with the entrées arriving all at once in a colorful assortment covering the table like a Christmas dinner. It felt a little like Christmas, in general, come to that. The mood was so warm and light. There was even a big lit-up tree next to the table. We had a nice walk home, too; we took the private road behind Kensington Palace.

I’ll be sad to see Oscar & Chloe leave. I’ll visit them in Paris sometime, and they’ll be visiting London for Valentine’s Day weekend, but it won’t be the same. Agneta was saying that she probably won’t want to like whoever moves in after them… and I’ll probably have the same tendency.

Regarding our plans for Christmas… Ryan and I have discussed cooking at home. He’s offered to cook the bird (either turkey or chicken), and I’ve offered to do desserts. We’ll probably both do side dishes. The three of us will be exchanging gifts (shopping tomorrow), and maybe we’ll get some others to join us for the evening, too.

Practically Perfect

Today has been (to borrow a phrase from Mary Poppins) “practically perfect in every way”. I’ve almost entirely shaken the cold of the past week (I needed a tissue just once), and today I rose early, showered, and paid my rent. I made myself a cup of tea to go (weird note: that precise bag of PG Tips was taken from a hotel room on The Strand last spring, made its way home to California and was mailed back to London along with other teas from home), and had a very good interview – which included a series of tests with good results – at an office temp agency in The City. I then bought myself a hot brie sandwich at Eat and walked round the corner to the Tower of London to eat it by the Thames.

Being only just after 2 PM, much of the day remained and I felt inclined to wander. I wandered across the Tower Bridge, bought a cup of cinnamon-coated nuts from a cart, explored the area in search of an elusive tea & coffee museum (the website now tells me it’s closed till early 2009 anyway), took a dozen or so pictures of the Thames and converted warehouses in the fading light, and spontaneously walked into a beautiful setting of lit skylines, passing yachts, cherry mulled wine, and carolers putting on a Cinderella-esque show (it was office-themed, featuring a temp up against three snobbish sisters whose last name didn’t sound unlike “ugly”) in an outdoor amphitheatre outside City Hall.

I met Agneta at Primark after that; she needed some work clothes, and I wanted Christmas decorations (and a nice pair of Victorian-style heels). She had to head home to switch shoes before going to a trial shift at a champagne bar in West Kensington, so we parted ways for a time. Two hours were spent in search of wrapping ribbon and the game Sequence, and as it happened, I only found one of these and gained a couple other treasures along the way. The day had already gone so well… productivity seems to add an extra spring to my step… and the search felt a lot more like a journey through the best place for Christmas shopping in the world, as it just may be. From Oxford Street to New Bond, to Old Bond, then Piccadilly, Piccadilly Circus, then Regent Street and then back to Oxford Street, I became a connoisseur of Christmas lights, abusing my poor cell phone’s battery in pictures and videos – not that the quality is top-notch; maybe I’m just in the mood for boasting… I want to share some of the wonders of Christmas in London with everyone at home. It’s just about impossible to imagine that Rodeo Drive could have ever impressed me. To compare, now, is just unthinkable.

By the way, I bought something at Selfridges for the first time ever – some colored sparklers to surprise my flatmates with later, and I explored Henley’s on Regent Street for the first time, seeking Sequence but leaving with Uno.

[Pardon me if my writing starts to sound a little fragmented now… It’s almost 5 AM, and I’m starting to drift.]

I was late to meet up with everyone (Oscar, Chloe, Agneta, Giulia, Ryan, and Ryan’s friend) at the Italian restaurant in Notting Hill… and my tardiness was increased by 10 minutes as I put up some of the decorations as a little surprise. When I finally did get to the restaurant (which took a while to walk to… and thank goodness for my A-Z book), what followed was well worth the £30 bill eventually accrued by my credit card. The whole dinner was perfect. How could I put it without sounding too corny or too plain? I was very glad for the company; we really did have a lovely, intimate gathering. And the food and drinks were appropriately both lavish and like comfort food, and so authentic. I’d like to see the Olive Garden just try to cook this way. And somehow having an Italian friend be the one to introduce me the restaurant added to its value. She even worked there for a while; and for a very short time, so did Agneta.

We walked home in clusters, some leading, some meandering behind; Giulia, Oscar and Chloe formed the caboose. For a time, the three of them were singing something in Italian for a while; Agneta and Ryan were talking about some club, and Diana & I chatted about books and personal libraries. Back at the flat, I had the pleasure of watching their reactions to the decorations I set up in their absence. It turns out that Agneta spent about 3-4 hours cleaning and reorganizing the kitchen earlier, and my decorations were like the icing on the cake.

Oscar and Chloe went to bed first. Giulia stayed for one game of Uno before getting some rest for hers and Claudio’s morning flight to Italy. (I’m envious now just thinking about it.) The rest of us played for a couple hours, with Christmas music and tea (I had cinnamon and anise seeds; the others had mint). None of us had played the game for a long while, and we referred to the rules a couple times, but it felt like childhood renewed and reinterpreted among the four of us. It wasn’t like other late nights in the flat… there were no drinking games (the "Tesco vodka" has become an ongoing joke), no pervy jokes. It was all coziness and fun… the sort of innocent, wicked fun that that comes from attacking other players with “draw 4” wild cards (“the evil card”).

It was a day and a night I shan’t soon forget.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas (Despite Appearances)

Things have changed a bit since I last wrote here. I lost my job at Pho (the manager said it was because I was 5 minutes late, but I suspect it was because of a certain inconvenient friendship), Janice is back in Brazil (till Jan. 12), Oscar & Chloe will be back in Paris soon (permanently!), while Claudio & Giulia will be back in Italy for Christmas, and against all odds, it's actually "beginning to look a lot like Christmas."

Along with the general malaise that comes with feeling a bit under the weather, I've been noticing the differences between London and home a lot more than usual and it's made me feel a bit homesick. The details get to me. Things like familiar foods, TV specials, Christmas lights, and music. They reinforce the distance. I got a box mailed to me from home early this week, and it made me happier than I've been for a long while. (Not that I've been depressed or anything. It beat out a lot of good moments!) Along with a good dose of love, it contained primarily goodies from good ol' Trader Joe's: trail mixes, chocolates, vitamins, crunchy snacks, and the best lip balm in the world (the "music to your lips" one). I may still have had my feet planted firmly on British soil, but for that one moment I felt more at home than ever. By just looking at the lables, it was as though I was standing in the kitchen in Reseda, perusing the pantry for a snack. And the tastes were more heavenly than any treat at Marks & Spencer.

Before that box arrived, I'd found my one bit of home at Whole Foods. It's ridiculously expensive compared to any other grocery store (even it's US counterpart), but for the small bits of comfort it was worth it. It's the only place in London I've yet to find eggnog (though it doesn't taste much like the kind I drink at home... it's much too much like nutmeg-flavored whipping cream, and not at all thick). Bisquick doesn't seem to exist in the UK, so I got some pricey buttermilk pancake mix. Other goodies included Reed's ginger beer (I've tasted the British equivalent and came away pretty dissatisfied... it's waaay too sweet), pumpkin pie (just one lousy slice!) Dr. Bronner's Magic Soap (£4 for one bar!), and aloe vera body lotion (not nearly as nice as TJ's Midsummer Night's Cream).

Tonight, I've become a lot more optimistic about spending Christmas here. It's amazing what a little atmosphere can do. I lit a few candles, dimmed the lights, switched on the little gold Christmas tree I bought at Woolsworth's (I didn't know those still existed anywhere till coming here, but it won't be around for much longer), and played some holiday music on iTunes. I also made some chai lattes from scratch for both Agneta and I, and munched some almond bark (Trader Joe's!) and chocolate-covered Turkish Delight (Marks & Spencer). Agneta and I made a big paper star together and chatted about Christmas memories and other things. Ryan came in occasionally, and we watched some silly videos on YouTube, too. Something "clicked" and made this place feel a lot more homey; Christmas was in the air (please forgive my cheesiness). A couple weeks ago, I was hoping that either 1) by some Christmas miracle Kim would be able to visit for the holidays or 2) I could rent a cottage in the English countryside with a few other people, preferably where there's snow. The first option seemed possible for a while, but was eventually vetoed by my mom. The second left the picture when Agneta became aware of her dwindling finances and Janice left. Now, I just need to buy some garlands to hang over everything, and maybe get a little tree. Maybe we'll go see a traditional pantomime. Nothing is for certain, but at least the three of us remaining in this flat are optimistic.

Nah, needs garlic!

This probably sounds like a really silly thing to miss, but last night I dreamt I had DVR again and thought it was the most awesome thing to be able to rewind TV. I also dreamt about a whodunnit mystery in a monastery, but that's beside the point.

Also, here's a list of food-related things I wish I had in London:

• eggnog
• pumpkin pie
• sourdough bread (I always have to settle for "farmer's bread")
• clam chowder in a bread bowl
• avocado (they're here, but not quite the same; you definitely won't find it being sold off the backs of trucks!)
• buttermilk
• Trader Joe's misc.
  

Restaurants:

• PF Chang's
• Brent's Deli
• food court at The Getty
• Marie Calender's
  

I have found a few things that remind me of home. I found a number of foods that I'm used to getting at the Asian supermarkets in California - e.g., gummy fruit (no lychee, but they had my second-favorite: melon), Pocky (!!!), and the same brands of Tofu and soy paste. My "tea cabinet" has been filling up, too. The top shelf has acquired a reasonable variety since I moved in. I'd still love some "Paradise" iced tea, however. Also, I've tried to make some oven fries like my mom's, but they weren't quite there. I didn't even have garlic salt - I couldn't find it in stores anywhere, so I had to make do with garlic powder and salt (which, as Wikipedia will tell you, is not the same).

I Never Knew Before London That They Still Made Radiators and Hot Water Bottles...

I'm in an extremely cozy spot at the moment... face-first on my bed, using my teddy bear as a pillow and enjoying the new-found bliss of having a furry hot water bottle. (I didn't know they still made those till I got here!) When I woke up, it was already too late to meet my appointment… I was due for an interview for getting my National Insurance number at 9:30. I woke at 10. Anyway, among the list of things I’m meant to bring, the letter mentioned a letter from my employer… and I haven’t got that taken care of.

Speaking of which, I haven’t really said anything about my job, have I? It’s nothing special. Not what I would choose immediately, anyway. I’m employed at a Vietnamese restaurant called Pho in the Westfield London mall. It’s close, the people working there are quite nice, and it pays relatively well. That being said, if I could find something more career-appropriate, I would still quit at the drop of a hat. At least my dad’s not talking about deadlines and the possibility of coming home anymore.

Other things…

Yesterday I took a train to St. Albans once again. I helped out at Poppy’s and Dasha’s 5th birthday party. There were 42 kids on the invite list, and it was a “princesses and pirates” theme (though mostly princesses were in attendance). It was loud and crazy most of the time (and sugar levels were high), and it made me want to be 5 all over again. Gill asked me to be a sort of “paparazzi” and take lots of pictures, and I did, but I didn’t realize that there would be a celebrity in the room. In fact, I didn’t realize it until after the party. Back at the house, Gill mentioned that Nicola, one of the parents who stayed to help clean up, played one of the Doctors’ companions on Doctor Who in the 80s. (I don’t think she’s in any of my photos, btw… I’ve looked, and it’s mostly kids and the people I already knew. But I checked Wikipedia and yup, it’s her.) Anyway, it was nice to be back in Wheathampstead for the evening. It felt so cozy and normal, more akin to being actually home. I stayed while Poppy was opening her presents (including mine – I gave her The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales; it’s still one of my favorites) and enjoyed some tea and conversation. When Kevin took Abby’s friend home, he dropped me off at the train station.

…

Well, I think I ought to roll out of bed now. I’d like to find a spice shop and maybe pay a visit to that big Japanese grocery store I heard about. It’ll be noon in a little over 20 minutes, and by then I will probably be annoyed with myself and feel less inclined to go anywhere.

(Wow, is it REALLY December 1?!?)

Thanksgiving - Just Photos

Thanksgiving - Annotations

The following are some notes typed before and after Thanksgiving; they say very little about the day itself and the events that transpired. Perhaps there will be a part 2 containing more.

4:28 AM (Thursday)

I have no rational reason for being awake now, as ever it’s been when I’m conscious after 4 in the morning. I’ve been doing some internet browsing… getting inspired by some photos on Flickr, writing out ideas (outlining general concepts and ideas for photo shoots), writing emails, streaming from one Wikipedia article to the next, and generally accomplishing no one thing in particular but getting a lot of ideas nonetheless. I’ve got to be at work (yes, work!) at 10 AM, and my alarm is set for 8. I’ve got Thanksgiving plans, too. So I’ve got every reason to be asleep right now.

There’s a lovely view outside, however. Oh, it’s the same landscape I described before – the unlit park, a spire or two on the distant horizon, loads of brick buildings, chimneys, and Georgian facades. Double-deckers and red phone boxes, too. I appreciate it every time I look outside; the total London-ness is ever-present. Just this moment, though, a few more stars are visible than usual. Most of the time it’s overcast or too obscured by smog and city lights, but this time I can make out Orion’s Belt. When was the last time I did that? Wheathampstead? California? I’d like to fix the view to my memory, even with the unseemly empty lot, on the corner below (it adds some extra dimension).

The birds are already calling.

9:24 AM (Thursday)

Jeeze… How I hate to get up in the morning. In six minutes I have to leave. So much for needing a shower and a cup of coffee! And now my laptop’s ability to keep a connection with the power cord has become annoyingly elusive. Great.

Out of the blue, I feel like watching Beetlejuice right now. It would sure be lovely to call in sick and watch movies all day. I should have requested the whole holiday off.

5:14 AM (Friday)

I need to sleep. I really, really need to sleep. In sum, however: the first part of the day, to put it bluntly, sucked. The second part was lovelier than I could have imagined. There are lots of photos, too (cherry on top). My computer cord’s still annoying, though. I’m not moving it from this position on the floor. At all. Also, the sky’s back to being overcast, but there are some interesting bright wisps being blown across the sky below the ceiling.

Tired & Happy

I’ve had a really great day, full of plenty of things to write about, but at the moment I’m just really engrossed in the news of David Tennant announcing his departure from Doctor Who in 2010 (with four specials remaining) and suddenly set on seeing him play Hamlet in London next February. Lots of YouTube’ing and blog-reading going on. Also, I’ve just remembered that the trailer for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is out, and I haven’t seen it yet. And, I’ve been dealing with the annoyances of yet another re-install and patch update for World of Warcraft; I’ve been trying to play it all week!!

I’m taking a break from all that right now (while the high-def trailer’s loading) to write a bit about the rest of my day. So. Here goes…


As I may have mentioned before, I’ve been keeping some pretty ridiculous hours lately. Last night I decided to forego the chance of oversleeping. I’d arranged to volunteer in a work party at Highgate Cemetery, and I had to be there by 1 PM. Yes, that’s right… THE Highgate Cemetery. If the name alone doesn’t ring any bells, think of Dracula. Supposedly, myths of vampires have been so much a part of Highgate lore, they inspired Bram Stoker. It was also pretty high profile in the ‘70s when people were reporting strange “psychic” attacks and a Catholic priest claimed to have staked one. I’m not much for vampire myths in particular, but it is still the most marvelously beautiful and spooky cemetery I’ve ever seen. In photos, anyway. But I digress.

It took me two hours of lying in bed with a sleeping mask until I finally fell asleep. (Probably more from boredom than actual sleepiness.) And surprisingly, I was up early in the morning. Agneta actually woke me (though I think I was already half-awake at the time), and after that I finally went on a morning jog through Hyde Park. I’ve been trying to do it all week, but I just couldn’t get to sleep on time. I even once considered staying up all night and going out at daybreak, but I didn’t have the energy. I got new running pants (sorry, “trousers”), even.

It felt really, really nice. Why couldn’t the mile runs in school have been this nice? I ran all the way around the park – the long way! – by the Round Pond, the Albert Memorial, around The Serpentine, through the Italian Fountains and back. I was out there for a full hour. And by the time I came back, I was more than ready for a shower and a big bowl of oatmeal.

I had a couple hours to spare, so I watched a little Twilight Zone (“The Grave”) and some of a Jude Law movie (Norah Jones was in it, too) with Agneta, though both of us agreed it was terrible. I got a slight late start to going… Considering it’s a Sunday, the Underground was quite limited (no Circle line!!), so it took me a lot longer to get there. But, get there I did, and in no time I was picking garden gloves and clippers out of a box and had set out to de-weed and generally clean several graves near the entrance of the West Cemetery. I got there at about 1:30 and left almost exactly two hours later, feeling something akin to the morning run… well-worked and accomplished. (And well-fed. Somebody shared some home-baked brownies.) But with the extra novelty being in a famous cemetery. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to venture beyond the entrance. Our labors only covered so much, and since I left my piles of brambles and weeds for removal till the end, others sort of came by and picked it up as I progressed, and I never got to venture a little more inward to place it in the compost bin. But, from what I saw, it was already so wonderfully idyllic. The place was absolutely packed with Victorian graves, and the greenery was so thick; avenues were like tunnels through the woodlands. I aim to see the Egyptian mausoleums and the famous crypts at another time, but for now the mystique remains ever stronger now that I’ve had a taste. I’m likely to be going back next week, for the next working party.

By the time I got back to Bayswater, I was already pretty tuckered out. I got a few things at Tesco’s (they didn’t have sardines!) and went home (I had to settle on mackerel). And that’s it.

I’ll probably go to bed early again tonight. It helps to actually be tired for once.

Oxford Street Christmas Lights

On Wednesday night, I went to Oxford St. to see the Christmas lights switched on but just barely missed the official pushing-of-the-button. I still took a lot of photos of the lights and the window displays. Later that evening, I went to the Queen Boadicea pub in Clarkenwell for a BUNAC pub meet. There were some people I hadn't seen in a couple weeks, so it was nice to do some catching up.

Settling In

It’s been about a week since I moved into Porchester Gate, but it feels like I’ve known my flatmates for far longer than that already. It’s quite a big group; there are several bedrooms to fill. We’ve already gone out for dinner, dancing, and clubbing; we’ve had late-night card games and YouTube movie fests into the wee hours; we’ve gone out shopping and out for coffee. It’s like one big international family, with roots in Lithuania, Brazil, France, Italy, and Australia.

Tonight, all but Claudio, Julia and Agneta went out to the Chinawhite club, near Piccadilly Circus. It cost £20 to get in, and we had to be on the guest list, but it was quite an experience. I rarely go to clubs, but in this case, I agreed to go because 1) I was curious, and 2) I enjoy hanging out with my flatmates. It was a really posh place, but it was intimate and cosy, too. It had an overall Eastern theme, with lots of statues, incense and candles. When we arrived, we were almost the only people there (it was around 9:30; Ryan also brought some friends, so our group came to about a dozen or so), but it didn’t take too long for the place to become packed. My favorite room was chock full of cushions and had sparkling stars on the ceiling behind lengths of colored fabric. It was there I tried my first taste of absinthe, mixed in a martini. It was amazingly flavorful… It tasted like a sweet, spicy glass of liquorice. I only recommend it if you really, really like liquorice, and I do.

I’m not much for r&b, or most pop music, but among friends, I make an exception. I also don’t do a lot of dancing, but I had a lot of fun at it. I had a genuinely good time, and it makes me all the more glad that I chose the flat I did.

Being very tired, I’m sorry that I can’t be much more descriptive. It’s going on 4 AM (which is becoming kind of a normal bedtime, unfortunately). We left the club a couple hours ago, and I made 4 grilled cheese sandwiches (burnt them, though… I’m still not used to electric burners), and that’s pretty much it. The rest of the day, I stayed in mostly, but went to the Brompton Cemetery to take pictures, only to find it closed 10 minutes after I got there. I’m still anxious to edit the few photos I took, however.

Election Night

It’s now after four in the morning, and I’m in bed watching live election coverage on CNN.com. (The BBC’s own coverage is open in another tab, but it’s not quite as interesting to watch.) The curtains are drawn, and behind the big window I can see a mini-skyline of London… the local rooftops of Bayswater, with piped chimney stacks, domes, and the treetops of Hyde Park. Other than myself, only Janis is awake; unable to sleep, she’s on her own laptop in bed, too.

My absentee ballot was faxed in on Monday. I won’t reveal any of my votes here, but I will say that I was quite torn for different reasons on both candidates. CNN has just announced that Obama is the projected winner. I’ve gotten so used to all the election coverage, both in the US and here as well (it’s amazing how much of it goes on here; British people are just as informed about it as Americans are) that it’s strange to think the momentum has finally reached a climax and, very soon, a conclusion and a new beginning. I wonder what George Bush is doing right now… Is he on a sofa, watching all this, too? Are any of his things in boxes already?

Ugh. CNN’s already hyping the race side of all this… There’s singing, sobbing, Jesse Jackson, and talk about Martin Luther King… It’s all too sickly sweet. Not to diminish the significance of black history in the making, but I’m finding it all too overdone.

…And now McCain has made his concession speech, and music reminiscent of a 90s action movie is playing as he, Palin and both their spouses exit the stage, forcing smiles… So… that’s it? People are still voting in some states, but really their votes are a formality at this point. The commentary continues, and presumably Obama will be making a speech very soon. I’d like to watch that speech, and then try to sleep… I’m a little tired of watching coverage now, though.

Darn… They’ve just said that it’ll be another 25 minutes before Obama takes the stage.

I seem to be zoning out a bit… I’m watching a bit of both the supporters’ parties. They’ve just shown a few seconds of Oprah at Obama’s party and there was some woman screaming after her (brings to mind a certain SNL skit!). Maybe I’ll wait it out, if I don’t fall asleep meanwhile.

He’s approaching the stage now… Well, that wasn’t so bad a wait. Not likely to be any surprises rhetoric-wise, but I’m curious to hear it all out anyway. Lots of thanks and pledges of hope, I imagine.

…Wow, amazing speech. Really, really amazing. Sort of makes me less apologetic to be an American abroad, too.

Well, on that note, I think I’m going to quit typing and go to bed in a couple minutes.

Halloween In London

Too busy/tired/lazy to write a complete, original blog for Halloween, I've put together bits of emails and phone photos from the day. Sorry, but it'll have to do.


Oct. 31, 5:50 P.M.
The Clink hostel, basement kitchen

There are so many cool events going on tonight... I wish I could go to all of them. :)

http://www.timeout.com/london/halloween/

But, since I'm going with Katie (and her boyfriend, and some other friend of hers, and possibly other BUNAC people...), it has to be after 8, which already limits my options. It looks like we're going to the "Halloween Ghost and Murder Walks" one.

I'm in the hostel kitchen right now, and I put together a quick late lunch/early dinner with some pasta and steak, but there are some Italians sitting near me who totally put my pathetic little meal to shame. They're having pasta, too, but with some kind of a veggies and cream sauce thing, and lots of bread (it's only toast, but I guess it wouldn't be a meal without some kind of bread). Earlier one of them took my pepper grinder without asking, and I complained (I explained that they could use it, but I wished they'd ask next time), but their English was very, very limited, and as a nice gesture, they shared some of their wine -- so now I'm having a sweet, fizzy Italian wine to go with my substandard pasta dish.

Also, I stopped by the St. Pancras church today on the way back to the hostel. I've been wanting to check it out ever since I noticed the big pink banner inviting entry to its crypt gallery, and I figured what better time than on Halloween, right? God, it's truly the creepiest church I've ever seen... it's got huge gothic women statues/pillars, massive grey stones, a really unkempt garden and heavy wrought iron gates. I followed the signs to the "London crypt" onto the grounds; nobody else was there, but the gates were open. I wandered around the building, but I couldn't find a single open door; I tried pulling, but they wouldn't budge. So much for that Halloween idea. There was a list of gallery exhibitions -- I may have just missed the last day of the previous one; the next one opens on Nov. 6, and it's to showcase the work of some costume designer. Not exactly what I'd have expected in a creepy place like that, but I'll go when it opens anyway.












Nov. 1, 4:36 P.M.
Porchester Gate Flat, Bayswater

Well, I ended up going on the "ghosts and murders" walk, which was fun, but unfortunately Katie was unable to make it, and everybody else I know was at the BUNAC event. After the walk, I went to where I thought the event was, but was completely wrong... There are a number of pubs called the "Walkabout" and by then it was already too late to go back and look up all the other locations, so that was pretty much the end of my night. So, yeah, that part sucked. After that, I went to a convenience store, bought a couple candy bars (my only consolation: I've never seen those particular ones in the US), and took the bus back. I met a nice Australian guy and some American girl on the bus back, and they were really nice to chat to... the American girl came from Pasadena, of all places, but now she's a student at Cambridge (she agreed with me that London is so tame in the Halloween department... It could use some excitement like the WeHo Halloween Carnival!). It was also weird that I seemed to be an information dispenser from the moment I got that bus stop... I directed some British girls (not from London, I guess) to the Embankment station, and I told the Aussie which buses he needed to get to Angel Station in Islington. Yay, people are assuming I know stuff about this city! It keeps happening a lot, actually.

So... today I've moved into my new flat. I'm emailing you from Tatiana's laptop (I'm taking her place, actually) in my bedroom. I did lots of shopping today, mainly for bedding things; I've yet to do some grocery shopping, too. I hit up every department store on Oxford St. (OMG, Selfridge's is AMAZING!!!); what I wouldn't do for a simple Bed, Bath & Beyond or Linens 'n Things... it took me forever to get a decent feather pillow for under £25.

The Hostel Blues, Again

Yesterday I left the hotel with a full stomach and a healthy dose of optimism. Breakfast was included with the room, served buffet-style in the restaurant downstairs; it was delicious, filling and had a full variety of goodies. I read a complimentary copy of the Sunday edition of The Daily Telegraph with my meal, and as I left, I didn’t feel a great deal of disappointment for having to stay at the hostel again, mainly because I knew things would be much better in a week. For most of the remainder of the day, I was at the British Library, and in the evening I saw Burn After Reading with Nicole at a theater in Islington (INSANELY good, by the way; it was the kind of movie that left my mouth hanging open, aghast, for most of the time, and laughing during the rest of it).

Right now, however, I wish I were at the hotel. It’s almost 4 PM and the most I’ve accomplished is buy some groceries at Tesco* and eat a grilled cheese sandwich. I don’t know whether it’s because I haven’t showered, or because I might be on the verge of catching a flu or something, but I feel really down right now. Things are nicer now, since last night I didn’t have to sleep under that French jerk raining spit from the top bunk; my new roommates are more sociable, and even the nearest bathroom is a bit larger than the other one (which certainly makes dressing better). But, it’s still a hostel. The air smells vaguely of cigarettes and body odor, most of the inhabitants speak a foreign language, I’m constantly trying to make sure my things don’t get stolen, I’m afraid to use the shower (it’s filthy and not in any way private – it’s completely co-ed), and the internet’s not free to use (it costs £2 per hour). I’m unwashed, uncomfortable, and feeling generally pessimistic about finding a job (truthfully, I haven’t even looked since last week; moving around has taken its toll time-wise, and the search has gotten so monotonous… I really can’t wait to move into my new flat, when the comforts return and I’ve finally got my own address).

I can barely imagine doing anything tonight. I texted both Nicole & Katie last night about the movie, and Katie wasn’t able to come but offered to go somewhere tonight. I have no idea where or what I’ll be doing… maybe another movie? None of the other movies were too appealing. Maybe I’ll see Wall-E again? I’m not in the mood to go to a pub, and it’s really the only thing I can think of at this point. Oh, how nice would it be if the hostel had a spa… Or even just a private bathtub. I feel so grubby right now.

You know what? Forget it. I’m paying the 15/week unlimited fee and getting some internet usage…

*I completely forgot about the hostel’s “no outside alcohol” policy… I bought some California (yay!) red wine to make some Italian food with; there’s a £50 penalty fee if it’s found. Guess it’s staying at the bottom of the bag until I can move it to my new flat. Oops.

From Panic to Indulgence

I’m quite cozy right now… Earlier today, I was a little panicked. I don’t like the feeling of not having a plan; it definitely puts me on edge. But, a couple things have been settled that put me in such a good mood that I was humming random melodies for some time, feeling rather swell.

For one, I called back about a flat I saw a couple weeks ago, located just across the street from Hyde Park/Kensington Gardens. The only reason that held me back from a decision last time was the concern of sharing a bedroom with two other girls. It’s a really big bedroom, actually, but I wanted to do the research and see if I couldn’t find myself something comparable but with more privacy. Well, even with the change in strategy (trying to get a shared flat with Katie), that didn’t happen. And over time, I came to regret my hesitation over this one. (When I walked the length of Hyde Park on my birthday, I felt it the most; I was already kicking myself over it.) I thought it’d be long gone by now, but by luck or destiny, it was still available today! So… I went to see Tatiana this afternoon, and now that I’ve given her the deposit, I’m set to move in next week, Monday!

Meanwhile, I’ll be living in the hostel for another week, only this time with the knowledge that I’ve got a beautiful flat waiting for me. I’m going to be moving some of my stuff over there already sometime soon.

The second thing that was nice to take care of was a bit expensive, but necessary, and kind of a treat, too. The hostel I was staying at was booked solid for tonight, as were all the other hostels. The only really cheap accommodations available on such short notice were located in Greater London (e.g., Heathrow) and neighboring towns (e.g., Luton). So rather than go far away, I opted to spend a bit more; and I could have spent a LOT more, but I got lucky. So, right now, I’m sitting atop a comfy bed in the Waverly House Hotel in Bloomsbury. I’ve just had a lovely bubble bath with hot cocoa and “Viennese whirls” (vanilla biscuits). I even watched some “Strictly Come Dancing” and Stephen Fry’s American travel show earlier. It’s very clean, well proportioned (I really like the high ceiling), with all the necessary conveniences, and it even comes with breakfast, served till noon. The building itself is quite old, but well kept (it does wonders for my imagination).

It’s easy to feel a bit smug right now… So cozy in my pajamas in this hotel, with my own privacy, knowing that some of my friends are in hostels at this moment; and for those that aren’t, knowing that the flat I’m going to be living in is much swankier than theirs (I’ve even got a porter and a cleaning lady!). Ah, sooo cozy…

By the way, in between watching TV and having a bath, I walked towards the West End to check out Chinatown. It’s nowhere near as big as the Chinatowns I’ve seen before (Los Angeles & San Francisco) – it’s only a few blocks across, actually – but it had plenty of Chinese restaurants. I had dinner in a sort of mixed Asian restaurant; it had Chinese, Japanese and Thai food on its menu. I wanted something filling, so I opted for pork ramen and a green tea. I read some of Steven Pinker’s The Seven Words You Can’t Say On Television meanwhile, and I can’t say the part I was at was particularly appropriate for dinner-reading. Perhaps I would have preferred to read some manga with my ramen.

(Nothing like a little CSPAN to encourage sleep… I downloaded an episode of “This Week In America” on the BBC iPlayer. By the way, I’ve appropriated all the extra pillows in the closet… There’s a down pillow, too!)

Life in The Clink (a first-time hostel experience)

When all is said and done, at least I had a nice night out. The part before that was uneventful, and the part following was, to put it lightly, annoying.

At the beginning of the day, I packed up my things in the guest room and Gill drove me to the Harpenden station and saw me off. I pre-paid at “The Clink” hostel, lunched and browsed the internet for a few hours at the British Library, and went back to check-in. They gave me a sheet (but no towel), told me about the free breakfast, and instructed me to check out by 10 the following morning. I’d made some plans with Katie to meet her and several other people at a pub in Shoreditch, but I still had a couple hours before that, so I took the time to explore St. Paul’s and the surrounding area (I’m sad to report that the pigeon lady of Mary Poppins is no more).

I won’t bore you with dialogues, but I had a great time at the pub with everyone. Katie, Matthew (Katie’s boyfriend), Nicole, Andrew, Keith, Keith’s girlfriend (I can’t remember her name), and Jackie were there. I had a pint of apple cider (not the Martinelli’s kind), meanwhile thinking it would be a really good idea to have some dinner, so it was little surprise that I was all gung ho about Jackie’s idea to go to a “Tennessee-style” chicken place up the street. Bad idea. I ordered 3 pieces of chicken, coleslaw, and an apple pie, which under normal circumstances (i.e., KFC or Popeye’s) would make me feel a bit guilty perhaps, but not so bad overall. The chicken was very greasy and the skin was baggy; the coleslaw had too much mayo & vinegar; and the apple pie was dry and tended to stick to the insides of the box, making it difficult and messy to eat. On the positive side, I got to see Andrew’s place; Nicole, Jackie and I accompanied him to his flat to eat. As far as inexpensive London flats go, it wasn’t bad; it was clean, and the location was convenient.

Back at the hostel, I gulped down a huge glass of ice water at the bar to make the greasy chicken feeling go away. When Nicole and I went to our separate rooms, it wasn’t long before the other 7 people living in my room showed up, and I suddenly had a much greater appreciation for my previous situation. Much greater. I don’t know how I can emphasize it enough. They all crashed into the room at about 2 AM, laughing loudly and speaking French; only one of them attempted a half-hearted excusez moi. They must have all thought I had a stick up my arse because they thought it terribly funny to talk about me (I’m not fluent in French, but I knew enough in the circumstances); the one bunked over me jostled the bed to excess and even tried to drop a huge wad of spit on my head when I was using the reading light at the end of the bed (the words tête and “spit” caused a lot of laughter in their conversation just then), the dried, foamy remains of which were still there in the morning. (I wonder, what’s the French word for “assholes”?)

The breakfast this morning wasn’t impressive… There was nothing but toast and cereal; to drink, there was tea, cocoa, and instant coffee. £18 per night well spent, right? Well under the present circumstances, even that would be just fine. I was only able to book for the one night, and now I can’t find a single hostel with a free bed for tonight. I’ve been frantically searching the internet for options, but the best I could find so far is located far away, and more expensive. Or, MUCH more expensive, and fairly central. It’s easy to get a little panicky at this point.

Birthday in London

Today was a different sort of birthday. On this day, I turned 24 (ancient!), and it was the first time I’ve ever had my b-day away from my friends and family. Normally, today I would be receiving tons of phone calls and going out in the evening for dinner with my family; furthermore, I would be planning my party for the following weekend. Halloween would be in full swing just about everywhere (it’s practically non-existent in the UK), and I would plan my party accordingly – on Saturday Megan might have been over already from the night before, and we would be putting the decorations up. It could have been themed (last year was ghostly pirates; two years ago, it was Nightmare Before Christmas; this year might have been the 20s, with some kind of Halloween twist), or more general, with a sort of black streamers and cobwebs sort of look. The cake would already be in the fridge (either chocolate or glazed fruit & custard), and all the snacks would have been ready in the kitchen, with fruit and cheese Danishes for the morning following. The details of the party itself would vary, but as per tradition, at some point we’d be having cookie dough and watching movies into the wee hours.

Sadly, there shall be no cookie dough this year. Even if I wanted to (how sad would eating cookie dough alone be?), it would be “biscuit” dough… and that certainly doesn’t sound as appetizing. I don’t know what I’ll be doing this weekend, anyway.

But enough of being hypothetical and sad… Let me tell you about today.

It took some doing to get myself out of bed and into the world this morning. I had one of those “where am I?” sort of moments that follows deep sleep and a long, vivid dream (I forgot it instantly). Abby was the first to wish me a happy birthday when she brought me tea at 8 this morning (usually she or Gill does, every morning). I lay in bed for about an hour more, letting the chimes of bird calls, the “Unbirthday” song, and “London Calling” pass me by as each of my mobile phone alarms went off. At about 8:40, I’d realized I’d have to wait for the 12:17 bus if I missed the 10:17, so I quickly took a shower, dressed, and left the worries of hair and makeup for later. Gill left me a quick breakfast of cereal and a croissant on the counter, and with it a white envelope with my name on it. I ate quickly and jogged out the door, opening the envelope on the bus a little later – it was a very lovely birthday card with poppies on the cover, signed from everyone in the family. (Aww!!)

Once on the train, I actually had no idea where in London I wanted to go. For the past three weeks, I’ve always at least had an idea where I’m off to; there’s always some errand to accomplish. Anything else has been incidental. Today, however, I therefore decided to get off at St. Pancras (instead of Farringdon, from which I go to BUNAC usually) and from there head to Hyde Park. I had a few hours to spend; I wouldn’t be meeting Nicole and Katie till 3.

It was odd setting off on my own, still thinking of my birthday and how different this one would be. It didn’t feel particularly birthday-ish, and it was easy to feel a little sorry for myself (I wanted to call Kim & Megan so badly!). When I entered Hyde Park, even though I consulted the map at its entrance, I had barely the faintest idea of how huge it all was. I just picked a trail and went with it.

I’ll spare you the details of everything in Hyde Park & Kensington Gardens, but I will say that what I encountered reminded me of why I chose London. It’s easy to fall under the spell of familiarity, having been here for a little while, but there are certain things that are so strikingly awesome that I’m inclined to either pinch myself to be sure I’m awake or just stand transfixed, taking it all in and willing the scene to stay with me forever. There is nothing like seeing an amazing place for the first time, and today will stay with me for a long time. Once I got past The Serpentine and entered Kensington Gardens, I was convinced this was London’s birthday gift to me. It was like jumping into one of Burt’s chalk murals in Mary Poppins, only infinitely more expansive. It was one massive painting, full of Italian fountains, statues, memorials, and gorgeous landscapes; the old-world ideal of Man’s taming nature into a Victorian Eden. To see one highlight after another was a surprise, and I’ve still got plenty to discover yet. (By the way, I must say of the Albert Memorial: OH, MY. I knew Queen Victoria was in deep mourning for some time, but I didn’t quite expect to encounter such a huge and expensive tribute!)

(*YAWN!* Wow, is it already 2:15 AM?!)

To describe the rest of my day would be mostly a retelling of a series of conversations, which of course I’ll avoid here; I can, however, describe the venues…

I met Nicole & Katie at the Kensington High St. tube station, and from there led them to the Orangery. Neither of them had ever had an English afternoon tea, and from my previous experience there with my mom & Kathy last spring, it was the perfect place for it. Curiously, though, neither of them had tea; both had chardonnay and desserts (shortbread & scones/clotted cream, to be precise). I had one of the full tea settings – champagne, tea, scones, salmon sandwiches, and chocolate cake with heavy cream on the side. We probably spent like an hour and a half there, just chatting and enjoying the atmosphere.

That was as much as I’d planned, so after that I pretty much followed their lead… Katie had already planned to go to a lecture on the politics of climate change at the London Economic College (I think that’s its name) in Holburn, and Nicole and I went along with her. Andrew met us there.

The lecture was by Professor Lord (!) something-rather-Giddens, and he was enjoyable to listen to, even though the subject matter caused my attention to drift occasionally. Apparently he’d advised Tony Blair & Bill Clinton on the topic in the past, so that added an extra dimension to the experience. And apparently that particular college is famous among economic students… Not being one, I hadn’t a clue, but Nicole & Andrew assured me that it was kind of amazing just to have experienced a lecture there. Ah.

After the lecture, we sort of arbitrarily chose a direction and walked until we spotted an interesting-looking pub. On this occasion, it was The George on Aldwych. According to a golden plaque, it was built in 17-something and a famous con man that liked impersonating vicars rented a room upstairs in the 1800s. We each got a pint, and from there talked until almost 11, when Katie started to worry about having to be up at 5 the next morning. Even after that, when all but Katie were at Kings Cross, it took a while before we finally split for the evening; the parting of the ways seemed to cause more conversations than actual parting.

With 20 minutes left of my birthday, I finally got on a train to St. Albans. From there, I took a taxi. Back at the house, it took me about 40 minutes to get into the house… My back door key wasn’t working, and it took a long time before Gill heard the doorbell and let me in. (I was getting worried I might have to stay up all night, outside! My taxi was gone and there was no other way back!) Tired and relieved to be inside, I was pleasantly surprised to find a silver present with a card on my bed! All the frustration and anxiety of ringing the doorbell for almost an hour melted away. I unwrapped it; it was a book – The Most Amazing Places to Visit In Britain – and there was a note inside, dated and signed from the whole family. I’m still gushing over it, even though I feel like a complete zombie right now. (How I’ll ever manage to wake up tomorrow morning will be something of a superhuman feat!)

Well, hopefully tomorrow will be very productive. I have to leave this house before the weekend, as Gill’s 80 year-old father will be needing the guest room, and it’d be very nice to have my own place, of course. Otherwise, I’ll be staying at a hostel, which can’t be all that pleasant; also, I’d have to carry a lot more with me all the time – Nicole has already had her laptop stolen from her this week. Alternatively, I hope Katie’s hosts will allow me to stay with them. She’s told me they have a spare bed; she’ll be asking them tomorrow.

Photo-Walk in Wheathampstead

Just this once (I hope), I'm making an exception and simply reposting content from my Buzznet page. Mainly because 1) I'm sleepy, and 2) there's not much else to say on the topic.

HOWEVER, just because I think you're so special (and you really must be, if you've made it here), I'm including other images from my photo-walk today, NOT included on Buzznet (yet).

"Today I went for a walk along many of the footpaths that surround Wheathampstead, and for the first time since arriving in the UK, I brought my camera with me.

It must be the best proof that I've been really busy... Normally you couldn't pry the thing away from me.

The sky was wonderfully dramatic all afternoon, going from dark to light continually and dropping spotlights on trees and houses seemingly when I wanted it to. I saw dozens and dozens of dogs on leashes, gorgeous autumn foliage, and that trademark English lush green-ness that comes from endless raining. I enjoyed listening to my iPod for most of the time, and even did a little journaling in the middle of a field at sunset."

Other Images...

My Comments on a Commentary Show... And Other Stuff

I’ve been watching “Most Annoying TV… We Hate To Love” for almost an hour now. Very educational, actually. It’s quite a lot like the VH1 list shows I’ve watched a million times, except this time I have no idea who the commentators are and more than half of the shows listed I’ve never seen before. Which is a good thing… It’s an education in British pop culture. Makes me wonder at their sense of censorship, though, when the word “fuck” gets repeated again and again, but out of nowhere some other word gets bleeped – at least by American standards, the “F Bomb” is the worst possible thing you could say on television. Apparently it’s not “twat” that got censored… I just saw that word said a moment ago. Not that I approve of censorship or anything; I’m just really curious about where they draw the line!

…11: 50 P.M. The show just ended (what an odd time for anything to end…). Number 1 “most annoying…” was “Hollyoaks”. I was curious about that show, incidentally. I’ve heard of it before, and I’ve seen it listed in the regular programming on the TV’s guide feature, but I’ve never been interested enough to watch any of it. This is probably better, though, because now I’ve got a taste of how it’s generally received here. By the way, there was absolutely no advertising during the program.

Shanghai Knights just came on. Kim & my mom were watching it on the night before I left. As novel as it would be to watch all the parts set in London while here, I’m going to get to bed very soon.

Twenty minutes later… Well, maybe until they arrive in England.

…12:12 A.M. Hooray, they’re in England!… Boo, it’s the villain!… OMG, it’s Victorian Charing Cross!… Yay, another fight scene!… LOL, a gag about bad teeth!… Umbrella-fighting! God, Jackie Chan’s awesome… Ha, Owen Wilson’s being an Old West-style “ugly American” with the palace guard…. A Beatles reference (“Vera, Chuck and Dave”)…

12:40 A.M. Perhaps it’s time for some pyjamas… Maybe after the next fight scene…

12:55 A.M. Okay, so it’s finally off now.

By the way, regarding the rest of the day, I’ve nothing new to report. I called almost a couple dozen places to enquire about flats, but didn’t make much headway. I was hoping to arrange some viewings this weekend, but it doesn’t look like any will be done quite so soon. After the internet connection became annoyingly slow, there wasn’t much else I could do, so I spent a lot of time watching cartoons and playing games with Poppy in the afternoon and early evening. I feel pretty good about the influence I’ve had… I introduced her to “Tiny Toon Adventures” and The Nightmare Before Christmas.* I think I’ve got her hooked to both! Her childhood is therefore significantly more enriched now, thanks to me. It doesn’t even stop there – I got her a birthday present already (it’s next month): The Stinky Cheese Man and other Fairly Stupid Tales. I must admit, I’m some kind of brilliant influence. Ha.

*On a really sour note… my best friend and my mother (!) saw DANNY !@$%#% ELFMAN at the Nightmare Before Christmas showing at the El Capitan last night!! I was going to go, if I hadn’t made plans to be here, as I have ALWAYS done, for the last several years. And OF COURSE, this ONE time, the one person who I would be most excited to see there (way more than Tim Burton, really) shows up and talks at length! AND is followed up by a live performance by Evanescence doing “Sally’s Song”!!!! I will NEVER get over that!!!! GAAAAH!!! (And now that I’ve just reminded myself of that annoying fact, I will go to bed frustrated. Lovely.)

Just Thinking of Disneyland...

I’ve been listening to nothing but Disneyland music today… Listening to Main Street marching band music in Charing Cross Station, the submarine ride soundtrack in the British Library, Main Street Electrical Parade on Farringdon Road in Islington, the Country Bears show on the train to Harpenden… ironically enough, the Haunted Mansion soundtrack came on when I was walking by the St. Pancras church on Euston St. and I spotted a HUGE banner advertising that the crypts are open to the public (and from what I saw, it was a very creepy church indeed… large, grey and with enormous gothic-looking women sort of holding up the building as columns; I’m actually quite anxious to check it out, now!).

It was sort of like living in a twin reality; having been to Disneyland so many times, merely hearing the sounds can make me feel like I’m almost there. Though the weather was cold and grey, I was transported into the warm, morning sunshine of Main Street Disneyland with nothing on my mind but how many times I would be going on Space Mountain* that day and what ride I’d be going on once I’d collected my first fast pass… (Probably Pirates of the Caribbean.) And yet it’s equally strange to take in all the iconic features of London and realize I’m really there. I had a strange feeling today, when walking through Soho, that it was much too much like a Universal Studios back lot set that never ends. (I suppose that means they’re doing their jobs well at Universal.) Possibly because the multitudes of tourists, or because of the sheer force of character the place possesses… Maybe both. It was sort of funny (to me, at least) to know that I could keep walking on for a very, very long time and still not run into the next themed area. I’d have to go for a swim in the Channel before it starts to look like a French back lot.

*Try listening to the Space Mountain soundtrack while going down one of the longer escalators in the tube stations… it’s sort of farcical when you replace the beginning incline of the ride, with all the flashy lights and anticipation, with a long (and sometimes shiny – but the only flashy lights you’ll get come from the dozens of video advertisements along the escalator at Charing Cross) corridor of people waiting to get on an underground train. But you do get the effect of riding inside a very large, fast worm once you’ve arrived, and that can be exciting, too. You just couldn’t tell based on the miasma cast over every tube traveler’s face.

[Sorry for not having much to say today… I went to a job interview at Foyle’s bookshop today, and I met with Katie to discuss sharing a flat. That’s about it.]

First BUNAC Pub Meet

It’s been a long time waiting to get to this exact spot – on a bed, in my pyjamas, having just finished a cup of tea and a couple chocolate chip shortbread biscuits. Most of the day was pretty monotonous – I went to BUNAC for little more than 40 minutes, and then went to the British Library for about four or five hours to use its wireless connection, during which I had a berry tea with lemon cake (which was delicious, by the way – very moist and filled with a layer of lemon crème). Many, many emails were sent. I’d left my headphones at home (oops), so the time passed very boringly. I had hoped to make time to visit a flat in Bow, but it got late quicker than I’d realized, so it’s been rescheduled for tomorrow.

By the time I left the library, it was after 6:30. I knew that Gill was busy, so even if I’d left then, she wouldn’t have been able to meet me at the station. Kevin wouldn’t have been able to meet with me, either, since he was to be working later than usual. Obviously, it was too late for the buses, too, so whether I left then or not I’d have still needed to get a taxi home. Tonight there was a monthly BUNAC pub-meet at the Cantaloupe pub in Shoreditch. Normally, I’d just skip out on social events (fear of awkward moments, or something like that), but I gave Nicole a call, and she was planning on going, so I’d at least know one person there.

I hopped on the Northern Line, which took me to Old Street, and from there I figured out the directions to Charlotte St. in my A-Z book. I was a little bit early… So I walked a block or two up the street and back. Not much time was killed. I went inside, had a look around, and didn’t spot anyone familiar. I stood around the bar, trying to occupy myself with my cell phone, sending texts and reading old ones. At that moment, I would have preferred a nice quiet café with a cup of tea and a peaceful corner to read in, and I considered what a wallflower I must seem. Maybe it was just paranoia, but I felt some eyes were on me. (Pathetic!) I went downstairs – a lot of them, actually – to the bathroom. I tried to kill some more time, but it just wouldn’t roll over and die. I found myself upstairs and feeling awkward again… I gave Nicole a call. Fortunately, she was just out of the tube and on her way. (There is a god!) I bought myself a pint of Guinness and got a booth in the restaurant area.

The rest of the evening went very sociably; everything seemed to fall into place. I can thank Nicole for that – she got me started in talking to a couple people, which led me to speak to more people, etc. etc., until a sort of circle-of-friends was created. I talked to some people more often than others – notably Katie (from Texas; moved to Portland, OR) the two Andrews (both Canadians), Stephan (a German photographer), Chris (another Canadian!), and Andrea (from Chicago – a fellow journalism grad). Katie’s living with her boyfriend’s family, but seems quite keen to move out – she and I may even look into sharing a flat. One of the Andrews (the one not from Vancouver), Katie and I made an agreement to go to a concert together. Oh, and Katie wants to go for tea at the Orangery this week, and Nicole wants to go, too. All sorts of plans have been made. The time passed so well. We discussed travelling (Vancouver Andrew is the most well-traveled of the group – he’s spent months all over Europe; Katie spent three months in Italy last year), US elections (I had my voter information with me – it made a marvellous conversation piece), Briticisms (e.g., How does one answer to “cheers”? It’s not exactly “thank you”, so “you’re welcome” isn’t exactly correct… The consensus seemed to be that one must mumble awkwardly in response.), Canada, hostel life (Nicole’s at war with some noisy Croatians in her room), and so on. As slowly as the minutes seemed to drag at the beginning, the time had passed so smoothly and enjoyably afterward. It got late – it was after 11 PM by the time we’d noticed most of the room had cleared and we were on our way. A number of us took the tube to King’s Cross together; we didn’t split till I headed for St. Pancras to catch the 1st Capital Connect to St. Albans.

In a way, tonight reminded me of an evening in Cambridge a few years ago. The one night I didn’t meet up with Laura, I went with some fellow Gonville & Caius students to The Anchor, on Silver Street by the Cam. I don’t even remember how it was any of us got talking… only that during dinner previously, I was talking to Takeshi and someone else (I can’t forget that conversation – I retold Laura most of it afterwards; he was so anxious to ask me questions about Los Angeles and all the glitzy stuff of Hollywood; his friend – also Japanese – had to remind him that Universal Studios existed in Japan, too), and later someone mentioned going to the pub… I hadn’t arranged to meet Laura anywhere that time, so I just went along. We had cranberry spritzers on the lawn outside the pub (we took pictures of each other then, but I have no idea what became of them), and went inside when it got dark. Most of the time we chatted about cross-culture differences… there were a number of backgrounds sitting around that table in the corner; among these I remember Scottish, German, and possibly French. It was the first time I’d ever had a truly international conversation, with such variety. It’s one thing to come from a sort of “melting pot” city like Los Angeles, but it’s another entirely to be in a far-off country, making conversation about other countries. I don’t very well remember all the topics that passed over that table (I do remember once disagreeing with a German girl that some German words are easy to figure out in English – well if “garten” doesn’t sound a lot like “garden”, what on Earth else could it be??), but I remember the atmosphere to be so warm, easygoing, and full of laughter. Not much unlike tonight.

Revisiting Tourist London

(Photos: The first image was taken on my phone just before writing; the second was taken shortly after.)

It’s strange. (Though maybe I use that word too much – “strange” – especially as a word interchangeable with “weird” and “surreal”. In any case, it’s nothing ordinary as a matter of chance for my life up till now.) To explain: The reflection on this glossy screen of a laptop is not that of a bedroom or an office. The view behind me is of the London Eye, Parliament, Big Ben, the Thames, Scotland Yard, and the quintessential postcard sunset of London melting over the jagged peaks of some roof or another. There are street performers on the sidewalk behind the bench that I’m now seated on; directly behind me, there’s a “headless” man in a black suit with a skeletal umbrella, and more to my right there’s a street musician playing an electronic keyboard. (I’m not sure what she’s playing… I’m listening to my iPod.) Tourists are lining up to take their pictures. I’m right smack in the middle of Tourist London. The last time I was here I was with my parents and Claude & Kathy, taking pictures – at this same time of day, come to think. I’d captured a picture of a sunset just like this one, which later became one of the most-viewed of my London/Germany gallery on Buzznet. I sat on a bench then, too, but it was facing the other way. I’m facing the lawn at the moment.

By the way, I can’t believe I’m getting a wireless connection here… There are precisely 16 connections available, most of which, of course, are secured. But I managed to connect to one called “something wireless” with a very good connection (3/5 bars).

Truthfully, I’m killing time here. I’m not bothering to spend the extra £3 to make an extension on my rail ticket – since I bought it after the rush, I got it for cheaper, which puts conditions on the times I use it unless I spend the difference. I’ve got about 40 minutes till I need to be on the train.

[Note: I’ve just now tried to use the connection, and drat it all, it’s a pay-for connection. I’m trying a different one now. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t really matter. It’d be kinda nifty, though.]

But, I digress… (Sorry.)

What I suppose strikes me the most strange being here, typing on this bench, is the realization that I’m not really here as a tourist. Of course, I’ve only been here for little more than a week, but I’ve gotten a taste for the annoying, desperate feelings that go with looking for a job and a place to live in London. Today was no real gleam of hope. True, I’m not sitting on a bridge in tatters with an empty cup in my hands (I saw a few of those on the way here) – I’ve got funds, a place to stay, friends, and an exit plan, if necessary. (My apologies to anyone who’s ever felt that way, but I’m not exactly Victoria Beckham, either. I’ve got a right to be frustrated, right?)

I’ve started to look at some of the more smartly-dressed people on the Tube and at all the nice Georgian brownstones and felt a twinge of envy and resentment. How on earth did they get a job? How do I get a nice flat like that? Surely not on Gumtree! What am I missing??

Today, my day went as thus: Barely made the 10:17 bus from Wheathampstead, took the train to Farringdon, perused the listings at BUNAC for an hour or two (saw Nicole there for a bit), made some phone calls/texts, and then had some lunch at the British Library whilst utilizing their free wireless internet for as long as I could (at one point it just disappeared!) before taking the long Circle tube route to Embankment and realizing that it was too late to go to Carphone Warehouse and the bank as I’d planned. Then, I ended up here, mainly for lack of any other ideas.

How many of the people here are here to sightsee? I guess a show of cameras could answer that question easily. There are just a few couples scattered across the lawn, either holding onto each other or just chatting… I can’t tell much more from this angle, sitting like this with my back facing the Eye and everything else. I must look too comfortable to fit in, sitting like this with my nose in a laptop. When I was walking across the bridge from the Embankment station I pictured in my mind the scene of Bridget Jones walking across that very bridge, lost in her thoughts, as the picturesque views of London were lost to her. (God, now I really wish I’d found that DVD before leaving California… I searched EVERYWHERE!!!)

Now I’ve gotten to rambling, so it must be time for me to finish and leave. I’ll take in the views a bit and head back to Embankment so I can take the tube to Blackfriar, and then back to Wheathampstead. The remaining evening will probably result in a mix of comfort (mainly because of the food – hot dinner, tea, and biscuits… m’mm) and self-inflicted guilt-tripping, resulting in a mad flurry of Google-searching and emailing.

[Closing note: No joy on the wireless connection. But I didn’t try all that hard.]