Talking to celebrities, in incoherent sentences
I am exhuasted and I can't write right now but I'm going to anyway to preoccupy myself so I don't do any further damage to my essays instead.
MMMmmm, Patrick Swayze danced his way into my heart tonight. People, see Guys and Dolls before he leaves on the 25th! The dance numbers made me feel so gooey inside! Oh sigh sigh sigh. I wish I could flex like those boys flexed.
The boy (er, man) may be 50 but he can still shake it. He did a little happy dance with Adelaide after bows and it looked like the happy dance I did in my head when I found out I got first in my French history class. (Woot to me).
How pleased am I with the fact that we got just got third row seats to the RSC to see Antony and Cleopatra starring PATRICK STEWART for FIVE POUNDS?! SO SO SO PLEASED. Mr. Stewart, I cannot wait for January when I will see your lovely shaved head and Roman nose.
We are going to hit up RSC's productions of the Tempest, Much Ado About Nothing, and Antony for a grand total of 30 bucks. Hells yes.
Judi Dench! We are harkening to you in Stratford-upon-Avon in our December all-over-Britain road trip! We haven't forgotten about you!
I am so exhausted from this weekend. I just need to get through Friday and then I'm off to Florence. Maybe I should go to bed. Novel idea.
There are things that I have to remember. I can't let it float out of my head like I usually do. My memories here seem so much more substantial and real. I honestly think the city makes it feel more real simply because it's freaking London and it's what I've always always wanted.
Things things for me to remember:
the string quartet in covent garden
walking around covent carden with neil
abi going to the world music awards and fulfilling one of her life's dreams by seeing michael jackson-- it's really a wonderful thing. I'm jealous--I only got 1/4th of my dream by seeing Paul McCartney in Boston.
lara and anam and abi stealing the huuge 007 promo banner at the bond premiere--and waving the royal wave to the queen.
joce and i marketing every sunday.
BOTELLON in Seville until 6 am. AHAHA.
Drinking from my own mini bottle of Champagne (provided by Wellesley) to a Wellesley function outside of Cordoba.
Being bitchy with Christina.
Being told by a (drunken) Spaniard that I was more beautiful than a ray of sunshine.
Dos besos, barbas, and mullets!
Tapas, jamon, tinto de verano, and PAN.
Singing along to Look on the Brighter Side of Life with a bunch of brits.
Being attacked by the peasants with coconuts outside the Palace during the premiere of Spamalot.
Brunch at Shakespeare's Head with the dears.
Ridiculousity at Harrod's and being too chicken to get in line for Father Christmas. As an Asian dating a Jew I just feel uncomfortable.
The opera singer singing Ave Maria in one of the balconies in the Egyptian escalator.
Mission Impossible: Florence
Every single amazing musician in the Tube
The guy on the tube with his friends on night at 12 am, who pulled a butt plug out of his plastic bag and declared that he was going to snort some coke, then roll the butt plug in cocaine and sit on the butt plug when he went home.
Subsequently, after the man got off the tube and flashed his nips to his friends who were still on the train, the obviously gay friend of the man holding his head and saying "honestly I get sick at the thought of him sitting on that."
Midnight cheeseburgers with Amber.
Seeing DCW at a Wellesley alum's mansion.
Drinks and networking at another Wellesley alum's mansion; coveting her rustic kitchen and British kids.
The Gherkin lit up at night.
Ian telling me he would give me a tantra massage with coconut oil. Weee.
Meeting Christina's parents in Spain
Second row seats to Avenue Q!
ARGOS. Oh ARGOS.
Dionysus after clubbing at Vodka Island.
The bus ride back from Ministry of Sound.
Walking around a deserted Covent Garden with Christina and feeling like we owned it.
Stroking Charlie's lovely back.
Tea! Tea with brits! Tea at home! Introducing tea, hobnobs, and penguins to visiting friends!
CLARO QUE SI!
Asking the brits to say "wham bam thank you ma'am" and finding out that yes, it does sound less vulgar with an accent.
Alexandria palace.
Fireworks for Guy Fawkes.
The bucket of candy floss.
WINE TASTINGS AT THE LSE.
Walking down Drury Lane.
Walking past the Chinese restaurant in the middle of the night and hearing the drunken karaoke.
Talking about Cockfoster's and Shepherd's Bush with Alex. Hee.
Christina running away from the pigeon's in Trafalgar Square.
The crazy ass tour around town.
Kicking ass in my management class.
Vintage stores in my neighborhood.
Making fajitas at Holborn.
The children at the Tate.
Lying on the ground staring at the slides.
The slit.
The music on the fourth floor.
Running around the National Portrait gallery.
The people who brought their own viewing chairs.
Desserts at Chinatown.
Overpriced Chinese take out.
I feel like I've already forgotten so much. dagjdgaah.
MMMmmm, Patrick Swayze danced his way into my heart tonight. People, see Guys and Dolls before he leaves on the 25th! The dance numbers made me feel so gooey inside! Oh sigh sigh sigh. I wish I could flex like those boys flexed.
The boy (er, man) may be 50 but he can still shake it. He did a little happy dance with Adelaide after bows and it looked like the happy dance I did in my head when I found out I got first in my French history class. (Woot to me).
How pleased am I with the fact that we got just got third row seats to the RSC to see Antony and Cleopatra starring PATRICK STEWART for FIVE POUNDS?! SO SO SO PLEASED. Mr. Stewart, I cannot wait for January when I will see your lovely shaved head and Roman nose.
We are going to hit up RSC's productions of the Tempest, Much Ado About Nothing, and Antony for a grand total of 30 bucks. Hells yes.
Judi Dench! We are harkening to you in Stratford-upon-Avon in our December all-over-Britain road trip! We haven't forgotten about you!
I am so exhausted from this weekend. I just need to get through Friday and then I'm off to Florence. Maybe I should go to bed. Novel idea.
There are things that I have to remember. I can't let it float out of my head like I usually do. My memories here seem so much more substantial and real. I honestly think the city makes it feel more real simply because it's freaking London and it's what I've always always wanted.
Things things for me to remember:
the string quartet in covent garden
walking around covent carden with neil
abi going to the world music awards and fulfilling one of her life's dreams by seeing michael jackson-- it's really a wonderful thing. I'm jealous--I only got 1/4th of my dream by seeing Paul McCartney in Boston.
lara and anam and abi stealing the huuge 007 promo banner at the bond premiere--and waving the royal wave to the queen.
joce and i marketing every sunday.
BOTELLON in Seville until 6 am. AHAHA.
Drinking from my own mini bottle of Champagne (provided by Wellesley) to a Wellesley function outside of Cordoba.
Being bitchy with Christina.
Being told by a (drunken) Spaniard that I was more beautiful than a ray of sunshine.
Dos besos, barbas, and mullets!
Tapas, jamon, tinto de verano, and PAN.
Singing along to Look on the Brighter Side of Life with a bunch of brits.
Being attacked by the peasants with coconuts outside the Palace during the premiere of Spamalot.
Brunch at Shakespeare's Head with the dears.
Ridiculousity at Harrod's and being too chicken to get in line for Father Christmas. As an Asian dating a Jew I just feel uncomfortable.
The opera singer singing Ave Maria in one of the balconies in the Egyptian escalator.
Mission Impossible: Florence
Every single amazing musician in the Tube
The guy on the tube with his friends on night at 12 am, who pulled a butt plug out of his plastic bag and declared that he was going to snort some coke, then roll the butt plug in cocaine and sit on the butt plug when he went home.
Subsequently, after the man got off the tube and flashed his nips to his friends who were still on the train, the obviously gay friend of the man holding his head and saying "honestly I get sick at the thought of him sitting on that."
Midnight cheeseburgers with Amber.
Seeing DCW at a Wellesley alum's mansion.
Drinks and networking at another Wellesley alum's mansion; coveting her rustic kitchen and British kids.
The Gherkin lit up at night.
Ian telling me he would give me a tantra massage with coconut oil. Weee.
Meeting Christina's parents in Spain
Second row seats to Avenue Q!
ARGOS. Oh ARGOS.
Dionysus after clubbing at Vodka Island.
The bus ride back from Ministry of Sound.
Walking around a deserted Covent Garden with Christina and feeling like we owned it.
Stroking Charlie's lovely back.
Tea! Tea with brits! Tea at home! Introducing tea, hobnobs, and penguins to visiting friends!
CLARO QUE SI!
Asking the brits to say "wham bam thank you ma'am" and finding out that yes, it does sound less vulgar with an accent.
Alexandria palace.
Fireworks for Guy Fawkes.
The bucket of candy floss.
WINE TASTINGS AT THE LSE.
Walking down Drury Lane.
Walking past the Chinese restaurant in the middle of the night and hearing the drunken karaoke.
Talking about Cockfoster's and Shepherd's Bush with Alex. Hee.
Christina running away from the pigeon's in Trafalgar Square.
The crazy ass tour around town.
Kicking ass in my management class.
Vintage stores in my neighborhood.
Making fajitas at Holborn.
The children at the Tate.
Lying on the ground staring at the slides.
The slit.
The music on the fourth floor.
Running around the National Portrait gallery.
The people who brought their own viewing chairs.
Desserts at Chinatown.
Overpriced Chinese take out.
I feel like I've already forgotten so much. dagjdgaah.