Mischief Managed
Dec. 8th, 2006 08:35 pmI have finished my Christmas shopping! (Well, almost.) I have finished my Christmas shopping and the presents are awesome and I bravely braved the wilds of Harrods, which might as well be Disneyland as re-imagined by the people who write SkyMall catalogues. I ooohed at the Egyptian escalator; I walked past ancient maps, full riding tack, and small enamel boxes worth more than my computer.
When I had my fill of the "imagine life as the sort of person who does all her shopping here (or rather as a servant of someone, the servant who is sent to do all the shopping)" game, I bought a spectacularly good meat pie (and was sneered at across a beautifully carved marble counter for not knowing in my blood where to pay, thus marking me as common), which I ate in Hyde Park while fighting off aggressive squirrels.
Then, down to the pub for a pint with Emily...followed by more shopping, the theatre museum, and a feast at the school. I thought about cramming in a showing of The Dead at the National Film Theatre, but decided I should probably pack. I then promptly lost all of the time saved by being kidnapped by my fellow students, who hauled me to a loud bar and made me promise to work on all their films when I got back (even if I had to travel to Singapore to do so). My flatmates have been similarly effusive. I have never been to summer camp, so I can not say for sure, but I suspect it is nothing like the end of summer camp. It may be a bit like hosting the Olympics.
This tourist thing is a lark; I love London now that I know I'm going home. I've been taking bus rides to random locations and walking back, even though it's usually raining.
I have trouble being at peace with things or places until I say no to them at least once, give up a few times, storm off furiously. It's like the instinct to pull right just before you make a left turn. As a teenager, I always ran the church carnival's haunted house, and it was almost ritual that I'd get angry and quit halfway through the evening, stomp around for five minutes eating candy and bitching about the absurd working conditions, and then return to happily finish off the evening with great aplomb. I am the queen of strategic feints - or, looked at another way, am someone who freaks out as an alternative to cigarette breaks. I identify with Ford Prefect and Yossarian because both of them tend to fling themselves out windows when things look bad; once through the window, they can cheerfully re-engage.
When I had my fill of the "imagine life as the sort of person who does all her shopping here (or rather as a servant of someone, the servant who is sent to do all the shopping)" game, I bought a spectacularly good meat pie (and was sneered at across a beautifully carved marble counter for not knowing in my blood where to pay, thus marking me as common), which I ate in Hyde Park while fighting off aggressive squirrels.
Then, down to the pub for a pint with Emily...followed by more shopping, the theatre museum, and a feast at the school. I thought about cramming in a showing of The Dead at the National Film Theatre, but decided I should probably pack. I then promptly lost all of the time saved by being kidnapped by my fellow students, who hauled me to a loud bar and made me promise to work on all their films when I got back (even if I had to travel to Singapore to do so). My flatmates have been similarly effusive. I have never been to summer camp, so I can not say for sure, but I suspect it is nothing like the end of summer camp. It may be a bit like hosting the Olympics.
This tourist thing is a lark; I love London now that I know I'm going home. I've been taking bus rides to random locations and walking back, even though it's usually raining.
I have trouble being at peace with things or places until I say no to them at least once, give up a few times, storm off furiously. It's like the instinct to pull right just before you make a left turn. As a teenager, I always ran the church carnival's haunted house, and it was almost ritual that I'd get angry and quit halfway through the evening, stomp around for five minutes eating candy and bitching about the absurd working conditions, and then return to happily finish off the evening with great aplomb. I am the queen of strategic feints - or, looked at another way, am someone who freaks out as an alternative to cigarette breaks. I identify with Ford Prefect and Yossarian because both of them tend to fling themselves out windows when things look bad; once through the window, they can cheerfully re-engage.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-08 10:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-10 01:28 pm (UTC)