Jun12
Gutted.
It’s been a great 5 months. I never, ever in a million years could have told you it would have all played out like it did. But there you go. It’s been gorgeous.
I’m taking home a lot of new friends, a load of wild memories and some really great times in my back pocket.
To Europe, my loved ones, England and my life here… I’ll be back. Don’t you worry.
Cheers.
Jun11
Hello, the Sweet Shop.
Jun10
Today I was a model for a soon-to-be published textbook on nailcare.
A copy of every book that’s published in the UK is kept on record in the British Library. My hands and feet will be immortalised in the British Library, for all of eternity.
That’s just a cool little thing to know.
Jun7
This morning I drove to work on the left side of the road again. I answered the phones when I knew it would potentially be a hearty Scottish accent on the other end, and mindlessly rattled off prices in GBPs all day, and I ordered pizza from dominos.co.uk, and said my Cheers’ at the proper time and I complained just the right amount about the weather.
I really am pretty good at this, you know.
Jun4
Oh, you know. Just out on a run.
Jun3
It’s taken me a while. This would have been convenient.
May30
The dilemma over whether to get on the 38 or the 19.
Farringdon Grill.
Shoreditch on Sunday afternoons.
O’Neills.
Betsy’s and the Eagle.
Irving Penn at the National Portrait Gallery.
Selfridge’s after work.
Monmouth coffee.
Black cabs.
The V&A.
Sloane Square.
PC boxes in the stairwell.
Dodging the charity-people-who-want-your-money in Trafalgar on the walk to class.
Killing time in Covent Garden.
Pub crawls.
Student Dealz.
Islington.
Hyde Park.
May28
I JUST DROVE ON THE LEFT SIDE OF THE ROAD.
May21
I’m in Leeds now.
And it’s awesome. I love the people. I LOVE THE ACCENT (this is directed to everyone in London who thinks it sucks). It’s absurd how fabulous everyone here is…the Northerners are some kind of nice. I have been invited into this lovely home which I absolutely adore, and everyone I work with is truly just… darling. I can understand now when someone tried to compare the Southern-American accent to the Yorkshire-English accent, because there is the same very similar smile-and-twang.
But it’s terribly precious, and I like it very, very much.
May17
I’m sitting in the Barcelona airport. It’s beautiful outside, and I realise that’s kind-of-sort-of-ironic because I’m inside. But I’ll take what I can get on account of it’s been raining eight of out 10 days of my Spanish-Portuguese vacay. Aw, well. So much for soaking the rays before heading up north.
There is a current Race Against the Volcano going on again. It’s a strange concept, this thing up in the air that’s grounding flights at seemingly random times. Can’t see it, have to believe in it, don’t know when it will act up again. It’s like Jesus.
