i'll try to be better. i promise

puddlelilies.com / proofreading negates the immediacy of feeling

  • Unng. I guess I’m in the west end on a Saturday night. No, Covent Garden. It’s kinda awful all these people and fancy restaurants and pubs all full of people and serving nothing I want. I went in one place that looked good but it was waaay too hot.

    So I’m at a place where the proprietor came out to advertise the free starter when getting a main. Almost completely empty, no crowd outside. I had chicken and chips. I’m findimg meat and chips, of all the English food on offer, works well for me. What I’d like is some rice with vegetables. Sushi.

    After supper– I’m hanging out at the royal opera house now. If my seat is too precarious I might just leave. Thus the flexibility of the cheap ticket. I’m not the scuzziest-dressed here, which makes me glad. I wasn’t worried but I wasn’t sure. As usual, once I get to the theare everything is comfortable.

    Moments later. No longer comfortable. Seat is really really high. I can see 1/3 of the stage – more if I lean over the railing. But I’m not going to lean over the railing!!!! OK I just checked. I’m here again Wednesday and where I am in the Upper Slips tonight, on Wed I am in the Lower Slips so not so high.

    Edit: third intermission. I spent the last 52 minutes draped over the rail in front of me, trying to see more. There have been many big jumps. I was thinking of leaving now due to the late hour and me being sleepy, but the last ballet is a Balanchine so I better check it out. Also there are more tutus in this one. I like tutus.

    , ,

  • I’m at the train station in Bath. It’s been school half-term this week so there have been roaming groups of youths wherever I go. Also parents and kids arguing. Special times.

    There are many really old buildings in Bath and if they aren’t actually old, they’ve been made to look old, such as the monstrosity of a shopping centre across from the train station. It’s been given angled streets like the old parts of town, and charming names like ‘new merchant st’ but it’s pure cement.

    ,

  • One thing I like about England so far is that toast just arrives dry. There are little pads or containers of butter at the table to be used at your own discretion, or, in my case, not at all. I also like that my breakfast is included with the cost of accomodation. I also like that it is the Full English breakfast that is served. Back home I call this “Dad’s Breakfast”– bacon and eggs with toast. Sometimes with sausage. Here it also comes with fried half-a-tomato and mushrooms. I approach the tomato with caution. I ignore the mushrooms.

    Itinerery update. I travelled to Winchester via Paddingtom Station instead of Waterloo, taking me through Reading. This isn’t the normal route, but is possible. It’s quicker to go through Waterloo, but the Heathrow Express from the airport goes to Paddington. So there. And I took the Heathrow Ex instead of the tube as planned because I was tired and the Heathrow Ex is easy.

    Today if I planned better I might have seen Stonehenge but I missed all tours leaving Bath due to being at the fashion museum. As it is, I’m not especially bothered: ancient rocks vs. Diana’s dresses. It’s a hard decision.

    Now I’ve found a vegan/veggie restaurant at which to eat and am waiting for dessert to arrive. There is dessert I can eat and so I am having some. That’s right.

    Tomorrow I’ll breakfast in Bath and then wait around a while for the off-peak time arrives for taking the train, and then back to London.

    , , ,

  • I started my trip by re-reading my pretty pink version of Jane Austen’s bio. Good.

    I’ve beem awake now, save for the half-dozen naps-that-don’t-count on the plane, for way too long. Will sleep well, I hope. There’s nothing like being too tired to keep me up.

    ,

  • I used my mum’s greek salad recipe, left out the feta, exchanged basil for thyme and added wagon-wheel pasta.  Lunch!

    My Oyster Card arrived in this morning’s mail.  Mail, by the way, still scares the shit out of me when it arrives, the metal mail slot in my door clanking invasivly whenever anything is shoved through.  I’m not here enough when mail arrives to get used to it.  So I spent my morning writing and making more travel plans.  I don’t have much to to at this point, having spent the first week of September obsessing over all the details.  I want this card in my pocket when I land so that I may get on my way as soon as possible upon landing.  I don’t know how tired I’ll be so I want to be prepared.  Next: train tickets?  Second next: still way to early to start making lists.

    , ,

  • I dreamed last night that I wore knee socks and they slipped down my legs such that I had to pull them up.

    I had my cable TV disconnected. There are several reasons for this. One is that Shaw keeps “dissapearing” channels on me. For example, channel 112 dissapeared in June sometime. I was angry because I had been enjoying the Seinfeld reruns they ran in the late evenings, and Boston Legal on weekends. They moved the channel to digital, which I don’t have, and replaced it with sports, which I don’t like and proptly blocked on my TV.

    The second reason I cut the cable, is because they raised the price of my package again. They’ve done this before, of course, but I thought now that I have two things vexing me in so little time, I might as well do away with it. Also, I don’t want to pay more for “dissapearing” channels. I only had basic, so there wasn’t much left to watch, anyway. And I can watch Coronation St online.

    So there.

    Oh, PS, I still have my cable internet, and I still tether my compuer to it via an actual cable. So there(2).

    , ,

  • I keep forgetting to make bread until it’s too late.  Brown bread needs five hours to cook and I got to bed around 10 lately.  I have to remember before 5 to set up my bread machine.  Maybe I could set the timer so that it cooks overnight, beeping around 6:30.  Only no, it makes disturbing noises while mixing, and would no doubt scare the bejezzus out of me in the midddle of the night.  Not cool, bread machine.  Not cool.

    ,

  • Do you remember when Ramona’s dad went back to school, and he took an art class and one of the assignments was to draw his foot?  And then Ramona thought it would be fun if she drew her foot, as well?

    Here is a picture of my foot.

  • Movie Review: Sylvia starting Gwynnie Paltrow and Daniel Craig.

    I like the name “Sylvia”.  Sylvie.  Sylf.  Sylvia.  Very pretty.  I’m in such a mood where I can imagine naming a girl child such.

    I’m spending this movie thinking why bother.  This is Sylvia Plath.  She’s just going to kill herself.  And really, there’s no excitement to prevent me from thinking that.  And really, my attitude is just like, perhaps, that towards female writers of Sylvia’s time: why bother, she’s just a woman.  Rrrrrrrrrrrrr.  Stupid modernists.

    Really, though, and this is something we’re taught at writing school, writers are boring.  Even if they are played by Gwynnie and Daniel “James Bond” Craig.  See, even now the DVD’s playing over there and here I am writing in my blog.  Hoo!  Now I’m going to shut it off completely, put on some Zeppelin and read my book (Illustrado by Miguel Syjugo.)

  • I’m sitting just shy of the rain, watching the intersection of Blanshard and Pandora. (This is the location of my job). I don’t want to move much further away from this spot because I failed to bring an umbrella with me today and I don’t like to get speckles on my glasses. This was one of the reasons I obtained contacts, however, I am not wearing them today: it’s Monday and I didn’t have time this morning to put them in due to a mild sleep-in.

    I had a dream last night that was inturrupted by the noise that the street painter truck makes. And then I had to get up and see what was going on. I missed the truck but I saw the orange mini-cones that the workers left behind to indicate wet paint. Just as well they were doing this in the middle of the night as today there is wet everything.

    ,