Five on the Fifth: December 2011

So it's the 5th of December and time for another edition of Five on the 5th.  Blogger Stephen Chapman who writes the blog The State of the Nation UK organizes a monthly photofest of sorts.  It's called "Five on the 5th" and it is five random photographs taken from your life on or in the days leading up to the fifth of each month.  This month's optional theme is "Winter Weekend."  This is apparently the final installment of Five on the 5th, as Stephen is mulling about options to replace the photofest with something else.  Something equally as fun, I'm sure.

This month finds me back in London on an extended stay, enjoying some shenanigans with friends around the city.  My photos mainly follow the optional theme and, as always, are posted without comment.

Five on the 5th

So it's the 5th of March and time for another edition of Five on the 5th.  Blogger Stephen Chapman who writes the blog The State of the Nation UK organizes a monthly photofest of sorts.  It's called "Five on the 5th" and it is five random photographs taken from your life on or in the days leading up to the fifth of each month.  This month's optional theme is "New."

 

I struggled quite a bit with the optional theme this month.  I thought about heading in the opposite direction and photographing a number of old things, some of which I did include below.  But really all the pics are of things I've run into in the days running up to today.

 

I should note that after almost a year of living in London, I'm moving back to Texas in less than 48 hours.  At the end of the day, London and I tried each other on for size but we just don't fit.  I'm ready to be back in Texas.

Five on the 5th

So it's the 5th of March and time for another edition of Five on the 5th.  Blogger Stephen Chapman who writes the blog The State of the Nation UK organizes a monthly photofest of sorts.  It's called "Five on the 5th" and it is five random photographs taken from your life on or in the days leading up to the fifth of each month.  This month's optional theme is "Lines."

I seem to only be participating about every other month, but the challenges of grad school seem to be keeping me rather busy.  Hence my sporadic posting in any way, shape, or form.

Never a quiet night

Since arriving in London there are many neighborhoods that I just haven't been able to explore.  My world as a grad student has really consisted of classes, studying in the library, commuting between home and campus, and visiting a few pubs with coursemates and a few friends.  One place that I've had at least a passing interest in exploring was Vauxhall.  While Brit Boy and I were together he would regale me stories of good times had dancing in Vauxhall with friends and how it has a pretty cool vibe.  This has been supported by some friends who visit London periodically, so I figured it was at least worth checking out.

Well, accompanied by a couple of friends (a fellow student and a friend of his) I recently ventured down from my ivory tower to explore, get my dance on, and enjoy a much needed mental break.  The result of the night out?  Eh...  We went to a few places and the crowds were... overwhelming.  I mean, I'm fine with having to wind through a crowded bar or negotiate space on the dancefloor with my fellow... revelers?  but people really just seemed oblivious to the fact that other people existed and were throwing elbows right and left.  We visited at least three different bars and it all seemed the same.  However, I do have to wonder if it was the fact that we didn't really get out until later in the evening (honestly, I'm not exactly sure what time we did hit the first place), but it did seem as if people were already well-hammered by the time we arrived.

Whatever.  On the way home, my friends and I were crossing Vauxhall Bridge and chatting away when we saw a rather inebriated man standing/swaying close to the North side.  Oddly enough, it seemed like he was trying to hide behind a lamp post, without much luck I might add.  Anyway, as we got closer, it became apparent that he wasn't trying to hide but rather staggering his way across the bridge.  At a very slow pace.  As we approached he turned to me and asked for a cigarette.

"I'm sorry, I don't have any," I responded.

He attempted to focus on my face as he was processing my response and just kinda swayed from side-to-side.  "Oh...." he finally stammered.  "Well..." he started as his eyes showed that he had finally decided on one of the many of me he must have seeing on which to focus.  "Come back to Vauxhall..."  "No, we're good for the night.  We're out."  "Pleeeeaaasssee..." he slurred.  I had to wonder if he needed an escort for him to even find his own way back to Vauxhall.  Or to keep from falling over the bridge and into the Thames.

After I repeated that we weren't gonna return to Vauxhall he started to move but stopped short and turned to me again.  "Okay then..." he mumbled and started to lean toward me as if trying to kiss me goodbye.  I leaned away and said a polite goodnight.  "Oh come on... just a kiss," he responded.  "I'm good, thanks."  "I can make it worth your while," he said and moved his hand to his crotch in what I can only imagine he meant as a seductive manner.

"As tempting as that is," I said, barely able to hold in my laughter, "I still think we're heading home.  Good luck."  And with that my friends and I left him swaying on the sidewalk holding himself.  I hope he was able to give himself a good time.

Five inches

It snowed in London.  Four days ago.  About 4-5" of snow, actually.  The transport system, from airplanes to trains to buses to cars, has been seriously strained ever since.

Never before has 5" fucked more people.

Favorite Words

A very dear friend and my workout partner of the past year or so has come to London for a visit with his parents.  Along with heading out on the town the other night for some lovely libations, today we did what we seem to know best - hit the gym and catch up on each other's gossip.  As we were getting changed to hit the weight room he looks over at me while I'm getting undressed and am rambling on about something and interrupts me with:

"Oh fuck!  You've stayed in shape!  Bastard."

"Pardon?" I respond.

"Look at you, all trim and...  There's a bit more of me than there used to be."

"You say the sweetest things..."

I want to be a librarian!!

It's been almost two weeks since my last post.  I wish I could say that I've just been too busy to write up all the interesting things that I'm experiencing here in London, but in reality, I'm just spending a lot of time in the library.  The life of a grad student, I guess.  I do see a short break in the tunnel ahead which will allow for some much needed light.  But it is just a short break after submission of coursework and before exams.  I'll take what I can get, I guess.

Which brings me to a new idea I've had on how to explore London as a grad student.  As I know I have a few London-based readers, what are a couple of cool libraries around central London?  I've noticed that I've been drudging back and forth to my campus library which, to be honest, is a bit of a drab place.  It serves me well, but there are many times I don't actually need anything from the library.  It just serves as a place to focus on studying (I cannot study at home at all.  Never really could.)  The only matter of convenience with my campus library is that it's open 24/7, but in reality, the number of times I've stayed in the library past midnight aren't that many.

Suggestions?

Five on the 5th

So it's the 5th of November (Remember, remember the 5th of November...) and time for another edition of Five on the 5th.  Blogger Stephen Chapman who writes the blog The State of the Nation UK organizes a monthly photofest of sorts.  It's called "Five on the 5th" and it is five random photographs taken from your life on or in the days leading up to the fifth of each month.  This month's optional theme is "Recycled."


I struggled quite a bit with the optional theme in the days leading up to the 5th and took several rounds of photos to try to make it work.  At the end of the day, I just didn't have anything I really liked.  So this month I just have some random photos to post.

London Experience #318

It was late.  Well past midnight.  I had just finished up at the library and was walking home.  After a quiet if spine-tingling walk through Green Park I was just rounding the corner by Buckingham Palace when I heard it.  It was distinct and clear in the cold night air.  A woman's scream.  High pitched and filled with fear.  Followed quickly by the deep, resonant tones of a man screaming in anger.  In a language I certainly did not know.

It was difficult to see from distance, but I could easily make out two people scuffling ahead on the sidewalk opposite.  As I walked toward them I heard a loud "thud" as one person was thrown up against the ply-board wall of the construction barricade, followed by sobbing and soft words spoken as if in apology for some previous act.  The man continued screaming.

I hurried to cross the street as the man grabbed the woman by the upper arm and flung her across the sidewalk where she tripped and stumbled, almost falling into the street.  Before I reached the scene another man, obviously having just finished up at one the two pubs nearby, saw the incident and quickly put down the bottle he was carrying and walked in the middle of the melee, acting as a shield for the woman against her boyfriend attacker.  Once I got to the scene, the attacker calmed down immediately and turned to me.  "Hey, what's up?" he asked rather nonchalantly.  "I'm fine," I said with some caution in my voice.  "Things don't seem to be so okay here.  I think you need to step away from the woman."

At this moment a building security guard arrived and on his two-way radio requested that the police be called.  The attacker turned from me and started yelling, attempting to get to his prey through the human shield.  The woman ducked away and moved toward me while the two men had a slight scuffle, which resulted in the (now very apparent) drunk human shield on the ground.

"Do you have a way to get home?" I asked the woman as she and I started to walk away from the scene.  I heard her attacker screaming after us.

"Yes, I do," she said and held up a set of keys.  "But he has to come with me," she continued and motioned toward her attacker who had closed the gap between us very quickly.

"We're going," he said to the woman now behind me as I turned to face him.  His demeanor had changed completely.  He was now calm and collected.  The anger I witnessed just seconds before was nowhere to be seen.

Before he could move past me a police van arrived and the security guard waved them down.  The attacker turned and looked at me.  Like a light-switch the anger had returned and the rage in his eyes was evident and intimidating, even though I'm a good 6" taller and had him by at least 20 lbs of muscle.

The woman sat on the curb crying as the police attempted to take her statement.  The man was put in hand-cuffs and placed inside the police van, cursing the entire time.  The drunk human shield was now nowhere to be seen.

Coming Out

He was a stranger in our kitchen, doing a bit of washing up.  I needed to get to the kettle to make some tea.

"Oh hey, I don't think I know you," I said as I said my excuses to reach and grab the kettle.

"I'm Michael*," he said.  "I'm here visiting Rachel*"

I made my introductions and we struck up some mindless banter while I waited for the water to boil.  What program we were each in.  Which campus we attended.  Had I been to the UK before?  Things like that.  As part of my explanation for the last question I mentioned that I had dated someone from Britain before and as such had visited a few times.

"Right," he replied.  "Yeah, a lot of British girls go for American guys.  And the other way round, as well."

"Well," I started.  "Often British boys and American boys go for one another as well.  Boys and girls don't have the monopoly on that."

"Oh right.  Yeah.  Of course.  Cheers." And the mindless banter continued.

I should have known...

It was bound to happen.  I knew it would happen.  I guess I had just hoped it wouldn't happen for a while.

Me: "Howdy, I'm Cary."

Him: "You're American, aren't you?  Where are you from"

Me: "Good catch.  I'm from Texas."

Him: "Hrmmm...  I met a Cary from Texas once.  You didn't.... by chance...  know my good friend 'Brit Boy'?"

Me: "Ummmm.... yeah.... HI!!!!"

Yuppers.  It has happened.  The first people I actually talked to while out and about trying to meet new people on my own here in London are friends of my ex Brit Boy.  Great.  Fabulous.  Wonderful.  Fantastic.  Wanna know what's even more fabulous?  They think I should work toward building bridges with Brit Boy since I am now in his country.

Seriously.

I have no words.  After what he said to me after our break-up I have no desire whatsoever to have him as a part of my life in any way shape, form, idea, concept, or thought.  I don't know that I can explain it, but it was just so negative.  I try to live my life in the positive arena and that experience just wasn't anywhere near that.

However, it is apparent that me living here in London is gonna mean me running into Brit Boy's friends. Well, I knew it was gonna happen.  I mean, he did live here for 15 years.  I guess I just hoped it wouldn't happen the first time I went out to meet some people outside of the grad program for which I am here.

5 on the 5th

I figured that since I am now residing in the UK, I should play nice and do as several UK bloggers (and those elsewhere in the world) are doing.  Blogger Stephen Chapman who writes the blog The State of the Nation UK organizes a monthly photofest of sorts.  It's called "5 on the 5th" and it is five random photographs taken from your life on or in the days leading up to the fifth of each month.  This month's optional theme is "Round."

It's also an opportunity for me to get back to taking pictures.

Here's my first contribution.  Posted without comment.

Ummm... Ma'am? I'm trying to pee here.

Gentlemen's Public Convenience.  Apparently that is what a public toilet is called here in the City of Westminster.  The City of Westminster being a... borough? within the city of London.  As part of my immersion into London I have been trying to wander around and explore a bit each day.  I mean, I got really lost my second day here when I went for a run and... well... If there was a wrong turn to make  on my route, I took every single one of them.

Anyway, I was out and about yesterday just getting a feel for the neighborhood, checking out different gym options, and such when I realized that I *really* had to pee.  Luckily, there are these "public convenience" facilities all over the place.  You know, so George Michael always has a convenient place to go hook up with his random of the night.  I enter and it's actually not too bad.  I mean, it's not the men's room in the Four Seasons, complete with bathroom attendant ready to hand you a towel, offer you some cologne, and a Barbicide disinfected comb to run through your hair, but it wasn't a rat-infested, piss-smelling, hobo-sleeping shanty either.

Oddly, there's a small line to use the facilities, but I quickly get to a urinal while a few others are waiting for a stall.  So there I am, pants undone, urinating when there's a sudden knock on a door behind me I hadn't noticed before and a woman enters the gentleman's public convenience.  Holding a roll of toilet paper in her hand she looks around.  "'ello love," she says to a man waiting patiently for a stall.  "You need the stall, do ya?" At this point I am no longer able to pee.  It just stops on its own.  "'ello lovies," she says rather loudly in the direction of the stalls.  "People are waayyting.  Hurry along," and she closes the door through which she came.

I kinda look around in shock and try to finish my business.  As I'm washing my hands, she knocks and comes in again.  This time fully entering the room.  Once again she says to the people in the stalls, "Lovies... hurry along in there.  People are waayyting."  She then walks toward to stalls with the roll of toilet paper and passes it to the occupant under the door.  I hear him thank her as if nothing is unusual here at all.

All I could do as I left the Gentlemen's Public Convenience was nervously laugh.  I'm still not sure why I was so uncomfortable in the situation.  Meh... Just another thing to get used to I suppose.

And... I've arrived

I took a moment the other day and realized that I have 11 unfinished blog posts that I started to write up over the past few months. For whatever reason, I apparently have been unable to get the words to come out in a way that I felt was... pleasant. Humorous. Honest. Wait a minute. Since when was honesty a required aspect to my postings here?

Anyway, I have arrived in London. After many delays due to bureaucratic issues I was granted entry to the UK and have started to settle in to my new home. Starting, being the operative word. My new home is a 12'x12' sparsely furnished room with a bed that would make a tenant in a correctional institution toss and turn. I have a few linens, the means to store some clothes, implements for personal hygiene, and the ability to feed myself. So, all in all, I'm doing alright.

It's also been raining constantly. Now, of course I expected this. I've been to London before and I spent most of last Fall and Winter watching the weather in London so I'd know what I was up for. I also knew that this is the biggest area of concern for me. Rain. Lack of sun. For months.

The city is still a new and interesting place for me to explore, which I have been doing to some degree. I'm trying to walk most places and the streets are a little less than easy to learn. I went running the other day. I intended to run for about 40-45 minutes. A little over 80 minutes later I got home after asking three different people for directions. I will say, however, that jogging past Buckingham Palace is kinda cool. I'm looking forward to my next run around Parliament and Westminster Abbey.

The course has started and I'm happy to be here. I'm scared as fuck to be here. I'm feeling the pangs of lonliness about being here. I'm feeling the pressure of being here. A night has yet to pass where I do not cry at some point in my preparations for sleep. I mourn the loss of my comfy life back home. I mourn the absence of so many friends. I doubt my ability to complete and accomplish this goal. I mourn the distance from and worry about a loved-one.

But in the end, I'm in London. I'M IN LONDON!!!! And that in and of itself fills me with pride and energy.

Sorry about the somber energy of this post. As I branch out more in the city I'm sure more craziness and shenanigans will ensue. They always do.