Sometimes when I am riding home at night, this strange feeling comes over me. I can't believe that I'm living here, in one of the biggest cities in Europe, riding a scooter like it was second nature past world-famous landmarks, dodging black cabs through rain filled streets and over scenic bridges. I think it must be the scooter that makes me feel this way, because I have lived and worked in other big cities, where I passed by the White House or rode across the Golden Gate Bridge without it feeling strange. It is something about speed combined with the feeling of being outside, something you can't get in a car or on a bicycle, nor through pubic transport.
Some strange little bits:
I know where the designated feeding area for cats is at the British Museum. I also know one spot where it is prohibited to feed cats at the British Museum because I fired two different kinds of fire extinguishers on a permanent sign stating this information.
One night while stopped at a light in the rain along side a cab a man in the back was staring at me. He then rolled down his window and pretended to take out his wallet and ask "how much? I'll take it!" He was not, referring to me of course, but to my whacky scooter.
I am addicted to Franz Ferdinand. There is this one guitar lick in the opening track "Jacqueline" that reminds me of a Dead Kennedy's song. It makes me feel old. Old and ROCKIN'!
I took this outside my window. The kitchen faces south and gets a lot of sun in the mornings, but it still doesn't do much to keep the place warm. It feels like its just getting colder and colder.
Posted by shannon at 07:59 PM | Permalink
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Oh, I forgot to ad:
Yesterday I mailed in my application for an absentee ballot for the presidential election. It feels weird being so far away and not being bombarded with election stuff constantly, and yet still being able to have a say. Hopefully I won't get the full California ballot with the zillion ballot initiatives of which I will have absolutely no clue about.
I managed to watch most of HBO's Angels in America last weekend. It was very good, but I can't imagine sitting through the two three-hour plays it was taken from. It was easy to see why it won so many awards, including a Tony and a Pulitzer. My favourite character was the pragmatist, Belize, the black male nurse. He had some of the best lines, including this one:
"I hate America, Louis. I hate this country. Nothing but a bunch of big ideas, and stories, and people dying, and then people like you. The white cracker who wrote the national anthem knew what he was doing. He set the word 'free' to a note so high nobody can reach it. That was deliberate. Nothing on Earth sounds less like freedom to me."
--Belize, a transvestite African-American nurse, to Louis Ironson, who has abandoned his AIDS-afflicted gay lover.
Pretty harsh, yes? But it is a play about people dying of AIDS, what did you expect?
Posted by shannon at 05:20 PM | Permalink
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Posting
I wrote this lastnight, but since my server was down, I am posting it now.
Today was my birthday, AGAIN! Since my birthday fell during the middle of the week, my husband couldn't take me out and celebrate properly till the weekend. We had a lovely time this afternoon. First we had a gourmet and overpriced Champagne lunch at Bluebird. Then went to see Lost in Translation, which only came out a few weeks ago here. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie. Its interesting to watch a film that doesn't have much of a plot: you have no idea what is coming next, everything is a bit unexpected. Also, your brain isn't working in the background trying to figure anything out, it is free to just relax and enjoy the moments that seem to tumble out at random. Which is pretty much what I did. Good flick.
According to some new market research, my area of London, Wandsworth Borough, is the trendiest, most urbane spot in all of the UK! I find this amusing, as do many other Wandsworth residents. I can't seem to find an American equivilant for the phrase "chattering classes" that me and my fellow residents supposedly represent. Yuppies? I have a feeling thats not quite it, although I am guessing there are negative connotations, just as there are to the term "yuppie". Like I care. Trend isn't important to me, which is why I didn't mind moving to South London in the first place. But maybe thats how I ended up in trend-setting central? I would rather be on the cutting edge than the trailing edge, and any follower of a trend is already being influenced by an urge to belong, rather than an urge just to do what they desire. Of course sometimes its hard to know the difference. To me, Wandsworth is all about plenty of green spaces to play in and a roomy flat (one that doesn't have a closet-sized kitchen). Doesn't sound very cutting edge, does it?
Posted by shannon at 10:36 AM | Permalink
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