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Sunday, April 1, 2007

Girl off an old Brick Lane

Warning: lots of melancholy and little humor in this entry, read at the risk of needing a stiff drink afterward
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A little honesty. I would be enjoying London much more with some friends. I'm usually fiercely independent, but to be honest, I am a bit ill of my own company. I have been wandering around Spitalfields market which is absolutely brilliant and enjoying the sites (Great suggestion Laura!!), but I am having a little friend envy. I can be anti-social for weeks at a time back home and pass it off as charmingly reclusive (well, I know Kelley doesn’t find it at all charming, just reclusive :-).

But it's nice to have the option of calling a friend for brunch. There are some wonderful looking restaurants throughout the market, but I'm disinclined to get a table for one. Don't get me wrong, I know many you are saying "it's okay to sit at a table for one Michelle.".
It isn't that I think there is some kind social stigma or that I would care if there were, it's that I am just sick of my own stories and thoughts. It would be nice to hear someone else go on for awhile. I never really thought of myself as a person that needs too many others around, but I am learning that I am no Henry David and Bethnal Green isn't Walden. However, being the trained debater I am, I would argue that it might have been easier for him since he wasn't constantly surrounded by thousands of cheerful people. I know that I am using a bit of literally license by calling Londoners a cheerful lot. Well-dressed, polite, smart, lovely accents and vocabularies, and cosmopolitan? Yes. Excessively cheerful? No.

I digress. I'm a bit lonely in London. I guess stoicism isn't my mood du jour. I want to leave London hating to leave, but I am not exactly having that experience right now. Sorry to dribble a bit of real life into my normally hysterical journal
-)

I blame it on Tennessee Williams. As I was a bit at odds last night, I thought I would go down to the theater district and see if I could grab a seat to something. I was in a hurry because I didn't really get to the area until about 7:35 and most curtain calls are 7:30 or 8. At about 7:58, I saw the awning for Cabaret, so I thought "perfect.". I went to the box office, bought a ticket and made it just in time. I sat down and looked at my ticket. Guess what it said?
Glass Menagerie. The theatres are right next to each other and I went to the wrong box office!1 For the same uplifting experience, I could have counseled little boys who had just lost their puppies or had a drink with a bride recently left at the alter. Good times. The guy in front of me fell asleep. What's her name was in it. If anyone out there thinks that Mr. Williams is a genius, would you mind sending me an email and explaining why? Bueller, Bueller?

Ergo, I blame my disheartened state on Tennessee. Maybe someone will turn my blog into a play and I'll at least make loads of money.

I hope no one misconstrues the above as complaining, as it is really just a mix of a slight homesickness and melancholy. I really, really do appreciate what an awesome opportunity this is. I also don't want any of the lovely Brits I have met think that your hospitality isn't fully appreciated - exactly the contrary, it is GREATLY appreciated.

Note added 20 minutes after post went live: The neighbor who helped me out on during my lockout adventure below stopped by to say hello. See - things are picking up already. Thanks for peaking in Patrick - look forward to grabbing a cuppa.



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1 Despite the evidence of almost every entry, I am not the dumbest person ever (Please, someone corroborate!), I just occasionally make silly mistakes and feel the need to publish them to the world! I'm not even going to go into how I locked myself out of my flat last week and had to call my brother in Seattle so he could google the number of a locksmith in London. And it gave me a excuse to meet one of my neighbors who lent me his yellow pages and keys so I wouldn't be locked in the stairwell - MUCH appreciated. Now three hours on your porch on a Saturday night - that's how we roll in London.

2 comments:

Meghan said...

Dude. I just wrote you a long comment about how not to be homesick because it's totally normal and that when you feel down and out you have to get out of your flat and get some ass (or go see a museum) that all of that will make you feel better. I said it much more eloquently (sp?) than that, though. Try to remember you will be home before you know it and that you should really relish in the moments you have there. Also know that it's OK to cry for like 15 minutes and miss home for those 15 minutes...but then to get over it. OK darling?! I can't wait to read about your next adventure! :) love, Meg

Chris said...

It may not be a big deal to you, but I do not live Seattle. I understand that you are informing people you had to call your brother back here in the states and that 99% of the people that read this have no idea where the big city of Orting is, but it is an insult to me to say I live in Seattle. I hate that city with a true passion. I would pull each one of my fingernails off with a pair of rusty pliers before living there. Next time, just say you had to call me back in the states. Let's hope there is not a next time for the same circumstances. I love you and be safe. Your little "redneck" Orting living brother.