london: the first deluge

*formatting change: turns out you can't publish two separate pages of posts, so I'm consolidating Ramblings and Photography so I won't have to keep all of my pictures in---what the fuck am I doing, no one wants to read this.*

All of the touristy shit, plus some. It was absolutely glorious and I already want to go back.

Spotted: creative reuse at Camden Market

  

being vain in Kate's room

The way too fancy cafe I found myself in and a cute street sign. Side note: clotted cream is scrumptious.

This is Kate. She is great. 

Trafalgar square #1

Trafalgar Square #2

and all the streets looked like this

ubiquitous (the booths and the Pret a Manger)

Being stupid

a more modern bit

St. Paul's. Rather proud of this one.  

wandering along the Thames

wait, is that...?

YES IT IS!

hm.

Tate Modern (could've spent the whole day)
Highlights: Picasso and Kara Walker

Glory.

On left: favorite exhibit (history of clock and watch technology)
On right: Lewis chessmen, awesomesauce that dates back to the 12th century

I suppose I would look uncomfortable too if I had that much pubic hair and it was exposed...

Inserting a story: somewhere in the ancient Greek exhibit, a photographer working for the museum asked me to pose for some brochure photos all-fake-candid-like. Kate, I want a copy of that advertisement if I end up in it.

great guy, delicious chocolates

Bucking the Ham. Being tourists n shit.

K-Roch!

First thought: Swans, how nice!

Second thought: Oooh more!

It was mayhem.

bric-a-brac |ˈbrik ə ˌbrak| noun; miscellaneous small articles collected for their antiquarian, sentimental, decorative, or other interest.

Facts I don't feel obligated to report:

• Every building is beautiful.
• There are obscene numbers of attractive posh young people in London. This fact (Yes, fact. It is obscene.) quickly put to rest my temporary regret that I did not choose to study abroad there, as my self esteem would have lasted about as long as a production of the Book of Mormon by a gay theatre company in Salt Lake City.
• Scotland looks exactly as I had expected it to look, which is to say it is mostly fields of sheep, but the fields themselves are quite lovely, or at least so I thought. While on the train to Edinburgh, I found myself marveling at gently rolling hills of perfect velvety-smooth, brilliantly green grass before realizing that I was looking at a golf course. 

Facts I do feel obligated to report:

• Every backyard I have observed (from train windows) has been identical to the Dursleys' in Harry Potter. I find this to be very satisfying.
• After consulting a number of experts, I now know that it is pronounced “Edin-brra,” not “Edin-burrow” or even “Edin-burra” (two r’s here taken to mean that you roll them just slightly, something I am incapable of doing).

overture

Much to my own surprise, my original idea for this blog was ambitious. Something entertaining but subdued, brilliantly eloquent and dripping with wit, full of bizarre and exciting stories, or even mundane ones made interesting by my insightful remarks on everyday life, reminiscent of David Sedaris memoirs, immediately invoking the sound of Ira Glass's voice, and a number of other things that I won't say for fear of seeming a shameless "hipster." (I put this word in quotes because I think it too broad a category to warrant the kind of scathing/disdainful connotations it often draws from the public, not to defend those with disturbing and perplexing obsessions with facial hair. Gross.)

Realizing that this would never happen was like that time my friend's brother accidentally ran over her kitten with a car: sudden and heartbreaking. So I quickly whittled my expectations down to writing something that would maybe occasionally rival Ben West's travel blog, probably the best thing I've read by someone I know personally. By the time I was done whittling, I was left with the splinter of a hope that my closest friends would read this simply out of concern for my wellbeing. I quickly buried that splinter and accepted that only my mother actually cares that much, or at least, only she will care that much if my future posts end up being this unnecessarily verbose.

In any case, I've justified this inherently masturbatory exercise by laying down a few purposes for its existence and the continued spending of time on it:

- to preserve stories of my travels

- to prevent my writing from going to total shit
- to keep friends/family/any-annoying-fucker-who's-going-to-ask-a-lot-of-generic-and-unoriginal-questions updated on whatever it is I've been doing
- or maybe it's in the hopes that certain individuals (no, not you) will read it

You may have noticed that I have yet to write anything about my actual travels. I noticed that too.