Monday 30 August 2010

Damnit, Thomas Fariner, YOU killed the dinosaurs?!

I’m pretty obsessed with the Tube. People sprint down the escalator and freak out even though another train comes literally every three minutes. The walls of every escalator in every station are covered with playbills intermixed with report crime to your police (even though there are cameras everywhere. It’s a little creepy). There is also a designated busking spot in most stations! My favorites so far have been an accordion player and this really crazy electric guitarist. One wall was covered in little tiles with Sherlock Holmes’s profile which is what I have decided I’m going to use for the bathroom tiles in my house.
Yesterday, we went on a tour of Roman London which included the London wall and a really old temple to Mithras which is awkwardly/hilariously surrounded by an impossibly shaped office building because they had started building before they found the temple. The Museum of London I learned about the Great Fire that burnt down three quarters of London in 1666 was started in Thomas Fariner’s bakery, and from his picture I get the impression that he was one of those guys that was really friendly but didn’t take a hint. Like he probably still showed up at barbeques with a casserole after that and made people really uncomfortable. But I also feel kind of bad for him because they probably blamed him for everything after that -- kid didn't get first chair viola, fall of the British empire, Enron.

Anyway, then we went to the Royal Albert Hall to see the Czech Philharmonic orchestra, which was the best thing in the entire universe (expect Camden Town). Yes, it was a beautiful building with a FOUNTAIN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE AUDIENCE, and yes, it was a beautifully performed concert complete with glorious cello features, but these are side notes to the fact that literally every time there was a pause between movements, the entire audience commenced in a fit of extremely theatrical coughing akin to the type of thing you pull on a substitute teacher in 6th grade. I tried to figure out if this was a strange British custom, everyone had swine flu, or perhaps the British people knew we were there and were pulling an elaborate hoax to mess with the boorish Americans, but I still have no idea (I'm actually pretty sure it was Thomas Fariner's fault). At intermission, some guys in the balcony screamed HEAVE and then the crew moving the piano screamed HOE, which just struck me as really hilarious because the symphony is supposed to be fancy and pretentious and crap, and I feel like the British like to screw around (I think it’s a more mass popular thing here). Also, the conductor was wearing neon yellow cuffs, which makes sense because then the musicians can see them, but now I kind of want a pair. Our seats were in the balcony and my feet were right near this thick metal cable holding up the lights, and I was fairly sure that the piano soloist (who was one of those awesome looks-like-he’s-having-a-seizure musicians. Crazy twitch musicians are my favorite. I’m pretty sure that Lady Gaga does those crazy Michael Jackson/T-Rex arms because she was classically trained.) was going to zipline down it. Or at least be raised out of the ground on a giant platform with a giant fountain spurting out on all sides.

Last night the demon clock that Connor gave me randomly went off 8 times in the middle of the night, so I took it out in the hallway and smashed it and chucked it into the trashcan and then this morning when I woke up to go the bathroom it was still beeping. I’m pretty sure if I took the battery out it would still go off (and inevitably elope with a Furby, the other automatronic demon robot of our generation).

So then today Jess (yes, I have found another Jess. But she is not shorter than me) and I went to the Nottingham Afro-Caribbean Festival and it was the best thing in the entire universe (expect the Royal Albert Hall and Camden Town). The Tube was so crowded that I had to contort myself into what I’m pretty sure is the One-Legged King Pigeon position in yoga (side note: my goateed professor is apparently certified in yoga and enjoys metal music. I don’t expect those types of hobbies from someone named Carl) in order to avoid being crushed to death. The festival itself was awesome. There was this huge parade with people in really ornate outfits and people dancing everywhere. People were selling curried goat and plantains from their porches, and we saw this one lady selling the use of her restroom for one pound. We bought a coconut and the guy that sold it to us held it up in the air and just whipped out a machete and lopped off the top (pretty badass).

I have finally found someone that is better at losing stuff than I am. One of my roommates loses her keys about every 5 minutes and gets lost everywhere we go. Also, the other night, she was eating crackers at like 3AM but I thought it was zombies eating brains because I was half asleep.

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