tally, ho.

I noticed that Natanya's doing a count of croissants she's been eating, Andrea's doing a count of how many stupid things she's done here, Little Dan is counting how many legit 1st century aquaducts there are in Spain, and Geoff is probably counting how many hours of TV he's watched. I could start a tally of how many police sirens go by my window at night, but I couldn't. Because there are so damn many. That's why my curtains are shut at night and my window is always locked. That's why there's 24hour CCTV and an iron gate outside my ground floor window. Why? Because New Cross is hella sketchy and I don't want to get raped or worse, have my laptop stolen.

But I like the way the the six or so 'african hairstylists' on this three block stretch of road are always full on Friday afternoons.

Pretty:I've been posting my pictures everywhere, man. I must be really self-centered or something. Or in LOVE. With a city.

sideline: mobiles.

On the flip side, Londoners seem to adore their mobile phones. For years now, every American has had one clutched in their grubby little palm, but the trend has just recently skyrocketed in England. Adding to the attractiveness is text messaging, which is big in the US for certain people, but is big here to everyone. Because texting is considerably cheaper than calling, people are going at it all the time. Phones lie sprawled out on the table at a social gathering and little beeps and vibrations are heard throughout the talking. People here can text message faster than they can type WPM on a keyboard. And guess what else? Adults can do it. They know not only how to use mobile phones (teachers here give us their mobile phone numbers), they tell us that they can text us, or that we can send them a text. The fact that everybody is huddled over their phones here, even on the tube where there is no reception, is not something I feel nauseous over like I do in the states, but something of a little wonder, something sort of quaint and amusing about it. While Americans rely on their phones and just assume they need them, phones here are still sort of a treasure. They hold them preciously - it's just a little different.

Still, doesn't excuse the girl sitting next to me in the movie last night who was texting throughout. That little blue screen, toots, is about as annoying as people holding up video cameras in Disneyland attractions or people holding digital cameras high above their heads at concerts - just really sickingly distracting.

one day without you.

I am in London. I am living out a childhood fantasy - ever since I first visited with my mom when I was 7. I fell in love with it then - admittedly because of the 5 musicals I saw - and have dreamt of living in it ever since. It has not let me down. It seems to have let many others down, but it has not let me down because it's all that I expected and more. And while some of my preconceptions have been confirmed, I'm also learning so much more. Cheers.

Today and yesterday I wandered around the Soho area. I read a quote, I think it's in one of my London books, that once you get sucked into Soho you'll never leave. I think I'm in the process of being sucked. It's the most lively, inspirational little quarter I've ever seen and roaming the streets fills me quite full.

I often forget about the fact I have classes here. I just wish to immerse myself in art! In the art of fine art, in the art of watching people, in the art of wandering streets and finding gems, in the art of clothing I can't afford, in the art of too expensive cups of hot cocoa and pan au chocolats. I immerse myself fully and I love it.

oh sunny days.

Everything is beautiful on a sunny day in London.
- New Cross station.

this is not a photo op:

I just remembered. This picture, it's a classic picture, taken from the best vantage point on the South Bank for the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. Nothing special. It's a pretty time of day I caught it at, yes, but a postcard shot, really. So somebody stenciled on the post right next to where I took this picture this phrase: THIS IS NOT A PHOTO OP.

Okay. They got what they wanted. My attention. Your attention. And thought. But is it not a photo op? What does this landscape mean to whoever stenciled this? Are they trying to say that these National Monuments are something more to them, this punk kid who decided to stencil something 'meaningful' on the Thames walk? Big Ben is an icon - and by becoming a graphic icon it's become something of a photo op, don't you think? Perhaps they are trying to tell us to look deeper, to look deeper within London because there are more things to London than this classic landscape. But this, this is still beautiful. The architecture of Parliament is like nothing I've seen before and it would be a lie to say that the clock tower isn't stunning looking, no matter how many times I've seen it. Nothing in my life isn't a photo op. I've wished more than once that I could blink my eyes and retain exactly what I was seeing in an image, physically, mentally, whatever. Would I be any better off, in being true to myself, if I didn't pick up my camera and snap this? Would I be any more wholesome, would I get it more?

fillmeup buttercup.

I'd like to take the time to go back to the USA, to talk about a few events that have been happening over there that I probably haven't had enough time to talk about. Another point of this is to maybe let the folks abroad in on some important information they've missed out on because they aren't paying a lot of money for internet in their room because they're not obsessed with stuff like this like I am.

First off, this is old news, but it needed to be repeated here: Angelina Jolie is pregnant with Brad Pitt's baby. Another glaring piece of evidence that celebrities in Hollywood have NO IDEA what birth control is OR that Hollywood's leading men have uncanny abilities to get their girlfriends pregnant at really weird times (see Cruise, Tom). Just, come ON. I've never been a big fan of Angelina, but to submit to carrying Brad Pitt's baby? Do no women have any self respect? This is all just too fast.

Secondly, about that Tom Cruise. Apparently for Katie Holmes' birthday, he gave her a very special gift - a DVD collection of every movie he's ever been in, including, and I quote: "Each was inscribed with a special handwritten love message to the future mother of his child." Everybody is so obsessed with babies. Babies everywhere! (5points if you know the reference.)

Thirdly, I haven't decided which dress is my favorite at the Globes yet. I'll be sure to link a picture when I decide. All of them have been nice, just nothing stand outish. Mostly because Nicole Kidman and Cate Blanchett weren't there. Obviously Scarlett Johansson is going to be on the cover of everything but that's only because her boobs were just RIGHT THERE wherever you looked and some gay designer grabbed them. Hey, thank goodness Halle Berry wasn't there, because her dresses are stupid and she always ends up on the cover of every magazine the week after. (P.S. The picture is of Stephen Chow, director of 'Kung Fu Hustle' and 'Shaolin Soccer' and numerous other screen gems. He was at the Globes, he lost to some little insignificant movie called 'Paradise Now' (NOT!) but he's so adorable.)

And fourthly, to bring this back around, here's a picture of the park I ate my cheap little pound-fifty sandwich in the other day. The sandwich didn't fill me up, but this view did. Tomorrow and the next day will be days for exploring. (P.S. Now EVERYBODY can post a comment due to my changing some settings!)

propellers.

"sleeping with a gun under my pillow"

Hello! School, actually, is starting to settle in. I started researching in the library today for a paper far in advance just because I felt really bad about having not had any schoolwork to do. Today during my 'Postmodernities' class I realized I was perhaps, for the first time, thrown in way over my head. The teachers, both brilliant men, I think, were just talking about essentially 'Maclaester Things,' heteronormativity and the body without organs and I just was thrown back to my first semester at Macalester - so ignorant, so naive!

That will change. I'm about to get on the homework bandwagon. That will be my life for the next couple of days. It's comforting but also sad, really? I don't know. I haven't found a subject for my novel - hadn't much had time to think about it. On Thursday I continue my run at the Curry Club at the Shakespeare's Head pub - 5.99 for curry and a pint! - and then perhaps Andrea and I will go to Oxford, and then Stonehenge on Saturday. Oh, wonderfully tourist. I'm very excited. This is where my money is supposed to go. Time is going by fast, I realize. You all told the truth. I was lying when I said I might never get through 5months here. I am actually more competent than I thought.... in some aspects? Though if you are reading this, I probably miss you. I probably do.

This is, however, perhaps one of the most beautiful times in my life. Away from almost anything I know and yet right smack dab in the middle of the city I feel I've come to know the best. This is my goal - I need to remind myself from time to time - this was one of my life goals, to live in London. And this is it. And I've got to say -it has not disappointed me. I love London. I do I do.

pics: russian winter festival/lewisham

lewisham way.

I live a twenty minute walk away from Greenwich, the center of time, the center of past royalty, the center of the British naval operations back in the day. There is a shop there that proudly touts itself as 'The First Shop in the World!' as it lies at 0.4degrees latitude. That is the view out of my window. Nothing special, it's a bit close to the street. But it's right across the street from a Launderette, filled with people all day long, and across the street from a dressmaker, who's mannequins glow all night long from behind the transluscent roll-down gate. There are tacky fast food shops that line the street, advertising fried chicken barbecued the 'american way!' They're open all night long and are a fixture for students who need chips for a pound at 2am. Today I walked around the neighborhood, the part where you get suburbia - lines of houses. And as I walked, I thought, everything here is so interesting, every building has a character that I would not look for in homes at home. Is this me being enamored with the life of foreigners or is it true? And why is it that there are so many more hidden staircases that lead to areas where I want to peek my head through fences and watch backyard windows for extended periods of time?

I went to the Russian Winter Festival in Trafalgar Square, where I heard more Russian spoken in one place than I'd ever heard before - who knew there were so many Russian Londoners! There were thousands upon thousands of people - surely every inch of Trafalgar Square was covered - and if you know how big Trafalgar Square is, you know how many people there were. It was a fun event, though, with the Kremlin guard performing, the Mayor of London and Mayor of Moscow speaking, and even "snow" imported straight from Russia! How kind. Nevertheless, the Mayor of London really phoned it in, kept talking about how important and honored the city was to have this great relationship with the country that helped so much during the war and how while the West (aka USA) turned against Russia, London never would..blah blah blah. Oh, the front of politics.

I have another day of non-class tomorrow. I am about to fall asleep so I should get plenty of rest before exploring. Thames Walk, perhaps? National Portrait Gallery? My 4-day weekends are unbelievable. Just let me know if any of you European kids have a good 4-day weekend in which I should come visit you, because I can be there.

wich of green.

Went to Greenwich today for a couple hours. Found out that Henry VIII and Elizabeth I were born at a palce on the site of the university there. Peed my pants. Walked 'round the Cutty Sark and the park where there were beautiful views of the city, the Thames, and the Royal Observatory. More pictures on webshots...

somewhere a clock is ticking

It’s been a lifetime since I wrote the last entry: one week. This is the thing: I was lying in bed last week, really sad and all, and I knew it would get better – or at least I knew the odds were very high. And here I am – and life is revolutionized. I’ve got the internet up in my room, due to some technology I don’t understand and a bunch of ₤s. I’ve got some semblance of a crew and days filled with laughter and teasing people and talking to people – all my favorite things. This is London with all the basics covered. This is London where I can finally settle down and be happy with things that are personal and start to get to know the city.

No new pictures – I feel like I’m wasting my time. But it’s only been a week. I’ve had all my classes by now – all that’s settled. I just started writing about my classes but I feel that’s really the least interesting of everything, though that’s not supposed to be the case. Okay, they’re interesting, but not to write about. Not to read about. Except I had a class today with the weirdest little strange man in England – for my ‘France and Germany Since 1870’ – first he looked really mean, then just really started to freak me out. He makes spastic gestures with his hands and touches his hair a lot and has a face like a chipmunk. I'm afraid I might have to change classes. I don't know if I can handle more of this.

Also don't want to miss gallery visits for my museum curating class to listen to a deranged chipmunk talk happily about the Third Reich. Oh, shit.

Niches and Nietzsche - I am finding both here.

I've covered a lot of London in the last week but I haven't done any real exploring like I planned to do - the spiritual alone kind. Tomorrow is the start of my four day weekend and I'm going to Greenwich.

latenightnothings

I've been really poor at updating, I know. Tomorrow I am supposed to get internet in my dorm so unitl then, my inability to write long things in areas other than my 'home base' is taking over the update rate of this blog. Until then, here is contact information just in case you went to send me a letter by post or have an emegency where only I can do something to help:

My Name
Flat 1B
Chesterman House
334 New Cross Road
New Cross
London
SE14 6AG
Phone: 079 6789 6294

london shocks pt. 2.

I feel as though I can finally rationally write in this. I’ve calmed down enough to write something coherent and not completely terrifying. Last night, to put it simply, was a mess. Jetlagged and aching, I was desperately lonely with no possible connection to anybody by internet or phone, and absolutely nobody around. It did not help that I haven’t seen a soul (and still haven’t) around in my completely uninviting flat and that my faceless neighbor played Mariah Carey from 4pm to 4:30am and then started up again at 8:30am. So I appreciated it, really, when she sang some song about not wanting to cry. It really helped me stop. Really. Not really.

Although I have been all over London by the second day, I don’t think I’ve processed that I’m there. Everything I’ve done thus far has sort of just skimmed the surface of the city – just walking, mad walking, seeing, gaping. How do you dig deep into a city? How do you make it your own? It’s true that I’ve never felt like I’ve owned a city – I never conquered Berkeley nor San Francisco. And by conquered, I mean really know the feel of a city, know where to go when everything else is closed, see somebody pass the same point everyday, recognize people recognize me.

I think that’s a good thesis for this semester, then – to make London not just London, but a little niche that is completely unique to me. Having the first day of orientation, it can be assumed that I won’t have much coursework. My time will be absolutely free. I have four classes which meet 2 hours each a week on one day each and one essay for each class. So this is the goal; let’s see if I change it:

1. Find somewhere in London that feels like falling in love.
2. Go there a lot.
3. Write a series of short stories/novel.
4. If I run out of money, make like JK Rowling and write on coffee shop napkins with stolen pens from grocery stores in shoes that aren’t my own.

If I can do this, and I don’t even mean the stories part, I simply mean achieving goal 1. I honestly don’t know if I’m capable of it – of becoming an integral part of a landscape.

I’m jumping ahead of myself. I talked to people today – saw a lot of familiar faces. That was calming and lovely and made a big difference but obviously, I’m still looking for other people. Londoners. Who can help me get to know it. Who show me what they know. I’ve been working on lip curvature, trying to get them to turn a little up instead of a little down, to try to open up my body language, but even though I’ve gotten significantly better, I’m still not too good with it.

I have yet to buy food. I spent a significant amount of money today and two of my toenails have a bunch of caked-up blood from new shoes and miles of walking but it’s a start. Andrea and I met up and went into Central London and down Kings Road in Chelsea. Found a SIM card and visited the ‘World of Narnia’ in the basement of the Orange mobile phone store. It was half-assed and absurd, part-Narnia ad and part-Orange ad. We met up with Ben Garnett and had a curry dinner and a pint for 5.99 total at Shakespeare’s Head near Covent Garden. Needless to say, I had barely reached halfway and was red in the face, but a long walk to Marble Arch cleared that up. But, hey, this is a big deal! A pint at a pub! I’m in the club. We smoked loads at a hookah bar and walked back through Covent Garden, Piccadilly, Leicester, and Trafalgar Squares. A similar walk to last night, except this time we covered Shaftesbury Avenue when I wet my pants at seeing large facades for the Queen musical, Blood Brothers, and Les Miserables. Always Les Mis.

The details don’t matter any more. We stopped once more for dessert and went on home. And Mariah Carey neighbor is making other strange noises that I’m not going to question because they aren’t nearly as loud as Mariah.

I’m afraid this is long and dull. I’m afraid I’m going to become desperate and go to extreme measures to find internet access in the dorms, the first of which includes walking up and down the stairs to see if there is any wireless network anywhere in range, even if I have to sit on a landing. It may be pathetic – you say, BUT YOU’RE IN LONDON! – but listen, I’ve got nothing but time. I have 5months. I can’t be out all the time – nobody can. I want some comfort and contact at 12am after a long day. I need to look up things that I’ve seen during the day, that I’ve thought about, and I forget and nothing gets done.

The city is one thing, but the city is full of people. I need to be full of people. Then maybe, possibly, London and I might truly bond.

I have a pillow tonight. I plan on sleeping well and visiting the Tate Modern tomorrow.

“Lately I’m finding that I am the book and you are the binding.”

London Photos-
http://community.webshots.com/album/537781237VxyFQw

london shocks pt. 1.