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rmI've arrived in London.
The computer system at the 5-star hotel (which means good service by men in funny hats) is down, so checking in was a bit complex.
Also, Canary Wharf is a giant maze of wacky, made only slightly better by my wandering around in it lost singing "My Boy Builds Coffins," which should give you something of an indicator on what the flight over was like.
Speaking of, I have tales and tales and tales from the flight over (involving a very, very chatty girl who thought we were exactly alike... um, yeah, no), but that's for later.
When the tales were not transpiring though, I watched a random episode of Being Human, which I had never seen before. It was great (and Russell Tovey is scrumptious), but I'm not actually sure I'm going to be able to watch the show. It was the first episode of season 2 and you know the whole experiment on the werewolf in the pressurized chamber? Welcome to my one triggery-ish sort of thing. There is something about film scenes (it's fine in books) of medical experimentation on humans that produces in me a reaction I can't even described, but I get itchy and shifty in my seat and think about it for days. I had the same thing happen after V for Vendetta, and it was that night I got my first obvious celiac symptoms -- for the first week, I thought I was just reacting to the film. And I'd say, "I can't watch that sort of thing" but I'm compelled to understand my reaction, which is neither fear nor fascination, but something weird and visceral that feels like forgotten truth. So uh, if someone could weigh in on how much more stuff like that there is in the series, that would be good. I'm assuming a lot.
Then I watched the second half of "The End of Time" because that seemed appropriate. Most appropriate? I fell asleep after the seen of Ten gagged and woke up again for the scene with Jack and Alonso, because I am awesome like that. Those were the only two reasons I was watching anyway.
Meanwhile, the stone still hasn't passed.
Also, on a whim, I emailed the most famous tattoo shop in London a couple of days ago to see if they could fit me in to get a tattoo I've been planning for a while, since this trip seemed appropriate to the occasion. It takes months to get an appointment at this place. Months! They just emailed. They can fit me in. So I'm heading over there in a bit to talk to them about it, so maybe maybe.
First, food, beverage and the Imperial War Museum. Tonight, working on resisting going to an outdoor concert with fireworks at Kew Gardens as I absolutely must work on my response paper and eat chicken dopiazza instead.
London misses Patty and so do I.
The computer system at the 5-star hotel (which means good service by men in funny hats) is down, so checking in was a bit complex.
Also, Canary Wharf is a giant maze of wacky, made only slightly better by my wandering around in it lost singing "My Boy Builds Coffins," which should give you something of an indicator on what the flight over was like.
Speaking of, I have tales and tales and tales from the flight over (involving a very, very chatty girl who thought we were exactly alike... um, yeah, no), but that's for later.
When the tales were not transpiring though, I watched a random episode of Being Human, which I had never seen before. It was great (and Russell Tovey is scrumptious), but I'm not actually sure I'm going to be able to watch the show. It was the first episode of season 2 and you know the whole experiment on the werewolf in the pressurized chamber? Welcome to my one triggery-ish sort of thing. There is something about film scenes (it's fine in books) of medical experimentation on humans that produces in me a reaction I can't even described, but I get itchy and shifty in my seat and think about it for days. I had the same thing happen after V for Vendetta, and it was that night I got my first obvious celiac symptoms -- for the first week, I thought I was just reacting to the film. And I'd say, "I can't watch that sort of thing" but I'm compelled to understand my reaction, which is neither fear nor fascination, but something weird and visceral that feels like forgotten truth. So uh, if someone could weigh in on how much more stuff like that there is in the series, that would be good. I'm assuming a lot.
Then I watched the second half of "The End of Time" because that seemed appropriate. Most appropriate? I fell asleep after the seen of Ten gagged and woke up again for the scene with Jack and Alonso, because I am awesome like that. Those were the only two reasons I was watching anyway.
Meanwhile, the stone still hasn't passed.
Also, on a whim, I emailed the most famous tattoo shop in London a couple of days ago to see if they could fit me in to get a tattoo I've been planning for a while, since this trip seemed appropriate to the occasion. It takes months to get an appointment at this place. Months! They just emailed. They can fit me in. So I'm heading over there in a bit to talk to them about it, so maybe maybe.
First, food, beverage and the Imperial War Museum. Tonight, working on resisting going to an outdoor concert with fireworks at Kew Gardens as I absolutely must work on my response paper and eat chicken dopiazza instead.
London misses Patty and so do I.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-08 03:53 pm (UTC)What I really like about Being Human is how it is way more realistic on tackling the Masquerade trope. George and Mitchell have jobs as hospital orderlies in order to keep a low profile, and there is very little that is flashy or glamorous among the lives of the supernaturals that you see in the series. Not an Edward to be seen...
no subject
Date: 2010-07-08 03:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-09 02:07 am (UTC)Then I realized you probably meant the Meyer books (Stephanie Meyer?) with the glittery vampires.