Two of my dear friends hosted the Boozehat party this weekend, at which everyone had to wear a hat that corresponded with their booze of choice. Of course hats were switched and things got silly.
In the US, we say "giving you shit". In the UK, we say "taking the piss". Why all the exchanging of bodily excretions as terms for "making fun of"?
I once wrote a short and very wordy essay on Freud's theories of the unconscious. I did it by applying his ideas to the film Rocky Horror Picture Show.
This is not as difficult a pairing as it might at first appear to be.
Each of the characters can easily be seen as the embodiment of each part of Freud's iceberg theory. Rocky, the Id and subconscious. Brad and Janet, the Super Ego. You get the picture. You can also apply his theories of sexual deviance and the push-pull of desire and morality to the storyline and character dynamics with little or no effort at all. I can say this with some confidence because I was able to do it in the three hours I gave myself before I had to hand in the essay, see.
I found the entire assignment rather inane seeing as how Freud hated film, arguing extensively against its evils. But sometimes you just have to do what the teacher says.
When I received my marks there was a note written in the margin- my teacher called it a brave essay, and gave me a middling grade.
This has nothing to do with being an American in London, but it does have to do with being American. Take ten minutes of your time and enjoy the fact that our president had nerd cred.
In the unexpected heat yesterday, I found myself at a fascinating talk at the Architectural Association about the future of cities and architecture. I only caught the last three speakers, but it gave me lots of food for thought for my own design.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think the talk was organized by the writer of one of my favorite blogs, BLDGBLOG. If you have any interest in architecture, urban spaces, or the history of cities, keep an eye out for the BLDGBLOG book that is being released in a few weeks in the UK. This man is utterly brilliant. I approached him at the end of the talk and said his work was fantastic. I think I might have creeped him out a little. Sorry!
I went to see my friend Warren Ellis speak, but I was most intrigued by the speaker right before him- Francois Roche (sorry Warren, you know I still care). The way he approaches the design of a new building makes each of his structures feel like a story is being written. His focus is always on the process of creation, the cycle of death and life. Good stuff! I will follow his work from now on, and you should too.
Random thoughts running through my head today:
*I would very much like to design legs for Aimee Mullins.
*I would like to take a few short courses at CSM over the summer:
-life casting
-painting the nude
-experimental glass working
-experimental jewelery
-laser cutting for fashion
-knitwear (creating your own insane knits)
-couture tailoring
-starting a fashion business
-embroidery
-art criticism
-art and politics: from Dada to Deller
*I am going home on Monday! And while at home I will be doing a drag queen photo shoot!
*I am aching to get into latex modeling, but I'm not sure how to make contacts over here in London. Any ideas?
*I am considering opening my own Etsy shop, and starting to sell my prints and simple garments, just so I don't starve near the end of each month.
*I found the mother of all latex stores by accident while searching for a candy store yesterday. I want to work there. I want to wear EVERYTHING in there. I want to design clothes for the store. I want to model for the company. I want to be a part of that world. My friend went in with me, and after spending an hour in there chatting with the drag queen salesmen, selling a catsuit to a man in a suit, and buying myself a FABULOUS latex hood my friend turned to me and said, "wow, I've never seen you so in your element. Holy shit, that was amazing. It was like you suddenly turned on the fabulous."
*sigh*
I want to make things and create things and collaborate with artists and other designers. I want to be inspired.
Every year Valentine's Day approaches and I think "psh, lame hallmark holiday that means nothing to me." And every year my boyfriend, always the romantic, sends me flowers even though I tell him not to.
Being that I am half way around the globe from him this year, the last thing I expected was a dozen red roses delivered to my flat this morning.
It made me blush. heehee :) I guess I should just admit that I love them, and that I smile every time I see them.
Now I just have to buy a vase.... ;)
Oh my god I feel like crap.
However I have learned that certain late night kebab places make amazing meat and chips with vinegar and garlic sauce.
Websites that make switching your account from a .com to a .co.uk easy:
-amazon
-ebay
-facebook
-my bank
-almost all other websites
Websites that suck:
-Paypal
It's funny that while I've survived the London cold, I arrived in SF only to come down with a nasty nasty cold. But I'm getting over it, slowly.
Tonight The Boy and I are going to decorate our little tiny Charlie Brown Christmas tree and wrap other people's presents. Right now, we're eating exotic cheese on crackers, sipping white wine, and playing games. Maybe we're nerds, but we're cute.
A few things about being home:
- my mother and I have reached a point in our relationship where we are much more honest and clear with one another, so I am not dreading family time anymore. This is HUGE.
- I have missed American brunch, which for The Boy and I involves waffles, mimosas, eggs, and lots and lots of coffee. Sundays used to be my favorite day of week. Since moving to the UK, they have become just another day to do homework. It's nice having a day to look forward to again (despite being sickly over brunch today).
- I cannot wait to see my friends and give them their presents! I miss my people. People who I have long-standing jokes, stories, and history with.
- I am getting a lot of comments from strangers since I cut my hair. I was asked if I was a European movie star the other day. When I laughed and said that I wasn't, the woman winked and said, "I won't tell, don't worry." Yesterday our waitress asked if she knew me, and spent a lot of time talking with us, commenting on my hair. Something a bout the bangs makes people want to talk to me.
- One awesome thing about being home is having a computer-genius boyfriend. My computer is now fixed. This is amazing, and I am thrilled! I don't have to restart it every five minutes anymore.
- It's fun to be pretentious here. I get to start sentences with phrases like, "well, in London...." or "you know, in Europe...." heeheehee.
- It's surprising to me how many Britishisms I have picked up in my three months in London. I didn't realize how carefully I've trained myself to use certain words until I found that I had to remind myself to use Americanisms here. I have to remind myself to say "thanks" instead of "cheers" sometimes. Or "bangs" instead of "fringe". Also "school" and not "uni". There are a few others too, but they are escaping me right now.
I think I have fallen into British habits because I spent so much time alone, observing and listening. It's like the other night, when I was walking around Soho with two of my friends from class and they thought we were supposed to make a right, but I told them it was a left. We argued for a minute, but I insisted it was a left, then a right, then another left. And guess who was right? One of my friends drunkenly pushed me and said, "I've lived here for years, and you've only been here a few months. How come you know where you're going better than I do?" And I realized that it's because I don't have the luxury of familiarity. In London I don't know where anything is, so I pay very close attention to where things are in case I need to find them again. And Soho is one of the areas that is so full of interesting streets, I have paid quite a bit of attention to every place I've ever walked past.
Ok, tree decorating time! I'll catch up with you all later.
I've officially begun to dream about school. I dreamt I met with my tutor to discuss my grade.
If that's the best my subconscious can come up with, then I need to get out more.
I fly home in ten days! So excited to see the boy!!!
Also, I bought three vintage dresses today, and a VERY short denim skirt. I intend to look smashing when I visit all my friends- otherwise how can I be pretentious and pompous about living in London now?
I needed to get out of the house this morning. I felt a little antsy and needed to think of something besides impending deadlines.
I wandered up Brick Lane to the Sunday UpMarket. It was raining and cold, and many of the merchants weren't finished setting up their tables, even thought it was nearly noon. I browsed a bit, nothing really caught my eye. That is until I went to leave and saw these babies shoved underneath a rack of jackets.
Today I wore black high heeled boots, gray tights, and a very short black dress under an "old man" sweater. I live in a devout Muslim neighborhood, see. I got this look a lot today:
It began when I was building a set of drawers I bought from IKEA.
I had to hammer in some nails, but being that I did not have a hammer I found a good hard book and began pounding in the nails with my fist, through the book. I thought nothing of it until someone banged really hard on the floor below me.
Oh my god, I completely forgot that someone was living below me! And here I was at 12am making loud banging noises. No wonder they pounded on the ceiling. I felt like an ass!
I really didn't want this to become "a thing" between two faceless people with a growing resentment of the other, so I owned up to my mistake and wrote the person a note, which I slid under the door to their flat. It said:
"Dear (Room#),
I am so sorry about the noise last night. I really hope I didn't wake you up, but if I did I owe you a good strong drink. It's the least I can do.
Love (my Room #)"
That whole day I hoped that they got my note, and that this person wasn't seething in their room, sleep deprived and cranky. But I got no response from the resident of the room below me.
However the next morning, I found a note slipped under my flat's door. It read:
"Dear (Room #),
Haha! You did wake me up, but it's okay! I just had to bang on the ceiling, though. So I will take you up on that drink sometime!
Love, (Room#)"
I was relieved that the person below me wasn't pissed and evil. But I realize that I had just asked some unknown person out for a drink. Judging from the handwriting, I suspected the person below me was a girl, but for all I know some huge, sweaty, pimple faced boy was happily accepting my offer of a free drink. So I wrote one more note:
"Dear (Room#),
So uh, who the hell are you? I just realized we've never met and I have no idea who you are. My name is Rachael, and here's my email if you want to look me up on facebook or something. Or just stop by!"
Yesterday, two very sweet girls showed up at our front door and introduced themselves as our downstairs housemates. The girl below me is REALLY cool, and I really want to get to know her better. She asked about what I was doing that made so many loud noises and I told her about the IKEA stuff, which inspired her to look them up online and consider ordering some drawers too. I offered to help build them for her... it's the least I could do, right?
"I am so glad you're a girl," I said to her. She laughed,
"Yeah, I could have been some big scary guy who came up here to yell at you for making all that noise."
"You could have paid some guy on the street to come up here and harass me, you know..."
"Oh my god, I should have done that," she said. "Hm, will you be here tomorrow night around, say 6? I mean, no reason, just asking..."
And so what could have been a silent hateful situation turned into what I hope is a potential friend. (As an aside, she's really cute and is kinda my type too.) And FINALLY we know some other people who live in our building. So I guess in a way, it was a good thing that I decided to build IKEA furniture at all hours of the night.
While at Sainsbury's my room mate and I bought some heavy-weight duvets because we have both been freezing cold at night. After sleeping under mine last night, I can happily report that I am no longer required to sleep in pajamas and a sweater.
Hooray!
Oh my god, I just said something to my room mate and pronounced it with a pseudo-English accent. Crap, I'm becoming Madonna...
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