Guest Blogger
- MGB
Ed. Note: I really f-ing loved that soup.
MGB note: I really disapprove of the use of profanity.
Product Manager
- MGB
Ed. Note: I really f-ing loved that soup.
MGB note: I really disapprove of the use of profanity.
I could seriously live in London. Maybe I'll just stay here on Birkbeck Rd with Aoibh and Sam forver, wait for my bf to join me. (Pause 2 minutes for my mom to Google Maps search the address and Street View it.) Having an amazing time with my two favorite Irish people in the world-- they're riotously funny. Tonight we're going to THE PUB. And I will feed Aoibh enough booze until she sings HER SONG. (Apparently, Irish people really do break out into song at social gatherings, just like in THE MOVIES.)
I walked around Brick Lane and Spitalfields yesterday. Brick Lane is cool, lots of curry houses and small boutiques and cool graffiti. Ate lunch at a curry house (that's what they call Indian food) that HRH Prince Charles ate at once. I had lamb naga with naan, it was very good. I also had pickled lime chutney for the first time. For some reason I liked it, even though it was like sweet and sour cleaning fluid. The restaurant was empty; Sam said curry is a dinner food, not really a lunch food in London. Shoot, I would eat it at all three meals if I could!
I saw bank ads with characters from Little Britain, which I found immensely amusing. I hung around Trafalgar square and went to the National Portrait Gallery, which was very lovely. I got other tourists to take my picture, including a snapshot I like to call "Awkward Legs."
I went to Picadilly circus, and Saville Row. Men in London all wear these very nice suits-- very tailored, with flat front pants a little long in the rise, a little short at the hem, and really interesting tie/shirt combos. The shops were closed when I got there, but I looked in the windows for inspiration (for the bf). Except everyone is showing suits with puckered stitching on the edges, and neither I nor the bf like that.
And, delight of delights, I had lunch with an elementary school friend whose family came to LA in the 90's, and I haven't seen her in 13 years. We each turned into the women we were meant to be, it's unsettling. I have, in general, the same personality as I did at 9 years old, and so does she. At least I'm a little more generous and empathetic than before, but Elle can tell you, I had a sassy big mouth then, and now. Elle is a London fashion plate, and still incredibly sweet, big-hearted, and funny. Btw, everyone from Paris to London enjoys hearing about the bf, and several European ladies have said he's quite hot. (You can judge for yourself starting tomorrow.)
ps. Don't tell the bf what he's getting from London!
Staying with Aoibhéann, my Irish friend from Avignon, and her bf, Sam, also Irish, in London. My brain is freaked out-- it knows it's in a foreign land, and keeps trying to translate what people say from French to English, but it's already in English. The start of every sentence I overheard on the bus was immensely confusing. I bought an Oyster card, the London transport ticket card, so I feel very in-the-know. I was on the bus, and it stopped by this girls' school, and all these black teen girls (Carribean origin?) got on in their uniforms-- white, polyester shirts, pants or skirts, purple and navy striped ties. They were just like bands of teens back home-- loud, playing music on their cells, singing and chanting at the chorus, gasping and yelling when the bus passed cute teen boys on the street. It must be the last day of school, because they had all written all over each other's school uniform shirts. "Jenny, you slag! <3 you!"
I forgot how fascinating Paris is. The metro smells like fermented urine with high hay notes. People are wearing thong sandals more, but the dress is still pretty formal-- Parisians wear outfits, not clothes. Lots of Arab, Turkish, and North African immigrants. People really do hang around cafes, having coffee or coca-cola with friends. I nearly pissed my pants with intense desire for whatever they were selling in every chic/authentic/cute/modern/baazar-esque shop window. There is no branding in the world that I aspire more to than "authentic French délices" branding.