July Recap

So, having not posted anything for over a month, you will be spared the usual narrative. Instead, I shall recap through the medium of bullet points.

- I started my three-day-a-week internship at the British Museum Press a couple of weeks ago. It's pretty much what I was expecting – trying to create publicity for new books, reorganising databases, and thrashing about in Adobe Indesign trying to make flyers. I spent most of last week trying to find groups and publications who'd be interested in the upcoming title, Nomadic Felts. You'd be surprised at just how many societies there are for that sort of thing.
Anyway, it's exactly the right sort of experience to be getting. I do wish the environment was a little faster-paced (I work best when there's a pile of work growing behind me that needs keeping on top of), but it's a small niggle. 

The Great Court at the British Museum

I've got my security pass now, which means I can wander round the museum largely unchallenged (and I now possess the secret door-code to get into the staff canteen, which is actually quite good). This grants me access to the maze of tunnels underneath the public parts of the museum; tunnels which have no directional signs, a large number of mysterious locked doors, and seem to be constantly deserted. I spent a good twenty minutes lost in them on Thursday evening when I tried to cut through to the bookshop to drop off some flyers. I somehow managed to finally emerge on the second floor on the other side of the museum. Naturally, the bookshop was closed by the time I got there. Such is life.
Still, I'm enjoying it very much. It's odd to have to walk through the museum proper at least twice a day (I actually work in a smaller building next door that faces onto Russell Square), and it's very surreal to think of it as my place of work for the moment. I'm sure I'll get over it soon enough.

- Chloe is temporarily living in London whilst she does her own internship. In fact, she lives directly on the path that I have to walk along to get from the British Museum to my bus home. I see her quite a lot as a result. This is nice.

- Dancing continues to be enjoyable. I've moved from the beginners' class to the intermediate one, which is considerably more complicated and harder work as a result.
Last week I took a chunk of skin out of my foot when I stood on my own foot. I also accidentally hit one man in the head. I am a classy and well co-ordinated lady and I shall take offence if anyone says otherwise.

- My sister came to visit me for the better part of a week, seeing as she is now free from school and not yet in residence at a university. We didn't do all that much due to me being a creature of poverty, but we managed to get to the National Gallery, eat ourselves silly at the Breakfast Club on D'Arblay Street in Soho, and go see Inception at Westfield.
I really enjoyed Inception, by the way. Of late I've struggled to sit through a whole film without thinking 'Just how long is this film?' about two-thirds of the way through, but Inception easily kept me engaged throughout. Also, I would like to see more zero gravity corridor fight scenes in the future.
That said, Laura and I were mildly horrified when we watched 10 Things I Hate About You a couple of days later, and realised that the one of the men we had been gently sleazing on in Inception, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, was in fact the teenager on screen before us. Sometimes I forget that the nineties was quite a while ago now.

- Laura and I met up with Robin and Ellie and friends for a day out at the Ben & Jerry's sponsored Summer Sundae event a couple of weeks ago. There was, amongst other things, as much free ice-cream as you could want, a petting zoo, and a merry-go-round. There were also bands playing throughout the day, including Idlewild, who were enjoyable as always. The main achievement of the day was me discovering a 'sun intolerance milk' that actually stops my pasty flesh from burning in direct sunlight. Now I can go outside in the summer! Mind you, it's been raining a lot of late and the temperature has definitely dropped, so hopefully winter is creeping towards us. Then I can break out the coats and scarves again. This will make me happy. 

Awesome hair.

Robin and the greedy goat.

Laura, multitasking.

- I have been all over the BBC's Sherlock like a rash, possibly because I was reading the Holmes short stories once again not that long ago. I very much enjoyed it, and heartily approve of the casting and how they've worked the modernisation. That said, I've not been watching it for the plots, as I thought them a bit lacking. The first episode was cripplingly obvious, not in the least because there was a taxi in the background of almost every outdoor shot. Yes, I know you film a lot of it in Cardiff, Moffat, but sticking black cabs in every street scene is not the solution! A nice attempt at throwing in aspects of A Study in Scarlet. Not sure how well it went, but I don't much like that particular story anyway, so I'm not too fussed.
The second one was better, but a little weak and entirely too dependent on ninjas. The third was the best, I think. I liked Moriarty's casting.
Though I have a pet peeve that cropped up, common to many televisual/film detective stories, which I would like to air. In the last one, it was obvious that the lady's brother had murdered her MI6 husband from the moment we first saw him. Why? Because our meeting the brother served no discernible purpose. And as there is rarely room for unnecessary characters, there must be some purpose for him existing, and thus he must have done the murder. It does get on my nerves. It's more subtle in books, I think; it's easier to lose such meetings in a mass of words then it is on screen. They managed to get Moriarty in as 'Jim from IT' quite nicely, as we were allowed to assume he was there for another reason. But just happening to bump into an unnecessary brother on the doorstep? No, that isn't going to cut it. Try harder next time.
Still, I enjoyed it mostly for its characters, and look forward to the future episodes that the BBC has promised.


In other news:

- Laura has been to Mexico for a week. She is quite brown now. I hear there was tequila on tap.

- I read the rather good Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card, and liked it a lot. I was so engrossed  in it that I didn't anticipate the twist, which really should have been obvious. I guess that's good writing. Though I'm not sure I'll be reading the rest of the series. I like the story as it is.

- I have started watching True Blood. I quite like it, despite the slightly grating accents. I do not think I will be productive in the near future.

- The flat is actually clean and tidy. The end is nigh.

- I am sure I have done more this last month, but I simply cannot recall. Ah well.

Dancing and a Day Out

I should really stop procrastinating and write more. I'm rapidly falling behind. So, where did I leave off?

Ah yes, last Friday. Nearly a fortnight ago. Oops. Well, after purchasing my hula hoop, Laura and I finally gave in to Robin and Ellie's frequent invitations to join them, and we shuffled over to somewhere near Gloucester Road for the purpose of dancing.  Well, I say 'we'. Laura certainly came with me but, having somehow crippled her feet for the second time in a week, she struggled to walk as far as the venue and was in no position to actually dance. So, she watched and did some audit/tax-related homework whilst I had my first encounter with Ceroc. 

Ceroc is probably best described as a kind of Latin-style ballroom dancing. As a woman, it seems to largely involve being led around by the male partner, only vaguely remembering the moves and trying not to fall over as you are spun round and round again and again. It pretty fast-paced once you get going, not too complicated, and relatively easy to pick up (for the woman, anyway; the men have to learn all the moves properly, which a few seemed to struggle with). I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it, even if some of the music sounded like it had been stolen from the DJ on a SAGA cruise liner. I was a little concerned that I'd have a problems with being in such close proximity to strangers, particularly given my recent return to personal space issues, but it was generally okay. That said, some men could do with an friendly explanation as to the location of the waist on taller girls.
Still, it was good fun and I think I might adopt it as a hobby.

Skipping forward to Tuesday, it was both the remarkable (in many ways) return of the Boyd, and Laura's birthday. Slightly cash-strapped, she received from me a hula hoop of her own in pink and lime green, which I then decided to coat in silver glitter with Pritt Stick. This wasn't the brightest of moves, of course, as the flat is still covered in a dusting of the stuff. But never mind. I wrapped the thing in a whole roll of red paper. She opened it by smashing it over my head. 

There were also balloons, strawberry jelly in shot glasses, the latest Sherlock Holmes film, and a jaunt to Muswell Hill to fetch fish and chips from the rather excellent Toff's. On the way back I got heckled for driving too slowly by a cockney on bicycle with “Come on, my son!”. What a cockney was doing in north London, I'm not sure.

I actually ended up back at Toff's on Thursday night with Ellie, Laura, Nick and Robin. We went to a Ceroc class near Muswell Hill this time, and as it was a little nicer than Gloucester Road (and much closer) it looks like we'll be making a habit of it. Laura managed to join in too, and despite her initial misgivings, has proclaimed it to be 'The Best Fun Ever'. Then again, she does say that about quite a lot of things. Regardless, we raced up the hill en voiture afterwards for fish and chips, where we ate until nearly 11pm with some of us sat on a low wall, and others just on the pavement. We are quite classy sometimes.

On Friday morning I sauntered down to the Job Centre for my fortnightly chat and was pleased to find that the person I have to talk to is much more understanding and helpful than the one from last summer. He spent five minutes scrolling through a list of local jobs before declaring that I would not get any of them if I did apply and sending me on my way. I appreciate his efficiency. 

 

From there I headed immediately to Paddington and jumped on a train to Oxford. Enroute I passed a steam train, which saw me pressing my face against the glass like a child in a sweet shop.

I found Simon under the arrivals board, thoroughly distracted by a large pasty. A brief amble later and we found Leeanne curled up on a windowsill reading in the Classics section at Blackwells, having previously utilised the location for a nap. From there we went for lunch before visiting the Ashmolean Museum for japes. I would like to tell you about its contents in detail, but as I was in one of those moods where you just walk around looking at things without reading anything, I hardly feel qualified. I'll just say tthat the highlights for me included some Greek pottery I recognised, a copy of a statue that I got over-excited about, Lawrence of Arabia's clothes, a weaving game for children that had Simon enthralled and, most importantly, impressively tall automatic doors that went all the way up to the high ceilings over four metres above us.

When they kicked us out (we just about managed to refrain from sliding under a closing shutter whilst reaching back for our imaginary fedoras) we paid a visit to Jamie Oliver's restaurant nearby and were very impressed with the results. The price was reasonable, the food was delicious, and the service excellent (which probably explains the sizeable queue that was forming outside the door when we left). If you go, do have the chocolate brownie with raspberries and amaretto biscuit baked in. It's wonderfully decadent.
I sadly had to depart for my train at this juncture, but I had a lovely afternoon, and it was very nice indeed to hang out with my two very good friends. I look forward to the promised Nottingham barbecues when they move house.

 Once back in London, I went straight on to a pub near Mornington Crescent to rendezvous with Henry and Rose-Heather for an evening of German-orientated goth/rock/metal music. I will confess that I'm not terribly up on the German stuff, but it was still pretty enjoyable, even if it was a poor turnout and I initially felt a little out of place wearing no corset and no black at all. Ah well. It was great to catch up with the pair, and I'm hoping to hassle them more often now that they live quite close to me.

To finish the evening, I made friends with a Rastafarian man on rollerblades as I walked to get my bus home at 1am. He said that he liked my attitude, saw zeros everywhere, and was on the way to his 'office', which was apparently the entirety of Camden. You do meet some interesting people in London.