MAY, 2022
A Tally of Whereabout ABBA has Made a Much Welcomed Appearance
May 11, 2022
- Nordic Bar (Feb 5)
- 35 Gower Street (often)
- Heaven Nightclub (Feb 12)
- Central Station Karaoke (often)
- Morrison's II, Budapest Szent István (March 11)
- Button Factory Nightclub, Dublin (March 20) *Swedish version
- Changing of the Guards, Buckingham Palace (April 2) *played by the British Guards
- Passing car Gylfada, Greece (April 19)
- Simmons Bar, Euston, London (May 3)
- 35 Gower Street (often)
- Heaven Nightclub (Feb 12)
- Central Station Karaoke (often)
- Morrison's II, Budapest Szent István (March 11)
- Button Factory Nightclub, Dublin (March 20) *Swedish version
- Changing of the Guards, Buckingham Palace (April 2) *played by the British Guards
- Passing car Gylfada, Greece (April 19)
- Simmons Bar, Euston, London (May 3)
APRIL, 2022
Sitting in St. James's Park
April 23, 2022
- Crowds of people with nuts and fruit feeding the pigeons and parakeets
- Crowds of people feeding birds crowded around the “don’t feed the birds, bird flu” signs surrounding the park by order of the Royal Parks
- Rainbow sweater
- Cartoon tote bag
- Children with ice cream cones, soft-serve bigger than their faces
- Women with leather jackets hung around their arms
- Small dogs in teams of two
- “Why didn’t get I invited to dinner with Ella?” he said
- Different ‘he’ is trying to grab her hand, but she’s pulling away
- Couples in their fifties
- Now she’s holding both ice cream cones, taking turns biting each
- Couples finely dressed, aged 70 or above
- Large cameras around many necks
- Shaking glorious, mighty leaves off their jackets
- Cigarettes and lipsticks
- Crowds of people feeding birds crowded around the “don’t feed the birds, bird flu” signs surrounding the park by order of the Royal Parks
- Rainbow sweater
- Cartoon tote bag
- Children with ice cream cones, soft-serve bigger than their faces
- Women with leather jackets hung around their arms
- Small dogs in teams of two
- “Why didn’t get I invited to dinner with Ella?” he said
- Different ‘he’ is trying to grab her hand, but she’s pulling away
- Couples in their fifties
- Now she’s holding both ice cream cones, taking turns biting each
- Couples finely dressed, aged 70 or above
- Large cameras around many necks
- Shaking glorious, mighty leaves off their jackets
- Cigarettes and lipsticks
She's Like the Wind
April 7, 2022
The wind was so heavy it blew my grandmother away. I’ll have to do my best convincing because it happened moments before I met the Raimi’s but the shock and worry across their faces could only mean that the following event did in fact happen; Nay Nay, airborne, had both of her size 5 feet off the ground, out of her control might I add. My mother gasped and had to use strength to pull Nay Nay down. Of course, the large fright then resulted in hysterical laughter.
Capture the Flag in Regent's Park
April 1, 2022
On April 1, 2022, at 5:19 pm, in the outer circle of Regent’s Park, London, UK, the greatest event in sports history took place; Gower Gang capture the flag.
Team Red, led by senior, Boogie, had spent the entire morning filling water balloons in 40˚F winds amongst London’s second snowy weather of the semester. The previous minute long snowstorm occurred earlier in the week. With Captain Boogie on the hose, a large majority of Red numbed their fingers tying up the water-boarded plastic. After working through 80 balloons, (some dropped and popped), every teammate outside was at risk of frostbite.
Meanwhile, Team Blue was going through their own kerfuffle as Captain Olivia Jacobson deemed it too cold and unhealthy to play a water-based game outside, especially considering eleven out of eighteen Gower Gang residents had just finished isolation after testing positive for the coronavirus. Therefore, Madison Mathias, Olivia’s second in command, stepped in and took place as Blue’s captain. The teams then became:
Red: Boogie (C), Chopan, Ashlyn, Abby, Susan, Lily, Kate, Amelia, Sage
Blue: Madison (C), Bobo, Briana, Anna, Maria, Pigeon, Paula, Audrey, Karly
Meanwhile, neutral members, William Brown and Jlana von Rohr reported on the entire event.
As commonly predicted, Blue used Captain Madison’s tree climbing expertise to their advantage by hiding their flag on the middle branch of a tree in the center of their base, approximately 15 feet off the ground.
Red took the opposite approach and hid their flag on the ground, camouflaged with a large log and scattered leaves.
The canon shot and the first round began.
While the team members positioned to guard their team’s flag (a Viking helmet provided by local sponsor, Nordic Bar), remained at their bases, the runners crept to the center of the field for a very slow start.
Water balloons in hand and the players began throwing. As one individual can only carry so many plastic sacks enlarged with liquid, there was a center pile of 10 balloons, 5 from each team, for any player to claim.
Eventually, every runner found themselves without ammunition. Players either retreated to base and acquired more weapons or seized the opportunity to interlude the opposing base and capture the flag.
As strategies pursued and balloons popped and splattered on fabrics wounding players, the jail cells began to crowd, especially with Red’s team. That is, until their sneak attack commenced:
Chopan, the team’s oldest player, had been noticeably absent during the chaos. Once the field cleared slightly, he ran out from the tree he was hiding in. Going rogue throwing balloons at anyone or anything in his path as he made his way sprinting towards Blue’s base and steal their still unlocated flag. On the opposite side of the field, members of the Blue team too rustled every branch and flipped over every rock to locate Red’s flag.
Back to Blue’s base, silently running balloon in hand behind Red’s weapon, Chopan, was Blue’s eldest, Maria. While she was not successful in hitting her locked target, Anna, who had been strapped and ready to fight and protect the flag, was hiding with blue war paint on her cheeks under the trees where she had eyes on the whole field of who was still in and who was coming to attack. She popped the balloon on Chopan’s back leg. Red Team was out and Round 1 was over. Yet, the location of both flags was still a mystery.
Round 2 brought new rules to the table. For example, rather than getting hit and splashed resulting in permanent removal, a team member still in the game untouched was allotted one person to tag out of jail. Furthermore, because the battle had become a scavenger hunt with the unfound flags, each team was now allowed one team member whose sole purpose was to search. They were given a pass to rummage around the enemies’ base unbothered to simplify victory at an equal advantage. With that being stated, as soon as the helmet flag was in possession of the “looker,” a target was once again placed upon their backs for free reign to go in for the kill. However, they could have spotted the flag and gone back to alert their team of the location, while still maintaining the right to not be pegged since the flag had not yet technically entered their possession.
Unsurprisingly, the chosen lookers for both Red and Blue were the captains as it were, nominated by their respective teams. Blue’s protector Anna and Red’s protector Ashlyn kept close eyes on the imposing captains, waiting for them to lay a finger on the flag so they could strike.
Once again, the canons went off and the war began. The captains, now with a second title, ran to venture their untampered hunt.
Tagging teammates in and out became a large part of Round 2, and Blue certainly used it to their advantage. Those trapped together made a sworn pact to come back and rescue each other after their freedom. It worked because they kept their promises.
Meanwhile, Red held a disadvantage by spoiling the surprise of their secret weapon, a professor in a tree, prematurely. He was indeed hidden but found upon first glance.
Eventually, Boogie looked up and noticed the glistening murky grey Viking helmet. However, the flag was too high up to simply “grab” even for the 6’5 captain. While he shifted gears to look for a rather large stick long enough to knock the flag out of the branches. Blue guards kept a close eye, ready with balloons to pounce and pelt.
Down the field rummaging through wet piles of wilted leaves and sticky grass, Madison found her hands on Red’s flag. She grabbed and ran without so much as a rubber neck looking back. Following the sprinting Blue captain was Ashlyn strapped with ammunition, waiting for the perfect millisecond to launch, Bobo ready to illegally tackle Ashlyn in case she got close enough to Madison and jeopardize Blue’s victory, and Chopan, psychotically throwing balloons in hopes of one popping in the one spot that would ideally rescue the flag. With the realization that it was too late, he instead pegged Karly in the back. Blue won, victoriously.
Round 3. The final round. Both flags had now been spotted so new hiding places were sought out, though this caused controversy later. The rules from the second round remained intact so only the locations of the flags altered. Red’s captain Boogie watched like a hawk as Blue’s captain, Madison, climbed higher in their original hiding tree to make the flag unreachable. Maria, however, noticed spying Boogie and suggested using the current scene as a decoy while Bobo took the Viking helmet and stuffed deep within the outer hedges of the base, though still very much in the park. Red followed similarly in Blue’s original plan of hiding the flag disguised out of reach in tall tree branches.
Just like the previous beginnings, the game begun, and every player designated by their captains to do so, ran to the center only to stop in fear at the sight of opponents.
This round, however, was particularly interesting because although it was expected, nobody knew how to protect and serve their flag once the supply of water balloons was scarce. There was a “no physical contact” rule implemented, which took out the possibility of tagging anyone out, or into jail. Individuals who held onto balloons gripped them tight, waiting to use them for defense, as in, once their flag was robbed. Until then, all anyone could do was look.
After what felt like a long time, Blue members looked up and saw the soon to set sun deflecting off Red’s helmet way up in the trees. Captain Madison climbed while Chopan and Ashlyn readily pointed their balloons, knowing that as soon as she made contact with the plastic, her forcefield of the “looker” title would be lifted and she could be pegged out. Slyly, she knocked it out of the tree using surrounding branches to uphold her “can’t touch this” mystique and jumped down to grab and run whilst dodging the balloons being heaved at her. Just before leaving the base once again victorious, she fell. Behind her was her teammate, Karly, who she latteraled the flag to and she sprinted to the base, ending the day with blue having 3 wins.
The controversy came when Blue pulled out their flag and Red accused cheating for hiding it outside of the base borders. So maybe they only had 1 ‘clean’ win after all.
Good game Gower Gang, Good game.
Team Red, led by senior, Boogie, had spent the entire morning filling water balloons in 40˚F winds amongst London’s second snowy weather of the semester. The previous minute long snowstorm occurred earlier in the week. With Captain Boogie on the hose, a large majority of Red numbed their fingers tying up the water-boarded plastic. After working through 80 balloons, (some dropped and popped), every teammate outside was at risk of frostbite.
Meanwhile, Team Blue was going through their own kerfuffle as Captain Olivia Jacobson deemed it too cold and unhealthy to play a water-based game outside, especially considering eleven out of eighteen Gower Gang residents had just finished isolation after testing positive for the coronavirus. Therefore, Madison Mathias, Olivia’s second in command, stepped in and took place as Blue’s captain. The teams then became:
Red: Boogie (C), Chopan, Ashlyn, Abby, Susan, Lily, Kate, Amelia, Sage
Blue: Madison (C), Bobo, Briana, Anna, Maria, Pigeon, Paula, Audrey, Karly
Meanwhile, neutral members, William Brown and Jlana von Rohr reported on the entire event.
As commonly predicted, Blue used Captain Madison’s tree climbing expertise to their advantage by hiding their flag on the middle branch of a tree in the center of their base, approximately 15 feet off the ground.
Red took the opposite approach and hid their flag on the ground, camouflaged with a large log and scattered leaves.
The canon shot and the first round began.
While the team members positioned to guard their team’s flag (a Viking helmet provided by local sponsor, Nordic Bar), remained at their bases, the runners crept to the center of the field for a very slow start.
Water balloons in hand and the players began throwing. As one individual can only carry so many plastic sacks enlarged with liquid, there was a center pile of 10 balloons, 5 from each team, for any player to claim.
Eventually, every runner found themselves without ammunition. Players either retreated to base and acquired more weapons or seized the opportunity to interlude the opposing base and capture the flag.
As strategies pursued and balloons popped and splattered on fabrics wounding players, the jail cells began to crowd, especially with Red’s team. That is, until their sneak attack commenced:
Chopan, the team’s oldest player, had been noticeably absent during the chaos. Once the field cleared slightly, he ran out from the tree he was hiding in. Going rogue throwing balloons at anyone or anything in his path as he made his way sprinting towards Blue’s base and steal their still unlocated flag. On the opposite side of the field, members of the Blue team too rustled every branch and flipped over every rock to locate Red’s flag.
Back to Blue’s base, silently running balloon in hand behind Red’s weapon, Chopan, was Blue’s eldest, Maria. While she was not successful in hitting her locked target, Anna, who had been strapped and ready to fight and protect the flag, was hiding with blue war paint on her cheeks under the trees where she had eyes on the whole field of who was still in and who was coming to attack. She popped the balloon on Chopan’s back leg. Red Team was out and Round 1 was over. Yet, the location of both flags was still a mystery.
Round 2 brought new rules to the table. For example, rather than getting hit and splashed resulting in permanent removal, a team member still in the game untouched was allotted one person to tag out of jail. Furthermore, because the battle had become a scavenger hunt with the unfound flags, each team was now allowed one team member whose sole purpose was to search. They were given a pass to rummage around the enemies’ base unbothered to simplify victory at an equal advantage. With that being stated, as soon as the helmet flag was in possession of the “looker,” a target was once again placed upon their backs for free reign to go in for the kill. However, they could have spotted the flag and gone back to alert their team of the location, while still maintaining the right to not be pegged since the flag had not yet technically entered their possession.
Unsurprisingly, the chosen lookers for both Red and Blue were the captains as it were, nominated by their respective teams. Blue’s protector Anna and Red’s protector Ashlyn kept close eyes on the imposing captains, waiting for them to lay a finger on the flag so they could strike.
Once again, the canons went off and the war began. The captains, now with a second title, ran to venture their untampered hunt.
Tagging teammates in and out became a large part of Round 2, and Blue certainly used it to their advantage. Those trapped together made a sworn pact to come back and rescue each other after their freedom. It worked because they kept their promises.
Meanwhile, Red held a disadvantage by spoiling the surprise of their secret weapon, a professor in a tree, prematurely. He was indeed hidden but found upon first glance.
Eventually, Boogie looked up and noticed the glistening murky grey Viking helmet. However, the flag was too high up to simply “grab” even for the 6’5 captain. While he shifted gears to look for a rather large stick long enough to knock the flag out of the branches. Blue guards kept a close eye, ready with balloons to pounce and pelt.
Down the field rummaging through wet piles of wilted leaves and sticky grass, Madison found her hands on Red’s flag. She grabbed and ran without so much as a rubber neck looking back. Following the sprinting Blue captain was Ashlyn strapped with ammunition, waiting for the perfect millisecond to launch, Bobo ready to illegally tackle Ashlyn in case she got close enough to Madison and jeopardize Blue’s victory, and Chopan, psychotically throwing balloons in hopes of one popping in the one spot that would ideally rescue the flag. With the realization that it was too late, he instead pegged Karly in the back. Blue won, victoriously.
Round 3. The final round. Both flags had now been spotted so new hiding places were sought out, though this caused controversy later. The rules from the second round remained intact so only the locations of the flags altered. Red’s captain Boogie watched like a hawk as Blue’s captain, Madison, climbed higher in their original hiding tree to make the flag unreachable. Maria, however, noticed spying Boogie and suggested using the current scene as a decoy while Bobo took the Viking helmet and stuffed deep within the outer hedges of the base, though still very much in the park. Red followed similarly in Blue’s original plan of hiding the flag disguised out of reach in tall tree branches.
Just like the previous beginnings, the game begun, and every player designated by their captains to do so, ran to the center only to stop in fear at the sight of opponents.
This round, however, was particularly interesting because although it was expected, nobody knew how to protect and serve their flag once the supply of water balloons was scarce. There was a “no physical contact” rule implemented, which took out the possibility of tagging anyone out, or into jail. Individuals who held onto balloons gripped them tight, waiting to use them for defense, as in, once their flag was robbed. Until then, all anyone could do was look.
After what felt like a long time, Blue members looked up and saw the soon to set sun deflecting off Red’s helmet way up in the trees. Captain Madison climbed while Chopan and Ashlyn readily pointed their balloons, knowing that as soon as she made contact with the plastic, her forcefield of the “looker” title would be lifted and she could be pegged out. Slyly, she knocked it out of the tree using surrounding branches to uphold her “can’t touch this” mystique and jumped down to grab and run whilst dodging the balloons being heaved at her. Just before leaving the base once again victorious, she fell. Behind her was her teammate, Karly, who she latteraled the flag to and she sprinted to the base, ending the day with blue having 3 wins.
The controversy came when Blue pulled out their flag and Red accused cheating for hiding it outside of the base borders. So maybe they only had 1 ‘clean’ win after all.
Good game Gower Gang, Good game.
MARCH, 2022
Places to Bring my Shopping Addicted, Coffee Snob, Chakra Balancing, Theatrical Critic. High Maintenance, Fashionable, Cooler than Most, Gluten-free Mother when she comes to visit (with her sister, niece, and mother) on 6 April
March 30, 2022
Shopping Obsessed: *fashionable comes into play here*- Brick Lane (primarily clothing but would be great on a Sunday for lunch)
- Camden Town (clothing & piercings)
- Top floor of Alfie’s Antique Market (only if we have time, for it’s a rather large market with only one small section that I presume will interest my mother)
- Notting Hill
- Covent Garden (Monday would be best)
- Spitalfields (around the corner from Brick Lane)
Coffee Snob: *There’s a 78% chance that even though she’s only to be here for 6 days, she’ll bring her own coffee*- Camellia’s Tea House
- Borough Market
- Black Sheep (only for when on the go)
Chakra Balancing- Glastonbury (will have to take a train from Paddington)
Theatrical Critic- The Park Theatre (underground experimental theatre)
- She’ll probably find her own West End shows
- Shakespeare’s Globe
High Maintenance- Hyde Park (will not be feeding birds with her)
- Tower of London
- Tate Modern Museum
- British Museum
- Victoria & Albert Museum
- M Restaurant
- Planet Organic
- Soak Restaurant
- Camden Town (clothing & piercings)
- Top floor of Alfie’s Antique Market (only if we have time, for it’s a rather large market with only one small section that I presume will interest my mother)
- Notting Hill
- Covent Garden (Monday would be best)
- Spitalfields (around the corner from Brick Lane)
Coffee Snob: *There’s a 78% chance that even though she’s only to be here for 6 days, she’ll bring her own coffee*- Camellia’s Tea House
- Borough Market
- Black Sheep (only for when on the go)
Chakra Balancing- Glastonbury (will have to take a train from Paddington)
Theatrical Critic- The Park Theatre (underground experimental theatre)
- She’ll probably find her own West End shows
- Shakespeare’s Globe
High Maintenance- Hyde Park (will not be feeding birds with her)
- Tower of London
- Tate Modern Museum
- British Museum
- Victoria & Albert Museum
- M Restaurant
- Planet Organic
- Soak Restaurant
Sitting in Gordon Square Park
March 23, 2022
- Lots of large student circles
- “Americano” ice cream truck cruising between the two entrances/exits
- Variety of bags; totes, backpacks, purses, netted, mesh, handmade
- Grass! Grass legs, grass shoes, grass hands
- Lovers holding hands, on dates, kissing, smiling
- Woman under the trees with her hands up to the branches and an open pale grey cup of I don’t know what but she was taking things out of the cup and sprinkling over the branches. Feeding them?
- Couples who don’t know they’re lovers yet- Lovers who won’t admit it
- Lonely people rolling cigarettes, pretending they’re waiting on others
- Content loners reading
- Instruments zipped in cases
- Music waiting to be played
- I’m in the mood for love.
- “Americano” ice cream truck cruising between the two entrances/exits
- Variety of bags; totes, backpacks, purses, netted, mesh, handmade
- Grass! Grass legs, grass shoes, grass hands
- Lovers holding hands, on dates, kissing, smiling
- Woman under the trees with her hands up to the branches and an open pale grey cup of I don’t know what but she was taking things out of the cup and sprinkling over the branches. Feeding them?
- Couples who don’t know they’re lovers yet- Lovers who won’t admit it
- Lonely people rolling cigarettes, pretending they’re waiting on others
- Content loners reading
- Instruments zipped in cases
- Music waiting to be played
- I’m in the mood for love.
Epic rap song I wrote while zoned out in Literature Class
March 10, 2022
*must only be read to a beatbox background*
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Doors off the hinges,
They’re dusting off their fringes
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Clarissa’s in her room,
Glad her friend is in a tomb (it’s a)
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Now it's getting kind of sinister
Is that the Prime Minister?
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Petey Walsh is longing
For the host whose thoughts are fawning
About Sally, who’s not Richard but
That kiss still gives her heart song (and it’s a)
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Cooks are in the kitchen
Hoping Richard won’t be bitchin’ (cause the)
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Reiza’s off in the parks, thinking London is a bore
While her husband’s mind is trapped in the First World War
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
If Clarissa hadn’t made her own floral transaction
She never would’ve heard that car back firin’
Causing passers-by to stop and stare
Including Septimus Smith who was also there (Smith)
And this was just before the garden when Reiza felt alone
But Smith’s suffering PTSD girl sense the tone (at the)
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Back in the night with Clarissa’s shiny great hair
Peter drooling at her beauty thinking that it’s unfair
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Doors off the hinges,
They’re dusting off their fringes
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Clarissa’s in her room,
Glad her friend is in a tomb (it’s a)
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Now it's getting kind of sinister
Is that the Prime Minister?
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Petey Walsh is longing
For the host whose thoughts are fawning
About Sally, who’s not Richard but
That kiss still gives her heart song (and it’s a)
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Cooks are in the kitchen
Hoping Richard won’t be bitchin’ (cause the)
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Reiza’s off in the parks, thinking London is a bore
While her husband’s mind is trapped in the First World War
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
If Clarissa hadn’t made her own floral transaction
She never would’ve heard that car back firin’
Causing passers-by to stop and stare
Including Septimus Smith who was also there (Smith)
And this was just before the garden when Reiza felt alone
But Smith’s suffering PTSD girl sense the tone (at the)
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
Back in the night with Clarissa’s shiny great hair
Peter drooling at her beauty thinking that it’s unfair
PARTY AT THE WOOLFS
An Apology Letter for My Falsities
March 1, 2022
Dear Mr. A,
I apologize for forgetting your name after asking it twice, but alas, here we stand unaware of each other's titles.
Now that we have settled this, I would like to make a second apology for lying to your elegant glasses and genuine care for students to experience a wonderful exhibit that, let us be honest, is otherwise a scam.
First off, when you asked how long our stay in London was to be, and I replied with “two weeks,” this was a lie intended to gain your pity. The unfortunate outcome was that it worked. When the pouting and grievance alluding to my fib about how long our residency in London is and will be, your guard was lowered. The absolute and hard truth is that we will be here for exactly two months and twelve days, precisely 73 days, and did have the time to book tickets in advance for the Van Gough exhibit.
Once you appeared almost remorseful for the museum’s crime of charging extra to see portraits of the deceased, I too felt remorse for making you feel and reflect as such. Especially once you claimed, and this was sweet whether or not you were telling the truth (though I believe you were), that were you working the entrance to the exhibit you would have let us enter in secrecy. However, it would be too obvious at your posted exit position. This, of course, was understood.
When I continued to push our untruth, it was mainly because the woman checking tickets at the entrance was not as generously feeling sorrow and compassion aroused by our tales, but rather dismissed us as if we were nothing. Because of this and fundamentally this, our false statements continued.
I would like you to perceive our perspective once you shared your favorite portrait; the darker shaded Van Gough wearing a hat. Your knowledge was fascinating and your passion followed suit.
Thank you, Mr. A, and I am sorry for lying.
However, you inspired us to actually ask about the museum’s cancellations (as opposed to lying about it), and Abby and I, therefore, paid the £6 to enter the exhibition. Finally.
The portrait you discussed was breathtaking. My personal favorite was the only painting with his ear bandaged, or, his only piece with a real background as opposed to his solid environments that complement his vibrant expressions. I never believed myself to care for paintings and was only trying to help a friend, yet I emerged conspicuously misplaced in front of a buried man and both affection and somehow a warm zeal befell upon me.
You had long departed before this experience, but, thank you greatly, Mr. A.
Wholeheartedly,
Georgia Bobo, who is now a fan of Van Gough.
I apologize for forgetting your name after asking it twice, but alas, here we stand unaware of each other's titles.
Now that we have settled this, I would like to make a second apology for lying to your elegant glasses and genuine care for students to experience a wonderful exhibit that, let us be honest, is otherwise a scam.
First off, when you asked how long our stay in London was to be, and I replied with “two weeks,” this was a lie intended to gain your pity. The unfortunate outcome was that it worked. When the pouting and grievance alluding to my fib about how long our residency in London is and will be, your guard was lowered. The absolute and hard truth is that we will be here for exactly two months and twelve days, precisely 73 days, and did have the time to book tickets in advance for the Van Gough exhibit.
Once you appeared almost remorseful for the museum’s crime of charging extra to see portraits of the deceased, I too felt remorse for making you feel and reflect as such. Especially once you claimed, and this was sweet whether or not you were telling the truth (though I believe you were), that were you working the entrance to the exhibit you would have let us enter in secrecy. However, it would be too obvious at your posted exit position. This, of course, was understood.
When I continued to push our untruth, it was mainly because the woman checking tickets at the entrance was not as generously feeling sorrow and compassion aroused by our tales, but rather dismissed us as if we were nothing. Because of this and fundamentally this, our false statements continued.
I would like you to perceive our perspective once you shared your favorite portrait; the darker shaded Van Gough wearing a hat. Your knowledge was fascinating and your passion followed suit.
Thank you, Mr. A, and I am sorry for lying.
However, you inspired us to actually ask about the museum’s cancellations (as opposed to lying about it), and Abby and I, therefore, paid the £6 to enter the exhibition. Finally.
The portrait you discussed was breathtaking. My personal favorite was the only painting with his ear bandaged, or, his only piece with a real background as opposed to his solid environments that complement his vibrant expressions. I never believed myself to care for paintings and was only trying to help a friend, yet I emerged conspicuously misplaced in front of a buried man and both affection and somehow a warm zeal befell upon me.
You had long departed before this experience, but, thank you greatly, Mr. A.
Wholeheartedly,
Georgia Bobo, who is now a fan of Van Gough.
FEBRUARY, 2022
Fashion Interview #1
February 17, 2022
LINDA BEE, OWNER OF LINDA BEE VINTAGE JEWELLERY & FASHION
AGE: 75
Linda learned fashion skills and developed a knowledge of the industry when she was a young girl. She credits her father the most, who manufactured crocodile skin handbags near Tottenham Court Road in Central London. Before the handbags, Linda and her family grew up in Italia.
Q: What role do overcoats play in fashion?
A: Has a lot to do with punk, authentic looks. [My friend] Vivienne Westwood talked a lot of rubbish but had great style. A grand overcoat always polished her looks.
Q: What role does fashion play in London?
A: It’s a part of London society. It’s how we express ourselves.
Q: What are your biggest fashion pet peeves?
A: When people purchase an expensive coat with a sewn-up plea and cross-stitch it.
Q: How do you mean?
A: They make a cross-stitch bottom at the bottom of the plea. It’s supposed to be split, not stitched, and then sometimes people sew in their seams and pockets and that wasn’t the intent of the design. A customer right before you, she’s actually a regular, had a cross-stitch on her coat and she looked awful. I couldn’t tell her because she’s a regular and I didn’t want to be rude but it was terrible.
AGE: 75
Linda learned fashion skills and developed a knowledge of the industry when she was a young girl. She credits her father the most, who manufactured crocodile skin handbags near Tottenham Court Road in Central London. Before the handbags, Linda and her family grew up in Italia.
Q: What role do overcoats play in fashion?
A: Has a lot to do with punk, authentic looks. [My friend] Vivienne Westwood talked a lot of rubbish but had great style. A grand overcoat always polished her looks.
Q: What role does fashion play in London?
A: It’s a part of London society. It’s how we express ourselves.
Q: What are your biggest fashion pet peeves?
A: When people purchase an expensive coat with a sewn-up plea and cross-stitch it.
Q: How do you mean?
A: They make a cross-stitch bottom at the bottom of the plea. It’s supposed to be split, not stitched, and then sometimes people sew in their seams and pockets and that wasn’t the intent of the design. A customer right before you, she’s actually a regular, had a cross-stitch on her coat and she looked awful. I couldn’t tell her because she’s a regular and I didn’t want to be rude but it was terrible.
I Shot my Shot on Valentine's Day (and missed)
February 14, 2022
This one goes out to the barista at the Store Street Espresso. For real, I fell hard today for none other than a sexy man.
I ordered a tea and saw these green “matcha cookies” through the glass display. I asked about them but fumbled on the pronunciation because I was blinded by how gorgeously he was rockin’ that yellow Carhartt beanie.
“Ah yes, those green things,” he said. Without his words passing through my tympanic membrane, I cackled. Loud.
“Have a seat and I’ll bring you your drink,” he said perfectly. I couldn’t gather the words to tell him I was sitting downstairs so I aggressively pointed down (as if I were commanding someone to Hell) and said, “I’m down.”
Moments later, we were doing our homeworks in the basement when my knight in a bland gray apron exploded my heart up and into the blush of my cheeks.
He softly put my tea on the table and said, and I’ll never forget it, “Here’s that green thing.” Classic him, reminiscing our inside jokes.
He turned to leave but not before turning to wink at my hypnotized gaze and whispered, “call me.”
Fine, I made that wink and wave up but imagine!
If I could waltz up to him and write my phone number, address, social security, anything to place in his hand for him to hit a girl up (me) I would. But while I am ashamed to admit, I was too nervous.
The good news is that I have business cards for, no joke or lie, this exact situation. (The situation being: meeting an attractive stranger, potential possible suitor, of whom I am too foolish to speak to.)
The card says everything I need it to such as my phone number, full picture from head to roller skate, email address, and talents.
I slipped it in between my teacup and platter before I left and wished him a “Happy Valentines Day” exit line, honestly, just to say I did.
I have already been mentally rehearsing answers for if approached about my card the next time I enter the Store Street Espresso.
I ordered a tea and saw these green “matcha cookies” through the glass display. I asked about them but fumbled on the pronunciation because I was blinded by how gorgeously he was rockin’ that yellow Carhartt beanie.
“Ah yes, those green things,” he said. Without his words passing through my tympanic membrane, I cackled. Loud.
“Have a seat and I’ll bring you your drink,” he said perfectly. I couldn’t gather the words to tell him I was sitting downstairs so I aggressively pointed down (as if I were commanding someone to Hell) and said, “I’m down.”
Moments later, we were doing our homeworks in the basement when my knight in a bland gray apron exploded my heart up and into the blush of my cheeks.
He softly put my tea on the table and said, and I’ll never forget it, “Here’s that green thing.” Classic him, reminiscing our inside jokes.
He turned to leave but not before turning to wink at my hypnotized gaze and whispered, “call me.”
Fine, I made that wink and wave up but imagine!
If I could waltz up to him and write my phone number, address, social security, anything to place in his hand for him to hit a girl up (me) I would. But while I am ashamed to admit, I was too nervous.
The good news is that I have business cards for, no joke or lie, this exact situation. (The situation being: meeting an attractive stranger, potential possible suitor, of whom I am too foolish to speak to.)
The card says everything I need it to such as my phone number, full picture from head to roller skate, email address, and talents.
I slipped it in between my teacup and platter before I left and wished him a “Happy Valentines Day” exit line, honestly, just to say I did.
I have already been mentally rehearsing answers for if approached about my card the next time I enter the Store Street Espresso.
Stairway to Heaven...It's a Long Line
February 11, 2022
“If you are obviously drunk or in a large group of more than 4 people, they won’t let us in,” Boogie said, “so we’ll have to split up and not start drinking until 10:00 pm or later.”
Those were our instructions to enter Heaven, the underground gay club near Charing Cross.
‘Underground’ is a literal description, not to be confused with any indication of it being one of those “London’s best-kept secrets” because when we arrived there was a line outside the club that extended almost three blocks, estimating a 2-hour wait according to Jamie with the boom box who we met in said line.
Our group totaled ten of us so sneaking into the front would not be a subtle option, or so I thought.
Audrey ran and disappeared roughly six yards away from us, then ran back to us. She said there was a group up ahead who was willing to let us stand behind them. I followed her and introduced myself as she had already begun to do. However, before I was finished hearing the rest of the nice people’s names, Audrey was already introducing herself to a group farther down the line. Realizing the game, the group I was left with started yelling “Boo,” and, “don’t listen to her,” and “she’s doing this to everyone mate.” However, she was too far ahead; already around the bend and one-third of the way to the front entrance. I felt bad for a second, perhaps even a minute, but I soon followed around the corner to the next group we were about to use and abuse.
There, we met attractive accountants (two words I never thought I’d place together), all in their late twenties and from different parts of the world. Birmingham, Edinburgh, Sweden, Switzerland, Italy, Poland, it was like a United Nations meeting at a gay club with drag queens as the guest speakers.
More of accountant friends continued to cut the line with us so I took one of them aside, Paula from Poland, and said, “hold on, you’re sneaking a lot of friends in here,” I laid all my cards on the table, “if I don’t say a word, can we sneak in our eight friends?” Drunk and delighted at my fair request, they agreed.
Audrey ran the two blocks back over to alert the town. She came back disheveled and explained that she had just fallen flat down the stairs and slid down in a face-plant. She demonstrated her fall while opening her wingspan in a Jesus on a cross pose. As much as I wish I saw it, the story alone made me piss my pants, especially the part where she remained face-planted on the floor moments before she picked herself up. “Physically, I’m fine. Emotionally, I am wrecked,” she said before throwing in my favorite of her catch-phrases, “That was horrendous.”
As the ten of us stood closer in line, it did not take long before we knew the first names, birth countries, and current residencies of everyone within a fifteen foot radius.
We didn’t know it yet, but we were playing a dangerous game.
Paula and her friend, Guy, moved up and separated a little by fault and flow of the hefty crowd. Amelia and I followed Josh (another one of Paula’s friends) up ahead in conversation. Before I knew it, I was passing through a metal detector and displaying my driver's license. Next was the part down that made TSA look weak. I’m talking full frontal, some backside touching, inside the jacket, and to gloss it over, an all-over pat with the handheld metal detector.
Better safe than sorry!
Amelia and I got to the top of the staircase and waited for the others. However, they were all standing outside of the barricade. Boogie was cast aside because he had been previously mugged and in his stolen wallet was his identity. A few members of the group were denied entry because of their intoxication levels and the rest admitted to being a part of a large group, meaning the majority of us, including a rather large portion of that fifteen feet radius, were denied by association.
Standing there distraught, we debated whether or not to enter the club until someone stumbled down the stairs through the corner of my eye.
“I think that was Alex,” Amelia said. I looked down the stairs that lead down under to the club and there was Alex floating down. He stumbled in without a clue of how he made it. He was the level of drunk tat I don’t think he knew how to handle his existence as a human.
The club was awesome.
There were rainbow lasers scanning the huge dancefloor and whenever it felt right in the song, strobe lights beamed. The place was packed and I couldn’t tell if there was a DJ or not but for the hour or so we were there, strictly 80s and 90s songs were blasting. What I most prominently remember was a lot of black and white clothing (though that may have just been the lighting), and one girl who asked if she could dance with us to which I said, “of course.” After the four of us grooved for a song or two, the woman started typing on the “notes” application on her phone and showed us something along the lines of, “My friend has been making out with that guy for twenty minutes and he’s the only one I came with so can I stick with you guys for a little bit?” Naturally, we agreed but two songs later, and Amelia and I had to take Alex to the bathroom, an activity he’d been begging for since our arrival.
He said the bathroom was one of the most disgusting things he’d ever seen.
The club, however, was awesome. We left at 1:37 am to find where the rest of our party ended up but we will definitely be going back even though they stole Alex’s hidden grain in the patdown.
Those were our instructions to enter Heaven, the underground gay club near Charing Cross.
‘Underground’ is a literal description, not to be confused with any indication of it being one of those “London’s best-kept secrets” because when we arrived there was a line outside the club that extended almost three blocks, estimating a 2-hour wait according to Jamie with the boom box who we met in said line.
Our group totaled ten of us so sneaking into the front would not be a subtle option, or so I thought.
Audrey ran and disappeared roughly six yards away from us, then ran back to us. She said there was a group up ahead who was willing to let us stand behind them. I followed her and introduced myself as she had already begun to do. However, before I was finished hearing the rest of the nice people’s names, Audrey was already introducing herself to a group farther down the line. Realizing the game, the group I was left with started yelling “Boo,” and, “don’t listen to her,” and “she’s doing this to everyone mate.” However, she was too far ahead; already around the bend and one-third of the way to the front entrance. I felt bad for a second, perhaps even a minute, but I soon followed around the corner to the next group we were about to use and abuse.
There, we met attractive accountants (two words I never thought I’d place together), all in their late twenties and from different parts of the world. Birmingham, Edinburgh, Sweden, Switzerland, Italy, Poland, it was like a United Nations meeting at a gay club with drag queens as the guest speakers.
More of accountant friends continued to cut the line with us so I took one of them aside, Paula from Poland, and said, “hold on, you’re sneaking a lot of friends in here,” I laid all my cards on the table, “if I don’t say a word, can we sneak in our eight friends?” Drunk and delighted at my fair request, they agreed.
Audrey ran the two blocks back over to alert the town. She came back disheveled and explained that she had just fallen flat down the stairs and slid down in a face-plant. She demonstrated her fall while opening her wingspan in a Jesus on a cross pose. As much as I wish I saw it, the story alone made me piss my pants, especially the part where she remained face-planted on the floor moments before she picked herself up. “Physically, I’m fine. Emotionally, I am wrecked,” she said before throwing in my favorite of her catch-phrases, “That was horrendous.”
As the ten of us stood closer in line, it did not take long before we knew the first names, birth countries, and current residencies of everyone within a fifteen foot radius.
We didn’t know it yet, but we were playing a dangerous game.
Paula and her friend, Guy, moved up and separated a little by fault and flow of the hefty crowd. Amelia and I followed Josh (another one of Paula’s friends) up ahead in conversation. Before I knew it, I was passing through a metal detector and displaying my driver's license. Next was the part down that made TSA look weak. I’m talking full frontal, some backside touching, inside the jacket, and to gloss it over, an all-over pat with the handheld metal detector.
Better safe than sorry!
Amelia and I got to the top of the staircase and waited for the others. However, they were all standing outside of the barricade. Boogie was cast aside because he had been previously mugged and in his stolen wallet was his identity. A few members of the group were denied entry because of their intoxication levels and the rest admitted to being a part of a large group, meaning the majority of us, including a rather large portion of that fifteen feet radius, were denied by association.
Standing there distraught, we debated whether or not to enter the club until someone stumbled down the stairs through the corner of my eye.
“I think that was Alex,” Amelia said. I looked down the stairs that lead down under to the club and there was Alex floating down. He stumbled in without a clue of how he made it. He was the level of drunk tat I don’t think he knew how to handle his existence as a human.
The club was awesome.
There were rainbow lasers scanning the huge dancefloor and whenever it felt right in the song, strobe lights beamed. The place was packed and I couldn’t tell if there was a DJ or not but for the hour or so we were there, strictly 80s and 90s songs were blasting. What I most prominently remember was a lot of black and white clothing (though that may have just been the lighting), and one girl who asked if she could dance with us to which I said, “of course.” After the four of us grooved for a song or two, the woman started typing on the “notes” application on her phone and showed us something along the lines of, “My friend has been making out with that guy for twenty minutes and he’s the only one I came with so can I stick with you guys for a little bit?” Naturally, we agreed but two songs later, and Amelia and I had to take Alex to the bathroom, an activity he’d been begging for since our arrival.
He said the bathroom was one of the most disgusting things he’d ever seen.
The club, however, was awesome. We left at 1:37 am to find where the rest of our party ended up but we will definitely be going back even though they stole Alex’s hidden grain in the patdown.
Boroughing Through
February 9, 2022
Today is the second time I have been, so far, to the Borough Market that seems to circulate the London smog. I will walk the two hours or take the twenty-minute tube ride every damn day for the Turkish stall alone. A double of freshly ground Turkish coffee, (which if my best friend were reading this she would correct me to “Greek Coffee”), and their fluffy delicate Turkish delight is worth a trip to the large market.
Continuing onward, a majority of the stalls sell local, farm-fresh, or bakery fresh bread, cheeses, meats, oils, ciders, wines, et cetera. Even purchased at a grocery store, every product such as these tastes purer and as if I’m eating real food compared to the states, which use products and chemicals that are illegal in the United Kingdom (and other regions of the globe), not that they’re complaining.
Following the signs for “hot food” leads to the immaculate aroma of lunch stalls, mainly from a variety of Mediterranean or Asian cuisine-based establishments. I was drawn to the center stall, “The Black Pig,” an enticing and alluring name for someone who does not eat pork.
Therefore, it wasn’t the shredded meat in the large pan that lured me to the overflowing line, nor the melting cheese of gooey goodness. What captured my undecided and overwhelmed mind was the freshly baked ciabatta bread barricading around the edges of The Black Pig. I couldn’t even smell it in the thick of other stalls’ delicious potency but I craved it harder than a pig craves it's own crap.
I ordered the vegetarian option; “The Veggie One (V): smoked scamorza cheese, honey truffle mayo, fennel apple slaw & salsa verde,” and for 0.50p and add on of “peperoncini s’ott olio” which I don’t know exactly what it was but spicy and excellent I can claim for sure.
Afterwards, we hit the Turkish stand owned by the nice Turkish couple, where I settled my stomach with coffee and Turkish delight. Hell yes, The Borough Market has yet to fail!
Continuing onward, a majority of the stalls sell local, farm-fresh, or bakery fresh bread, cheeses, meats, oils, ciders, wines, et cetera. Even purchased at a grocery store, every product such as these tastes purer and as if I’m eating real food compared to the states, which use products and chemicals that are illegal in the United Kingdom (and other regions of the globe), not that they’re complaining.
Following the signs for “hot food” leads to the immaculate aroma of lunch stalls, mainly from a variety of Mediterranean or Asian cuisine-based establishments. I was drawn to the center stall, “The Black Pig,” an enticing and alluring name for someone who does not eat pork.
Therefore, it wasn’t the shredded meat in the large pan that lured me to the overflowing line, nor the melting cheese of gooey goodness. What captured my undecided and overwhelmed mind was the freshly baked ciabatta bread barricading around the edges of The Black Pig. I couldn’t even smell it in the thick of other stalls’ delicious potency but I craved it harder than a pig craves it's own crap.
I ordered the vegetarian option; “The Veggie One (V): smoked scamorza cheese, honey truffle mayo, fennel apple slaw & salsa verde,” and for 0.50p and add on of “peperoncini s’ott olio” which I don’t know exactly what it was but spicy and excellent I can claim for sure.
Afterwards, we hit the Turkish stand owned by the nice Turkish couple, where I settled my stomach with coffee and Turkish delight. Hell yes, The Borough Market has yet to fail!
Birdhouse in your Soul
February 7, 2022
‘Gigantic’ would not be enough, for I need a word that categorizes King Kong in order to describe these ducks. Two of them sized me up while writing this, and believe you me I backed down and scooched down my bench to make room for the fowl to walk by.
The man on my right and the man on my left were each feeding the birds amongst the passing locals and tourists during their lunch hour. On my right, he had a giant bag of popcorn while the man on my left pulled out what appeared to be a never-ending supply of “Wonder” bread. Each bird feeder acquired their own flock of wings and feathers at their feet. Popcorn gathered a large number of the park’s seagulls, pigeons, and I want to say crows? Meanwhile, Mr. Wonder bread kept two to four ducks on his tail at all times s by breaking off a piece and taking turns placing it in each duckbill.
There was a great irony to the surrounding pedestrians who were flocking just like ducks and pigeons and swans and seagulls to wherever those birds would wander. People would waddle behind and take pictures, try to pet the poultry, or follow in simple jaw-dropped astonishment at the size of those fucking ducks, as did I. Just as birds congregate to whoever dispenses food upon their fingertips, we the people flock into the surrounding (overpriced) food stands and cafés due to the establishments’ similar actions of practically sticking out their grubby hands with tantalizing snacks. The major and rather unfortunate difference; when we bite, we pay.
The man on my right and the man on my left were each feeding the birds amongst the passing locals and tourists during their lunch hour. On my right, he had a giant bag of popcorn while the man on my left pulled out what appeared to be a never-ending supply of “Wonder” bread. Each bird feeder acquired their own flock of wings and feathers at their feet. Popcorn gathered a large number of the park’s seagulls, pigeons, and I want to say crows? Meanwhile, Mr. Wonder bread kept two to four ducks on his tail at all times s by breaking off a piece and taking turns placing it in each duckbill.
There was a great irony to the surrounding pedestrians who were flocking just like ducks and pigeons and swans and seagulls to wherever those birds would wander. People would waddle behind and take pictures, try to pet the poultry, or follow in simple jaw-dropped astonishment at the size of those fucking ducks, as did I. Just as birds congregate to whoever dispenses food upon their fingertips, we the people flock into the surrounding (overpriced) food stands and cafés due to the establishments’ similar actions of practically sticking out their grubby hands with tantalizing snacks. The major and rather unfortunate difference; when we bite, we pay.
The Hottest Club in Town
February 3, 2022
Before my venture overseas, I was occasionally warned about the daily life span of a pub; the closing time being 10:00 pm, 10:30 pm if we’re lucky. Only on the weekdays, but it still makes for an empty night because 10:30 pm is when the crazy usually begins. We will have to adjust, or pregame harder, but I refuse to allow this early closing kerfuffle to put a damper on our time here.
However, what is open late, and even employs bouncers and security guards for the crowded nightly occasions are the fast-food restaurants that populate the streets. It was midnight, the perfect time for fries and a milkshake when we began our first (or at least my first) venture to a United Kingdom McDonald's. We pitied past the closed pubs and lack of Thursday nightlife until we turned a corner. Lines piled out the door of McDonald's, and across from it, a line outside Five Guys, with an almost empty Burger King completing the triangle.
As this was my fourth night, I had gone to a pub or liquor store at least twice a day and had yet to be questioned or carded. For the poppin’ nightlife of the fast food, each establishment comes with its own bouncer and I thought I was going to have to pull out my social security. These guys had everything from neon vests to flashlights. If you’re thinking this was for social distance purposes, that was not the case because those laws were lifted here. Who would’ve thought McDonald’s was the place to be? Honestly, not I.
However, what is open late, and even employs bouncers and security guards for the crowded nightly occasions are the fast-food restaurants that populate the streets. It was midnight, the perfect time for fries and a milkshake when we began our first (or at least my first) venture to a United Kingdom McDonald's. We pitied past the closed pubs and lack of Thursday nightlife until we turned a corner. Lines piled out the door of McDonald's, and across from it, a line outside Five Guys, with an almost empty Burger King completing the triangle.
As this was my fourth night, I had gone to a pub or liquor store at least twice a day and had yet to be questioned or carded. For the poppin’ nightlife of the fast food, each establishment comes with its own bouncer and I thought I was going to have to pull out my social security. These guys had everything from neon vests to flashlights. If you’re thinking this was for social distance purposes, that was not the case because those laws were lifted here. Who would’ve thought McDonald’s was the place to be? Honestly, not I.