So I have successfully completed my first week in London. I've eaten fried food, drank thick beer, made new friends, took small but eventual dives into the waters of public transport, rode the Hogwarts Express, and hey, I even managed to meet up with an old friend. I can't really complain.
This week was beyond excellent in so many ways. It seems a bit stale to say, "I <3 lONDON OMG", maybe even a bit premature... I know the homesick bug bites slowly over time, but I find myself in love with this city, admiring of the culture, and in good company everywhere I go, or at least, feeling like I am.
What I like the most about London is it seems impossible to feel alone here. This place pulsates and vibrates, it moves royally during the day and slickly at night, the nights in London make you feel like they are sneaking something from your day that the sun blinds you from seeing everywhere else. From friendly bartenders to curious natives, to life-giving views, it's so comforting being here for some reason. I feel like you can never get lost in such an unfamiliar place. The feeling of being somewhere is something I'm not used to, this feeling of having somewhere to go.
But I'm not writing a travel brochure. I'm writing my experience. My experience has been good, but it's also been spiritually very strange.
Once you decide to live in another world besides the U.S.A, you start to feel like the values of the U.S.A might not necessarily be, as we are taught, the best values in the world. They are just our values. They are great values, but who says they are the best values besides other Americans? Sure we value freedom and our right to vote, and that is important,but so do the British. Their government practically works just as our does. What I've noticed is that America promises us life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, but all those things are already guaranteed to us by simply existing. Individuals will always have those rights...it's the society that takes it away. It's how people physically cooperate within themselves that makes a country truly a country, it's how their leaders lead within that construct, and I think the English have that figured out better than everyone else...the art of pursuing happiness by not getting in anyone's way...because we all have the same unalienable rights, but the British don't walk on anyone to get where they're going because of those rights.
What I mean by that is, all the stuff we idolatrously bow to, our constitutional rights, our waving flag, our right to mouth off to a McDonald's employee if we need to, seem irrelevant when living outside of the states. Like you start to feel like, "everyone should just relax" back home.These people here are not Americans, and shockingly, they are happy, maybe even happier then we are. Everyone seems less concerned with their identity as it compares to how someone else perceives it, and more concerned with what they see when they look at themselves. New York City has a pulse too, but it definitely beats to a different time than London. Londoners aren't trying to change the world, they just seem to be living in it...and happily. I don't really know how to explain this but thats the main difference I've noticed here. I haven't met too many people that say, "I moved to London because that's where the money is, that's where my , "happiness" is", they move here because it's alive. I mean really, truly alive. Like a bunch of human beings with the hospitality of a small farm boy, built a big city and got along all sharing in the same effort to be...well alive.
It's weird how young America is too. Yesterday, I took a tour of Buckingham palace and thought about how old it is. As I walked through state rooms with magnificent artwork I was baffled, just thinking about how all this precious stuff has existed for so long and it's all compacted into one tangible environment.
Today we took a tour around Oxford, and it really got me thinking. I spent the whole day looking at old church after old church. Churches that are hundreds of years old. So many geniuses were taught at Oxford, so many thoughts were created here. The blackboard Einstein wrote the theory of relativity on still sits in the basement. The place is magical, it's like the CPU of the world. People lived and died in Oxford, and they are buried within it's churches and schools, leaving their entire fortunes to the school.There is a feeling there that an old man probably feels as he takes his last breath, a feeling America is still too young and fit to understand. England has a real feeling of...slow, gradual, but beautiful aging....like wine. America is still too wide eyed and young to understand the wisdom of an aging empire, but it's a beautiful observation I've made indeed.
We walked into this Church today called Christ Church, Oxford. It has beautiful art, arched ceilings, Victorian design, stain glass windows, and tombs where people are actually buried on the floor underneath the church. It is literally hundreds of years old...there is too much history, to many politics, to ever understand it. For some reason I was standing looking around at all the art, standing on someones grave actually, having a beautiful time, and I start feeling really weird. I felt anxious at first, like I was really nervous, then I wanted to be sick, followed by a feeling of "I want to leave". Not just the church, but I want to leave, go home, back to Old Bridge, and go crawl up on the dirt road and forget this whole thing. Then, I felt so sad, and I noticed my eyes were tearing a bit. I started to walk away and I felt better as I neared the gift shop. As I sat there alone, a girl here named Tori who I've found to be really strange, but nice came up to me. She is definitely out there in alot of ways but metaphysically she is on point. She stared at me and was like "Did you feel it to?" (I swear). She continued "I have to get out of here. This place is making me feel sick, it's making me feel awful and sad for some reason". She felt the same thing in the same spot! We talked about it and laughed for ten minutes, and deducted, uh I guess there's a ghost in there or something?
As I started to feel better I realized that spiritually I'm not ready to embrace hundreds of years of life and death, depicted in art, castles, and shrines by humans, immortal monuments to the temporary specs of dust in time that sadly we all are. It's like trying to take in everything all at once when you see these masterpieces...the only way to play chess is to move each piece one at a time...the same with solving a puzzle. Too much will make you quit, not enough will leave you with not enough spaces filled in. A perfect picture doesn't happen by throwing the pieces up in the air and watching them land in perfect symmetry.
But then again, life sometimes is perfect symmetry. As I think about my life at home, my temporal life in London, and my return, I think about how symmetrical things seem, how for whatever reason I'm learning something now, and I'll take it back to whatever is waiting for me at home. Everything has been so symmetrical, so purposeful, and so obvious this year all at once.
Ok so this is a deep post, but I need a few of these to remember my trip. Everyone I've met here is really great, each contributing their own personalities to making my experience even better. I do miss my friends at home though, and I wonder if there's ever a time when me Nick Dan and Jeff are all jamming in our separate rooms at different times, unknowingly playing a song together, or something romantic and impossible like that. It's all symmetry. I think about every single person from home before I go to sleep, and it helps me drift off and continue facing this new, strange stuff with confidence, knowing that somewhere out there nicks porch is rootin for me.
Oh yeah, and I saw harry potter stuff today, like where they shot the movie and shit, it ruled.
Cheers-
Andrew
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Bangers and Mash
I've been in London for a week now, and I already feel like a Londoner. I can now navigate my way around the London Underground with ease, find the right busses back at night, and drink more than 3 English beers without passing out.
Tuesday night after my last blog, me and my friends from CEA all went to Central London to party. We were going to pregame, so I went to the liqour store and saw they had two bottles of Italian Red wine for £5. I drank that, but it turns out that is literally the worst wine you can buy.
Feeling good we took the train into Picadilly Circus, and then from there we went to Chinatown. Chinatown here is amazing, its all decked out and decorated with balloons and asian ornamanets and such all over the rafters. We went to a bar there called, "O Neills", which is an irish pub, and I think a bit of a chain around london, and I had a ...thats right brace yourself beer drinkers....a red guinesss on tap. Red Guiness is just Guiness with that Red irish flavor like killians has...tasty.
I also drank a bunch of gin and tonics. They pour all their drinks the same here it seems...two measured out shots, and then a personal bottle for you to pour of your own mixer. We had a good time there, there was a live band rockin out and multiple floors, but eventually we left in search of a new bar.
We had trouble finding a place to get into because some famous designer is in town and it is like fashion week, so you had to be dressed really nice to get into the ritzy lookin clubs, but we found a place called , "ON ANON" which let us in for £5 at the door. It was a nice place, a had a few vodka cranberries and then, well, quite frankly I was drunk.
The next morning we had a scheduled proper English Creme tea lunch at a high-end restaraunt called "Browns" in, I wanna say off Oxford Street or Picadilly Circus, but it might have been in Leicester Square...either way it wass weird. English tea done right is great, but it fucked me up. I was jittery and felt sick pretty much all day, i was overloaded with caffeine. But I counteracted that by drinking a huge pint of Stella Artois with some friends in the 300 year old pub next door, and I felt better. Served with the tea was scones. Scones in England are not like those shitty rock hard blueberry triangle shits you get at starbucks in the states, they are like hot soft biscuits, and you put jam and british creme on them....amazing. I had that and some fruitcake, and some cucumber and creamcheese sandwiches which, uh, weren't so good.
After that our group split up and I spent the day in Soho with my friend Jose and our new friend Tori. Soho is awesome, they have endless music shops, vintange clothing stores, sex shops ( lol, which we stopped in but I got freaked out and waited outside), and endless pubs and restaraunts. We made our way eventually back up to Carnaby Street, which is all neat little clothing shops, and we found TOP MAN in Oxford Circus, which sells all the British clothes british people wear for good prices. I bought a couple shirts, now I blend in.
This was a long day. We took the bus back home and my friends were preparing to go out to the Student Union (Club Sandwich) and party and meet people and such. I kinda just felt like staying in, feeling sick from the tea still and tired from walking for 5 days straight.
At about , I wanna say 10:15pm, Becca Nevins signed on and I asked her if she wanted to grab a beer. Now I have no idea how to get to her place from me, I live in Southeast London and shes all the way on the west end, and it was already 10:30 about by the time I left. So i ran to my train stop, but I couldn't byy a ticket because it only takes debit cards at night, my debit card doesnt read in the machines here. I bought a train ticket off a bum for £2 and got on. A nice British lady on the train helped me figure out the tube map and we figured I needed to take the northern line to morehead and the metro-line to farringdon. Long story short I made it to beccas in like 20 minutes. I felt accompished. We couldn't find a bar open so we grabbed some wine and drank it in front of Shakespeare' s Globe, which is just minutes from her house, and there are no open container laws here.
It was pretty cool catching up and we talked about how weird it was that two weeks ago we were hanging out on the dirt road in CP, and now we're hanging out in front of London Bridge, the millenium bridge, and the Globe theatre by the Thames River. On the way back to her apartment I asked a cop which tube I should get on to get home, and he said "oy, all the tubes are closed". Great. I didn't realize they closed at 12am and by this point it was like 3am. So after I dropped off Becca I wondered around a strange, scary part of London until I found a bus that took me to Trafalgars square, which is like the main theatre disstrict, and then from there (after hopping on 2 wrong busses) I made my way back southeast toward Lewisham. I got in at about 4, relieved to be home alive.
The next day I woke up and decided to pick out spots on the tube map by myself and see if I can get there without getting lost. I got everywhere I Needed to go no problem. I have mastered the tube. I went back to buckingham palace to take some more pictures and then I went to a pub called the "bag o nails" and had a pint of Fosters and bangers and mash. Bangers and mash are amazing. Sausages, mashed potatos, and peas, all covered in english gravy. It's the best.
I went back and we went out to O' Neills again at night. There was an irish band like dropkick murphys sort of music playing, I ordered an Amstel Light and just rocked out with my friends. The music was great, all in all it was a great night.
Today I'm sorta chillin. I might take it easy for a change. Tomorrow I am hopefully going to Greenwich with my British friend James, and Sunday is Oxford.
Cheers
Andrew
Tuesday night after my last blog, me and my friends from CEA all went to Central London to party. We were going to pregame, so I went to the liqour store and saw they had two bottles of Italian Red wine for £5. I drank that, but it turns out that is literally the worst wine you can buy.
Feeling good we took the train into Picadilly Circus, and then from there we went to Chinatown. Chinatown here is amazing, its all decked out and decorated with balloons and asian ornamanets and such all over the rafters. We went to a bar there called, "O Neills", which is an irish pub, and I think a bit of a chain around london, and I had a ...thats right brace yourself beer drinkers....a red guinesss on tap. Red Guiness is just Guiness with that Red irish flavor like killians has...tasty.
I also drank a bunch of gin and tonics. They pour all their drinks the same here it seems...two measured out shots, and then a personal bottle for you to pour of your own mixer. We had a good time there, there was a live band rockin out and multiple floors, but eventually we left in search of a new bar.
We had trouble finding a place to get into because some famous designer is in town and it is like fashion week, so you had to be dressed really nice to get into the ritzy lookin clubs, but we found a place called , "ON ANON" which let us in for £5 at the door. It was a nice place, a had a few vodka cranberries and then, well, quite frankly I was drunk.
The next morning we had a scheduled proper English Creme tea lunch at a high-end restaraunt called "Browns" in, I wanna say off Oxford Street or Picadilly Circus, but it might have been in Leicester Square...either way it wass weird. English tea done right is great, but it fucked me up. I was jittery and felt sick pretty much all day, i was overloaded with caffeine. But I counteracted that by drinking a huge pint of Stella Artois with some friends in the 300 year old pub next door, and I felt better. Served with the tea was scones. Scones in England are not like those shitty rock hard blueberry triangle shits you get at starbucks in the states, they are like hot soft biscuits, and you put jam and british creme on them....amazing. I had that and some fruitcake, and some cucumber and creamcheese sandwiches which, uh, weren't so good.
After that our group split up and I spent the day in Soho with my friend Jose and our new friend Tori. Soho is awesome, they have endless music shops, vintange clothing stores, sex shops ( lol, which we stopped in but I got freaked out and waited outside), and endless pubs and restaraunts. We made our way eventually back up to Carnaby Street, which is all neat little clothing shops, and we found TOP MAN in Oxford Circus, which sells all the British clothes british people wear for good prices. I bought a couple shirts, now I blend in.
This was a long day. We took the bus back home and my friends were preparing to go out to the Student Union (Club Sandwich) and party and meet people and such. I kinda just felt like staying in, feeling sick from the tea still and tired from walking for 5 days straight.
At about , I wanna say 10:15pm, Becca Nevins signed on and I asked her if she wanted to grab a beer. Now I have no idea how to get to her place from me, I live in Southeast London and shes all the way on the west end, and it was already 10:30 about by the time I left. So i ran to my train stop, but I couldn't byy a ticket because it only takes debit cards at night, my debit card doesnt read in the machines here. I bought a train ticket off a bum for £2 and got on. A nice British lady on the train helped me figure out the tube map and we figured I needed to take the northern line to morehead and the metro-line to farringdon. Long story short I made it to beccas in like 20 minutes. I felt accompished. We couldn't find a bar open so we grabbed some wine and drank it in front of Shakespeare' s Globe, which is just minutes from her house, and there are no open container laws here.
It was pretty cool catching up and we talked about how weird it was that two weeks ago we were hanging out on the dirt road in CP, and now we're hanging out in front of London Bridge, the millenium bridge, and the Globe theatre by the Thames River. On the way back to her apartment I asked a cop which tube I should get on to get home, and he said "oy, all the tubes are closed". Great. I didn't realize they closed at 12am and by this point it was like 3am. So after I dropped off Becca I wondered around a strange, scary part of London until I found a bus that took me to Trafalgars square, which is like the main theatre disstrict, and then from there (after hopping on 2 wrong busses) I made my way back southeast toward Lewisham. I got in at about 4, relieved to be home alive.
The next day I woke up and decided to pick out spots on the tube map by myself and see if I can get there without getting lost. I got everywhere I Needed to go no problem. I have mastered the tube. I went back to buckingham palace to take some more pictures and then I went to a pub called the "bag o nails" and had a pint of Fosters and bangers and mash. Bangers and mash are amazing. Sausages, mashed potatos, and peas, all covered in english gravy. It's the best.
I went back and we went out to O' Neills again at night. There was an irish band like dropkick murphys sort of music playing, I ordered an Amstel Light and just rocked out with my friends. The music was great, all in all it was a great night.
Today I'm sorta chillin. I might take it easy for a change. Tomorrow I am hopefully going to Greenwich with my British friend James, and Sunday is Oxford.
Cheers
Andrew
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
5 pounds.
Don't know if anyone is actually reading this, but this will probably be my most interesting post to date.
Just want to mention for my own recollection that I did go to the Hobgoblin yesterday, because they have Thai food from 4-8 and it wassss scrumptious, I don't even know what I was eating but it tasted fly...and the Heineken I sucked it down with was fresh as can be...oh yeah, did I mention imported beers taste better here?
Ok so last night I was sitting in my dorm. I can't say I actually wasted any seconds here, I've truly been letting every one of them engulf me, yano, challenging every moment to introduce me to something new, but I felt tired and I decided to stay in and do nothing. I just read the new Dan Brown book (which is OK at this point) in silence. When I woke up today, I felt guilty for my soul, and I decided I wouldn't do that again.
I had an orientation this morning which was just another British professor talking about UK education VS US, what to expect, all that, quite boring. It was ok though because before it I ate my first proper English Breakfast...sausage, tomato, bacon, a huge helping of fries, an egg, and red beans. The guy who served it to me had such an accent that we couldn't even communicate, so you know it's the bangin. Then I spent 3 hours in I.T getting them to fix my internet, just me and this old cockney British dude, and he eventually fixed it.
I walked back to my flat around 3pm, and decided it was time to explore again. Now, I don't know London at all. The prospect of wandering around the city alone is a little weird, but I said hey, why not? I knocked on my friend Kelly's door and asked her to help me map out a trip if I just got off the train at London Bridge...where would I go? We couldn't figure it out, so I said, hey, I'll just wing it.
I bought a lonely train ticket to London Bridge and rode the train, thinking about how lost I am going to get. I get lost delivering pizzas alone in Old Bridge, New Jersey, Imagine me wandering around London with no map, no friend, no nothing ( i know if Nick reads this, he'll laugh). So anyway, I got off at London Bridge, and just started walking.
I didn't realize that the London Bridge Cross (station) is alot like Penn Station in NY. There's just alot of arrowss pointing to "out" and different places. I just followed all the signs in this huge cross until I got out onto the street.
This was a part of London I'd never seen before. It wasn't really touristy, it was actually more scary. There were bums, but British bums are hilarious because when they ask you for money they say, "ex---uss-me sir but do ye have any spare pence?'... all proper and stuff. It's not like NY where they mumble something about their daughter and shove a cup in your face. After rejecting a bunch of bums, I made my way down the street. I was walking fast, it was really fast paced, people were whizzing by talking in all sorts of different languages, and for the first time on my trip I felt a little uneasy, a little alone. I felt better when I passed a Subway, and I figured that was God's way of telling me I'm never alone as long as I can still get a subway club on the other side of the Atlantic.
So I walk for 25 minutes in an unknown direction. Crossing streets, brushing past people, making it seem like I'm going somewhere. Finally I saw a sign. One arrow pointing toward some place I didn't recognize, and one that said "The Globe". Oh shit. I had forgotten that the Globe theatre is in London. Shakespeare's actual globe..the literal holy grail for english majors and nerds globally. Well I start moving down this stupid little street but it all seems very foreign. I don't really look out of place though because I look like the British with my short hair and new beard, but I feel like everyone that looks at me knows I'm American. I walk for about twenty minutes fast, getting sweaty now, seeing no signs for the globe, starting to feel lost and empty again. ( remember I don't know how to get home either). Finally I notice this fat sweaty brit is walking next to me. I look at him and say, in my most proper voice "say sir, I'm not from around here and i'm a bit lost, can you direct me to The Globe?". He smiles and goes "ARE YUUU FEMILIAR WYTHH SUFFFFULK STREEEYT?" "No", I tell him quietly, "I live in New Cross". "OH AWRIGHT THEN JUST GO DOWN STRAYGHTT UNTILL YU HYTT SUFFOLLK STREEYT AND STAYYY LEFT TILL YOU SSEEE DEM STAIRS AND THE GLOOWBE IS ON YUR LEFT I SAY". "Ok Thanks".
I walk about twenty minutes down the street. Things are picking up. It's beginning to look less scary, more metropolitan. I see business men smoking cigarettes and college kids walking around again.Then I see a bridge. I walk toward the light toward the bridge and I realize I am standing above the Thames river. The fuckin Thames!The view is extraordinary, and I cross the bridge. From the middle of the bridge I can see all of London bridge to my right, and to my left I can see the Millenium bridge, the one from the frickin postcards! I am freaking. The view is exceptional I feel completley light-weighted. So i cross to the other side of Thames but know I want to make my way back to the Millenium bridge and cross it. I get to the other side and start moving left so I can get to the Millenium Bridge( look up a pic if you haven't seen it!) As I'm walking through the city again looking for the bridge, I see ssomething ABSURD towering over my head. It is St. Paul's Cathedral, and it is the most impressive thing I have ever seen in my life. I walk a bit further to climb its steps, and put my hand on the old doors of this old church. I feel like I'm in a movie.
From here I can ssee the Millenium bridge easily. I walk over it and it is beautiful, lovers holding hands taking picturess, people just staring into the abyss of the london skyline...it's perfect. Europe is for lovers and dreamers. I get to the bridge and I'm in front of an arts museam that has a lawn and a perfect view of the thames River. It is a bit overwhelming.
I make my way left and I finally see Shakespeare's Globe, just waiting for me in plain sight. I am astounded at how far I've come by myself, and I'm standing at the foundation of everything I've ever read about or believed in. I couldn't go in because there was no play or anything, so i vowed to come back and take a tour with someone or something, but for the time being I drank a coffee in the gift shop (lol..well at least I went in). I finally saw the globe.
Anyway, I made my way back up to the green lawn overlooking the Thames,and I sat down and watched the boats drive down the river, I watched people walking on the bridge, I watched planes fly by, I stared at St. Paul's Cathedral as it towered over the other side of the skyline, and I thought..."wait a second...I'm in Europe right now"
Right next to me these young people were just making out all over the place, right in public, and they didn't seem to care, they were in their own world. For the first time in months, I felt a little envious, and jealous...I mean, imagine being in love in a place like this...in the very place where the idea of love was probably born by the romantics? It's fascinating. I felt a little lovey feeling too.
I stared at the Thames and thought about life. I thought about how I had done all of this by spending 5 pounds. I thought about how different life is right now...how precious everything is. I thought about how lucky I am to be here, in this place, experiecing a part of life some Americans will never, ever understand.
I got lost in London and wound up staring into an infinite abyss of beauty and art. I can get lost in Old Bridge and imagine the same. I've only been here four days.
I won't talk about my ride home, but it took forever and I got lost 400 times.
Like everyone says to me here,
Cheers
Andrew
Just want to mention for my own recollection that I did go to the Hobgoblin yesterday, because they have Thai food from 4-8 and it wassss scrumptious, I don't even know what I was eating but it tasted fly...and the Heineken I sucked it down with was fresh as can be...oh yeah, did I mention imported beers taste better here?
Ok so last night I was sitting in my dorm. I can't say I actually wasted any seconds here, I've truly been letting every one of them engulf me, yano, challenging every moment to introduce me to something new, but I felt tired and I decided to stay in and do nothing. I just read the new Dan Brown book (which is OK at this point) in silence. When I woke up today, I felt guilty for my soul, and I decided I wouldn't do that again.
I had an orientation this morning which was just another British professor talking about UK education VS US, what to expect, all that, quite boring. It was ok though because before it I ate my first proper English Breakfast...sausage, tomato, bacon, a huge helping of fries, an egg, and red beans. The guy who served it to me had such an accent that we couldn't even communicate, so you know it's the bangin. Then I spent 3 hours in I.T getting them to fix my internet, just me and this old cockney British dude, and he eventually fixed it.
I walked back to my flat around 3pm, and decided it was time to explore again. Now, I don't know London at all. The prospect of wandering around the city alone is a little weird, but I said hey, why not? I knocked on my friend Kelly's door and asked her to help me map out a trip if I just got off the train at London Bridge...where would I go? We couldn't figure it out, so I said, hey, I'll just wing it.
I bought a lonely train ticket to London Bridge and rode the train, thinking about how lost I am going to get. I get lost delivering pizzas alone in Old Bridge, New Jersey, Imagine me wandering around London with no map, no friend, no nothing ( i know if Nick reads this, he'll laugh). So anyway, I got off at London Bridge, and just started walking.
I didn't realize that the London Bridge Cross (station) is alot like Penn Station in NY. There's just alot of arrowss pointing to "out" and different places. I just followed all the signs in this huge cross until I got out onto the street.
This was a part of London I'd never seen before. It wasn't really touristy, it was actually more scary. There were bums, but British bums are hilarious because when they ask you for money they say, "ex---uss-me sir but do ye have any spare pence?'... all proper and stuff. It's not like NY where they mumble something about their daughter and shove a cup in your face. After rejecting a bunch of bums, I made my way down the street. I was walking fast, it was really fast paced, people were whizzing by talking in all sorts of different languages, and for the first time on my trip I felt a little uneasy, a little alone. I felt better when I passed a Subway, and I figured that was God's way of telling me I'm never alone as long as I can still get a subway club on the other side of the Atlantic.
So I walk for 25 minutes in an unknown direction. Crossing streets, brushing past people, making it seem like I'm going somewhere. Finally I saw a sign. One arrow pointing toward some place I didn't recognize, and one that said "The Globe". Oh shit. I had forgotten that the Globe theatre is in London. Shakespeare's actual globe..the literal holy grail for english majors and nerds globally. Well I start moving down this stupid little street but it all seems very foreign. I don't really look out of place though because I look like the British with my short hair and new beard, but I feel like everyone that looks at me knows I'm American. I walk for about twenty minutes fast, getting sweaty now, seeing no signs for the globe, starting to feel lost and empty again. ( remember I don't know how to get home either). Finally I notice this fat sweaty brit is walking next to me. I look at him and say, in my most proper voice "say sir, I'm not from around here and i'm a bit lost, can you direct me to The Globe?". He smiles and goes "ARE YUUU FEMILIAR WYTHH SUFFFFULK STREEEYT?" "No", I tell him quietly, "I live in New Cross". "OH AWRIGHT THEN JUST GO DOWN STRAYGHTT UNTILL YU HYTT SUFFOLLK STREEYT AND STAYYY LEFT TILL YOU SSEEE DEM STAIRS AND THE GLOOWBE IS ON YUR LEFT I SAY". "Ok Thanks".
I walk about twenty minutes down the street. Things are picking up. It's beginning to look less scary, more metropolitan. I see business men smoking cigarettes and college kids walking around again.Then I see a bridge. I walk toward the light toward the bridge and I realize I am standing above the Thames river. The fuckin Thames!The view is extraordinary, and I cross the bridge. From the middle of the bridge I can see all of London bridge to my right, and to my left I can see the Millenium bridge, the one from the frickin postcards! I am freaking. The view is exceptional I feel completley light-weighted. So i cross to the other side of Thames but know I want to make my way back to the Millenium bridge and cross it. I get to the other side and start moving left so I can get to the Millenium Bridge( look up a pic if you haven't seen it!) As I'm walking through the city again looking for the bridge, I see ssomething ABSURD towering over my head. It is St. Paul's Cathedral, and it is the most impressive thing I have ever seen in my life. I walk a bit further to climb its steps, and put my hand on the old doors of this old church. I feel like I'm in a movie.
From here I can ssee the Millenium bridge easily. I walk over it and it is beautiful, lovers holding hands taking picturess, people just staring into the abyss of the london skyline...it's perfect. Europe is for lovers and dreamers. I get to the bridge and I'm in front of an arts museam that has a lawn and a perfect view of the thames River. It is a bit overwhelming.
I make my way left and I finally see Shakespeare's Globe, just waiting for me in plain sight. I am astounded at how far I've come by myself, and I'm standing at the foundation of everything I've ever read about or believed in. I couldn't go in because there was no play or anything, so i vowed to come back and take a tour with someone or something, but for the time being I drank a coffee in the gift shop (lol..well at least I went in). I finally saw the globe.
Anyway, I made my way back up to the green lawn overlooking the Thames,and I sat down and watched the boats drive down the river, I watched people walking on the bridge, I watched planes fly by, I stared at St. Paul's Cathedral as it towered over the other side of the skyline, and I thought..."wait a second...I'm in Europe right now"
Right next to me these young people were just making out all over the place, right in public, and they didn't seem to care, they were in their own world. For the first time in months, I felt a little envious, and jealous...I mean, imagine being in love in a place like this...in the very place where the idea of love was probably born by the romantics? It's fascinating. I felt a little lovey feeling too.
I stared at the Thames and thought about life. I thought about how I had done all of this by spending 5 pounds. I thought about how different life is right now...how precious everything is. I thought about how lucky I am to be here, in this place, experiecing a part of life some Americans will never, ever understand.
I got lost in London and wound up staring into an infinite abyss of beauty and art. I can get lost in Old Bridge and imagine the same. I've only been here four days.
I won't talk about my ride home, but it took forever and I got lost 400 times.
Like everyone says to me here,
Cheers
Andrew
Monday, September 21, 2009
Just Peeess on the FLORREE Mayyyte
Ok I wanted to update this like every night but I don't have internet yet...so I'm going to try and remember my past three days in full detail right now.
My parents dropped me off at Newark Airport and it was over, there is no turning back now. As they walked away I felt a little alone, and I knew that the trip had just begun. Once I cleared all the security checkpoints and all that jazz, I wandered aimlessly through the airport until, with an hour still until my plane boards, I found an airport bar. This is where my trip begins of course.
As I sit drinking my Guiness , I looked around and realized that English football was on the T.V and everyone around me was English. Naturally, they would be on my flight. I laughed a little to myself as they tried to count out American money to pay for their beers, studying each coin like it was complicated math. Little did I know, that in about twelve hours i'd be doing the same thing everywhere I go.
The plane ride was fine...I hate planes so I focused on some happy thoughts. They have this new thing now on the planes where you have a T.V like in your seat...so I got to watch The Office and and movies, and listen to like any album I wanted on this touch screen database. That passed the time. I sat next to two old people who didn't say anything to me.
I landed and laughed because I was in Europe. Long story short I breezed through customs (they barely even looked at my passport) and i walked out into the London. I had to take the London tube, with all my luggage, and find my way to where my taxi would be picking me up. It was on the tube that I realized I was foreign, because when I asked for directions or talked to someone on the train they asked me..."are you from Canada?"
I met up with my CEA group, a bunch of really nice people from Montclair, and two British girls who were our tourguides for the day. As we drove through London in stop and go traffic i was feeling strange. I sat in the front seat, which to me was the drivers seat, and enjoyed the city passing by. The British taxi driver had like three cell phones and two GPS systems, and he was just using technology the entire time he was driving. I noticed that Kings of Leon was playing on the radio and i laughed because, a. I can't believe they are popular in England, and b. It reminded me of Caliendo's house.
So we finally get to our dorms. We are greeted by British people. (I'm finally getting used to everyone being British). A japanese kid walks me to my room. He sounds like an American so I ask him where he is from and he tells me from Japan, but now he's living here. Everyone is so diverse everyone has a different story.
My flat is more or less a dorm. I have my own room and shower, and there is a big hallway with everyone else's rooms. We all share a kitchen. None of us have pots, pans, forks, knives, or food. Actually, now that i think about it, I haven't ate anything besides sandwiches and dry cereal that I prepared myself since I left...well besides this dinner we had. My roomates are mostly American girls, but there are a few guys, one from Dallas, and one from Chicago. For some reason we didn't get any British kids, but all the other floors do.
So feeling tired i explore New Cross a little Bit. New Cross is a neat little hipster city 15 minutes by overground train outside of central London. The bars and nightlife are amazing. It is my new home. There is a bar by room called the HOBGOBLIN. I haven't gone yet, but my friends have and they say it's a big deal. Maybe Ill check it out tonight.
So long story short later that night me and my friends from my flat wanted to go out drinking. The Student Union at Goldsmiths said they were hosting a party, so we all agreed to check that out later on. First, we heard the church down the street was hosting a free buffet dinner, and we were all starving so we went.
I loved the food. As I eat at different places in England, I feel that nothing tastes liek what it looks like. For example, they had what appeared to be pizza, but when you bite into it the flavor was more sour and bitter. The food generally has the same appearence that I'm used to, but then just tastes different. I helped myself to lots of pasta and chicken with currey spices all over it. Currey is huge in England. It's actually the most traditional British spice. In the Church, they were serving tall cans of Carlsberg as the drink, so we all started getting drunk at Church and realized maybe it was time to go to the Student Union Party.
Feeling buzzed, I was in the mood to meet people. The Student center at Goldsmiths has a bar in it. Thats where everyone was. I got myself a pint of Carlsberg (i find I like this british beer the best), and started yapping with more British people then I can count. Everyone was really interested in me "whats your accent...canadian?"...."No, I'm American".."Oh Ya don't say maytee where aboutss?".... "New Jersey""..."oh great great great...wheres that?". Is usually how the conversation goes. My new British friends here seem really interested in American life. Most of them lived in small suburbs of England, and this is also their first time in a big city.
I met a girl that night from Norway and we started talking about the global recession. She kind of laughed at me when i brought up Barack Obama, saying ..."ohhh you mean suppperman?" in a sarcastic tone. She spoke Dutch, but English fluently. I told her how I was suprised at how British, Norweigan, Italian, Japanese, no matter what students i meet from here, they are usually Bilingual. It's shocking how much our American education system fails us globally. After her I met a kid who was also from Norway, and he was absolutely fascinated with "wawa".
I went to a British kid drunkenly and said "dude wheres the bathroom". He started laughing. I realized that this means "wheres the shower' around here. I re prashed myself and said "where's the lieu?" He said, "oHHHHH CMoon then Mayttee i'll tayykee you therrree right right right goooood fun". So i followed this overly enthusiastic bathroom guy to the lieu. When we walked in all I saw was a toilet, and a wall. No urinals. Then, the British kid just started pissing on the walls. I said, "what is this, what is this?". He said, "Just Peees on the FLOORREE Mayytee". I then realized that there was like some sort of drainage system on the floor. So I pissed on the walls and to quote my new British friend "it's sort of grattifying".
The next morning we woke up early and took the bus to Central London. We talk a walking tour of Picadilly Circus, which is a really famous area in London. All high class shops, and its near Oxford street, which was like the height of the beatnik hang outs in the 60s. The Beatles, the clash, and people who were just yano, into it hung around there. The shops are amazing there are so many to count. Some shops have royal symbols over them, and that is where the royal family gets their stuff. I saw the guards at Buckingham palace, but you couldn't get close enough to fuck with them. We walked to Big Ben, The House of Parliament, which also has the house of Lords. I am starting to understand how the British government works. The two houses, Parliament, which are elected democratically, and lords, who inherited their seat, debate reguarly. They vote by being in the same building, so if someone is not there, their vote does not get counted. So all the pubs by Charing Cross by Westminister Abbey have bells in them for when it's time to vote in case the official is a pub having a pint. I saw Big Ben, which was overwhelmingly impressive, and Westminister Abbey, which literally took my breath away.
We saw palaces that have been around for 1500 years, places where famous kings and queens were buried, who certain famous people slept before they were hung by the masses. There is so much history here...everything is old and beautiful and scary. Everything has a presence about it. I looked like a total tourist all gawk-eyed wandering around London. The Churchs are beautiful. Everything is great. It's so clean too, clean and old looking. Beautiful.
Later we took the overground train from Charing Cross to New Cross. I want to go back over by Charing Cross because the pubs looked EXCELLENT. It is such a happening place to be/
Oh i forgot to mention we walked through a bunch of beautiful parks, which they have just placed in the middle of crowded London.
Got home that night, made a ramen noodle dinner, and went out again. I met a British kid at the bar whose name actually escapes me right now, and me and him drank and talked about differences in our cultures all night. We talked about everything from politics to girls, to school, to parents.. He even stopped at one point and pointed out a girl and said, "do you think that girls pretty?" I said "no". He told me "well here she is considered really really hot". I said "that sucks for you" and we both started laughing. I told him how I was fascinated with how British news covers issues from all over the world. I explained how in America, we only hear about at home. Everyone I meet here knows all about American issues and politics, I am slowly learning the reverse. He was telling me about the parties in England when Obama won the election. I don't recall going to any parties when the Prime Minister changed in England last year..
So I'm having fun, traveling around, meeting people. I'm experiencing a bit of culture shock, still not used to subtle differences in just about EVERYTHING. But I am enjoying myself. I do miss Nick's porch though...
This week i just have orientations but this sunday I'm going to OXFORD. Woot woot. Also on Wed i'm going to a proper British Creme tea party and a restaurant in central, So i'll pretty excited for that. Until later. I love you all.\
Cheers
Andrew
My parents dropped me off at Newark Airport and it was over, there is no turning back now. As they walked away I felt a little alone, and I knew that the trip had just begun. Once I cleared all the security checkpoints and all that jazz, I wandered aimlessly through the airport until, with an hour still until my plane boards, I found an airport bar. This is where my trip begins of course.
As I sit drinking my Guiness , I looked around and realized that English football was on the T.V and everyone around me was English. Naturally, they would be on my flight. I laughed a little to myself as they tried to count out American money to pay for their beers, studying each coin like it was complicated math. Little did I know, that in about twelve hours i'd be doing the same thing everywhere I go.
The plane ride was fine...I hate planes so I focused on some happy thoughts. They have this new thing now on the planes where you have a T.V like in your seat...so I got to watch The Office and and movies, and listen to like any album I wanted on this touch screen database. That passed the time. I sat next to two old people who didn't say anything to me.
I landed and laughed because I was in Europe. Long story short I breezed through customs (they barely even looked at my passport) and i walked out into the London. I had to take the London tube, with all my luggage, and find my way to where my taxi would be picking me up. It was on the tube that I realized I was foreign, because when I asked for directions or talked to someone on the train they asked me..."are you from Canada?"
I met up with my CEA group, a bunch of really nice people from Montclair, and two British girls who were our tourguides for the day. As we drove through London in stop and go traffic i was feeling strange. I sat in the front seat, which to me was the drivers seat, and enjoyed the city passing by. The British taxi driver had like three cell phones and two GPS systems, and he was just using technology the entire time he was driving. I noticed that Kings of Leon was playing on the radio and i laughed because, a. I can't believe they are popular in England, and b. It reminded me of Caliendo's house.
So we finally get to our dorms. We are greeted by British people. (I'm finally getting used to everyone being British). A japanese kid walks me to my room. He sounds like an American so I ask him where he is from and he tells me from Japan, but now he's living here. Everyone is so diverse everyone has a different story.
My flat is more or less a dorm. I have my own room and shower, and there is a big hallway with everyone else's rooms. We all share a kitchen. None of us have pots, pans, forks, knives, or food. Actually, now that i think about it, I haven't ate anything besides sandwiches and dry cereal that I prepared myself since I left...well besides this dinner we had. My roomates are mostly American girls, but there are a few guys, one from Dallas, and one from Chicago. For some reason we didn't get any British kids, but all the other floors do.
So feeling tired i explore New Cross a little Bit. New Cross is a neat little hipster city 15 minutes by overground train outside of central London. The bars and nightlife are amazing. It is my new home. There is a bar by room called the HOBGOBLIN. I haven't gone yet, but my friends have and they say it's a big deal. Maybe Ill check it out tonight.
So long story short later that night me and my friends from my flat wanted to go out drinking. The Student Union at Goldsmiths said they were hosting a party, so we all agreed to check that out later on. First, we heard the church down the street was hosting a free buffet dinner, and we were all starving so we went.
I loved the food. As I eat at different places in England, I feel that nothing tastes liek what it looks like. For example, they had what appeared to be pizza, but when you bite into it the flavor was more sour and bitter. The food generally has the same appearence that I'm used to, but then just tastes different. I helped myself to lots of pasta and chicken with currey spices all over it. Currey is huge in England. It's actually the most traditional British spice. In the Church, they were serving tall cans of Carlsberg as the drink, so we all started getting drunk at Church and realized maybe it was time to go to the Student Union Party.
Feeling buzzed, I was in the mood to meet people. The Student center at Goldsmiths has a bar in it. Thats where everyone was. I got myself a pint of Carlsberg (i find I like this british beer the best), and started yapping with more British people then I can count. Everyone was really interested in me "whats your accent...canadian?"...."No, I'm American".."Oh Ya don't say maytee where aboutss?".... "New Jersey""..."oh great great great...wheres that?". Is usually how the conversation goes. My new British friends here seem really interested in American life. Most of them lived in small suburbs of England, and this is also their first time in a big city.
I met a girl that night from Norway and we started talking about the global recession. She kind of laughed at me when i brought up Barack Obama, saying ..."ohhh you mean suppperman?" in a sarcastic tone. She spoke Dutch, but English fluently. I told her how I was suprised at how British, Norweigan, Italian, Japanese, no matter what students i meet from here, they are usually Bilingual. It's shocking how much our American education system fails us globally. After her I met a kid who was also from Norway, and he was absolutely fascinated with "wawa".
I went to a British kid drunkenly and said "dude wheres the bathroom". He started laughing. I realized that this means "wheres the shower' around here. I re prashed myself and said "where's the lieu?" He said, "oHHHHH CMoon then Mayttee i'll tayykee you therrree right right right goooood fun". So i followed this overly enthusiastic bathroom guy to the lieu. When we walked in all I saw was a toilet, and a wall. No urinals. Then, the British kid just started pissing on the walls. I said, "what is this, what is this?". He said, "Just Peees on the FLOORREE Mayytee". I then realized that there was like some sort of drainage system on the floor. So I pissed on the walls and to quote my new British friend "it's sort of grattifying".
The next morning we woke up early and took the bus to Central London. We talk a walking tour of Picadilly Circus, which is a really famous area in London. All high class shops, and its near Oxford street, which was like the height of the beatnik hang outs in the 60s. The Beatles, the clash, and people who were just yano, into it hung around there. The shops are amazing there are so many to count. Some shops have royal symbols over them, and that is where the royal family gets their stuff. I saw the guards at Buckingham palace, but you couldn't get close enough to fuck with them. We walked to Big Ben, The House of Parliament, which also has the house of Lords. I am starting to understand how the British government works. The two houses, Parliament, which are elected democratically, and lords, who inherited their seat, debate reguarly. They vote by being in the same building, so if someone is not there, their vote does not get counted. So all the pubs by Charing Cross by Westminister Abbey have bells in them for when it's time to vote in case the official is a pub having a pint. I saw Big Ben, which was overwhelmingly impressive, and Westminister Abbey, which literally took my breath away.
We saw palaces that have been around for 1500 years, places where famous kings and queens were buried, who certain famous people slept before they were hung by the masses. There is so much history here...everything is old and beautiful and scary. Everything has a presence about it. I looked like a total tourist all gawk-eyed wandering around London. The Churchs are beautiful. Everything is great. It's so clean too, clean and old looking. Beautiful.
Later we took the overground train from Charing Cross to New Cross. I want to go back over by Charing Cross because the pubs looked EXCELLENT. It is such a happening place to be/
Oh i forgot to mention we walked through a bunch of beautiful parks, which they have just placed in the middle of crowded London.
Got home that night, made a ramen noodle dinner, and went out again. I met a British kid at the bar whose name actually escapes me right now, and me and him drank and talked about differences in our cultures all night. We talked about everything from politics to girls, to school, to parents.. He even stopped at one point and pointed out a girl and said, "do you think that girls pretty?" I said "no". He told me "well here she is considered really really hot". I said "that sucks for you" and we both started laughing. I told him how I was fascinated with how British news covers issues from all over the world. I explained how in America, we only hear about at home. Everyone I meet here knows all about American issues and politics, I am slowly learning the reverse. He was telling me about the parties in England when Obama won the election. I don't recall going to any parties when the Prime Minister changed in England last year..
So I'm having fun, traveling around, meeting people. I'm experiencing a bit of culture shock, still not used to subtle differences in just about EVERYTHING. But I am enjoying myself. I do miss Nick's porch though...
This week i just have orientations but this sunday I'm going to OXFORD. Woot woot. Also on Wed i'm going to a proper British Creme tea party and a restaurant in central, So i'll pretty excited for that. Until later. I love you all.\
Cheers
Andrew
Friday, September 18, 2009
The Rubbish Bin- Last Post Before Depature.
World-
I woke up this morning still trying to scrape the pasty taste of my twenty first birthday off the roof of my mouth. The outstretched arms of the work week offered no salvation for my body and liver as I confidently charged through my last five days in the United States with horizontal I.D in hand, anxiety in my heart, laughing my way to bed (or the floor) every night for what felt like would be the last time every time.
Tonight I will be heading to London, to pursue my lifelong dream of pretending I'm British. It is true that I will miss the red white and blue.... I love town hall meetings and health care reform just as much as any another American burger-munchin, football watching--buffalo wing aficionado, but London's calling...to the far away towns.
Everything that has affected me in life has come from England. From The Beatles, to Harry Potter and J.K Rowling's nonfictional semi-biographical argument about the London Wizarding underground, to people who talk lykeee theiss, to A Clockwork Orange, to Sweeney Todd, to William Shakespeare, to my friend Steve Thompson, etc., I have been very much influenced by London and all the culture it has contributed to the world. I, as a human being, am just a recycled American byproduct of everything great that came out of London. Now, after studying English Literature for three years in college, I'm ready to go and see these things for myself, and be apart of these things for myself...in reality, not just here in my head, or on platform nine and three quarters.
...also I like foggy weather.
I'm feeling kind of nervous. I know this day will be one big pain in the ass. Customs, transportation, problems with paperwork I forgot to hand in, my debit card won't swipe...I know, I'm prepared. But I'm sure it will all be worth it come Monday when I'm settled in my Little flat in New Cross, St. James St, London. I know this will be a quick trip, but twelve weeks should be justttt enough time to have an existential revelation/mental breakdown if I time it correctly. I guess all I can do now, is go.
Cheers.
Andrew
I woke up this morning still trying to scrape the pasty taste of my twenty first birthday off the roof of my mouth. The outstretched arms of the work week offered no salvation for my body and liver as I confidently charged through my last five days in the United States with horizontal I.D in hand, anxiety in my heart, laughing my way to bed (or the floor) every night for what felt like would be the last time every time.
Tonight I will be heading to London, to pursue my lifelong dream of pretending I'm British. It is true that I will miss the red white and blue.... I love town hall meetings and health care reform just as much as any another American burger-munchin, football watching--buffalo wing aficionado, but London's calling...to the far away towns.
Everything that has affected me in life has come from England. From The Beatles, to Harry Potter and J.K Rowling's nonfictional semi-biographical argument about the London Wizarding underground, to people who talk lykeee theiss, to A Clockwork Orange, to Sweeney Todd, to William Shakespeare, to my friend Steve Thompson, etc., I have been very much influenced by London and all the culture it has contributed to the world. I, as a human being, am just a recycled American byproduct of everything great that came out of London. Now, after studying English Literature for three years in college, I'm ready to go and see these things for myself, and be apart of these things for myself...in reality, not just here in my head, or on platform nine and three quarters.
...also I like foggy weather.
I'm feeling kind of nervous. I know this day will be one big pain in the ass. Customs, transportation, problems with paperwork I forgot to hand in, my debit card won't swipe...I know, I'm prepared. But I'm sure it will all be worth it come Monday when I'm settled in my Little flat in New Cross, St. James St, London. I know this will be a quick trip, but twelve weeks should be justttt enough time to have an existential revelation/mental breakdown if I time it correctly. I guess all I can do now, is go.
Cheers.
Andrew
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Pre-Departure
Disclaimer.
So I've decided to create a "blog". I think blog is just a cool, 2009-friendly way of saying "diary", which makes me feel weird, because it might be weird if I kept a diary. I usually pictured people with diaries as the type of people who have alot of secrets that they are afraid to tell their friends or something. I don't have any secrets and this is a public diary, so now I understand what a blog is I suppose. It's simply just a very public journal of all my most private and intimate experiences and ideas...
...Well, Doug kept a journal and nobody had the stones to make fun of him...although he was pretty secretive about it. Regardless this is my blog.
I'm really writing this to document my time in London. As an English major guy, I know I should be writing with my audience in mind, but I'm mainly going to write this for myself so I can explicitly remember my trip abroad for the rest of my life. So if things seemed jarred or rambled at times, it's because I don't care.
I'm also writing this so my friends and family can see how I'm doing, read about my experiences, see some pictures, and sadly see what's going on inside my head as I rummage the world and try and figure out if there really is life outside of Old Bridge, New Jersey.
Ok, this next part isn't for you, it's for me. Like I said I want to remember every detail of this trip and the way I'm feeling before/after leaving like 20 years from now.
I am twenty years old about to turn twenty one in a week. After a three year booze-filled romp through a psuedo-college, psuedo labor force lifestyle I have decided I want to see the world before the world sees me. My trip to London began in my humble apartment in Franklin Street. I moved in with my beatnik brother ( I'll call Justin my brother, because I had the audacity to live with him and he with me) and unknowingly had the mat of every belief I've ever held ripped out from under me. Living in a depressing apartment with depressing neighbors (sorry neighbours) and a roomate who is a living homage to every philosopher that ever lived changed everything about the way I percieve the world, or, how the world sees me. I spent 9 months living with no television, small, sputtery blots of internet that came in waves of ten minutes, no mainstream movies, no Ipod, and no entertainment, except the long, coffee-fueled conversations I had with Justin about religion, art, life , God, Being, Nothingness, and Amstel Light. I spent nine months eating rice and tortilla chips, and figuring out that happiness/entertainment can only be found for me in a good conversation.I could only figure out who I was in an empty room.
On this exact day last year I was 30 pounds heavier, notably unhappy, and beginning my career as a red hawk. I was going to enter MSU's teaching program and graduate, be a teacher, move in with my then girlfriend, wait for the screaming kids and the white-pickett fence and potentially die.
After my first four months in Franklin street. I lost 20 pounds, separated from my girlfriend, dropped my teaching major, devoted all my writing to my band, and began my first plans to leave the country. My trip to London is my first effort in what I hope will be a lifetime of existential traveler's bliss. I know You don't have to go anywhere to travel except a small apartment, or a coffee shop with your friend, all movement is traveling to me, just taking the time to not let a single tree pass by the rear window without commenting on it. I hope London enables me to continue to grow outside of the box I've created for myself at home, and the box I see outside of away at school. I hope this trip allows me to drop the "American way". I want to see myself outside of the American societal construct, or how all my pre-concieved, pre-determined, notions of right and wrong match up against an entirely different societal current( I know, if you go to MSU, holla Bob Whitney), This is deconstructionism though, post-colonial deconstruction starting right now with my soul.
I think I'll post one more real pre-depature blog before I go.
Cheers-
Andrew.
So I've decided to create a "blog". I think blog is just a cool, 2009-friendly way of saying "diary", which makes me feel weird, because it might be weird if I kept a diary. I usually pictured people with diaries as the type of people who have alot of secrets that they are afraid to tell their friends or something. I don't have any secrets and this is a public diary, so now I understand what a blog is I suppose. It's simply just a very public journal of all my most private and intimate experiences and ideas...
...Well, Doug kept a journal and nobody had the stones to make fun of him...although he was pretty secretive about it. Regardless this is my blog.
I'm really writing this to document my time in London. As an English major guy, I know I should be writing with my audience in mind, but I'm mainly going to write this for myself so I can explicitly remember my trip abroad for the rest of my life. So if things seemed jarred or rambled at times, it's because I don't care.
I'm also writing this so my friends and family can see how I'm doing, read about my experiences, see some pictures, and sadly see what's going on inside my head as I rummage the world and try and figure out if there really is life outside of Old Bridge, New Jersey.
Ok, this next part isn't for you, it's for me. Like I said I want to remember every detail of this trip and the way I'm feeling before/after leaving like 20 years from now.
I am twenty years old about to turn twenty one in a week. After a three year booze-filled romp through a psuedo-college, psuedo labor force lifestyle I have decided I want to see the world before the world sees me. My trip to London began in my humble apartment in Franklin Street. I moved in with my beatnik brother ( I'll call Justin my brother, because I had the audacity to live with him and he with me) and unknowingly had the mat of every belief I've ever held ripped out from under me. Living in a depressing apartment with depressing neighbors (sorry neighbours) and a roomate who is a living homage to every philosopher that ever lived changed everything about the way I percieve the world, or, how the world sees me. I spent 9 months living with no television, small, sputtery blots of internet that came in waves of ten minutes, no mainstream movies, no Ipod, and no entertainment, except the long, coffee-fueled conversations I had with Justin about religion, art, life , God, Being, Nothingness, and Amstel Light. I spent nine months eating rice and tortilla chips, and figuring out that happiness/entertainment can only be found for me in a good conversation.I could only figure out who I was in an empty room.
On this exact day last year I was 30 pounds heavier, notably unhappy, and beginning my career as a red hawk. I was going to enter MSU's teaching program and graduate, be a teacher, move in with my then girlfriend, wait for the screaming kids and the white-pickett fence and potentially die.
After my first four months in Franklin street. I lost 20 pounds, separated from my girlfriend, dropped my teaching major, devoted all my writing to my band, and began my first plans to leave the country. My trip to London is my first effort in what I hope will be a lifetime of existential traveler's bliss. I know You don't have to go anywhere to travel except a small apartment, or a coffee shop with your friend, all movement is traveling to me, just taking the time to not let a single tree pass by the rear window without commenting on it. I hope London enables me to continue to grow outside of the box I've created for myself at home, and the box I see outside of away at school. I hope this trip allows me to drop the "American way". I want to see myself outside of the American societal construct, or how all my pre-concieved, pre-determined, notions of right and wrong match up against an entirely different societal current( I know, if you go to MSU, holla Bob Whitney), This is deconstructionism though, post-colonial deconstruction starting right now with my soul.
I think I'll post one more real pre-depature blog before I go.
Cheers-
Andrew.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)