Week 4 in London... can it be?
It's true! I celebrated my one month anniversary with London this weekend.
However, the last week was filled with all sorts of odd happenings, some of which might be interested to the people who are reading this blog, and so, I will recount them for you. Sit down, faithful reader, for the stories you are about to hear...
Well they're not that good actually. But I'm not terribly concise, so you might as well take a load off.
Monday was unremarkable. I went for a run down by Old Street, dodging pedestrians, sprinting across crosswalks, and running up two of the biggest hills I've ever ran. My Arabic teacher said I spoke Arabic like I was from Northern Oregon. Hmph. I'm trying. He also had a minor meltdown, slightly terrifying the whole class and subduing us to good behavior for the rest of the hour.
Tuesday, I went to yoga, which I was quite excited for because it was free and because I miss yoga. As soon as we entered the room, we noticed an odd smell in the room. We tried to open the window, and the teacher entered and successfully yanked it open. He was American, slightly spacey, had studied medicine at "the Western university" and then studied Ayuverdic medicine at an Indian university. Among the useful notions he had learned there was that you wake up and you're tired due to calcium gathering in your throat. Really now? Oh, and also, he smelled. When I say smelled, it was RANK. It was similar to what I imagine you'd smell like after practicing yoga 4 hours a day, everyday, for a week, without showering or changing clothes. As he urged us to breathe through our noses, I fought the urge to throw up on the yoga mat. If there's one thing you learn at SOAS, it's that there's ALWAYS a smelly guy. Always.
Wednesday, I worked at the bar for 5.5 hours. This would have been just another shift, had it not been for the philosophical British postgrads who talked to me for the best part of a half hour. At first, we talked a little politics, and about recent books that had come out, very standard stuff. Then, out of the blue, one of them asked me, "Are you ginger all over?" I, aghast, and believing this was the sort of line that people joked about saying, but didn't actually say, sputtered, "You're very rude!' and busied myself putting away glasses for the rest of the shift. The most interesting part of this is the reaction from friends. My male friends say, "AHAHA that's awesome!" And my female friends are as taken aback as me. In hindsight, I guess it is kind of funny. Even in my shock, I thought it was kind of funny though. College has desensitized me, I suppose.
Thursday, I went to a different yoga class, which was really good, but too beginner for me.
Friday, I met my partners for my seminar group, and went for a walk in Regent's Park because it was beautiful. I also walked past the London Central Mosque and heard the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer, and then singing inside. I then walked through Marylebone, went to a pastry shop to get a jam cookie, then promptly managed to get powdered sugar all over my black shirt whilst smiling at a cute British guy. I then looked down, noticed the white sugar absolutely covering me, realized why he was looking at me, and scooted across the crosswalk. Typical.
That night, London kicked us in the rear as we attempted to go out. I think the way I described it to Rori captures it best:
"All we wanted to do was go out and drink, and everywhere wanted ridiculous covers, or the people we were with wanted to go to gay bars, or the people we were with were lame and wanted to go get ice cream, or they were lame and wanted to drink straight gin down by the river."
On the plus side, I got carded for being 18 on Saturday. Being carded for 18 - what a laugh!
Sunday, I finally went grocery shopping after the German girls looked at my kitchen cabinet and said I wasn't allowed to live on whole wheat pasta alone. And so, another week in London comes to an end. May the next weekend go better!
Cheers!
-S
However, the last week was filled with all sorts of odd happenings, some of which might be interested to the people who are reading this blog, and so, I will recount them for you. Sit down, faithful reader, for the stories you are about to hear...
Well they're not that good actually. But I'm not terribly concise, so you might as well take a load off.
Monday was unremarkable. I went for a run down by Old Street, dodging pedestrians, sprinting across crosswalks, and running up two of the biggest hills I've ever ran. My Arabic teacher said I spoke Arabic like I was from Northern Oregon. Hmph. I'm trying. He also had a minor meltdown, slightly terrifying the whole class and subduing us to good behavior for the rest of the hour.
Tuesday, I went to yoga, which I was quite excited for because it was free and because I miss yoga. As soon as we entered the room, we noticed an odd smell in the room. We tried to open the window, and the teacher entered and successfully yanked it open. He was American, slightly spacey, had studied medicine at "the Western university" and then studied Ayuverdic medicine at an Indian university. Among the useful notions he had learned there was that you wake up and you're tired due to calcium gathering in your throat. Really now? Oh, and also, he smelled. When I say smelled, it was RANK. It was similar to what I imagine you'd smell like after practicing yoga 4 hours a day, everyday, for a week, without showering or changing clothes. As he urged us to breathe through our noses, I fought the urge to throw up on the yoga mat. If there's one thing you learn at SOAS, it's that there's ALWAYS a smelly guy. Always.
Wednesday, I worked at the bar for 5.5 hours. This would have been just another shift, had it not been for the philosophical British postgrads who talked to me for the best part of a half hour. At first, we talked a little politics, and about recent books that had come out, very standard stuff. Then, out of the blue, one of them asked me, "Are you ginger all over?" I, aghast, and believing this was the sort of line that people joked about saying, but didn't actually say, sputtered, "You're very rude!' and busied myself putting away glasses for the rest of the shift. The most interesting part of this is the reaction from friends. My male friends say, "AHAHA that's awesome!" And my female friends are as taken aback as me. In hindsight, I guess it is kind of funny. Even in my shock, I thought it was kind of funny though. College has desensitized me, I suppose.
Thursday, I went to a different yoga class, which was really good, but too beginner for me.
Friday, I met my partners for my seminar group, and went for a walk in Regent's Park because it was beautiful. I also walked past the London Central Mosque and heard the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer, and then singing inside. I then walked through Marylebone, went to a pastry shop to get a jam cookie, then promptly managed to get powdered sugar all over my black shirt whilst smiling at a cute British guy. I then looked down, noticed the white sugar absolutely covering me, realized why he was looking at me, and scooted across the crosswalk. Typical.
That night, London kicked us in the rear as we attempted to go out. I think the way I described it to Rori captures it best:
"All we wanted to do was go out and drink, and everywhere wanted ridiculous covers, or the people we were with wanted to go to gay bars, or the people we were with were lame and wanted to go get ice cream, or they were lame and wanted to drink straight gin down by the river."
On the plus side, I got carded for being 18 on Saturday. Being carded for 18 - what a laugh!
Sunday, I finally went grocery shopping after the German girls looked at my kitchen cabinet and said I wasn't allowed to live on whole wheat pasta alone. And so, another week in London comes to an end. May the next weekend go better!
Cheers!
-S
posted by shannon at 8:25 PM
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