All the ingredients for a good weekend!
On Saturday, once again, Ros and I set out to go for a walk in the park. Yeah right... hehe... This time at least we made it as far as London Bridge and went for a stroll over Borough Market and around the Tate Modern. Richmond Park will have to wait for another day... but we enjoyed a little bit of culture and tourists anyway.
Afterwards, of course, we felt like beer and stopped at random pubs, one of which offered a pint of Beck's for 2.50! Oooooh! I apologize at this point to everyone German: don't defriend me... you get quite desperate in this Country of Expensive Beer and I ended up drinking a different sort of beer anyway...
That was because all the Beck's in the world had been drunk by a bunch of furries, who held a convention in one of the bars we stumbled into. It took us a second to realise that we were surrounded by gay men with bushy green tails. Some had paws. Some had massive, brightly colourful wolf costumes. Some simply had a paper tag with a drawing of their alter ego around their necks. Some turned out to not be gay at all, even.
We were welcomed warmly into their furry family and learned a lot that day. There was a Cambridge lecturer wearing a massive black horse head, but it wasn't him who lectured us about this new world. It was a wolf-cat and a boxer (dog). How fascinating!
We left in awe after three pints, cause there was stuff we had to do.
We had to go shirt and tie shopping, cause we meant to shane* up for a fancy dress party that night. Worked quite well, we ended up looking ace! And very Shane. Luckily we were wearing safety goggles with our suits to safe us from the ridicule of all the lesbians who walk the streets of London every night just to roll their eyes at baby dykes trying to look like Shane McCutcheon or whatever her last name is.
Gives the word "safety goggles" a whole new meaning.
Anyway, we had cocktails and more beer, cheap chicken noodles and more beer and then went to dance with other masqueraded people in a sauna and then drink more at Nic's place and be a bit terrible and then I think it was 1pm on Sunday and we finally fell asleep while putting our shoes on to go to the pub.
It is Thursday now and after a little lie in today I feel like I have recovered from the weekend, eventually.
Yesterday Ros and I booked our flights to Germanland, for the end of February/beginning of March. I can't wait! Especially because it's Fasnacht and that is one of the times when I like Konstanz best. I am looking forward to seeing my folks, too and hopefully a lot of my friends. My poor brother will write his Abitur (his A levels...) the week after and will probably sit around in his carnival costume all week and study maths and chemistry. I wish I was a bit more use as an older sister, but I am rubbish at both those subjects and he says he doesn't need help with English. Ah well, I'll be drunk anyway...
* Random The L Word reference no one ungay is supposed to understand.
Thursday 27 January 2011
Wednesday 19 January 2011
Royal Doll Houses
One of the good things about London is that all (well most of the) museums are free! So even if you have NOMONEYATALL cause your wallet got stolen, there's still things to do on your day off.
When I came to London first I had NOMONEYATALL as well, and also I thought I had 3 days to see as much stuff as possible, cause who knows if I'll ever come back to London! That was in August 2009 and in those 3 days back then I managed to pay a visit to the Tate Modern, the British Museum, the Museum of London, the National Gallery, the National Portrait Gallery, the Museum of Natural History and the V&A. Quite impressive, seeing as I had no money for buses or tubes and walked from one museum to the next on my own two blistered feet...
So yesterday I decided to add another London Museum to that list and walked to Bethnal Green where the Museum of Childhood is to be found. Megan, the American, came with me to make it a bit more fun.
The Museum of Childhood is full of children and art students. The exhibits are mostly toys, contemporary ones as well as medieval ones. It doesn't sound very exciting and it probably really isn't, but there's some treasures to be found, that might well light up your day. Like "Dusty", a "Fashion Action Doll" a la Barbie from the 70s, which was displayed in her softball costume. "Dusty the Softball Champion! - the favourite of every little lesbian!
And then all the toys you played with yourself when you were little and have long forgotten about!
I personally enjoyed the massive doll houses that used to belong to princesses and other spoilt little brats. They're about as big as my bedroom when I was a child, but very, very beautiful.
It reminded me of all the old doll houses my mum still has standing around in the basement that we've been meaning to clean, fix and decorate for years. We have boxes full of gift wrap which we were going to use as wallpaper and old cloths which were going to be carpets. Maybe one day, ey... When finished we could probably sell them for a tenner on a flea market, so it's well worth giving it a try!
Anyway, the toys were followed by beers, first a couple of pints with Megan in a scruffy old men pub on Bethnal Green Rd, which apparently is now one of Megan's favourites, cause "if it didn't look like an old English pub it could be American!", and then a couple of more pints with Eva in the Oak. Was really nice catching up with both of them, but now I have a headache.
When I came to London first I had NOMONEYATALL as well, and also I thought I had 3 days to see as much stuff as possible, cause who knows if I'll ever come back to London! That was in August 2009 and in those 3 days back then I managed to pay a visit to the Tate Modern, the British Museum, the Museum of London, the National Gallery, the National Portrait Gallery, the Museum of Natural History and the V&A. Quite impressive, seeing as I had no money for buses or tubes and walked from one museum to the next on my own two blistered feet...
So yesterday I decided to add another London Museum to that list and walked to Bethnal Green where the Museum of Childhood is to be found. Megan, the American, came with me to make it a bit more fun.
The Museum of Childhood is full of children and art students. The exhibits are mostly toys, contemporary ones as well as medieval ones. It doesn't sound very exciting and it probably really isn't, but there's some treasures to be found, that might well light up your day. Like "Dusty", a "Fashion Action Doll" a la Barbie from the 70s, which was displayed in her softball costume. "Dusty the Softball Champion! - the favourite of every little lesbian!
And then all the toys you played with yourself when you were little and have long forgotten about!
I personally enjoyed the massive doll houses that used to belong to princesses and other spoilt little brats. They're about as big as my bedroom when I was a child, but very, very beautiful.
It reminded me of all the old doll houses my mum still has standing around in the basement that we've been meaning to clean, fix and decorate for years. We have boxes full of gift wrap which we were going to use as wallpaper and old cloths which were going to be carpets. Maybe one day, ey... When finished we could probably sell them for a tenner on a flea market, so it's well worth giving it a try!
Anyway, the toys were followed by beers, first a couple of pints with Megan in a scruffy old men pub on Bethnal Green Rd, which apparently is now one of Megan's favourites, cause "if it didn't look like an old English pub it could be American!", and then a couple of more pints with Eva in the Oak. Was really nice catching up with both of them, but now I have a headache.
Thursday 13 January 2011
Random
Met the American on Monday. You know, I mentioned her once... the Treehouse girl from Finsbury Park! We've been meeting up for coffees and pints a few times, which is nice. She has crazy stories to tell, cause she's been around quite a bit, despite her young age, and also she knows everything about fake IDs (could do with one now, thinking about it), softball and fast food restaurants. Has introduced me to the wonders of Nando's and Chipotle, like a proper Oklahoman girl! I love clichees.
Apart from that not much has happened, but I thought I'd give you an update anyhow.
I saw the laundrette man yesterday. I walked past his shop and he waved coyly. He won't be part of this blog anymore, you see, just before christmas Loreena MacKennit bought a washing machine. It is very sad and I miss him dearly, but not enough to pay 4 quid and wash my own laundry at his, just for a rant about the weather and 20 minutes of Coronation street on the tiny telly behind his counter.
Someone else I - hopefully - won't have to write about anymore this year is Denva. He seems to have given up on stalking me, so there's good news!
Today I am off work and I have lots of plans that involve banks, police stations and Chinese noodles. So I better get going. *loads gun and puts on mask* Toodles!
Apart from that not much has happened, but I thought I'd give you an update anyhow.
I saw the laundrette man yesterday. I walked past his shop and he waved coyly. He won't be part of this blog anymore, you see, just before christmas Loreena MacKennit bought a washing machine. It is very sad and I miss him dearly, but not enough to pay 4 quid and wash my own laundry at his, just for a rant about the weather and 20 minutes of Coronation street on the tiny telly behind his counter.
Someone else I - hopefully - won't have to write about anymore this year is Denva. He seems to have given up on stalking me, so there's good news!
Today I am off work and I have lots of plans that involve banks, police stations and Chinese noodles. So I better get going. *loads gun and puts on mask* Toodles!
Sunday 9 January 2011
The Tale of the Catwalker (or the dangerousness of London)
I don't think I ever told you about the man with the dogs and the cat. I met him one sunny morning in early September, when I was sitting on Ros' window sill, pissed off my face. He walked his four dogs and a cat and we had a little chat, which I don't remember a thing about. All I know is that after the chat I told my cousin I would stay in London for good.
Ros saw him the other day, walking his dogs, but no cat, down Goulton Rd. That is most wonderful!
Because it means he is real and I didn't just imagine him in my drunken state. And I was very, very drunken that morning, cause I'd been sitting there on the window sill the whole bloody night, drinking one can of Red Stripe after the other, only leaving it to go to the off license to buy more beer.
I think it just took about 10 litres of booze for me to get up the courage to make a decision like that. And now I am here, a little proud that I went through with it when I had sobered up. And very happy.
I sometimes wish I could remember what the Catwalker said to me that morning, but secretly I'm glad I don't, cause it was probably something really boring and meaningless. Anyway, I blame the Catwalker for now being here and also for always having to stay here. Forever. Cause...
I got my wallet stolen on Thursday. It had all the important things in it. ID card, bank cards (3), 100 euro I stupidly carried around all the time for no reason. Student ID, bahncard, insurance cards.
I went on the homepage of the German embassy in London and now listen to this: It's not possible to get a new ID card there. I have to fly to Germany to get a new one. In order to fly to Germany I obviously need an ID card, tho. Or a passport, if I don't have one. So I have to get a fucking passport from the embassy, fly to Germany, apply for a new ID card and then pick it up three weeks later. Or I could wait until 2013, of course, cause THEN it will be possible to get ID cards in embassies all over the world. Am still considering the options. Maybe I'll just apply for the British citizenship.
Am also thinking about using the occasion to get my name changed.
So right now I am utterly broke and without identity in dangerous, dangerous London. Luckily I have a Ros, who feeds me until I have access to my money again. Unfortunately, though, Ros got her bag stolen on Friday. It is a truly dangerous city, this.
We all were in an old man pub in Dalston to see The Dim play, which was fun. A man in a stripy jumper made us all waltz around with him and an old woman invited me into her toilet cubicle for a line of cocaine. And then the bag was gone and two friends of Ros' got beaten up by three teenage girls in Ugg boots and that, obviously, wasn't fun anymore.
To get over the shocks of one stolen wallet and two stolen bags and lots of bruises and other injuries, Ros and me decided to have a quiet Saturday and so left the house in the afternoon to go for a walk in Hampstead Heath. First, tho, we decided to pop over to Hammersmith, where Zuzana had her leaving party, cause she'll go travelling for a while. Has a one way ticket to Argentina booked and who knows when I will see her again, so that was quite important to me, to say goodbye to her.
The house that party took place in was M.E.N.T.A.L. Never seen anything like it in my life. the owners were on holidays in Kenya. They missed a good party!
The walk in fridge was full of boozes and so was the morgue like freezer. The magic kitchen, where you touch a wall and a door opens was full of lovely food and the 5 bathrooms (one of which had walls that were one single mirror) full of vomiting people!
Ros and I didn't stay too long, cause Ros' friend Bree, who is an amazing cook, had invited us for dinner to her house, which was just up the road. So we went there, ate lovely food and drank lovely wine and got all silly in the heads and ended up hiding under the bed and in wardrobes and smearing dog poo all over the house.
When the house was all brown and smelly, we decided to leave. But instead of going back to Hackney we got some beers at the off license and went back to the mental house where Zuzana and her friends were still partying. Then things get blurry. Something about tumbleweed and lions. Passed out on the floor at around 6 am this morning.
Long story short: London is still fun and amazing! Thank you, Mr Catwalker.
Ros saw him the other day, walking his dogs, but no cat, down Goulton Rd. That is most wonderful!
Because it means he is real and I didn't just imagine him in my drunken state. And I was very, very drunken that morning, cause I'd been sitting there on the window sill the whole bloody night, drinking one can of Red Stripe after the other, only leaving it to go to the off license to buy more beer.
I think it just took about 10 litres of booze for me to get up the courage to make a decision like that. And now I am here, a little proud that I went through with it when I had sobered up. And very happy.
I sometimes wish I could remember what the Catwalker said to me that morning, but secretly I'm glad I don't, cause it was probably something really boring and meaningless. Anyway, I blame the Catwalker for now being here and also for always having to stay here. Forever. Cause...
I got my wallet stolen on Thursday. It had all the important things in it. ID card, bank cards (3), 100 euro I stupidly carried around all the time for no reason. Student ID, bahncard, insurance cards.
I went on the homepage of the German embassy in London and now listen to this: It's not possible to get a new ID card there. I have to fly to Germany to get a new one. In order to fly to Germany I obviously need an ID card, tho. Or a passport, if I don't have one. So I have to get a fucking passport from the embassy, fly to Germany, apply for a new ID card and then pick it up three weeks later. Or I could wait until 2013, of course, cause THEN it will be possible to get ID cards in embassies all over the world. Am still considering the options. Maybe I'll just apply for the British citizenship.
Am also thinking about using the occasion to get my name changed.
So right now I am utterly broke and without identity in dangerous, dangerous London. Luckily I have a Ros, who feeds me until I have access to my money again. Unfortunately, though, Ros got her bag stolen on Friday. It is a truly dangerous city, this.
We all were in an old man pub in Dalston to see The Dim play, which was fun. A man in a stripy jumper made us all waltz around with him and an old woman invited me into her toilet cubicle for a line of cocaine. And then the bag was gone and two friends of Ros' got beaten up by three teenage girls in Ugg boots and that, obviously, wasn't fun anymore.
To get over the shocks of one stolen wallet and two stolen bags and lots of bruises and other injuries, Ros and me decided to have a quiet Saturday and so left the house in the afternoon to go for a walk in Hampstead Heath. First, tho, we decided to pop over to Hammersmith, where Zuzana had her leaving party, cause she'll go travelling for a while. Has a one way ticket to Argentina booked and who knows when I will see her again, so that was quite important to me, to say goodbye to her.
The house that party took place in was M.E.N.T.A.L. Never seen anything like it in my life. the owners were on holidays in Kenya. They missed a good party!
The walk in fridge was full of boozes and so was the morgue like freezer. The magic kitchen, where you touch a wall and a door opens was full of lovely food and the 5 bathrooms (one of which had walls that were one single mirror) full of vomiting people!
Ros and I didn't stay too long, cause Ros' friend Bree, who is an amazing cook, had invited us for dinner to her house, which was just up the road. So we went there, ate lovely food and drank lovely wine and got all silly in the heads and ended up hiding under the bed and in wardrobes and smearing dog poo all over the house.
When the house was all brown and smelly, we decided to leave. But instead of going back to Hackney we got some beers at the off license and went back to the mental house where Zuzana and her friends were still partying. Then things get blurry. Something about tumbleweed and lions. Passed out on the floor at around 6 am this morning.
Long story short: London is still fun and amazing! Thank you, Mr Catwalker.
Wednesday 5 January 2011
Eleven
HAPPY NEW YEAR, everyone! 5 days into 2011, already... They were boozey and sneezey days.
New Years I spent in bed, with a cold and a headache and feeling so miserable that all my attempts to drink any kind of alcohol failed miserably. Just before midnight I got my achy bones out of bed, though, and climbed up to the roof with 5 drunken people to watch some fireworks. Beautiful! I could hear Dick van Dyke whisper into my ear... "On the roof tops of London... Coooo, what a sight..."...
Twenty minutes later I was asleep - not quite as rock and roll as the other volunteers, who went partying in Shoreditch and didn't get to bed until 6 in the morning!
Also I spent the last four days in pain. My teeth hurt. I NEVER have tooth ache. I didn't even know what that felt like until... well... 2011. And now, look at this, I live in England. Where everything healthcare is free, apart from dentists - of course. It is very unfair, cause I also went to a free dentist in Germany only a month ago and then nothing was wrong with me at all, but I will stop complaining now.
It is a new year and that means: make new plans. I shall start thinking about what I want to do next, what kind of jobs to look for and for when. I told Loreena MacKennit I'd stay with her until April, but after that, I don't know. That means that half my Shad time is over already. That was quick! I am getting excited. I really hope I will find a proper little boring job with a desk in an office where no one expects me to work any weekends at all. 9-5. That sort of thing.
And then maybe I'll also find a little, cheap room somewhere. Somewhere less far away from the Pembury Tavern than Tooting Broadway. I'm sure I'll find something affordable. I don't need much space, cause all I have in this country is three books, a toothbrush and a monkey-frog named Jacques Chirac. And he's only tiny. Also I am used to mice and slugs in the kitchen, open fires in the bathroom, no heating at all and regular bomb scares. The places I have lived in during the past 5 years, I can tell you...
I am looking forward to it all. Taking the next little steps on my how-to-be-British ladder. Drink more tea. Find a football club to support. Drop Ts. Register with a dentist. You name it.
New Years I spent in bed, with a cold and a headache and feeling so miserable that all my attempts to drink any kind of alcohol failed miserably. Just before midnight I got my achy bones out of bed, though, and climbed up to the roof with 5 drunken people to watch some fireworks. Beautiful! I could hear Dick van Dyke whisper into my ear... "On the roof tops of London... Coooo, what a sight..."...
Twenty minutes later I was asleep - not quite as rock and roll as the other volunteers, who went partying in Shoreditch and didn't get to bed until 6 in the morning!
Also I spent the last four days in pain. My teeth hurt. I NEVER have tooth ache. I didn't even know what that felt like until... well... 2011. And now, look at this, I live in England. Where everything healthcare is free, apart from dentists - of course. It is very unfair, cause I also went to a free dentist in Germany only a month ago and then nothing was wrong with me at all, but I will stop complaining now.
It is a new year and that means: make new plans. I shall start thinking about what I want to do next, what kind of jobs to look for and for when. I told Loreena MacKennit I'd stay with her until April, but after that, I don't know. That means that half my Shad time is over already. That was quick! I am getting excited. I really hope I will find a proper little boring job with a desk in an office where no one expects me to work any weekends at all. 9-5. That sort of thing.
And then maybe I'll also find a little, cheap room somewhere. Somewhere less far away from the Pembury Tavern than Tooting Broadway. I'm sure I'll find something affordable. I don't need much space, cause all I have in this country is three books, a toothbrush and a monkey-frog named Jacques Chirac. And he's only tiny. Also I am used to mice and slugs in the kitchen, open fires in the bathroom, no heating at all and regular bomb scares. The places I have lived in during the past 5 years, I can tell you...
I am looking forward to it all. Taking the next little steps on my how-to-be-British ladder. Drink more tea. Find a football club to support. Drop Ts. Register with a dentist. You name it.
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