Jolly Old England

When people told me that the nice (albeit sporadic) weather we had in April, May and June would constitute summer I thought no way. We are guaranteed some nice weather in the actual summer. Boy was I ever wrong!

For the past several weeks it has done nothing but piss down rain here. It has been chilly rainy one day and humid rainy another. This lovely combination of temperature has given me a lovely summer cold. The rain in London is expected by anyone who comes here (or should be) but it doesn't stop it being any less annoying when it does in fact rain. I feel like even though life goes on in the rain it puts a damper on my mood and anything I could ever possibly want to do. So I have stayed inside for the majority of the past several weeks and it has not been super fun. It did however help me during my dissertation hibernation! But all in all it is disgusting and I have had enough! Where is the sun?

I know that not everyone can have a Shelter Island summer complete with sun (almost) everyday, tanning oil, stretches of beach and ice cold drinks. But it appears all London has to offer you in the summer are soaked through shoes and a constant need to blow your nose.

I have been bottling this rant up inside for a while and of course today when I sit down to actually write it, the sun is shining and there are fluffy white clouds in the sky! Make up your mind Mother Nature!

Facial Hair is NOT For Eating

I set out on a trek to East London to locate a container city called Trinity Buoy Wharf. I boarded the District Line at Putney Bridge and sat directly across from a guy with quite a bit of facial hair. Now facial hair doesn't bother me, I have friends who love guys with a beard, but this guy was on a whole other level.

I watched in fascination for a few minutes as he apparently couldn't get enough of touching his mustache and then his beard. My fascination quickly turned to disgust as he began smoothing his mustache down towards his mouth and proceeded to capture it between his lips. At this point I could NOT look away; it was like a car crash. The guy that was next to him saw me staring and he turned to look at the guy, made a face and quickly turned away. I however kept on watching this, knowing it would not end well. The guy continued to stroke some form of said facial hair (including his side burns) until he got off several stops later. He was reading a book at the same time but as I watched I noticed that he didn't turn one page in that book. My guess is that he spent all his energy on fondling his facial hair and he couldn't focus on anything else. Due to his premature departure I don't know what happened to him or his facial hair, but my guess is that it didn't turn out well for the mustache.

I have never witnessed anything like that before and pray that I never do again. I mean a guy who eats his mustache canNOT be right in the head.

If You Don't Like Cricket, There is Only One Reason to Go To NW8

Before I knew exactly what was going on I was on my way to St. Johns Wood in North London. What is so interesting there one might ask. Well, I'll tell you, Abbey Road and the zebra crossing made famous by the cover of the namesake album. I decided that I should see this before I leave London, and as I am leaving in about 3 weeks I figured it was time to check it out.

As I ascended into the unknown (I do not normally frequent northwest London) I just assumed I would have to go out and wander til I found what I was looking for. To my surprise the tube station does its best to help you out so you don't wander around like an idiot. I read where I needed to go and as I walked outside I forgot the directions after cross the street and walk down the one across from it. As it turned out I simply had to walk straight and eventually found a clearing where there was a small crowd and I assumed that meant I had found what I was looking for. I watched as pedestrians tried to reinact the famous Beatles cover by walking across the zebra crossing in fours if they are lucky, three if no one can take their picture and even the lone straggler. Now what no one thinks of is the fact that Abbey Road is in fact a road. It has actual cars that use it and there isn't a way to stop them. I get it, it's a famous crossing, but seriously, walk across and move on. I found myself drawn to watching this one couple who was trying really hard to get a picture of the woman crossing. She would wait for him to say ok and then a bunch of others would cross so she would wait. This went on for several minutes before I finally decided that they were both stupid and that I would be one of the many that was ruining their photo opp this time around. I know it was mean but just do it and move on! So what if another person is in the photo with you!

After crossing I found myself face to face with several walls that have been written and drawn on for years. I was also surprised to find tears clouding my vision. I love The Beatles as much as the next sane person but I was shocked to find myself along the lines of those Harry Potter fans that could not contain their hysterical sobs! Now I was no where near sobbing, but I did have to force myself to stop this ridiculous display in the street! I wandered along reading what people had to say and zeroing in on the lyrics that were written, (I of course had to add my own little message before I left) but I was struck by the sheer force of this band. They touched the lives of countless people from all over the world. The lyrics from their most well known songs reverberating around me. I found myself humming the tune to Revolution and smiling when I realized that I do Get By With a Little Help From my Friends. This wall is in front of Abbey Road Studios, which by and large is very disappointing.The entire building is covered in blue tarps due to what can only be assumed is a mass refurbishing. The only sign is right above the door and is rather far from where you are allowed to stand. This eye sore did not deter anyone from snapping photo after photo. Instead of snapping pictures of something truly ugly I wandered further down Abbey Road and was happy to find an actual Abbey Road sign that wasn't stuck high up on the side of a building!

As I sit near my open window listening to these songs I find that, while I can't even begin to understand the enormity of this band, I understand how the lyrics touched so many lives and still do to those lucky enough to be introduced to them. Afterall, Happiness is a Warm Gun.

Harry Potter: Reality vs. Fantasy

I would like to share this one ranting post before I begin my dissertation induced hibernation.

As the end of the Harry Potter era draws near, I find myself in a queue at the midnight showing in London, the length of the basilisk in The Chamber of Secrets; like the basilisk, it looks like it stretches on forever! As I stand with my friends I look around at the people who are waiting with us. I discover we are surrounded by many different groups of people. There are the diehard Potter fans that are decked out from head to toe in some kind of wizard costume; whether it is Gryffindor, Slytherin, Dumbledore or just wearing some kind of school uniform. This group of people are the ones wearing Harry glasses (complete with tape) and sporting wands and it makes me wonder how many of them actually think those wands might work for them one day. Within this group of diehard fans was an Irish girl who looked to be about 18 and she was making her rounds along the queue to enlighten everyone as to their amazing idea: when the credits begin to roll, stand up with your wands (or just your hands for those of us muggles) and shout ‘mischief managed’. As soon as the words came out of her mouth I felt laughter bubble up inside of me and I had all I could do not to let it out while they were right in front of us. Later as the credits did in fact begin to roll I watched as these girls (sat just 3 rows ahead of us) stood up, pointed their wands and shouted the tag line. I also watched as no one else did it. I guess some of us missed the memo.

Now, Harry Potter 7 Part 2 was absolutely amazing (regardless of the fact that I had to see it in 3D)! So amazing in fact that I would totally go see it again. However, never in my life have I been in a movie theatre surrounded by more loud criers than I was this morning. I am talking full on sobs and sniffles. Now yes, I am a crier when it comes to movies and of course this one was no exception (we all loved Fred!), but there is a limit to how involved I get with a movie. Don’t get me wrong, I love Harry Potter; I own 2 different versions of and have read the series several times, own and have seen all the movies more times than I care to count and I am sad that it has come to an end. But there has to be a line between real and fantasy. These diehard fans are the ones that scream every time someone is shown on the screen that they deem worthy (FINALLY Rom and Hermione kissed!); and this is not just reserved for the actual actor, it also rings true during the credits for their names. These are the people who are ferociously snapping picture after picture of a film. Kudos to JK Rowling for creating something so amazing that it reaches the fans like that but when you walk out of a movie and you see girls hysterically sobbing gripped onto a friend you have to wonder what the hell has happened in your life that caused you to be so moved by a movie that you can’t control yourself.

I mean really, get a friggen’ grip it is, after all, just a movie!