Camden Town, Where the Rough Lay Down

So after a bit of consideration, I have decided to keep my blog public after all, at least for the time being. Should I decide to change my mind again in the future, which may very well happen, I will hang onto the list of you that have expressed the desire to be kept in the loop. Thank you all for having lives boring enough to live through mine.

Since I last updated, I have had several personal little victories that are worth mentioning:

I...

1. ...met someone named Nigel.
2. ...was asked for directions on the street, and gave them successfully (and in a British accent -- it avoids the endless questions about America)
3. ...paid for treats in all coins -- withOUT having to read what each coin amount was
4. ...understood the trash talk of a couple French girls who apparently didn't think Kate and I looked lovely after having run through Hyde Park and also apparently didn't know I speak French.

Not too much else has happened since my Wednesday trip to Stonehenge and Bath. On Saturday, Kate and I went to Camden market, which is similar to Portobello market in that it's a street lined with booths of all sorts. In Camden, apparently, we'd found the punk/goth center of London -- there were more gauged ears, nose rings, and purple pleather jackets than you'd find at a Slipknot concert. A sign on a building advertising Camden real estate donned the slogan "Camden Town -- Where the Rough Lay Down." We really knew we'd found our new favorite place when the first booth we saw exclusively sold studded collars. After wandering the market, recognizing full well that we had both acquired a faint smell of pot, we saw a double decker bus stop, and, not knowing its destination, impulsively hopped on. We rode around on the top level of the double decker for a while, enjoying traveling through the city not underground. It is so beautiful here.

Sunday, though our usual route on the tube was under construction, we actually got to church on time -- nay, early! It was a very long day still.

Yesterday, I found myself in a pensive and reclusive mood, so I spent a pleasant day alone. I ran errands, then, finding the weather ideal, I threw on a jacket and strolled through Hyde Park, soaking up the beauty of the day. I eventually made my way to a bench, where I sat and wrote in my journal and read Northanger Abbey. When I got hungry, I headed to Cafe Diana, where I'd say I'm officially a regular, and enjoyed a nice almond croissant and some fresh mint tea. Though I really like the friends I have made here and enjoy taking trips with them, I find it very pleasureable to spend some days in peaceful and undisturbed solitude. In the evening, I went with a couple of girls to their ward's YSA FHE. It was fun to spend the night with native Londoners who found it really hilarious the way we said "water."

A new favorite amusement for me is reading the London Paper, a free "newspaper" that's handed out near tube stations. It's completely sensationalist journalism, but it's entertaining enough to read on long tube rides. Yesterday, I read a splendid article on London young men spending their severance packages on plastic surgery to increase their odds at finding a new job. The article actually mentioned men wanting to get rid of their "man boobs," and also later referred to them as "moobs." Fantastic.

I don't really have any great pictures to post, but I should have some Wednesday after our trip to Winchester. My next mission here is to find a nice place to get a haircut that's within my price range. (Kate also needs to find someone to "bang her trims." Nice, Kate.) Other goals to accomplish soon are going through the Charles Dickens museum, visiting the Sylvia Plath properties, going to The Sound of Music, and seeing Revolutionary Road which comes to theatres this weekend. Peace out, babies!