all things go

Year In Significance: 2007

• 17 February: Birthday excursion to Tiswas with Anna, Sarah, and Carla.
• 22 February: First graduate school acceptance letter.
• 21 March: Got into Oxford.
• 2 May: Off to Ireland.
• 16 June: Sang on stage with Brakes.
• 17 August: Said adios to W.W. Norton.
• 18 September: Officially (and literally) traded NYC for LDN.
• 27 November: Babyshambles at Wembley Arena.
• 16 December: Walked along the Thames, touched a stingray at the London Aquarium, kissed my boy in Trafalgar Square.

soundtrack: Chicago - Sufjan Stevens

things i will miss while away

1. £2 pints of Strongbow at ULU on lazy afternoons.
2. Getting an upper-deck, front-row seat on the 24.
3. The Crowley cup of tea.
4. Camden Lock late on weeknights.
5. Touching out of the Tube with feigned disaffection.

soundtrack: Blue Monday - New Order

de nada

Worlds collided and we gave thanks.

soundtrack: Norwegian Wood - The Beatles

this is england

soundtrack: Fields of Athenry - Dropkick Murphys

bonfires

It's strange to think this is my second UK-residential Guy Fawkes Night; the England of 2003 and Oxford seems so alien and far away now, another country entirely. Which is all the more ironic given my current beau, and the unexpected recognition of at least three Oxonians at the Battersea pub on Friday night. The weather has not improved, the class consciousness remains palpable, and the sunsets are still guttingly early, but something about this City of London - a little bigger, a little brighter - is making all the difference.

The days pass on the tops of double-decker buses or in the sharp-angled descents of Tube escalators; frowning at tightly printed pages of Conrad in my room or hastily recording a particularly salient point at the wide wooden seminar table; drinking at the Hawley Arms, drinking at the ULU, drinking at the Lord Stanley; markets under railway trestles, misleading slips of paper, wine-fuzzy kitchen gatherings and standing, skunk-stoked and spinning, on a balcony on Camden Road watching fireworks glitter and explode in the heavy evening sky.

And I wonder, what was I so afraid of?

Happy Guy Fawkes y'all.

soundtrack: Unstookie Titled - Babyshambles

little red riding hood

Earlier this afternoon I went to a screening of Harmony Korine's "Mister Lonely" at the London Film Festival. It was brilliant! Werner Herzog, Samantha Morton, and blue-robed skydiving nuns. I was so impressed with Harmony Korine's capacity for optimism and wonder; hopefully it won't take another eight years for him to make something new. I think it's properly released in March - go see it!

soundtrack: Vertigo - The Libertines

wendigo

As if any day when one begins drinking at 4 PM isn't already great, when I arrived home this evening I had a package from my fellow Sullivan and Wikimaster, Ian. It contained hand soap. Hand soap molded in the shape of amputated baby hands. omg LURVE.

soundtrack: Punk Is Dead - Crass

sunday sunday

A wicked weekend.

Friday: compelling lecture; situationist mission; Senate House success; ULU debauchery.
Saturday: lazy morning; lazy tea powwow up Camden Road; lazy Kentish Town meander; a rugby loss and a missed-train gain.
Sunday: sunny stroll to Mornington Crescent; more tea with added Scrabble; toast and hummus as meal replacement; finally starting on all the reading that was neglected for bigger, better things.

soundtrack: Dear Catastrophe Waitress - Belle & Sebastian

shotter's nation

As if getting my hands on the new Babyshambles album a good three weeks in advance of its U.S. release date wasn't boon enough, last night at the bar at KOKO the bathroom graffiti said: "Team Shambles - Headlox's Corner" (a reference to Johnny Headlock, one of the P-Doh entourage). Clearly the stars are aligning; it's only a matter of time until I run into the man himself!

soundtrack: Phenomena - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

habitat

Now that my room is somewhat decorated and generally inhabited - and because I just made the bed - here's a quick look at my humble Camden Town abode.

This is the aforementioned newly-made and slightly blurry bed. Please note the Yves Saint Laurent sheets c. 1976, inherited from my very tasteful mother.

This is the area where Great Thoughts occur. Can you spot all the P-Dohs in this picture?

The decorative fireplace! Plus shoes, bag, and Adverts 7".

This is the view from my window. I haven't yet been to the Best Camden Cafe but the off-licence has already proven helpful.

Finally the kitchen, complete with washing machine (just behind the table). This is where I drink lots of tea, cook little of nutritional value, and keep an eye on the mini-chavs after school.

soundtrack: Intervention - Arcade Fire

the cut of your j-i-b

I just spent ten minutes, transfixed, watching my clothes spin in my very own washing machine in my very own kitchen. This in some weird way mirrors the ten minutes I spent, transfixed, staring at the unfamiliar detergent brands in Sainsbury's this afternoon.

soundtrack: Campaign of Hate - The Libertines

amy winehouse + me = bff

Kevin: Do you know who that is?
Me: Yes! Isn't she supposed to be in rehab?

stratigraphic

I have been copyediting the various ancillary components for this geology textbook for so long, I just need to look at something else for a minute. I'm grateful for the work, obviously, and yet fully convinced that no matter how many examples of lethal volcanoes and priceless gems one uses, geology is a pretty damn boring subject.

Y'all, I am on my way to having a bank account in pounds sterling. This is getting serious. Furthermore, there was a very large, presumably British spider crawling across my floor earlier. I politely released him into the decidedly British flora beneath the kitchen window.

soundtrack: Decent Days and Nights - The Futureheads

london: day two

So far, so good.

The flat is completely worth the price: really spacious, good location, great water pressure, and hello, a washing machine! I haven't had free laundry since high school. The flatmate, Rita, has been exceptionally hospitable and friendly. I'm not sure how much we'll see of each other once school is in swing - she has two jobs, from 4-8 on weeknights and 9-6 on weekends - but if nothing else, I foresee a peaceful coexistence.

Alas, Pete Doherty has not yet stumbled down my street, but I think he's in rehab in Wiltshire so, you know, there's time. Meanwhile I successfully navigated the bus to and from UCL, enrolled, got my ID (with an inevitably terrible photo), got my Oyster card, revived my mobile phone, and stocked up at Sainsbury's... only to realize Rita doesn't have a can opener... which made me feel like a redneck American raised on bomb shelter leftovers. Although, based on the eerily vast assortment of tinned ham available at the grocery store, I suspect I'm not alone.

soundtrack: We Are The Firm - Cockney Rejects

overture

Don't get excited. There will be no self-pitying whinges, no existential crises, and nothing remotely classifiable as emo in this dark corner of the internet. Expect a travelogue, photos, Pete Doherty anecdotes, amusing points of interest, and the generally miscellaneous contents of my brain.

That's pretty much it.

soundtrack: Sounds Of The City - The Bouncing Souls