Fifty-nine. Jumble sale.
I don't think this is going to be a terribly thematic and artsy entry - more a collage of things I want to remember, things about life and London and what's happening now.
First and foremost, marla_sokoloff has my love from now until the end of time. A girl could not ask for a better friend and heterosexual life-mate, to steal the Kevin Smith phrase, and I'm lucky. There are too many reasons to go into, but nobody else is so good at anticipating what will keep my feet on the ground and my chin up and making sure it's there. And now she's bringing me my Thora, and providing me a pretext to see Franco and actually meet his Justin, should things go well? Marla wins at everything.
But next most importantly, I've finally found a home here in London. When I first came upon Wimbledon itself while just passing through, I fell almost immediately in love, and finding a place to live in Wimbledon, which feels like a small town while still being London itself, is perfection. I knew from the moment I got off the train and turned a corner there and found the most beautiful toyshop I've ever seen that I loved Wimbledon; what's happened after has just been more steps in the process of falling for this particular corner of the city. There's anything and everything I could want in a place to live here, and I'm close enough to the big Safeway that has a giant multicultural food fair every Wednesday that I can feel perfectly delighted and at home in all ways, given how picky I am about food. I think the too-skinny look is going to go away, because London has some of the best Indian food on the planet, and I'm indulging. And if it's strange to have salmon and clotted cream as options for your Mongolian barbecue, what of it? The house I've found here is not large, but it's comfortable, with the sturdy sense of history underfoot that all my favorite parts of London hold. There's a red fox with a pair of kits living in my new backyard, and she seems comfortable with me moving in.
You don't have to seek out history and age in London; it's everywhere. Still, that's one of the things I look for, which is a reason that going antiquing in the markets in Maritime Greenwich is a passion of mine. The British originated the jumble sale; they know how to throw a variety of things together, dross and treasures, and reward the careful eye with goodies and the casual shopper with white-elephant items that still hold a certain charm. I particularly love the art stalls, because even if what you find isn't worth money, you're going to find something to love if you appreciate art at all. Better yet were the unstrung antique beads for sale; I know people who're getting some presents from me in the future.
At the end of the day, if I've got time to spare, I find myself gravitating either to the city's museums or to Charing Cross Road. Now, the museums in London -- they're everywhere, and they're weird, beginning and ending with the Sir John Soame's museum, one of my favorites. The founder understood the jumble sale principle; he bought anything that looked like it had some history or intellectual significance. The museum is packed with...the unexpected. There's all sorts of things there, without too much rhyme or reason beyond 'this is so neat!'. I think I like it better than the formal art museums, one of my favorite places by far. Charing Cross Road, however, is almost literally a siren song for me; it holds instrument and music shops, and old bookstores and art stores galore. I could wander up and down that road, just playing piano after piano, if I were allowed.
As kidnappers go, Colin Firth is worth changing your name to Tania for, if only for his taste in restaurants. I don't think I've had a better meal in ages, and the company matched it and bettered it.
I'm almost regretting the fact that I'm going to have to do real work here. I could retire young here and live a life of leisure. Then again, I may not be so caught up in my work that leisure ends. Working with Guy Pearce -- that should compensate for having to end that pure life of leisure, shouldn't it?
First and foremost, marla_sokoloff has my love from now until the end of time. A girl could not ask for a better friend and heterosexual life-mate, to steal the Kevin Smith phrase, and I'm lucky. There are too many reasons to go into, but nobody else is so good at anticipating what will keep my feet on the ground and my chin up and making sure it's there. And now she's bringing me my Thora, and providing me a pretext to see Franco and actually meet his Justin, should things go well? Marla wins at everything.
But next most importantly, I've finally found a home here in London. When I first came upon Wimbledon itself while just passing through, I fell almost immediately in love, and finding a place to live in Wimbledon, which feels like a small town while still being London itself, is perfection. I knew from the moment I got off the train and turned a corner there and found the most beautiful toyshop I've ever seen that I loved Wimbledon; what's happened after has just been more steps in the process of falling for this particular corner of the city. There's anything and everything I could want in a place to live here, and I'm close enough to the big Safeway that has a giant multicultural food fair every Wednesday that I can feel perfectly delighted and at home in all ways, given how picky I am about food. I think the too-skinny look is going to go away, because London has some of the best Indian food on the planet, and I'm indulging. And if it's strange to have salmon and clotted cream as options for your Mongolian barbecue, what of it? The house I've found here is not large, but it's comfortable, with the sturdy sense of history underfoot that all my favorite parts of London hold. There's a red fox with a pair of kits living in my new backyard, and she seems comfortable with me moving in.
You don't have to seek out history and age in London; it's everywhere. Still, that's one of the things I look for, which is a reason that going antiquing in the markets in Maritime Greenwich is a passion of mine. The British originated the jumble sale; they know how to throw a variety of things together, dross and treasures, and reward the careful eye with goodies and the casual shopper with white-elephant items that still hold a certain charm. I particularly love the art stalls, because even if what you find isn't worth money, you're going to find something to love if you appreciate art at all. Better yet were the unstrung antique beads for sale; I know people who're getting some presents from me in the future.
At the end of the day, if I've got time to spare, I find myself gravitating either to the city's museums or to Charing Cross Road. Now, the museums in London -- they're everywhere, and they're weird, beginning and ending with the Sir John Soame's museum, one of my favorites. The founder understood the jumble sale principle; he bought anything that looked like it had some history or intellectual significance. The museum is packed with...the unexpected. There's all sorts of things there, without too much rhyme or reason beyond 'this is so neat!'. I think I like it better than the formal art museums, one of my favorite places by far. Charing Cross Road, however, is almost literally a siren song for me; it holds instrument and music shops, and old bookstores and art stores galore. I could wander up and down that road, just playing piano after piano, if I were allowed.
As kidnappers go, Colin Firth is worth changing your name to Tania for, if only for his taste in restaurants. I don't think I've had a better meal in ages, and the company matched it and bettered it.
I'm almost regretting the fact that I'm going to have to do real work here. I could retire young here and live a life of leisure. Then again, I may not be so caught up in my work that leisure ends. Working with Guy Pearce -- that should compensate for having to end that pure life of leisure, shouldn't it?