Sunday, October 3, 2010

“What’s Cooking, Good Looking?” –Anthony the 45 Year Old Man

So the sun and I got into this really big fight. We had a talk about it and he told me he wanted to go on a brake. Ok fine, I was getting tired of having him around anyways, but why does he still have to go and act like a little tease to get my attention? I woke up on Saturday to find the sun on my face and myself in a very hot room. The thing about London is that they don’t have any sort of ‘central air’ and like the rest of the world outside of the southern United States, don’t believe in ceiling fans. For the most part, why would you need air conditioning in a city that’s almost always cold and rainy? Valid point. But I have been brought up to believe that people must live with air circulation, hence the ceiling fan notion. The only way to achieve moving air is to open the window, which seems a bit two-steps backwards sort of thing when the heater is on because it’s cold outside! But if you leave the heater on by itself, without circulation it just becomes stuffy and unbearable. So I’ve figured out for the room to be a pleasant temperature, the heater must be on for about an hour, and then when it gets hot you open the window and then turn down the heater and close the window and then open the window and then turn up the heater and just kinda play this game of temperature war with yourself over and over till it’s a reasonable temperature. Well when it’s bed time, I close the window and stop playing the game. So when I wake up and there’s sun outside, and the heater on inside, and there’s no sort of air circulation at all, it’s way too hot!

But back to there being sun on a Saturday in London… why on earth would anybody be inside? Take advantage of this rarity! (I know understand why there were sooo many people outside sunbathing our first week in London. Because the sun is never out here!) So I decided it was time to go shopping! Again. This time, I skipped the normal stores I went to all together and tried out something new. Yay, success! I finally found a pair of jeans that fit alright. They weren’t perfect, but they were cheap and I was pretty desperate for some new something to wear on my bottom half since I only came with like 2 pairs of jeans. I also bought a corduroy skirt, a sweater, a tunic, a new purse so I don’t kill my ties and a pair of these oh so cute heels. When I left Oxford Street around 3, it was cold and rainy again outside. So much for that eh, London? I was hoping that it would clear up again later on because I had to go see Shakespeare at the Globe in a few hours, but no such luck. In the meantime, I had some leftover pasta and watched This is England while I dosed in bed with a cup of tea. It stopped raining (briefly) around six. I was supposed to meet Mat outside the Globe at 6:30 even though the show didn’t start till 7:30.

I’m glad we planned to meet up that early because I ended up being half an hour late due to all the tube closures and the extra walking I had to do. But I got there in time! Picked up my ticket for Henry IV and joined the ‘groundlings’ to stand in the pit of the famous Globe Theatre! There were two problems I had with this, only one I had foreseen. One, the pit is seen as a sort of entry and exitry from stage. So when performers walked off, they had to walk right by me. And yes, in the little pre-show before the show, they DO like to mess with the audience a bit. Needless to say every time one of them walked by I scooted very close to Matt who would in turn started laughing hysterically at me trying to avoid the attention of the performers, which only drew them to me more. Secondly, we’re outside. And this is London. Let’s put two and two together, that means RAIN. I knew this. And yet, I wasn’t truly prepared for this. The beginning of the show, the weather was clear even if what was going on stage was not. Then it started doing it’s misting thing, which I was ok with. I put up my hood, told myself this is why I wore my crappy shoes, and continued to try and understand what the hell this play was about. Then it started raining. Screw mist, they were full on droplets. And of course, this is the one time it decides, ‘hey, I wanna do this ALL NIGHT. Not for just like 20 minutes like usual. Sucker!’ So the entire second half of the first half we were standing in the rain. I kept trying to tell myself to enjoy it, but my internal monologue started going like this:

You’re in London! You’re at the freaking Globe! How many people can say that? Come on Devon, just a bit more till half time and then you can go to the bathroom and warm up. Ooo warmth. I wonder what kind of tea they have? Arg, my feet are all wet! This is like the time when we went to the rodeo in Houston. And the water is dripping from my bangs on to my face! Oh god, I bet that means my mascara is running! What does my face look like? Is that why that girl is starring at me? I bet I look like a drippy raccoon. STOP STARRING AT ME. Is it getting colder? This can’t be good, I’m already sick! What if I get pneumonia? Am I going to get pneumonia and DIE? Am I going to die because I was stupid enough to see a play outside in the rain for class? I paid £7 pounds for this, I don’t just want to leave though! Devon, come on, are you going to die for £7, that’s stupid! But you’re in London at the Globe, come on, it’s an experience. That’s not worth dieing for. What are they even saying on stage? What’s going on? I don’t even understand what the stupid play is about!! What are the character’s names? What’s going on? I’m going to dieeeee.

Yup, my mind ladies and gentlemen. So after what seemed, an eternity, the first half ended and I raced to the bathroom to make sure I didn’t look like a drippy raccoon. I actually just looked like I had been dunked in water, but the mascara issue wasn’t too bad all things considered. When I came out of the loo (haha, yeah, I said it!) I ran into Matt who was trying to decide whether or not he wanted to stay. That sold it for me. I told him I was already sick and I didn’t want to die so I was going home and he agreed. So together, the two of us huddled under my umbrella (which previously weren’t allowed inside) and crossed the Millennium bridge to the tube stop. All I kept thinking of was how good a cup of tea would be! And then I thought, damn those Brits and their tea! They’re converting me! But what sounded even better was bread. Hot, warm and soft bread. So on the way home I went to Tescos and grabbed some bread. After I blow dried my hair, got in my TCU sweats, had a cup of tea, some hot bread and placed my lappy with 30 Rock in front of me, it ended up being a good night. Liz Lemon: 1, Shakespeare: 0. Sorry dude, better luck next time.

Today I woke up to the sun again. I played Temperature War while chatting with Mitch from back home and then decided that it was noon, and I should probably get along with my day… after I watch another episode of This Is England that is! So I did! And then attempted to take a shower. I say ‘attempted’ because this dorm sucks! I admit, I have become accustomed to a higher standard of living while at TCU. One in which there are no grumpy, unhelpful and rude guard men at the door after 12 (I know because I used to work that desk!). One in which guests are allowed overnight for as long as possible. One in which you don’t need to swipe in five times before you even get to your dorm room. One in which there aren’t four washing machines for 240 people, 2 of said machines, are broken. And one in which the hot water always works for as long as you want. Here at good ‘ol Westminster, the water heater runs out. And if everyone is trying to take a shower at once, forget it! I thought for sure at 1, who would be taking a shower? Well apparently everyone had the same idea as me because I couldn’t get that thing past lukewarm. I felt like I was back at the Globe, it was awful. I did my best to wash my hair and body and then scrammed! And of course, since I had left the window open and the heater turned way down in one of my ‘make the room cooler’ stages of Temperature Wars, I was freezing!

But life goes on and I felt better once I was clothed. At least I was clean! Now on to get groceries. And so I did, walking to the Waitrose down the street all by myself J And I stalked up on all these goodies! They even had a vegetarian frozen section!! Albeit, it was a very very small section, but nonetheless, they had fake ground beef substitute! So I got excited and thought I’d make vegichili! And ooo, I can even get fritos and have frito pie! (There are only 2 exceptions when I will ever eat Fritos. One is with pickles. Don’t knock it till you try it, it’s sooo good. And the other is with chili.) But guess what? Londoners have not been shown the wonders of turning corn into ‘crisps’ and so there were NO FRITOS! Not even a weird knock-off brand! They have no idea what they’re missing out on! How do they eat pickles? Gah! So I bought myself some BBQ (Texas style, hahaha) crisps to make myself feel better.

I got home and cooked some meals so that I’d have something to take to work or when I got home late from work. There’s something about having a cupboard stocked with at least one row of canned tomatoes that I find comforting. I did make that vegchili! And Naan pizza (take that Sneha!) and some pasta! Alyssa came in to make a PBJ and looked at me like I was crazy. Ok, so I was cooking three things at once, but hey hey now. Go enjoy your crappy little sandwich somewhere else. Anthony came in at one point and creeped me out for a bit, but I guess my cooking just scares him off because he left after asking me what I was making. It's either that, or the fact that I'm a girl. I then remembered that you guys haven’t seen the kitchen yet! So I made you a little guided tour/explanation:

Next on the agenda was laundry. NIGHTMARE. I literally had to wait in the basement for a good 45 min before a washer was free and I could claim it. Did I mention how much Westminster sucks? Our lift is still broken. Yeah, the ‘odd’ one that goes to my floor. So that means I have to walk down the stairs to level 6 to get on the elevator (with my laundry) because to get to the basement, you have to take the elevator. You can’t reach it by the stairs because the stairs stop at the ground level! And also, this elevator is weird and it can’t decide whether it wants to go down or up first. So if you get on the lift, wanting to go down one floor, sometimes you may just have to go up 20 floors before it takes you back down to the ground floor (which the polite-British-elevator-lady calls ‘podium!’ for some unknown reason) and then go down another floor. GAH! This happened to me when I went back to put my laundry in the drier. I was freaking out thinking that someone was going to take my stuff out of the washer so that they could use it. Someone is going to touch my things! My clean things! Ahhhhh! But thankfully, this did not happen. I got there and my clothes were still in the washer. *Phew* crisis avoided.

I called my fam to video chat, but sadly my mom wasn’t home. (Sorry mummsies, it would have been lovely to see you but you didn’t miss out on much. We’ll chat again next week, and you’ve obviously been reading about everything that’s been happening to me here, so no worries. We are keeping in touch. Love you!) After that I went to the 24 hour library to print some school documents and realized, hmm, perhaps I should start on that reading for those classes, eh? So dang, I guess I’ll have to start doing that this week, although, I really have no idea how I’m going to squeeze that in between work and class, but no worries! It will be done! I came back for my video chat with the lovely Adri, but she had a test, so who stepped up but Crunchy! Oh how I’ve missed thee! So I did get to chat with both friend and fam back home today. Yay. Now it’s time for bed, so I shall have to bid thee ado. To you. And you. And you and you and you! Wow, Sound of Music: 1, Shakespeare... well you know.



P.S. Jeni and them booked their Paris trip today. SNEHA WE NEED TO FIGURE THIS OUT NOW! I REFUSE TO MISS PARIS!!! Ok, that is all.


  1. it is oh so reassuring to find multiple spelling mistakes in this post. I was beginning to wonder who you were. we already talked today so I don't have much more to add. and I'd like to clarify that I think you're prettier than "Dr. Cameron" so that's why I was like 'eh' when you were like "oh I don't mind cuz she's pretty'. Oh, speaking of pretty, Dad had a slideshow going on his Ps3 while he was making dinner today and it was a bunch of old pictures of us (ugh) like ya know karate days and bad school stuff and short hair etc. And Eamon was doing a running commentary on the whole thing even after he started seeing the same ones over and over, "that's Ama, and Pop Pop, and Dae Dae, and he's happy, and he's happy, and that's Mommy when you were a baby and that's Eamon when I was little, I a baby... " you get the point. Anyway he saw a hella old one of you and said, "that's Dae Dae, he's pretty like you Mommy". hahaha! so, you look like a pretty man, like me. lol. jk. you know he never uses he/she correctly. so he thinks we're pretty. enjoy this brief time.

    btw, buy a freakin' standing fan or something. you really are going to catch a pneumonia and die if you're playing temperature war all the time in rainy London with wet hair and no amount of "magic Boots Medication" or yummy flavoured cough drops will be able to save you. And that will upset Mom and just put a damper on the upcoming holidays. Speaking of holidays I am still amazed at the lack of Thanksgiving. Are you going to through a Thanksgiving party for your uneducated Londonites? Very EatPrayLove. Ok whatever I need to go shower cuz who just did an hour and a half of P90x yoga? that's right!

  2. So I just had to drop a line or two since I'm uber excited to be stalking you today!

    first- I'm completely jealous of your red cabinet kitchen! (not to mention that you're in a foreign country without me) though I'm not sure all those switches and I would get along. I'd probably end up being one of those prepackaged meal people...

    second- THE GLOBE! Devon! THE GLOBE! you go!

    third-where are my fish pictures? sadly i cannot remember his name, but aren't there cute little outfits to go with the cutest sock-animal I've ever seen? or am I misremembering? I've been known to do this.

    lastly- I LOVE your British lingo. lifts, tubes and loos!!

    O, and for Monica- would the British enjoy Thanksgiving? Wasn't that kind of all about celebrating how everyone got away from England? And, while we're pointing out grammar: it's throw, not through :)

    Love you/miss you!!

  3. I very much enjoyed your kitchen tour! Well, more your commentary. Especially on your food. It does look like you since you cook. Can't say I'm surprised that your housemates aren't. It's quite a valuable skill you have. I brag on your bruschetta! Haha thought of that a few days ago when I went out for Italian. Miss you!

  4. Naan pizza stilll sounds gross... Pita pizza is amazing though. : )