London: day thirty

Got to experience my first Tube strike today. Boy, when the Tube isn’t running, let me tell you, traffic is a bitch (for lack of a better word). I was thanking my lucky stars that I wasn’t a commuter and that I didn’t have a long way to travel. Tula and I were able to get on the bus on our way to class and miraculously found seats, however, the trip took almost forty minutes, and we still had to get off a station early and run for about two blocks in order to make it to class on time, arriving completely out of breath only five minutes late. Which, as it turns out the running wasn’t necessary because our professor was stuck in traffic and ended up being fifteen minutes late anyway.

The lecture went fine and Tula and I ran across the street to a nearby café for lunch during the break. After class, I met up with my group from my British Youth Culture class and we briefly discussed our group project, before I started making my way back to NIDO. Initially, I was going to try the bus again, but after waiting and waiting and watching traffic scrape by at a snail’s pace, I thought, “screw it” and just decided to walk despite the rain and wind. Even though the weather was crap, it definitely wasn’t as cold as it could have been.  It is funny, because a few days ago I was walking to class and there was this man on the corner selling magazines. A rather big, black guy who seemed quite enthusiastic about his job despite having to stand on a street corner for hours in the rain. Compared to the other magazine-sellers I’d seen who sat quietly on milk crates, bundled up, talking quietly and inaudibly at people who paid them no mind, this guy was on his feet, moving (probably to keep warm), singing when there was no one near, and smiling at passer-bys, asking how their day was. Because of his friendliness, I did what most others weren’t doing and I responded to him and returned the compliment and asked him how he was. Even though it was only a brief exchanged as I passed by, his smile lit up even brighter and likewise, his enthusiasm was rather contagious. Later, as I was walking back from class with Hannah, we passed by him again and I did not expect anything, but apparently he recognized me and as soon as he saw me he lit up again and greeted me with a, “hey! It’s you again! Just a half day today? [of class]” I responded affirmatively and told him I’d see him later. Couple days went by and I have been taking the bus so I had actually forgotten all about it, but today as I walked by the same street corner, I was almost past when, over my music, I heard a “hey!” and I turned to see him waving over the top of the heads of the line of passing people, I smiled back and responded in kind. I couldn’t help smiling for a good while afterwards as I continued on my way – it is amazing the type of contagious joy some people have and I wish I had such a gift. Even within the few exchanges, there seemed to be a tiny friendship created from polite words and acknowledgement of one another’s existence. It’s something that doesn’t seem to happen often in the city, but which, likewise, could never occur anywhere else in quite the same way.

I continued along until I reached Euston Street where I stopped at the street corner for a moment. Despite the weather which had let up a bit, I didn’t really feel like going back to NIDO, so I turned the opposite way and made my way down to Gower Street. Now, the other night, when I was looking for Primark, I had taken Gower in the hopes of stumbling across the flat and café that appears as 221B in the BBC Sherlock series, however, I did not find it. Because of this, I then knew, that it lay not on Gower but on North Gower which extends in the opposite direction off of Euston. My sister had messaged me on Facebook earlier in the day saying that she missed me, and it reminded me that I had wanted to find this place to send her a picture. Sure enough, as soon as I turned onto North Gower (if I had only just turned around last time I was there) there was Speedy’s Café with the black door and the brass knocker to the flat that appears as 221B Baker Street in Sherlock. Unfortunately the café was closed as it would have been nice to pop in and escape the rain for a moment, but I snapped two pictures and decided that I would just have to come back later. I wandered around a few blocks then returned back to Euston and made my way back to NIDO where I’ve just been kind of relaxing since, and have been practicing my guitar for a good hour or so. Planning on going to Primark tomorrow – just because. Also, though, Hannah and I booked tickets to go to Canterbury this Friday as well as tickets for Brighton this Sunday. So it will be nice to get out of the city for a bit – really looking forward to it.

My roomate told me that she was glad she got  me as a roomate because I don't talk constantly haha. We have been getting along quite well, and she occasionally asks me to clarify topics or to spell English words for her. While we don't have a whole lot in common; she's quite the health-nut and I'm, well...not. We get along quite well and have had no problems at all. She is a little overly concerned with staying skinny and keeping her complexion clear and devotes a great amount of time to working out and washing her face, and often gives me food that she doesn't want. She gave me a couple bags of chips today just because she regretted buying them and didn't want the temptation of eating them when she was working out so hard. I felt bad taking them because I keep wanting to requite and give her something in return, but she doesn't want anything sweet and it just seems weird to buy fruit as a gift for someone... She really is sweet though. I was playing my guitar today also and she asked me if I had heard the band "The Pretty Reckless" - which I had not. So I looked them up, and surprisingly found them quite good. As I was listening to the song "Just Tonight" on Youtube, she claimed they were the only rock band that she liked (another big difference), and said that she liked the girl's style. Peipei then popped her head out of the bathroom with a smile and said, "You look similar!" Which I laughed at because at that exact moment in the music video the girl was dressed in a really quite Gothic style - dark, dark lipstick, pasty, overly white skin and hair, and a pretty extreme black dress. However, when I looked up the acoustic version of the song (which she said was better), it was a little more understandable, oddly enough, there was definitely a similarity especially in the way we both did our eye makeup which was almost identical. So, long story short, by good luck with roomates is still holding out!!

"Hello from London!"

Also, it is rather interesting being in London, since most of you know me, you know the kind of "style" I have; band t-shirts, ripped jeans, heavy eye make-up, jewelry, etc. However, while in America, that is not really out of place at all, here, I have been surprised that I really do stand out a bit. London is a metropolis if there ever was one, meaning everyone here is richy rich. Anyone who can afford to live and work in London can afford name brand clothing, and it is staggering how many people are EXTREMELY well dressed. You see more people in designer suits than in not, or at least very nice ones. So when I come down the street, walking back from class with my Banksy tank top, shredded jeans, slouchy hat with the Pink Floyd button, red flannel which I wear with my thumbs through the button holes as half gloves, studded boots, and long black coat - I stand out a bit. And it is funny because sometimes they look at me like I'm some sort of punk, especially some of the older business men and women. Sometimes I catch people looking at me out of the corner of their eye on the Tube, and they look away when I catch them. Personally, I just find it amusing, and think that I'm less likely to get my wallet stolen if they think that I'm the one who's going to be doing it hahahaha!