09/09/09: One for the Books

Yesterday was one of those days when everything clicked. It started easily enough, rousing myself out of bed at an ungodly hour. It was about nine. But it felt ungodly, because I've taken to wearing the eye mask my dad got in an airplane pack when he when to China on business about a decade ago, and so it's pitch-dark when the alarm goes off. I don't care that it's sunny outside - it's night where my eyes are and therefore I shouldn't have to get up.

But I did. And I dressed in my newly-acquired impeccably fashionable manner. Most of you are probably rolling your eyes. But it's true. My dress has become quite competitive as far as London streets go. Most of you wouldn't even recognise (britspell) me!

I took the bus to the Centre. I've taken the bus every morning this week. I've never been too keen on walking, especially early in the morning when I'd rather be snoozing. The bus is a nice way to wake up, especially since I get to sit on the top of a double decker bus, with completely legitimate purpose. It's endlessly fascinating to watch the Londoners on their morning commute, out of the Underground and up and down the streets. People of all different dress, ethnicity and hair colour (britspell).

Though I take a long time in adjusting, living here is becoming easier. Places are familiar and I am feeling more comfortable. In the beginning it was like moving to college all over again. We all remember that hell. It was odd moving in with a hundred or so students, most of which I didn't know. But in the past two weeks I have made a number of friends, or a least friendly acquaintances, and the living is easier. I thrive on routine interruption, but in order to achieve that I need a routine. And I think I've finally got one.

I had my only class of the day, "Philosophy of Law." It manages to be endlessly interesting and endlessly dull. Two of my roommates Kelly and Danielle and my friend Scott are in it, so that makes it easier to bear. Especially when one of us decides to take on the professor, which is always entertaining.

After class I joined another roommate Eileen, my friend Lauren and their/now my friend Rene, along with Scott, on a journey to the Tate British. England seems to have an overabundance of art. It seems that no matter where I stand on this island there is some gallery within spitting distance. I can't decide if it's truly cultural, or if everyone in Britain just decided that they were going to elevate everything ever painted in the last 500 years to the status of Priceless and construct endless galleries to show off Yet Another British Cultural Thing.

But here I was, at the Tate British (NOT the Tate Modern) walking around aimlessly whilst my friends searched for their class-specific pieces.

I am not an art person. I'm an ART! person, but not a Lovely Painting of Cows in the English Countryside person. This time, though, I began to enjoy myself. Spurred on by my positive experience in the Portrait Gallery, I walked around looking for stories. The best paintings have good stories. Or at least give you an opportunity to create your own. And did I. My most favorite paintings were by a dude named John Everett Millais, who I'd never heard of before.

We have "Mariana":



She's from a Shakespeare play but I forget which one. Basically, she was promised to a guy she loved but then the ship carrying her dowry went down and he wouldn't marry her anymore. But she still loves him. And waits.

And "Order of Release":



After some battle with the Scottish, the woman gets her revolutionary husband released.

He's most famous, though, for "Ophelia," which I also saw:



From Hamlet. She went crazy and drowned herself. Like they tend to do.

After the Tate I stopped at a cafe in Leicester Square and had a raspberry smoothie while I read "Troilus and Cressida." The play is not Shakespeare's best. In fact, it's my least favorite of those I know. Good to know the man was human. But sitting and reading it at a cafe, oh so stylish, nearly made up for it.

That night was my friend Jim's birthday, and my flat had dinner with his flat. It was a full production, with beer brats, potatoes, veggies and NUTELLA CAKE. And brownies. And strawberries. And chocolate sauce. And a good time was had by all!

I'm currently listening to the Rockies/Reds game, which I found streaming online. God Bless whoever hacked 850 KOA. When Atkins got a homer I danced around the kitchen.

This weekend me and the flatmates (flatties?) and some friends are off to Edinburgh!

Oh, and STEWART COPELAND IS COMING TO A MUSIC STORE ON MY WAY TO SCHOOL ON MONDAY TO SIGN HIS NEW BOOK. STEWART. COPELAND. THE DRUMMER FOR THE POLICE. THE DRUMMER. FOR THE. POLICE. MY. FAVOURITE (britspell) DRUMMER. EVER. FROM. MY FAVORITE. BAND. EVER. EVER.