Well, today is the day – time to go back to reality (slowly, since we won’t have the kids until tomorrow). Got up around 4:30, still limping and hurting. Went outside, came back, drank coffee….you know the whole bit by … Continue reading
So I drifted off earlier and forgot what I was going to say. Still can’t remember. It’s almost 3 am here so I’m finally adapting to the time change. Seriously, I get up at random hours of the night at home and stay up. Never been diagnosed with insomnia or anything like that though. Anyway, nothing like having a hot cup of instant coffee 2 hours before you planned to get up. Par for the course. So, let me see if I can jog my memory about yesterday some more. (I said that if I publish this later, that I would fix it, but I probably won’t. Just a warning.)
Actually, I’m trying to remember two days ago. More walking, more sightseeing and some pictures. Going through those pics, I didn’t take a lot except for the Changing of the Guard. Interesting and we can say that we saw it in real time. But it kinda took a while. Standing in one place is tiring (I don’t know how the hell they do that), so there were a couple of times I almost nodded off (yes, while standing) and became dizzy and thought I would take a header down the marble steps of the Queen Victoria Memorial. Ernie kept a good grip on me though, so I made it out okay. Afterward, we walked through St. James Park, which was quite beautiful.
I think we came back to the hotel for a short time and then we set off for Bond Street. Now, I knew in my head that all of the designer places were going to be expensive, some even extremely so. I didn’t really take any pictures there. I was too enthralled with all of the names – Chanel, Dior, Van Cleef and Arpels, Prada….Christ, they have a four-floor Victoria’s Secret, with one floor being a lounge (I guess for the guys. Dunno.)! I saw some very beautiful things that I so wanted, including this fabulous purse at Chanel. One of the employees informed me, very kindly, that it cost over £4,000 and I only hoped that my eyes did not betray my mouth at that moment. We left there and went to Alexander McQueen. There was a small floral 3-D purse that was over £1400. It had matching shoes too! I was in shopper’s heaven and hell.
I stopped going into some stores because it was plain depressing. But we did stop at Tiffany’s and Ernie bought me a pair of sunglasses. Not sure if they were the exact kind I wanted years ago, but I love them and finally got a pair. We stopped in Coach (more in our price range) and I found this pretty mini bag that I had wanted earlier, but as I perused the store some more, Ern in tow, I looked at others – each bag getting cheaper, but I convinced myself not to get one. I think Ernie was in my head at the time as well. Needless to say, it wasn’t a fabulous shopping trip (except for Tiffany’s), because I knew these shops would be expensive, but I got a rude awakening each time I went into a store. There are still plans to go into Christian Louboutin in Paris, but we’ll see how that goes. Not getting my hopes up again.
We stopped at this pub on a side street and I had some fish and chips and he had some kind of steak and ale pie. It wasn’t bad and I got another thing checked off my list of places to experience – an English pub. I don’t remember doing much after that – a little more walking and the Tube. We came back to the room early, ordered room service and crashed.
As for yesterday, I already said that we went to Westminster Abbey. Did some souvenir shopping at their store and off we went on foot to places unknown. Took the Tube to a station closer to the Tower Bridge and crossed that twice. We took a walk by the River Thames (where I made a joke about being back at home) and just kept walking and taking everything in. Oh, yeah – before we went across the bridge, we stopped at the Tower of London shop and I bought a few trinkets. While I was shopping, Ernie was sitting around waiting and got shat upon by a bird. Quite amusing, at least to me. Then, after we crossed the river a couple of times, we went back to walking aimlessly around the city. Ernie wanted to go to Fleet Street but he didn’t realize how far that actually was, so that never happened.
By now, everyone was on their way home from work and the pubs were crawling with people. So much so, that they spilled out onto the sidewalks, where they just stood and drank. It was just something I wasn’t really used to seeing. It amazed me. We were going to join in, but I was getting a bit cranky by then, so we headed back to the hotel to regroup.
We ended up having dinner at the Caxton again (which we did when we first arrived at the hotel). I got dressed up, which was the wrong thing to do because my feet were swollen from the walking and I wedged them into platform heels. The pain was astounding. Anyway, we sat in the lounge area, instead of the bar, this time, which was really nice and sort of romantic because it was just quaint and dimly lit. After days of prodding Ernie to do a shot, he relented and we had some Jameson’s. Cheers!
Once we were done, I sent him off to get some Cokes, which was stupid, because he was buzzing and ended up down by the river. (I wondered why it took him so long when there was a store right down the street.). And that was about it for the last few days. Will I keep up with the walking when I get back home? Probably not. But it’s not so bad doing it here since there is just so much to see.
Oh, I forgot to mention that I had mistaken the Houses of Parliament (aka The Palace of Westminster) for Westminster Abbey. Ernie got a good laugh out of that one.
This place is just so crazy-busy but Ernie’s being a trooper, even though I think these people (any and/or all) are annoying to him. I could be wrong. I guess we both had our own great expectations on different things.
Well, since I fell asleep again a few hours ago when I picked up writing again, it’s time for me to go get ready. I’m hoping the rain holds out, but with my luck, it’ll be a downpour through most of the day. I have to get to Abbey Road, dammit! I have to cross that street! Although, after much thinking, I’m going to leave my shoes on like 3 of the Beatles did, have a smoke in one hand like Paul, wear a black coat like Ringo, wear jeans like George and have a pair of (sun)glasses on like John. Here’s to hoping all goes well on my “big” photo shoot and that I don’t get run over…
Wait, forgot to mention the car crash we saw outside of Northall Restaurant (which was absolutely divine – and I never use that word). All you heard was CRUNCH! and then the one driver jumped out, yelling god knows what. The things you see, oh, the places you’ll go….
In doing some research (aka self-teaching), I came across a line about blogging that stuck in my head. It basically said that just writing about random daily thoughts is not the key to a successful blog. Well, for one, success, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. But two, I’m a random-thought person. It keeps me and people around me on our toes.
Could I do a how-to kind of blog? Possibly. But I’m a lazy fuck. I might come up with a life hack here and there, but nothing to write home about. Should I write about my 15 years of experience working in a library? I suppose, but it’s been a few years since I’ve been there and I don’t know if or how the dynamic has changed. What about my early years of drunken debauchery? Shit. Everyone does that now (although I dreamed for years to do a Chelsea Handler-style book – before hers came out – because some of my stories are pretty fucking awesome. Others may be more of cautionary tales though, like the one about The Girl vs. The Dodge Dakota.) How about the life of a bipolar mom? I have a better chance with that one, but not all of my thoughts are about either or both of those things. It is a niche, for sure, and there’s no saying whether or not my blog will ultimately go that route. I’m still feeling my way around the blogosphere. Maybe one of my readers has an idea of what road I should follow. Who knows?
In the meantime, why can’t I just be my random self and see where it goes? Ha! I can! It’s my fucking blog! (This is where I put my slippered foot down with some force.) And yes, I have the mouth of a sailor. Hence the warning of a blog title. Hopefully, you won’t hold that against me.