In a nostalgic mood (and because I’m either suffering from food poisoning or a monster has taken up residence in my stomach), I decided to rewatch some Disney films I loved as a child: Mary Poppins, 101 Dalmations, and Bedknobs and Broomsticks. It’s probably been about 20 years since I’ve last seen Bedknobs and Broomsticks […]
Tag Archives | london
As embarrassed as I can occasionally be about my rampant Anglophilia, I am unashamed of my obsessive fangirlism. Well, maybe not “unashamed”. More like “have come to terms with”. I am desperately uncool, but at 26, I’m okay with that. I am what the Brits might uncharitably call an “anorak” about many things, but whatever. […]
I don’t write much, or even take photos much in London. It’s partly due to the fact that I am no longer alone–Psychic Roommate is with me now en route to Avignon–but also partly because I’m not a tourist here. Not quite, anyway.
In an attempt to spend down my euros before leaving Austria (I hate having spare change in multiple currencies–I still have about €0,69 in a piggy jar at home), I buy every prepackaged thing in the Vienna airport. (Der Flughafen, a word I adore.) Even their airport cappuccino is amazing, although I can’t say the […]
- JJ: It was Psychic Roommate, me, and every 8-year-old boy in England—or people who might as well have been 8-year-old boys—at the Doctor Who Experience.
- Mum: So I imagine you fit right in.
As she is my Mum, I suppose she knows me best. But yeah, I really am an 8-year-old boy at heart, aren’t I?
For those who aren’t familiar with the text (I highly doubt my blog readership–such as it is, ha–isn’t familiar with Shakespeare, but you never know), Much Ado About Nothing is a romantic comedy in which two pairs of lovers, Beatrice and Benedick and Hero and Claudio, get into complications on their respective ways to the […]
If you follow me on Twitter or Tumblr (especially Tumblr), then you know I am a huge fan of Doctor Who, and that I am a huge fan of David Tennant’s run as the Tenth Doctor, and that Catherine Tate as Donna is my favourite companion. They are performing as Beatrice and Benedick in a […]
I don’t sleep on the flight from Newark to Heathrow, which is strange because I’ve always been able to sleep on planes. I don’t sleep but I doze, a restless, fitful state that is neither restful nor refreshing. I had hoped to arrive in London having fooled my body into believing it had gotten a […]
I have been struck with a sudden fit of nostalgia for London. I miss London everyday, but the memory of the experience of living there has been fairly faded in the three and a half years I’ve been back in the States. But lately small memories have been flaring with sharp clarity in my mind: the way the city constantly smelled of damp and wet and stone even on a clear day, the feel of the wrought-iron fences lining Russell Square, how I would wander by the fountains playing and walk past Senate Library and around the British Museum on a long, meandering walk back from class to my flat back in Clerkenwell. The taste of Marlboro Reds and the warmth of the lights under my hand as Sofa and I talked long into the night sitting in the niche behind The Guardian building. How Tesco and Sainsbury smelled. The sound of tuna cans clinking against my leg in their plastic grocery bag as I walked over the cobblestones outside Exmouth Arms. The unexpected jolts of bright red and green and blue and yellow and saturation in a City that I always think of as perpetually grey. How I never felt as though I knew her completely, the city, the way I know New York now, the way I knew Los Angeles then. I think I miss the feeling of being lost, of being new, of not knowing and finding my way. [...]
Most days I feel that way about London. I really miss London.