London Shizzy

It’s now Thursday and I am still tired. Not as jet lagged as I was by any means but still tired. I feel like when sleep comes over me, it is profound and un-fight-off-able. I feel like Chris Farley in that old SNL sketch about Hibernol. Only I think I would prefer to sleep until Halloween and then I’d be good. Can’t miss my favorite holiday. I talked to a friend the other day and we are both on the countdown for Thanksgiving. I know it’s only mid-October but I am ready for turkey, pumpkin pie, potatoes, and a break from work. With any luck, it will be a drama-free Christmas too and the year can saunter out calmly.

So, London. Honestly, still being tired and feeling like the vacation was a blur will make it too difficult to synopsize in any chronological or consistent manner. I have posted some of my photos on Picasa. I guess I will just do this as I often do in a stream-of-consciousness manner and hope for the best.

*We had a number of issues with flight delays. Nothing was cancelled, thank God, but the delays made for a lot of waiting around. It was kind of a “hurry up and wait” debacle on the entire journey to get to the UK.

*The plane from ATL to Gatwick was freeeeeeezing cold. If you know me in person then you know how hot-natured I am. When I get cold, it’s fucking ridiculous.

*Several infants squalled on the whole flight there. Two little Nigels with firetruck suitcases talked and sang all night long. No sleep could be had. We tried, God love us, but we just could not sleep. This made for one exhausting, tedious morning. We had to camp out in our hotel’s lobby and wait for them to get a room together. When they did, rotations of sleep and watching Malcolm in the Middle (thank you, Bryan Cranston, for being hee-larious when we needed you most) occurred.

*London was particularly rainy and dank whilst we were there. Yeah, yeah, it’s rainy and gray. We got it. But the time we were there was especially rainy. Lots of downpours and wetness everywhere. Blah. It made the beaches of LA seem even better by comparison. SoCal, I love you.

*Massive bad fashion was on display. Good Lord. Some of the worst fashion abominations I’ve ever witnessed were in London. It rivals Austin, Texas on the bad fashion wagon. Mismatched clothing. Shitloads of LiLo style skirts with leggings. High heels that matched nothing. We saw one chick wearing black tights with peach melba colored 1980s prom high heels. How is that cool? IT’S NOT. We saw a businessman on the Tube wearing a pinstripe suit with three different patterns—one stripe for the jacket, one for the shirt and one for the pants. With this, he had on BROWN shoes, an electric blue pocket square and a light pink tie. I dunno what kind of business he works in but he was a hot mess. These people think they are hella cool and they just aren’t.

*Speaking in very broad terms, the nicest people I encountered while there were immigrants and non-London natives. Of the natives, there were only two people who were really sweet.

*IMHO, even the areas that are supposed to be upper echelon are not as nice as Rodeo Drive and Fifth Avenue. Maybe that makes me sound like a Philistine but I don’t care. Fifth Avenue dwarfs Rodeo Drive but both places create a nicer milieu for window shopping than what you find in London. Just my opinion on the matter. If you want Saville Row, yes, go to London. Otherwise, America, fuck yeah!

*We saw many doppelgangers while we were there. I saw several different versions of some of my ex-boyfriends. Many other versions of Adam Lambert, Zack Galifanakis, Tim Heidecker, Eric Wareheim, Peter Scolari, Bob Newhart, et al. Before we even left America, I saw a dude who looked like Gordon Ramsay’s twin.

*The On the Border in the ATL airport served us joke cocktails. It was like paying $9 for a cocktail with maybe ¼ ounce of alcohol in the whole thing. And that’s a generous estimate.

*Tower of London was cool although I expected it to have more gore. London Bridge Paranormal Experience was hokey as hell. Let’s see . . . Jack the Ripper tour was good. For some reason, I thought the entrance of the BBC was going to look like Trump Tower. And, NO. It was gray, old and out-dated. Welcome to government-run offices. The Thames was dirty as hell. I thought of that scene in the 1989 Batman where Jack Napier falls into the vat of chemicals and then emerges as the Joker. If you fall in the Thames, you might come out as a supervillain. I just don’t know.

*Riding the Tube was not too bad once we got our bearings. It’s the kind of thing that when it worked, it was great. When it didn’t, it sucked. I can only imagine how hot and uncomfortable it must get down there in the summer.

*When we rode in on the Gatwick Express, we passed by some areas that were g-h-e-t-t-o. We thought at that point, “What have we done?” I shit you not, we passed by a trailer park. Hello, if we’d wanted to see mobile homes, we could do that in the backwoods for free. The whole ride into London was an eye-opener for me. There were elements of it that reminded me of Mad Max. Like, areas that had been abandoned and covered in graffiti. That’s not so much what they put on the postcards!

*Gordon Ramsay’s food kicked ass. It was the best salmon I’ve ever eaten and some of the best cheesecake, too. I also had some really great Indian food while we were there. I guess I’ve been lucky because on most of the vacations I’ve taken in recent years, I’ve had great food and alcohol. The food on the plane sucked balls so I didn’t make that mistake on the way home. We ate breakfast at a French place on the way out of London and it was so, so good. Much better than the sketchy “omelet” the airline gave people, LOL. God, it smelled like rubber cement and sulfur.

*It seemed like for us, everything was overly complicated and overrated in general. I know I’ve mentioned the ep of Frasier before where Frasier and Niles rediscover Derek Jacobi’s hammy Shakespearean actor from their childhood and are embarrassed when they realize they’ve signed up for something horrible. I think that’s a good way to describe London. We imagined a city of glamour and received a dreary, wet experience instead. Yes, yes, the historical and literary values of it are amazing. I can’t and won’t debate that. But I think we had the general feeling of “absorb what you want to culturally and then get the helllllllll out.”

*The British Museum is full of amazing things. I can highly recommend going there. For a history and art lover, it was wonderful. I remember getting into the Ancient Rome section and being beyond jazzed. I’m probably the only nerd to go running up to Vespasian’s bust like he was Brad Pitt, LOL. I love the history of the Caesars, what can I say.

*The bathroom floor and shower unit at our hotel were so slippery. Like the klutz that I am, I fell on the first day there and bruised up my leg. Didn’t break anything, thank God, and didn’t hit my head but it’s a week and a half later and I am still dealing with the bruises. As a matter of fact, the whole damn city is slick. I nearly fell out numerous times.

*Traffic is a head trip. As an American, you have to retrain yourself to look in the opposite direction of what you are accustomed to. And do a lot of praying on top of that. The streets are narrow and people drive like maniacs to go absolutely nowhere. A lot of speeding without apparent purpose.

*Jezza Clarkson is right: British cop shows suck. Someone going 45mph does not constitute a “high speed chase.”

*By 8 or 9pm, the sidewalks roll up. All you can find later than that are a few restaurants, bars and nightclubs. It is not a 24/7 culture.

*I had to help several people at random navigate the Tube. Not because I was super informed or intelligent about it; I think it was only because I was friendly and approachable. That says a lot: when someone who lives in the UK has to ask an American for help with their own system in London. When you get on the Tube, no one says anything. It’s quiet as the tomb.

*After being in lines and cramped environments, I felt like the Conchords song “Mutha’uckas.” Too many of them ‘uckin with my shizz. How many? TOO MANY TO COUNT!

*Upon getting home, I remember one of the first things I wanted to do was wash my face and start smearing RX-strength acne cream on. I didn’t have any pimples on my face. It was just a strange Simon Cowell-esque reaction I was having. I wanted to get the grime of travel off my face and begin the exfoliation process. As if to say, “Ok, I survived this experience but I don’t want it to show on my face.”

*I never, ever would have expected it but a lot of things came clear to me morally and philosophically on this trip. I don’t wanna expound too much or get preachy because I feel like people’s beliefs are very intimate. I guess all I can really say is that, again in very general terms and in my lowly opinion, when people are not accountable to something outside themselves, it shows in a big way. They may not realize it but it shows. I will give one brief example. When we were at the British Museum, a woman walked up on crutches. They were the kind with the arm cuffs on them so she couldn’t really open the door for herself without falling. When she made it to the door, people scattered. It was disgusting, absolutely disgusting to witness people so unwilling to do such a simple act of kindness for another human being. Like a two second act of holding the door was too great an imposition. I held the door for her and she was very nice to me for such a simple thing. So much for “whatever you do to the least, you have done to me.” I don’t want to get preachy, I really don’t. Let me query it this way: Can we not be gentler to each other? The global economy sucks, people are having a hard time. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

*I recall the BBC being hot. When they passed out surveys, I wrote, “AC needs to blow. It is way too hot up in here.” Then I imagined some Brit reading it in a fancy, upper-crust accent and we all had a laugh. I bet they are still like, “AC needs to blow. What the hell does that mean?” It means air conditioning needs to blast 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, NOW because your studios are 100 degrees.

*We learned that J.Lo will not walk to her dressing room no matter how much coaxing she has; Alan Sugar drives a fat-ass Rolls (which I totally drooled over—my apologies to Piers for any disloyalty that causes); George Michael will not accept scratchy-ass towels (and I had his rejected towel shoved in my face and it was, indeed, scratchy and rough); Paul McCartney and Elton John are cool and don’t ask for much when they make appearances; and Madonna is a diva and this was especially true during what K-Cran labeled her “Catholic phase.”

*British TV is a haphazard hodgepodge. Also: there is a man on X Factor over there with a giant afro and a wannabe bad boy style. He’s like one of those dudes who thinks he is hella edgy but is not. Such a theme for the entire experience! Thinking things are something they are not.


I may write more as I think of things. For now, this is all I have the stamina for. It’s more than enough to gnaw on.