All The Small Things

Comedy Stuff

2012-10-30T06:10:00.001-07:00

I’m not normally a jealous person. I just can’t help liking what other people have, sometimes. Living amidst some of the wealthiest, most influential, and most famous people in the world has a way of doing that to you. So while everyone around you is getting promotions, making money, winning awards, getting published, or meeting the only celebrity you’ve actually ever admired, like, a whole heaping, freakin’ LOT, what else can you do but laugh away all that green envy? I mean, other than sink into a pitiful depression because of it. By cramming two great comedy shows into two weeks maybe I’ll forget for a few hours how goddam hard life is and I can forget wondering why it always seems like everyone ELSE gets all the rewards and glitz and prestige and love and success.

I’ve become a bit more familiar with UK comedians. Exposure to UK shows over the past year introduced me to a whole new kind of comedy, really. Compared to Tosh.O and Southpark and Brian Reagan and The Big Bang Theory – the only American comedy/comedians I actually like/pay attention to – British comedy is much drier, sarcastic and focused on stereotypes. Which often means that until you’ve lived here long enough to understand the culture and stereotypes to some degree you just flat out won’t get it. Or worse, everything they say will come out in such a fast, heavy accent you won’t even pick up a word of English. And they say Americans ruined “English” as a language. There are definitely some people on this side of the ocean who butcher it, too. And so you're trying to make out what they're saying by reading lips and facial expressions, which is near impossible when you're sitting 70 feet away in a giant, dark theater. But once you get past the content and the language barriers you can definitely find a few stand ups who will make you pee yourself laughing.

Personally, I really like the people they have on QI, the show hosted by Stephen Fry, ‘Quite Interesting’, because they’re all so damn smart. Well, smart AND witty and clever. Some people get all the gifts. And then there’s people like me who can’t make anyone laugh unless it’s accidental.

So to get to the point, I’ve been to quite a few comedy shows as well. Stand up acts made for TV, for shows, for charity, and just for fun. Most recently, as in last night, I saw Russel Kane, a mad scientist-looking guy not much older than me from Essex. He was very good at acting gay – twirling and dancing around the stage and using a really stereotypical gay voice – and had more energy than a 5 year old injected with speed. But wild as he was, he was pretty darn funny; observational humor about raising kids. Apparently, it was a new show with fresh content for this tour, but here's a sample of his stuff from another tour:

Before that, moths ago actually, back in the spring, I went to a 3 hour comedy show at The Comedy Store near Piccadilly Circus where there were filming maybe 2-dozen stand up acts that would eventually be aired separately on Comedy Central. In that instance, we were first in line to get in and got front row seats, almost dead center. Inevitably, they heckled us and singled me out as an American but I thought it was a hoot. People here seem to worry about being singled out in the crowd but I like it! I’d be more terrified to be on stage, quite frankly. This guy was my favorite act and he picked on us really badly. Unfortunately, in my opinion, they cut that bit in the final edits. But you can still see me in the audience!

The one before that was for charity, raising money to support disadvantaged people in sport – kids, handicapped people, etc – by having athletes (coached by real comedians) do the stand-up acts. Now how terrifying would that be? To NOT be a comedian by trade and then to have to try to make people laugh? But their “comedy coaches” warmed up the audience first and then the athletes came on and they did pretty well, to be fair. They showed clips of them learning to be funny and about what makes a good act before they actually got on stage. The program was called Stand Up for Sport Relief.And the same guy in the vid above was an opening act at this show, too:

Next week I’m going to see Frankie Boyle at the Apollo and from what I hear he’s one of the best and most loved comedians in the UK. He’s a really harsh comic and they say you shouldn’t go to his shows if you’re easily offended. But really, if you can’t watch comedy without being offended you probably just not leave your house. Ever.

Le Gavroche

2012-10-26T07:04:00.001-07:00

This is a post I’ve been meaning to get out for a long time, since the end of July, actually. Right before the move to Essex I was treated to a fancy-shmancy dinner for two at Le Gavroche. It was definitely the best one so far! Absolutely exquisite and worthy of all its Michelin stars. It's interesting to see the transition in myself as I become more attuned to what makes for exceptional dining. When I first moved to London I thought every upscale place seemed equally wonderful as the last but now I've been to quite a few and, darn it, now I'm turning into one of the uber snobs!

The staff took politeness and delicacy to a whole new level. there were at least 5 people who were at our constant service but without lingering over us...apparently they’ve perfected the act of rotating from table to table at such accurate increments that they arrived at each one exactly as you'd need them, switching out silverware for each course, bringing mini samplers, folding and laying out our napkins for us as we sat down each time we got up to use the restroom. They’d walk you to the restroom, actually, so you wouldn't get lost (which happened to me at L’Atlier the very first time I went! I nearly walked into the kitchen!), and then someone else would rush to the table and refold your napkin while you were away so it wasn't in a crumpled mess when you came back.

So, the food. I’ll describe what we had and just so I’m not repeating myself, I’ll say in advance it was all delicious....as I already said, this was the best I’d ever had. They served two amuse bouche samplers first, a mini egg salad tartlet and a mushroom roll which was almost like a spring roll, but bite sized. Then we ordered drinks (but not off the wine list, partly bc neither of us drinks but also bc you had to buy by the bottle and they had bottles as expensive and 6,000 pounds!!). Then they brought us the sample starter which was a pork mash, like the consistency of mashed potatoes with a dot of apricot jelly sitting atop a thin triangular wafer...again, just the size of one spoonful. They let us select a roll from an array of breads when they brought the bread basket around and we both chose a French roll, long and comes to a crispy point at each end. It was served with two butter choices, plain and salted, each one molded in a different shape. Once you’ve touched the butter they bring a new butter pad around when they offer bread between the courses. Then our starters came. I had ordered artichoke with truffles, fois gras and chicken puree, which came served as a ball in which each ingredient was actually inserted in layers....it's really hard to describe, but it was white (fois gras) with brown spots (truffles) encasing the chicken mash, sitting on top of the light green artichoke layer, which was hardened and looked like soap, to be honest, but tasted just fine ;) (see below)

My friend got Grilled Scallops with a Clam Minestrone, which I was tempted to order but as I always get scallops I wanted to switch it up for once. Then the main came (after we refused the bread basket) and I had the Sautéd Lobster with Lemongrass and Coconut Infused Lobster Jus on a bed of Seaweed Pasta. When they present the main course they do a lot of showmanship at the table to demonstrate the final preparations. For mine they'd already had the meat perfectly removed and sectioned from the shell of the lobster but they bring it's shell out delicately resting on top of the meat, but they lift it away as they pour the peach-colored coconut jus over it. There was a small amount of the seaweed pasta (green of course) in a fat line along the bottom of the elongated dish, and then on top of it they lay the little meat sections with slices of coconut between each one, and then put some sort of cooked coconut in wedges along the sides as an added decoration.

Very possibly the best food I’d had in my whole life. Then dessert. We both had Set Coconut and White Chocolate Cream, Mango and Lime Salad, as it sounded cool and refreshing on a hot evening. They bring it out in a square plate and the coconut-white chocolate has set in the bottom, similar to the consistency of dried frosting, into which they insert in a square grid pattern mini, mini lime jello squares (smaller than 1 cm wide) and orange mango jelly. in the middle, resting on top of the grid is a pile of shredded mango which has been left to ripen til it's orange, then thick slices of coconut on top of that. Again, divine. I don't think food and restaurant service gets any better.

It wasn’t until late in the meal I realized, after looking curiously at this drawing hanging next to our table during dinner that reminded me of a 9 year old’s drawing of a circus done in primary-colored crayon, that we were sitting next to an original Picasso. And despite the fact I’ve never particularly liked Picasso’s art I must say I was impressed and a bit humbled to be sharing a meal below a drawing that great master had created. It’s not every dinner I get to do that.

The Holstee Manifesto

2012-10-25T06:56:00.000-07:00

That’s like a general theme in London, isn’t it; not enough space. We’re all living on top of one another. We can build up, dig down and spread outwards and still there’s not enough space. I guess that’s partly why it’s been such a damn challenge for me to find a permanent way to stay here. Border Control is just trying to push everyone out and also keep out the ones trying to come in. Even in this increasingly borderless, international world they’re locking their gates up even tighter. But by this time next month I’ll have my final verdict; I’ll know whether I’ve gotten the funding and approval to stay and do my PhD. Despite the fact people may read this and think doing that degree is just a way to slide past British BC, it’s not. That’s false and it pisses me off that people think that and leave comments saying as much. If that’s that you think you don’t know me one iota. I’m so completely dedicated to my field and anyone who DOES know me knows what a an absolute nutcase I am for fitness and health and running and nutrition. It’s one thing to dedicate your education and work experience to something – we all have to get by in this world somehow – but to dedicate your free time and all your energy to that same purpose as well shows some real focus and love for whatever that pursuit is. In my case, it all started with running and exploded from there. Hell, those motivational speakers notoriously tell us to “following your heart and do what you love” and for me it just so happened that what I love most has some real-world value. Exercise, it turns out, is a flipping great medicine therefore has some seriously positive implications for public health policy and change. I’ve dedicated the last 10 years of my life to fitness and running, like I said, and coming from someone who’s only 25, that’s nearly half of my lifespan. That’s a lot. What have you done nonstop for half of your life? So yeah, continuing my education in a field I love and feel so strongly about only makes sense. If it just so happens I can do it here in London, the one city I’ve really fallen in love with, well, all the better for me.

I’m here to make me happy; not you and not anyone else. I love to explore and I love that this journey has let me meet so many new people. If I can make a difference along the way just by breathing passion into every day, what more can I ask for?

“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler.” - Henry David Thoreau

The View

2012-10-21T08:26:00.000-07:00

On one hand, the stress of moving can make you physically ill. Especially when you're riding in London's stop-and-go traffic mash up. But on the other hand, the joy you feel once you've hauled and lugged a car-full of clothes and books across the city and actually settled all those things into a new home, in your own room, it makes all the head-pain, nausea and vomiting you experienced beforehand worthwhile.

And then, THEN you see your view:

You have The Shard dead center and, off in the distance, you can see the Gherkin. That's when you know you are really in London. You're far away from a really, unimaginably rough past few months. The contrast between then and now is a stark as the experience of trudging through a torrential downpour during a London winter's night to a warm, cozy lounge, sitting with your cup of tea by a fire. Location - and the people at each - is certainly a significant factor that makes a huge difference.

Colored Glasses

2012-10-12T02:28:00.001-07:00

I’ve had a lot of really positive AND really negative feedback from this blog. Which surprises me because I’ve said over and over how I just write this as a diary for me – just for me to record the stuff I’ve done, as I always have, in order to remember it all. People don’t seem to get that and I’ve been slapped with some heavy criticism from Anonymous strangers who are, apparently, completely against Americans even being in this country in the first place. I’ve seen and met a lot of people since I’ve been here who rely heavily on stereotypes to classify every single person they come across, usually putting them in some box full of negative adjectives. Isn’t this why we get into wars and stuff? Because we take a whole group of people and say we hate them all; they’re different than us so we should get rid of them. Call me insane but I prefer to let people stand alone and show who they are as an individual. I know - crazy.

So that’s a big reason I stopped writing these blogs for a while. I was sick of the negatives. On top of that the move up to Essex I’d mentioned earlier in the summer had not gone so well. And that’s the understatement of the year. There’s no need to go on a public rant here but the depressing state of things here has left me unmotivated to do much else other than avoid the house as much as possible – I continue to thank god for the ‘loneliness of the long distance runner’ because it’s been my saving grace on more than just this account – and look for my escape route. It’s really awful, really, really awful to feel trapped and alone in a country where you’re still a foreigner, to be taken advantage of by the people you’re living with, and then to have even more strangers online tell you anonymously how awful a person you are, with no basis at all in reality, pulling arguments out their asses.

Anyway, I’m moving out by the end of the month and there seems to be a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. But being in that dark metaphorical tunnel for so long reminded me to look for the little things in life that make dark days seem brighter. I altered my morning routine bike ride to include audio/video of inspirational TED talks instead of punk rock music. I made the most of my weekends by cramming trips to all my favorite stops in London into two days. And most importantly I stayed linked to my family back home via all the platforms internet and phones have to offer.

As a result, or one result, I should say, is that I wanted to change the tone of this blog again in order to showcase not just the big things in life that are obviously noteworthy, but also the little ones that crop up less noticeably but still make us smile. A goofy comic, a seasonal pumpkin spice latte, or a new book you can't wait to read. That's why I chose these photos from the Festival of Colors in Utah; I think they demonstrate two big ideas I'm trying to show here. Superficially, bright colors are enough to make people smile. But also, by transforming familiar things, like our friends and family, into something similar yet different, recognizable yet altered, this experience at the Festival represents the idea that we can choose to see things in a new way, with "rose colored glasses", so to speak. That ability is just as important to our happiness, if not more so, as big accomplishments, fancy vacations, wild nights out, or heaps and heaps of cash. So I want to give a little more recognition to the little bits of awesome in our lives, so that even when we're saying "life sucks" and everything just seems too damn hard we can remember that there's more to appreciate than we think as long as we're looking at it with the right glasses.

One Mo Mile: Part 2

2012-08-23T13:12:00.000-07:00

My Instagram photo of Mo Farah, back in February at the Nike 'One Mo Mile' event

I really got into the Olympics for the first time this year. Living right in the middle of it all helped; guarantee I won’t care half as much in four more years when the Games move to Rio. But this time, being here, seeing everything live on the BBC, going to two live events (Men’s Cycling Road Race and Women’s 3m Board Freestyle Diving), and cheering more for the Brits than the Americans while they dominated most of the competition to come in third overall in the medal tables made this the ultimate Olympic experience. I don’t think any other will compare.

I thought, as always, the Marathon was going to be my favorite event but I have to say the long-distance track events are what stole my attention during these games. In particular, Mo Farah’s 10,000 and subsequent 5,000 meter races. After running alongside this amazing athlete in a secret, invite-only, 5K event last spring, and then listening to him discuss his training for these very events (see the original story here: ONE MO MILE), I was totally keyed up to watch these races play out.

The Olympic 10,000m title has been won by an African at every Games since 1984 but the Londoner emerged here in two incredible Saturday slogs to be a deceptive and dazzling racer on the track. That first Saturday, Farah won the 10,000 meters while his American training partner, Galen Rupp, took second with their patient sit-and-kick approach. Surprisingly, perhaps, the race opened at a jog, and continued to be a slow, tactical race almost entirely throughout. Farah went to the back early and bided his time, moving up eventually to fifth or sixth place with four laps remaining.

Many expected the Ethiopians and Kenyans to open these events with a fast pace or throw in a fierce charge with three or four laps remaining to attempt to nullify Farah’s kick. His coach, Alberto Salazar, had told Farah to expect the East Africans to surge at that point. The Ethiopians did, but Farah remained calm. With 700 meters left, he moved to the front and began his long drive to the finish. Rupp came up on Farah’s shoulder. It was a kind of blockade strategy to force other runners to expend energy to try to get around them.

Even Kate and Wills were there cheering him on!

Truth be told, there were some nervous moments as those long legs strode out confidently, eating up the ground in a 53.48sec last lap. But in reality Farah was always in control, never panicking on his way to 10,000m victory. All evening the Olympic Stadium had yelled itself hoarse but now, at the last, the volume increased again, the crowd on their feet, urging Farah home. The noise of the crowd swelled, and with long, fluid strides and a look both of surprise and triumph, Farah crossed the finish line and raised his arms. Not since 1984 has a European runner won an Olympic 10,000m gold medal and a Briton never has.

“The crowd helped him,” Bernard Lagat of the United States said of Farah. “He was running at 100 percent, and they gave him another 10 percent.”

'I can't believe it,' said Farah. 'I've never experienced something like this. It doesn't come round often to have this on your door step and the amount of people supporting me, shouting out your name - it's never going to get better. This is the best moment of my life.'

'It's something I have worked so hard for - 120 miles week in week out. What you put in to it is what you get out. 'I want to thank everyone who has supported me from my childhood and until now. Without all them people this wouldn't have happened. I have got to enjoy this moment.'

And then he did it again. 5,000 meter gold. And in so doing, he became only the seventh man in Olympic history to achieve the illustrious 5,000 and 10,000m double. He is also the first British man since Albert Hill in 1920 to win two Olympic track and field titles at the same Games.

If anything, Farah’s performance last night was even more superlative than his 'Super Saturday’ 10,000m triumph a week earlier given the amount of energy he had already expended during his epic week and the huge pressure he came under from the world’s greatest exponents of the 12½-lap distance. And there I was, cheering him on from a traditional British pub in Hammersmith along with all the other Britons, all of us urging him on with our cheering from across the nation.

So now with two Olympic golds to his name, Mo has reported feeling he could be a great marathon runner, too – although he jokes “I could turn out to be rubbish.” Still, British athletics would love to see that goal come to fruition since it has never produced a male Olympic or world champion at the 26.2 mile distance. Indeed, Farah has not completely ruled out making his debut in the event at next year’s London Marathon. “It would be amazing to do that event. It’s an option but I haven’t talked to Alberto (Salazar, his coach) or Ricky (Simms, his manager) about it yet.” As for me, I’d be thrilled if my newest running hero took on my favorite distance.

London 2012 Olympics: Men's Road Race

2012-08-04T07:54:00.000-07:00

Most of the time the British are a quiet, reserved people who fulfill that self-imposed stereotype. But they are also a proud nation and they’ve proved, in addition to their many other understated accomplishments, that they are world-class athletes. The 2012 London Olympics are in full swing today, one week after the opening ceremony during which GB first gave the world a great demonstration of British history and pride. Now they’re keeping up with the Americans and the Chinese who are leading in first and second, respectively, in terms of number of Olympic medals won so far. Home team spirit is clearly carrying many of the GB athletes to incredible wins and medals. These people are so proud of their own Olympic competitors; I’ve now attended 2 events and I’ve seen it for myself. The home citizens pack the stands and cheer for their athletes as if the noise alone can urge them on and push them to be faster and stronger. And in all the hubbub I’m finding myself cheering for them too, even over my own nation’s athletes. After all, the USA has proven its point; they’re always going to be at the top in most events. Sports and sporting figures are like gods in our country so it’s not surprising when they get the best treatment and training and win golds as a result. Plus, just by our sheer size we have more athletes to enter into competition. But Britain is a small country with understated accomplishments, as I said, and it’s only since I’ve lived here and been exposed to everything that puts the Great in Britain that I began to appreciate that they’re much more than the small island nation with quiet people who live in stone houses and talk in posh accents.

Road Race Route

A friend of mine said Britain is best at “sitting down” sports and I thought that was so simple and succinct, let alone accurate. The GB teams have been favorites to win at the cycling and rowing events, in particular and so far they’ve lived up to expectations. The men’s Cycling Road Race was one of the very first events on the first full day of the 2012 Olympics and it passed right through Putney near where I lived twice. I saw them on the home stretch as they headed back toward The Mall in front of the Palace with less than 10 miles to go. By that point only one British athlete remained in the competition after crashes and injuries took the others out. I caught the leading pack as I waited in front of Costa:

Cyclist Mark Cavendish had been earmarked to give Great Britain the perfect start to the London Olympics by winning gold in the men's road race on day one. But the world's greatest sprinter, the pre-race favourite, was too far adrift to deliver his trademark burst, finishing down in 29th place, well adrift of winner Alexandre Vinokourov from Kazakhstan. But while Vinokourov won Olympic gold in the men's cycling road race, leaving GB's Mark Cavendish's medal hopes in tatters, another cycling event later in the week proved much more uplifintg.

Bradley Wiggins, the man who opened the Olympic Ceremonies just one day after his domination at the Tour de France, held the lead in the Men's Individual Cycling Time Trials. There is a reason for this: underneath the amiable, bloke-next-door, likes-a-laugh, family-man exterior, is a stone-cold competitor. He might crave an ordinary life, but Wiggins is an extraordinary man.

Speaking at a packed media conference after collecting his fourth Olympic gold on Wednesday, Wiggins gave a hint at what makes him so very unusual. Sat to his right in a room at Hampton Court Palace, was the man who beat him in that world championship time trial last September, Tony Martin. The man he had just beat over 44km through south west London. For many years, Fabian raised the bar and everybody was chasing him," Wiggins explained. "It probably peaked for him at the 2009 Worlds, when he annihilated the field, and we said, 'how are we going to beat this guy?' Now, you can either give up at that point ... or you can say, 'this guy is an incredible athlete, let's look at what he's doing'.” The details of this process are not really the point - the hours spent changing his cadence, or pedal speed; the conditioning work to improve his power-to-weight ratio; the experimentation with equipment and positioning on the bike - what is important is that when faced with not one, but two potential legends, he took notes and tried harder.

This is why Wiggins was able to come back from that 24th-place finish in the 2010 Tour, and the crash in 2011, to become the first British rider to win the Tour de France, the first Tour winner to win an Olympic gold in the same season, and the first Brit to win seven Olympic medals, surpassing Sir Steve Redgrave's six. Having already been named as the owner of "the most famous sideburns since Elvis Presley" by French newspaper L'Equipe, "Wiggo" can take or leave these subjective judgements, they are not his style. What he does care about, however, is his sport.

"They keep banging on about legacy but ultimately it's the athletes who go out and perform who inspire the next generation," he told a room full of journalists. "The great thing about cycling is that this facility here didn't cost anything to build. They didn't even resurface the road, it was terrible in places. So when this is all over anybody can go ride that [London] circuit and pretend they're one of us. That's the great thing with cycling, anybody can do it."

And I saw it happening live, right in front of me. For the few short seconds they passed I technically saw history in the making.

London 2012 Olympics: Opening Ceremonies

2012-07-27T17:41:00.000-07:00

I feel so fortunate and blessed to be in the city hosting a summer Olympics games, and not just because I’m a fanatical runner and exercise scientist by trade, but because it's such an amazing legacy and such a rare thing to experience. I've been given a real gift.

I’m writing this while the London 2012 Opening Ceremonies take place, as the athletes take the stage, and it's off to a spectacular start. If you remember, I wrote about the Stratford Mall a while back which was erected for the purpose of hosting all the needy shoppers during the Olympics. Well, that's where it's all at tonight. Construction in preparation for the Games has involved considerable redevelopment, particularly themed towards sustainability. The main focus of this is a new 200 hectare Olympic Park, constructed on a former industrial site at Stratford in the east of London. The 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games will use a mixture of new venues, existing and historic facilities, and temporary facilities, some of them in well-known locations such as Hyde Park and Horse Guards Parade. Some of the new facilities will be reused in their Olympic form, while others will be resized or relocated.

In a way, this Olympic season began during the closing ceremony of the 2008 Olympics, the Olympic Flag was formally handed over from the Mayor of Beijing to the Mayor of London. Later, a countdown clock in Trafalgar Square was unveiled, 500 days before the games. The countdown to the start of the Olympics began with a ceremony for the lighting of the Olympic flame in Olympia, Greece. Approximately 4,700 Olympic and Paralympic medals have been produced by the Royal Mint. Many test events were held throughout 2011 and 2012, either through an existing championship such as 2012 Wimbledon Championships. Basketball and BMX were the first events to be tested within the Olympic Park.

2012 Olympic Gold Medal

The Olympics torch relay ran from 19 May to 27 July 2012, before the games. The relay was focused on National Heritage Sites, locations and venues with sporting significance, key sporting events, schools registered with the Get Set School Network, green spaces and biodiversity, Live Sites (city locations with large screens), festivals and other events. 8,000 inspirational people carried the Olympic Flame as it journeyed across the UK. They had to be nominated by someone they know; it was their moment to shine, inspiring millions of people watching in their community, in the UK and worldwide. The Torch each one carried is made up of an inner and an outer aluminum skin and perforated by 8,000 circles representing the inspirational stories of the 8,000 Torchbearers. The circles which run the length of the body of the Torch also offer a unique level of transparency so you can see right to the heart of the Torch and view the burner system which will kept the Olympic Flame alive on its journey around the UK. The Torch was tested in BMW’s climatic testing facility in Munich to make sure it can withstand all weather conditions, which it did. Yesterday, I was lucky enough to see one of those runner on her course as part of the team carrying the Flame to Startford. We, along with thousands of others, lined the streets in Fulham to see the procession that had traveled all the way from Greece.

David Beckham brings the torch to the stadium on it's final leg of the journey

So tonight, east London is awash with people from all over the world. In Great Britain, ticket prices range from £20 for many events to £2,012 for the most expensive seats at the opening ceremony. The three-hour spectacle, capturing the best of Britain, is set to be viewed by a TV audience of one billion people. A target of 70,000 volunteers was set as early as 2004 to make this possible. When recruitment took place in 2010, over 240,000 applications were received!

National icons including James Bond, David Beckham and Beatle Sir Paul McCartney will all feature with the Old Baked Bean — cockney slang for the Queen. The Royal Family was also present, as was the President of the United States and First Lady, Michelle Obama. Oscar-winning Slumdog Millionaire director Danny Boyle has masterminded the show tonight, which is costing £27 million to stage, less than half the cost of the Beijing extravaganza, but in my opinion, as a true lover of this wonderful, culturally and historically rich country, it's twice as fantastic. This dramatic spectacular that encompassed all thing beautifully British began on BBC with a beautifully crafted video showing what it is to be in London. The virtual tour of the city finishes at Stratford, where the real ceremony began.

Tour de France winner Bradley Wiggins, the first British winner who completed the race just days earlier, rang out the largest harmonically tuned bell in the world to set things off. Then, as costumed Brits marched in, Sir Kenneth Branagh, dressed as industrial pioneer Brunel, delivered a speech from Shakespeare's The Tempest. Crowds were rewarded with a startling spectacle covering all aspects of British social, political, industrial and creative history. The field at the stadium in Stratford in east London was turned into a green meadow, with a cast of 10,000 volunteers taking roles from British history. Real farmyard animals were grazing in the country scene, with a menagerie including 30 sheep, 12 horses, three cows, two goats and 10 chickens, plus three sheepdogs. The show took the watching world through "great revolutions in British society", from an agricultural setting through to the Industrial Revolution itself. Steelworkers began forging material that transformed into golden Olympic rings, which lifted into the air to be suspended above the performers.

That was the signal for a ceremony featuring began with children's choirs signing Jerusalem, Oh Danny Boy, Flower of Scotland and Bread of Heaven, and went on to include a dance routine by staff and patients from Great Ormond Street Hospital, which was incredibly touching. Their routine was on trampoline hospital beds that glowed a bright white on the darkened stage. Meanwhile, JK Rowling read an excerpt from JM Barry's 'Peter Pan'. Other moments of note included a celebration of Great Britain's widely diverse musical heritage with a glowing, flashing choreographed dance number which finished with an appearance by Sir Tim Berners Lee, the British creator of the world wide web.

Stunningly, in her first acting role, the Queen stars in a four-and-a-half minute film set in her private study at Buckingham Palace. "Good evening Mr Bond," the Queen said in the clip, where she briefed Daniel Craig, acting in his 007 role, on a "secret" mission ahead of the Olympic Games. She was seen to leave Buckingham Palace with Bond, and clambered aboard a helicopter, leaving behind her corgis Monty, Willow and Holly behind. A helicopter then flew over the stadium to the sound of the Bond theme tune, as two figures parachuted down, one dressed as the monarch. As if by magic, the Queen appeared in the stands at the stadium - part of a crowd of about 80,000 - amid cheers. Click the photo to watch it on youtube:

James Bond Escorts the Queen to the Plympics

The final act of the entertainment was a rendition of Abide with Me by Emeli Sande, before the start of the parade of the competing teams - as always, led by the team from Greece, the home of the ancient Olympic Games.

As the sports persons continue to march in it's wonderful to see so many people glowing and smiling. The Olympics are special because they bring people together from all over the world, as if all the hate and segregation and fighting between peoples pauses for just a moment in time. But that one moment is the relief we need to keep us going and rejuvenate our confidence in the goodness of people. The simple brilliance behind using a common love of games and sport to bring people together in a contest that celebrates hard work and dedication is awe-inspiring.

As Great Britain, the hosts, arrive in the stadium the sense of joy and celebration as 7 billion bits of biodegradable paper are released into the air, representing each person on the planet. It will be the first year GB is entering each of the 26 summer sports. To bring things to a close at the end of the night The Arctic Monkey's (from South Yorkshire, where I was just a few weeks ago) perform live while guys on bikes in the dark quietly coast in with glowing wings flapping.

The Queen has declared the London Olympics officially open, before seven young athletes were given the honour of lighting the ceremonial flame. And now London is the only city to host the Olympics 3 times. This year, every country competing will have female athletes, a major boost for gender equality. One of the greatest marathoners with two Olympic Golds, Haile Gebrselassie, helped to carry in the Olympic Flag with other promoters of human rights.

After speeches by the heads of the Olympic Committee, the identity of who was to light the symbolic flame had been shrouded in secrecy ahead of the ceremony. Opting for young athletes over one of Britain's sporting greats, the group of seven circled teh stadium, each with their own flag alight, and each lit a single tiny flame on the ground, which triggered the ignition of more than 200 copper petals, each representing a competing country. Long stems on the cauldron then rose towards each other to signify their unity. With the torch fully lit, Sir Paul McCartney lead the final song, Hey Jude. A staggering production and an immense performance.

David Beckham summed it up best. He said exactly what I want to say: It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. I know I am biased but, what the rest of the world will see, I don’t think any other country in the world could do it better. No other country could offer an opening ceremony which includes The Queen, our royal family, James Bond, Shakespeare, The Beatles, country villages, NHS nurses, centuries of history and some of the greatest music ever produced. It is an amazing mix that represents exactly what makes Britain so great.

Blink 182 in Brixton

2012-07-26T18:31:00.001-07:00

It's become the annual tradition for me to go see Blink 182 perform just days before I move out of one house and into another. What a better way to set off on the right foot than to listen to what I would classify as the best m0th3rfxck!n band out there, the one I listen to for hours and hours on repeat during every run in the morning, who's work I have memorized in its entirety, are the only 3 celebrities I've ever paid attention to with any interest, and the one and only band so much I've seen them 3 years in a row now. Because naturally when I hear they were touring Europe I had to go. Not optional. Heck, I would've gone to every show they did in London this summer if I had the cash.

After selling out every show on the tour they tacked two London shows at a smaller venue at the end. And according to the seller's website it was an open floor plan inside this venue, the O2 Academy Brixton. The Academy is one of London's leading music venues, nightclubs and theater and has hosted a range of leading rock acts since becoming a music venue in 1983. Wondering if last year's show in Detroit could possibly be beatable in terms of awesomeness, since we'd been handed two random tickets from people who couldn't use them to move to the front of the giant amphitheater and be within rows from the stage, I booked two tickets planning on being able to bash our way to the front of a small venue with no seating and REALLY be up close.

Brixton Academy

So two months after I booked the day finally arrived. We cut across south London on the wonderfully air-conditioned Overground on one of the remotely few hot, hot, hot sunny days we'd had this summer. It was so hot I had to abandon my black skinny jeans and Chucks for stupid shorts and slip-ons. But not to be discouraged, we arrived in Brixton with hours to spare. Dank, dirty, oily Brixton. I had no idea it was so much like inner-city Cleveland, meaning a dreadful place where I was, in fact, the minority by far. There are few spots in London I've found, in all my wanderings, that I really didn't like and mostly it was just for the fact it was too dirty and sleazy to be tolerable. I mean, ANYWHERE I go I avoid touching anything – London is just a dirty, crowded city where everything has a film of grime that's been accumulating since the beginning of time – but this place, Brixton, I didn't even want to let my feet touch the ground, it was that filthy.

When my phone refused to connect to the internet we scoped out a scalper to ask for directions to the Academy. Two blocks away from the station, this place was sort of down a side street and, like most theaters, looks smaller from the outside than it does inside. Since this is Britain there was, as expected, a giant queue already with most people sitting on that filthy ground alongside the wall of the venue that ran down a back street alley. I had to force myself not to think about the nastiness accumulating on their collective trousers and palms and purses as they lackadaisically sat about. *It was at this moment I realized I’m fully an adult. In fact, I no longer even wanted to be part of the little emo crowd I'd once belonged to any more. Transcendence in the weirdest of circumstances.* Every so often the line would condense unexpectedly during the following two hours. Meanwhile, people walked past handing out event fliers or asked for donations to charities or for spare change for the homeless.

Blink 182 Europe 2012 Tour Trailer

7PM the doors opened and I had my camera confiscated at the door. The first time I’ve never been allowed a camera at a concert. God forbid we take photos. If that's the problem they'd need to confiscate every cell phone, as well. Then two things happened. I realized the site I'd used for booking was garbage, as was the event website, because there most certainly WAS theater seating (From Wikipedia, it says RIGHT THERE: "As one of the biggest non-arena venues in London"...dammit) AND half up it was up on a frickin' balcony! And naturally, having tried to avoid that very thing, ended up sitting up there anyway. The second thing was that plenty of people had giant cameras and all around us they were flashing photos. Admittedly, I sulked for a while. Through the whole opening act, actually. Lower Than Atlantis, that's who opened. British boy band that I’d never heard of; all their stuff sounded the same. In a huff, I was at least able to console myself with the knowledge that I'd be hearing rock gods in just a few more minutes...even if it wasn't going to be from the front row, smashed into the barricade at the edge of the stage.

They opened with 'Feelin' This' and despite the fact the people in the balcony had to remain seated it was pretty intense...well, as intense as it can be while you're sitting. Normally it's physiologically impossible to be excited while sitting but they always explode with energy, those Blink guys. So even though I wasn't close enough to catch another drum stick I was able to sing along without feeling the need to take photos of every event on stage. I was able to literally sit back and enjoy the entertainment without a single distraction.

Blink goes acoustic!!

blink-182 'Going Away to College' & 'Dick Lips' Acoustic Live Brixton Academy 25-07-2012

The concert was divided into three segments. The first one was the longest with all the songs you'd expect, plus three off their newest album. Then – and this was insanely fantastic – they reassembled the stage to do an acoustic set of songs which they apparently did not do at any other gig (which I know because people were all a-Twitter-ing), and which haven't been recorded, as far as I’m aware, ever before as acoustics. So it was like this middle segment was an entirely novel bit of musical magic! The third set began with Travis's one-off drum solo, Can The Drummer Get Some, which is always pure energy and borderline mental.

We got lucky, too, because they had to cancel the final show the following night because Mark was diagnosed with an all-consuming, phlemmed-up sinus condition. So we literally caught the last show on the tour. Afterward, they were basically giving t-shirts and merch away out on the street so I coughed up a tenner for a black, logo-emblazoned tour T. Exhausted, but smiling, I made the ride home singing the songs over in my head to the beat of the bass that still pounded in my eardrums.

Literary Genius

2012-07-16T15:36:00.001-07:00

In case it wasn't made clear by the fact I write this blog, I'll spell it out for you: I love to write. Sounds like my way of introducing myself at an AA meeting..."Hi, I’m Emily," (the small crowd responds with the appropriate, if not lackadaisical, 'Hi Emily'), "And for the last 6 years I've been addicted to writing. I write down everything. I write stories and blogs and lists and comics and long letters. I keep journals and diaries and notebook after notebook of quotes and ideas and inspirations." And then I exhale an entirely audible sigh of relief, glad to get that off my chest.

Meeeee!!

But honestly, I do really love writing and while this blog is merely an informal list in itself, if you will, and more a way for me to keep track of everything I do in order to justify my existence in some manner, I do get a kick out of writing it; it's more for me than for you, readers. The point of me saying this, however, is not to minimize the importance of a reader. After all, what good is a book that no one reads? This is, in fact, the true point of this post. Literature and books and authors, that is.

Today I had the opportunity to meet two published authors on two entirely separate occasions. Ok, ok, that's a bit misleading because technically the first is a friend of mine whom I see nearly every day at my favorite local coffee shop. That information shouldn't lead you to assume he's “nothing special”, though. He's so advanced in his field that Oxford University just hired him into a professorship position three days ago, on Friday the 13^th, nonetheless. And in the spirit of this blog, not only is he a published author he's also meant to be tutoring literature students. French literature, if I’m not mistaken. No one can deny that that isn't a great job: professor of literature at Oxford, in one of the schools dating back to the 1600s. Besides, anyone who reads more than I do (as he obviously does) gets my full respect because such a one is hard to come by.

The Oxford skyline

Secondly, and thanks to Facebook and its targeted ad campaigns - which are typically failures if we're completely honest with ourselves - I happened upon an advertisement that was actually right up my alley. I discovered only a day in advance, just in time, that one of my favorite authors was going to be in London one day only at a talk/book signing at the Waterstone's book shop on Piccadilly, whose five stories of wall space are lined with photos of famous authors who have talks there. Knowing full well this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, most likely, I abandoned (and recklessly, if you like) my dissertation writing for the afternoon to make the trek through the puddles and sludge into Central.

Waterstone's

But alas, to my great dismay and disappointment the event was sold out. Sold out? I asked. The website said nothing about 'bookings required'. Frustrated, I managed to sneak a peak behind the magic “curtain” into the staging area for the talk and noticed at least half the seats were still empty. With only a few minutes left before show time I assumed they would want to fill those seats if no one arrived to claim them with a ticket in hand. So on this whim, I waited. And my patience paid off because they allowed several of us waiting to purchase a ticket at the last minute and fill the empty seats. I managed to grab one three rows from the front, dead center.

Then with a round of applause Harlan Coben made his entrance. It was refreshing to be in the presence of such an American guy; 6'4” (he announced before anyone asked), bald, and chalk-full of loud abrasive humor. I loved it. He was so down to earth and naturally funny, a characteristic which is reflected in all his books, famously in his lead guy 'Myron Bolitar'. The best part, and the main reason I wanted to attend, was the fact he spoke about the writing process and his background as an author. As an aspiring author, myself, it was incredibly motivating, as you can imagine these types of things are, as well as informational.

He actually had great tips to writing a great book and for the sake of committing them to my own memory as well as for sharing the wealth of wisdom I'll record, here, what I can remember of it. The first bit that struck me was in the form of a simple quote which came from another author (but could be applied to life as well), and in context of his talk referred to long-winded descriptions and how to keep a book interesting and moving right along; “Don't write anything you wouldn't want to read, yourself.” He also talked about the “creative process” and how he comes up with plots. And idea from a book can come from anything. The worst thing you could do at the start is try to follow in the footsteps of another author by continuing a trend in literature, like how everyone started writing religious conspiracy books after Dan Brown published 'The DaVinci Code”. Write was you want to write and the niche will form itself. He said it's split in half; 50% of authors use an outline for a book but he's not one of them. He compared writing the plot to driving at night in a fog. You start somewhere familiar (with the idea of the book) and then just go a little a time as you're only able to see what's right in front of you on the metaphorical road to book-completion.

Most profoundly, perhaps, though not an original thought by any means, was his view on work ethic. Basically, anyone who REALLY wants to do something will never use “I don't have the time” as an excuse to NOT do something. He used the example of a famous female author, Mary Higgins Clark. She had 5 kids, her husband had died, and at least one, if not both, of her parents died. She worked full time to support her family while going to school for a Bachelor's degree but woke at 5AM every morning and wrote until 7AM, at which time she woke the children and went to work, herself, at a self-run company for which she made literally no profit for the first 8 months, pawning her engagement ring to stay afloat financially. Long story short, she's now listed as one of Forbe's Top 10 most influential female authors. The point to drive home is that every single person has the same number of hours a day as the likes of Higgins Clark, DaVinci, the President of the United States, Gandhi, Mozart, etc etc etc...the list goes on and on. So don't use your stupid trivialities as excuses to not DO something. Turn off the damn television and DO something with your life. After all, it's pretty pathetic to think that watching someone else's life on TV is more interesting than living your own. It doesn't have to and shouldn't be that way.

After the talk Coben, of course, did a book signing. So naturally, I was obliged to purchase his newest thriller and stand in line to get it signed. Despite the fact a nasty, impatient lady at the end of the line kept whining rather loudly that the queue was moving too slowly, Coben took his time to chat to each person and take photos and joke about a bit. I bought the book for one my best friends here in the UK and had Coben sign the book to him. We talked briefly about the ridiculousness of British food after I commented on the fact I needed to introduce said friend to the wonders of American literature, because some things we have to offer in the USofA really ARE just the awesome.

So that is my day in a nutshell, as the cliché goes. A day of literary genius.

Yorkshire

2012-07-10T16:32:00.002-07:00

It's been nearly a year since I came to the UK and since then I've been lucky enough to make a few really close friends who've been nice enough to bring me home with them and show me around their hometowns and surrounding bits of England. Yeah, maybe the other non-UK-ers in London don't particularly care about the rest of the country and would rather shove off to mainland Europe, etc., for a holiday, but honestly I came to live in England because I love it HERE and prefer to see more of IT than travel on to somewhere foreign/abroad if I’m given the choice right now.

The last four days I've been touring Yorkshire, a county in Northern England and the biggest in the UK. But not only is Yorkshire a territorial region, it also has a very strong cultural identity and the people have their own distinct dialect. You know, like how there's that posh British English that the Oxfordians speak, there's Cockney English, English accents distinctly from Liverpool and Essex, etc...same with Yorkshire and to me, with an uneducated ear that can't distinguish between them all with any hint at accuracy, the Yorkshire kids all sound a bit Scottish. Maybe it's because they ARE fairly far north and thus have Scottish influence. Again, I don't know. According to the always-reliable Wikipedia: Yorkshire is generally not as stigmatized as other dialects, and has been used in classic works of literature such as Wuthering Heights.

What I DO know, though, is that Yorkshire is very much the English equivalent of Ohio, particularly Cleveland. Similarly, most of is rural but what isn't is formerly steel and coal mining towns (especially Sheffield) which all deteriorated after these products were no longer in such high demand. However, Unlike Cleveland, I don't think their rivers were polluted enough from it to light on fire. Both places have rough, but proud, residents that work hard and often grungy, tough jobs, but it's still a tightly knit community of people, nonetheless. Both are consumed by rain and rarely see the sun, minus the rare peek though the overwhelming cloud cover. But as a result, Yorkshire is one of the greenest counties in England. Vast stretches of unspoiled countryside in the Yorkshire Dales and North York Moors are perfect examples. We both have similar music styles; basically, rock and punk. Def Leppard was from there, as was Pulp, Kaiser Chiefs, and the Arctic Monkeys. To go off on a tangent, other famous people from Yorkshire (and I only included the ones I think Americans will easily recognize, because the list was actually quite long) include: Dame Judi Dench, the Bronte sisters, Sir Patrick Stewart, Sir Ben Kingsly, Guy Fawkes, two Prime Ministers,

My journey took me first to Sheffield, where my connecting train was canceled due to flooding. I won't deny I was warned about the infamous crap transport outside London which makes traveling not only intolerable but literally impossible on occasion. Like I said, Sheffield traditionally has had heavy industrial manufacturing such as coal mining and the steel industry but since the decline of such industries Sheffield has attracted tertiary and administrative businesses including a growing retail trade, particularly with the development of Meadowhall. Meadowhall was our Day #2 excursion, so I'll come back to that. Thankfully, after a 2-ish hour delay connecting trains began running again from Sheffield and I was able to get on my way to Wombwell, final stop en route to my final destination: Hemingfield, a village in the metropolitan borough of Barnsley, South Yorkshire. We spent the first afternoon touring the localized area and taking photos.

The second day we took the train back they way I'd arrived the day before, but stopped before Sheffield, at Meadowhall. This is one of the Westfield shopping malls, I think, and is the largest one in Yorkshire. Built on top a of an old steelworks site with over 280 stores, Meadowhall was actually blamed for the closure of many shops in Sheffield City Centre and in Rotherham. The River Don runs alongside it and overflows from time to time, inundating the mall. Thankfully, despite the floods in the area the day before, the mall itself hadn't been submerged.

The next day we wandered around Elsecar, a coal mining village next to the villages of Hoyland and Jump, going through old antiques, drinking proper Yorkshire tea, and having a walk around the nature reserve where they apparently keep sheep at the bottom of a hill.

Monday we went to York, a first for us both. "York is unusual among English cities for at least two reasons. First, the industrial revolution largely passed it by. York did not undergo the massive economic upheaval (population growth, re-building etc.) found in other English cities. Second, the predominant in-migrations in the 19th century were from local (Northeastern and Yorkshire) dialects…. For these reasons, York has retained a somewhat conservative character." (Tagliamonte, 1998: 158). York is a walled city founded by the Romans in 71 AD. The city has a rich heritage and has provided the backdrop to major political events throughout much of its two millennia of existence. In the Middle Ages, York grew as a major wool trading centre and became the capital of the northern ecclesiastical province of the Church of England, a role it has retained. In the 19^th century York became a hub of the railway network and a confectionery manufacturing centre. The city offers a wealth of historic attractions, of which York Minster Cathedral is the most prominent. It is the largest Gothic cathedral in northern Europe and since it seemed completely awesome we chose to spend the £5 to climb up to the roof. Afterward, we spent the rest of the day safely on the ground.

The cutest little street in York is called The Shambles. It is a very old street with overhanging timber-framed buildings, some dating back as far as the fourteenth century. It was once known as The Great Flesh Shambles. (During that period there were no sanitary facilities or hygiene laws as exist today, and guts and blood were thrown into a runnel down the middle of the street or open space where the butchering was carried out. By extension, any scene of total disorganization and mess is now referred to as "a shambles"). As recently as 1872 there were twenty-five butchers' shops in the street but now there are none. Although the butchers have now vanished, a number of the shops on the street still have meat-hooks hanging outside and, below them, shelves on which meat would have been displayed. The shops currently comprise a mixture of eateries and souvenir shops, but there is also a bookshop and a baker.

After three days of essentially non-stop walking, we took the morning off before I had to leave for London, a five hour journey in itself. That's the problem when you don't own your own car any more, you have to rely on other people (or trains) to get you from A to B and, thus, are at the mercy of their time-tables. But, alas, I made it back safe and sound to my big city where another week of data analysis for my dissertation awaits.

The Photographers' Gallery: Burtynsky’s OIL

2012-06-30T12:00:00.000-07:00

With less than a month left until I move out of the dorms and into a real house I’m forcing myself to spend most days up to that point doing data analysis for my dissertation rather than roaming the streets of London while I’m still living close enough to Central to do so. Once I move out to Zone 6 besides being just plain farther out I'll have all the responsibilities that come with working. The end day time free time as I've known it. But hey, at least I can say I've made the most of it, right? In comparison to the other student's I've gotten to know here, and in comparison to the Londoners I've met and gotten to know as well, I make more of a point of getting out and doing stuff and exploring than basically all of them. Which is exactly how, today, I discovered the newly opened Photographers' Gallery in Soho, free to the public, just a block away from Oxford Street.

As their name would suggest, The Photographers' Gallery is the largest public gallery in London dedicated to photography, as well as the first independent gallery in Britain to be dedicated to photography. Once occupying two buildings on a different site, the new gallery on Ramillies Street is a converted warehouse, five floors of which are dedicated to exhibitions.

The current exhibit features Canadian photographer Edward Burtynsky who traveled the world to chronicle the effect of oil on all our lives, and to reveal the rarely seen mechanics of its production and distribution.

From the site: This exhibition shows three sections from Burtynsky’s series OIL: Extraction and Refinement, Transportation and Motor Culture and The End of Oil. The works depict landscapes scarred by the extraction of oil, and the cities and suburban sprawl defined by its use. He also eloquently addresses the coming end of oil, as we face its rising cost and dwindling availability.

Burtynsky's color photographs render his subjects with a transfixing clarity of detail. From aerial views of oil fields and highways ribboning across the landscape, to derelict oil derricks and mammoth oil-tanker shipbreaking operations, we are confronted with the evidence of our dependence on this finite resource.

The places photographed in the exhibition sections Extraction and Refinement and The End of Oil are often remote and unknown. Although they are vast, they are out of view and not places we are likely to experience. The large format photographic process that Burtynsky uses enables acute detail within large-scale prints. He uses helicopters, cranes and other high vantage points to create aerial, ‘birds eye view’ shots of the places and subjects he photographs. He rarely uses close up. This distancing effect gives a clear impression of the vastness of these operations.

“Human beings

taking things from

nature to provide for

themselves is not new,

but the scale is. So if I

wanted to photograph

a quarry, I’d look for

the biggest to show the

gigantic proportions

of what we take from

the land”.

Edward Burtynsky

Not surprisingly, much of his work featured landscapes in America: oil refineries in Texas, interstates in Los Angeles, tire disposal sites in California, car manufacturing plants, highway exits stops, airplane dismantling yards...

Burtynsky has said that he wants his audience to be engaged by both the beauty and the horror of his images – to be both attracted and repelled.

This Is Where I Live

2012-06-22T10:49:00.000-07:00

Really, I just wanted an excuse to share this photo (see below).

I didn't take it, but it's awesome. And kind of encompasses why I love living here in "a picture's worth a thousand words"-type way.

Because I DO still love living here and haven't regretted leaving the US for a second. In just over a month I'll be moving out of my dorm room, away from a campus, to a real, normal house with my own room. Less than a year since I came to London originally and already I'm packing up all over again. But as much of a hassle as moving typically is, I don't mind it. Not only do I not own much - just clothes, really, no furniture to my name over here - but packing up and going somewhere else always means fun adventures lie ahead! Which sounds completely corny and cheesy but that doesn't mean it's not true! I'll have a whole new part of London to explore and loads of new people to meet and an entirely different lifestyle, one other than 'broke student'.

I've become so accustomed to moving around after packing up and going to new schools all over the place that change and relocation doesn't bother me at all. I'm really looking forward to it, actually. Just a month away!

Slam Dunk Festival

2012-06-14T15:08:00.000-07:00

As if by prophecy or some space-time continuum linking one May 27^th to the next, the sun always shines right on me on my birthday. Always. No matter where I am in the world. That's how I knew in advance I could count on an all-day musical festival being the ideal outdoor birthday experience party thinger day-out event. To make things better, May 27^th fell on a weekend and was also the one day a week my best friend had off work, and a music festival with American alt-rock (my favorite genre) was being hosted by his alma mater. A perfect coincidence.

So the day I turned 25 (gasp! I’m so old!) I was already in Colchester (which I will discuss separately in a later blog), which is Northeast of London, in Essex, staying at my friend's house for 5 days. That morning the plan was to hike (meaning drive) to Harfordshire (about an hour away) and then basically rock out all afternoon to some killer tunage while we baked and turned red in the hot sun.

Having already roasted myself to a crisp days before, I figured a bit more skin cancer couldn't hurt and went for the minimalist look. Plus, I could enhance my oncoming tan and keep cool in the blistering sun all at once.

We melted in the car on the way. It's always nice to start the day sweating, clothes nicely dampened before you even arrive at your destination. And that aspect of the day had only just begun. When we arrived the fully-English experience known as “queuing” was in full swing. The line wrapped and wrapped all around the sidewalks, piling up, on and on. Tons of people. Luckily, waiting in line is my favorite. Which was great since we got to do that for 2.5 hours, missing the first acts of the day. And for no good reason, mostly just so people could slowly make their way past the security tent at a leisurely pace. I've never seen anything like it.

Standing in a crowded queue, or a pile of people in something resembling a line, afforded us the opportunity, however, to engage with drunken students and youths our own age. As usual, everyone was stoked to discover an American in their midst. They were eager to share their opinions of the US and to rattle off stories of visiting Vegas or NYC, because no one ever visits anywhere other than those two cities when they travel to the US. After you've seen those you've seen it all, apparently.

Finally, we passed under the tent, the one where people were taking their good, old time, holding up 100s of others behind them for no real reason at all. Off to the left was the main stage, the other 5 stages were spaced out off to the right. Of the 40+ bands that played that day we wanted to watch Zebrahead (which we missed while we stood in line), Say Anything, Motion City Soundtrack, Funeral for a Friend, Cartel, Forever the Sickest Kids, and Taking Back Sunday (the headlining act). As you can tell, I was really only interested in American acts. Unfortunately most of the bands, as a whole, were playing off new albums that I hadn't heard...and as we all know, after some of these guys go mainstream their music starts to suck. Badly. Which was the case for all but Cartel and FtSK, which still rocked and played old, good stuff along with newer, good stuff. The others' songs all sounded the same after a few tracks. Admittedly, we were both a bit disappointed. But hey, it was music & sun & lots of jumping, singing kids all smashed together...and for that, I loved it. Seriously one of my favorite environments, as cheesy as that sounds.

Cartel singing 'Honestly'...awesome some, kind of a lame vid though...

Taking Back Sunday had approx a 2 hour set, but started off with their new stuff before they got around to playing their good, older numbers...the ones I knew and could jam along to. The only one I recognized early on was the song “Faith” featured on the Transformers soundtrack because it was WAY overplayed on the radio last summer...so much so that we had a running joke about it because our favorite station played it twice in a row at one point. So when it started I had to laugh, reliving memories with my buddies from Bay.

This is for you, jeffy, though "You might lose your faith in science...":

MINT Polo in the Park 2012

2012-06-10T15:44:00.004-07:00

Before circling back two weeks to relive the events of May 27^th I'll tell you about the MINT Polo in the Park event while it's still fresh in my mind. There are two things to love about this sport, polo. One, the beautiful, graceful, perfected and largely expensive horses. And two, the beautiful, rich, pampered and perfectly dressed men. Everything else is merely added fluff and fancy.

But those tertiary delights of a London polo match, to be fair, aren't that far behind in the rankings. The event took place at Hurlingham Park, which is historically linked to polo (see below), and was sponsored by the best of the best. Harrods department store, which as we know encompasses seven floors of exquisite collections across 4.5 acres, provided the food for the event. Veuve Clicquot, both a champagne house in Reims, France, and a brand of premium Champagne, was, not surprisingly, the champagne sponsor. Founded in 1772 by Philippe Clicquot-Muiron, Veuve Clicquot played an important role in establishing champagne as a favored drink of haute bourgeoisie and nobility throughout Europe and today they had a centrally located stand behind one of the two goal posts.

Other sponsors include (with descriptions pulled from the official event website):

La Martina, the quintessential international polo brand, representing the elegance, prestige and tradition of the game of polo itself. La Martina is the world's leading supplier of technical polo equipment and clothing, and the brand of choice of discerning polo professionals worldwide.

Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park Hotel is London’s “most fashionable address”. Blending sumptuous guestrooms with award-winning restaurants, a world-leading spa and bustling bar, it is the definitive destination for a luxury escape in the capital.

Camino Real Polo & Country Club is set in 770 acres of beautiful Argentinean countryside in the polo Capital of the world. Being built by polo enthusiasts for polo enthusiasts this unique first class development will be both home, holiday destination and place of work for people who have two things in common, their love of all things polo and equestrian and their desire for the best available facilities.

....as well as Audi, Evian, and a slew of financial consultants, health clubs, and other upper-echelon organizations.

A bit of history/context: Polo was first played at Hurlingham Park in 1874. In 1908 Hurlingham hosted the Olympic polo final (where England won a gold medal). The Hurlingham Club was the headquarters of British polo for 65 years, and the name became synonymous with the sport, but during the Second World War the polo ground was converted into allotments, with the last major polo event taking place in 1939. However, now for the fourth year running, Hurlingham Park hosted the world's top polo players as they battled it out in a furious display of horsemanship.

Polo in the Park was actually a 3-day event, with today being the MINT final and Plate final, two hard-fought polo battles, Australia verses Moscow, followed by London versus Buenos Aries. Between games entertainment was provided by The Devils Horsemen (the stunt display team most recently seen in Steven Spielberg’s epic movie ‘War Horse’). We had perfectly situated grandstand seats at the equivalent of the 50 yard line, only 12 rows from the front...the ideal spot from which to view both goals and take great photos of the horses (though, alas, like a proper fool I forgot my camera). The event reminded me very much of the Kentucky Derby (minus the infield and the exorbitant betting), with everyone dressed nicely, surrounded by horses and riders (though not mini riders, but normal sized, super fit, manly horsemen!), drinking fancy, expensive drinks........but even better because the excitement lasts longer than the typical 2 minutes at the Derby. And unlike most sports, it was simple and easy to follow, with 'periods' lasting only six minutes a piece so that even those of us who hate watching sports can get in on the excitement for explosive segments, perfectly timed to a length long enough to encourage enthusiastic cheers throughout but still short enough to keep everyone's attention throughout. So you watch some gorgeous horses and some gorgeous men and then go grab another glass of champagne or a fresh pina colada served in a real, giant pineapple. In the background you can always hear a bit of prattle from lively Cockney commentators and you can tell, thankfully, this event doesn't take itself too seriously. So while it IS all a bit upper class it's definitely a load of fun, especially if you get dressed up and go along with a group of friends.

PS. For those of you who've seen Pretty Woman, they really DO let everyone onto the field between matches to fill in the divets.

Eurovision

2012-06-07T11:38:00.004-07:00

I grew up without TV and thank God for that. I've never seen so much rubbish in one place in all my life. If I had the choice between digesting Andrew Wiles' mathematical proof of Fermat's Last Theorem and the garbage on the telly......wait, I DID have that choice just yesterday!....and guess which one I chose?

Damn right!

If only the proof wasn't over 100 pages long I'd describe it to you, but alas, it is.

the twin duo 'Jedward' representing Ireland

And yet I, in all my disgust, can be persuaded to watch really shit TV from time to time. Usually there needs to be a reward involved if I’m to participate, though. In this case, I was promised some seriously unreal entertainment.

Eurovision, I was told in advance, is one of Britain's most embarrassing links to the rest of Europe...and rightly so. Even I, with my limited exposure to trash programming, could tell this televised song contest was absolute, utter rubbish. In all my life I've never seen such talentless performing. And having been involved in 12+ years worth of amateur theater and musical performance, I can speak from direct personal experience.

The 2012 performance stage

The Eurovision Song Contest is one of the longest running television shows in the world. The project began in 1955 when the European Broadcasting Union came up with the idea of an international song contest whereby countries, represented by their respective public broadcasters, would participate in one television show, to be transmitted simultaneously in all represented nations. In those days it was very ambitious to join many countries together in a wide-area international network. Without interruption, the Eurovision Song Contest has been broadcast every year since 1956, which makes it one of the longest-running television programmes in the world. Who knew? Seriously, has anyone in the US ever heard of this thing before?

One of the favorites to win, the grandmas from Russia

Today it claims, unabashedly, to be “One of the most typical European traditions and without doubt, Europe's favorite TV show,” which to me sounds like a leap and a bound away from the truth, but what do I know? I suppose it MAY be popular in other countries but, thank Christ, it isn't taken seriously here in the UK. If it was, I’d have to leave.

After decades have passed to potentially perfect this program, and particularly NOW with all the song competition programs in existence to use as inspiration and a basis for 'what IS talent', you'd think Eurovision would have its act together. But alas, it's crap. Even the UK broadcasters mock their own involvement as well as all the acts as they perform. Meanwhile, the rest of Europe seems to really fight for the win. Votes are largely a popularity contest with the most given to the richest countries first, and then to the neighboring countries of the voting country. And the UK never wins because, apparently, the rest of Europe hates them...probably because of their close alliance with the US, the nation most hated across the globe.

Loreen, the winner, representing Sweden.

You know what, I’m just going to let some samples from the finale competition, which took place in Azerbaijan (WTF? Is this REALLY a place? Like a real country?) speak for themselves:

English lyrics (excerpt) for "Party for Everybody" by Russian ladies:
I will be putting a white tablecloth,
I will be waiting for kids coming back home.
The dough is rising joyously.
And my heart is cheering.
Party for everybody! Dance!
Come on and dance!
Come on and dance!
Come on and… Boom! Boom!
The house is full of kids, the relatives have come.
I am going to put on my green dress,
I am going to tie a white head cloth.
And I am going to dance.
We are singing extremely strongly.
We are dancing soulful, so soulful!
We are singing extremely strongly,
Because we are together!
Party for everybody! Dance!
Come on and dance!
Come on and dance!
Come on and …
Party for everybody! Dance!
... etc

"Suus" by Albanian lady with no vocal talent whatsoever.
English translation (excerpt):
In this world, love lives no more
Time has no time for us anymore, no
Noo, oh
Noo… oh…
Time has no time for us anymore
My airplane lands
On your souls’s runway without lights.
They elbow their way and rise today,
Those who couldn’t live yesterday.

"Waterline" by the Irish twins, Jedward, that no one likes.

"Love Me Back" by the Turkish guys...hey, at least they made a boat out of capes!!

And this sick little number by Modlova...lyrics seem a bit inappropriate for this kind of contest...AND for this style of music. Like dirty ska or something?

The London Eye

2012-06-01T15:47:00.000-07:00

I took advantage of the mini break in the typically grey weather. We had two days in SW London where it was warm and sunny and heavenly and, like a typical American girl, I went and baked myself in the sun. And although I got got burned to a crisp and suffered a full week of painful redness and nearly unbearable itchiness as layers of my back peeled away, and am probably on the shortlist for skin cancer as a result, I’m now a glorious shade of golden brown. It's a well-known fact that everything done with a tan is at least 10% more awesome and 90% more attractive!

Me with my first English sunburn, making a really stupid face

During the same week I suffered the discomforts associated with sunburn I was happily distracted by a nifty array of birthday-linked activities. This post describes the first day of birthday-ing.

These past few months I've neglected describing all the different restaurants I've tried, mostly because they all seem great to me and I’m not much of a food critic. Frankly, I’m happy just to have someone else cook for me and serve me the food I select off a list of choices. As long as the dish doesn't look questionable when it's served and doesn't make me ill afterward I’m usually satisfied, especially if I haven't had to trade in an arm and a leg for it. But in this case, stop #1 on my first birthday day was to The Square in Mayfair, a 2 Michelin Star Central London restaurant. While many of his peers are fawning for the TV cameras or signing cookbooks, Philip Howard is at the stove, attending to the finer points of unimpeachable, grade-A contemporary cuisine. Although it can feel a bit corporate and the acoustics leave something to be desired (I felt like I was talking loudly just to be heard cross a small, two-person table), such gripes seem churlish when Howard reliably delivers ‘perfectly paced’ cooking and sheer indulgent class. Nearly every table was occupied by smartly dressed business types that Thursday afternoon, which isn't a surprise considering the location right off Old Bond St. Appropriately named, The Square is an angular, impersonal room, but also very open and light and clean-white. Sober and modern. Luckily, in contrast to the room itself, service was friendly as well as plentiful. We had so many waiters and servers such come to our table there was never a moment when I feared I wouldn't be properly gastronomically pampered.

Flavors are big and complex, and saucing is exquisite. Paired with my first Earl Grey iced tea in London, a real treat for an American used to the sweet, cool southern drink easily found anywhere in the US but nowhere in the UK, we were served an amuse bouche before the meal of potato foam and salmon on the side, plus a current and walnut bread selection with warm butter was a lovely, light way to begin the meal. The starter was the chef's special that day, Roast Isle of Orkney Scallops with peas, broad beans, morels and parmesan. I love seafood, so I couldn't resist sticking to it with a main of sauté of John Dory with turnip tops, snails, morels, peas and parmesan. For dessert, crème caramel with candied fruit (I know there were raisins but I couldn't tell what the other fruit was...something sugar-coated so it's not like I worried about labeling it, really) and warm blood orange brioche roulade. £80 a person for four courses, so it wasn’t a cheap lunch, but we had a fabulous time. Though it’s never been the trendiest restaurant on the block, but The Square is a benchmark for pure-bred, French-inspired culinary sophistication.

These aren't all photos of what we ate, specifically, that day but they were pretty photos from the slideshow on the website

Feeling fully, well, full after several hours of lingering dining and conversation, we made out way south via the underground to Westminster Station, just across the river from the London Eye, destination #2 for birthday day #1...interestingly, a perfect Circle in contrast to The Square....

It is the tallest Ferris wheel in Europe, and the most popular paid tourist attraction in the United Kingdom, visited by over 3.5 million people annually.When erected in 1999, it was the tallest Ferris wheel in the world, until surpassed first by the 160 m (520 ft) Star of Nanchang in 2006, and then the 165 m (541 ft) Singapore Flyer in 2008. It is still described by its operators as "the world's tallest cantilevered observation wheel" (as the wheel is supported by an A-frame on one side only, unlike the Nanchang and Singapore wheels). Originally the Millennium Wheel, the London Eye was officially called the British Airways London Eye and then the Merlin Entertainments London Eye. Since 20 January 2011, its official name is the EDF Energy London Eye following a three-year sponsorship deal.

Inside a capsule, at night (duh!)

Either way, whatever you want to call it, “The Eye has done for London what the Eiffel Tower did for Paris, which is to give it a symbol and to let people climb above the city and look back down on it. Not just specialists or rich people, but everybody. That's the beauty of it: it is public and accessible, and it is in a great position at the heart of London.” Writing for G2 in an article from August 2007, Steve Rose described the Eye as follows, “The Eye... exists in a category of its own.... It essentially has to fulfill only one function, and what a brilliantly inessential function it is: to lift people up from the ground, take them round a giant loop in the sky, then put them back down where they started. That is all it needs to do, and thankfully, that is all it does.”

Northeast London

2012-05-22T12:43:00.000-07:00

Village green

Near the deer sanctuary

I turn 25 in six days!! *gasps* I can hardly believe it! It's not necessarily the most monumental of birthdays, unless you're in the US and you've just been ACHING to rent a car for forever, in which case you really, really need to get a life. In my case, I wouldn't even dream of renting a car over here...drivers seat on the opposite side of the car, stick shift, opposite side of the road....yeah, I wouldn't last to see my 26^th birthday. As it stands at age 25 life is probably about 1/3 over if you assume you're living the average lifespan and will die at 75...or if you're “lucky” (a very relative term taking into consideration quality of life factors), you're only a ¼ of the way done and you're going to live til the ripe of age of 100, when you'll be a real stunner...a saggy bag of bones, always in some sort of pain, and probably wishing you WERE dead. So either way.

Epping Forest

For the past few years my birthday days have been a bit crap. I’m either not at home and I’m alone at school (because apparently I never make good enough friends to celebrate birthdays with), or if I am at home some “friend” manages to ruin it. But honestly I’m not complaining. In fact I really don't care much...if anything we should be celebrating our mothers and fathers on our birthdays, am I right?!? If it weren't for them, well, there wouldn't be a YOU..or a ME, in this case, since it's MY birthday.

around Loughton

Anyway, this year turned out to be quite different. I’m on a completely different continent, to start, but I also got 2 frickin' awesome birthday presents. The first is actually an event ON the actual day. Turns out a load of my favorite bands from the US are doing a Warped Tour-type show (which I’m shamelessly addicted to) on that day at my friend's school just north of London. So I'll be getting out of London for two days to flippin' rock out to seriously awesome music!! More to come on this when I return!! This will be a story in itself, guaranteed.

The second birthday present technically isn't a present at all. It's more just, well, good news and a change in circumstance, and for all of your who've followed this string since I've been here you'll know how badly I've wanted this. So here it is: All in one day I got a job AND a place to live in London!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was so happy I could've cried, but I didn't because I gave that up three years ago ;)

Birds eye view of my new home location come July, with Epping Forest on the upper horizon

But seriously, for real....I will be living and working up in Loughton, an absolutely gorgeous part of Northeast London where, it turns out, a lot of the “new money” people live. You know, like football players and their wives, TV stars the equivalent of Kim Kardashian who don't exactly do anything but are famous and rich nonetheless. That's what I was told, anyway, and had I been familiar with these stars I would've have recognized several on the street that day...we passed them and they were pointed out to me but as I never watch TV I was clueless. But wait, I’m painting a poor picture of this place....it's actually beautiful, with a London-Old English feel, combined. There are miles of trails through Epping Forest (I put some photos up here, as I'm sure you've seen....I stole them, they aren't mine...I haven't had a chance to take any of my own yet) and horses and families and open space and grass and trees and tiny streets with old buildings and little shops and British people! I've only been up there once but I’m already in love with it. That could partly be due to the fact it's my dream come true. It's finally happened and all my searching and planning and hoping paid off.

Orcs filming in Epping Forest!!

A less Orc-y shot

Also, it's very near Olympic Park, which is in Stratford, just a few stops earlier on the Central Line. All the water events, meaning the river rafting, kayaking, etc., and not swimming, are taking place right there in the Loughton area. Driving past, I got to see the course under construction.

Stratford Westfield

The day after that was settled and agreed upon I went back up to Stratford to the new Westfield shopping mall, built very recently, I believe, for the Olympic Games. Not that they're introducing a a new event called the “Shopping Marathon”, though that would be totally awesome and and they'd have some serious competition from the female group in London. No. More along the lines of they built a mall to accommodate the need to shop til you drop in close proximity to the games.

4 floors of shopping!

I'd heard many, many times how amazing these Westfield malls are and that I just HAD to go visit if I liked shopping even at ALL. Well, since it is a guilty pleasure...I mean honestly, what girl can resist shopping in London?...I finally got around to going when a buddy suggested we meet there, as his train from Essex stopped there. Unfortunately, neither of us was too impressed despite the fact it is brand new and cost a whopping 1.4 Billion (with a B) pounds to build and is now officially Europe's largest shopping center. BUT it looks just like most US malls, the big ones on multiple floors. Guess I’m just too used to that super-sized lifestyle. Plus, all the store were exactly the same as the ones on Oxford St in central London. Nothing new. And my friend didn't like it because it was too crowded and loud, which I'd have to agree with. See?? Look:

Literally, sitting across from one another in Costa we had to yell at each other to be heard at all. It was a bit ridiculous. So instead of doing much shopping, and since it's also my policy to make guy friends shop with me as infrequently as possible so that they don't hate me, we went to see 'The Dictator'. You know, that new Sacha Baron Cohen film. Got a few laughs, for sure. Although this movie was his first with a full script since 2002 in 'Ali G', it was decently entertaining, particularly his speech at the end when he cunningly compared the USA to a dictatorship. I had every intention of sharing that speech but I couldn't find a clip or a script anywhere so, yeah, forget it.

Mall in the foreground, Stadium in the background

LSO at Trafalgar Square

2012-05-14T15:14:00.000-07:00

While all my friends back in Cleveland - my high school buddies and neighbors from high school, mostly, but other college friends, as well - are gettin' themselves hitched and popping out beautiful new babies, I’m over here in London, newly single AGAIN, and am enjoying my additional free time out in the city, of COURSE! I mean, seriously, you have to basically be trying NOT to be happy if you live here; there's so much to entertain, all the time. And so much of it is free! Which, obviously, is great if you're a student, like me, or just a cheapskate. No, I’m totally kidding...everyone should take advantage of the free events in London because they're usually really, really good.

In the most recent instance the London Symphony Orchestra, henceforth known as LSO, and BMW (think “cars”), as a result of a long-standing partnership, together put on an open air concert in Trafalgar Square, aiming to bring classical music out of the concert hall and into the great outdoors, to expose a whole new audience to its beauty and style. This is one of the world's most prominent orchestras, based at the Barbican, however, they also have annual residencies in New York, Paris and the Aix-en-Provence Festival. The LSO, fun fact, recorded soundtracks for hugely popular films such as Star Wars, The King's Speech and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Still, it was totally informal; anyone could just show up and hundreds of people did. The giant T. Square was completely packed to bursting. Luckily, we were right up front against the barricade at the edge of the stage...always the best spot at any kind of concert! But for those farther back, giant screens were set up on either side of the platform.

On the menu that afternoon was Russian composer Igor Stravinsky's 'Fireworks', 'The Firebird Suite' and 'The Rite of Spring' conducted by Valery Gergiev, the orchestra's principle conductor. Additionally, a performance of Gareth Glyn's 'The Lite of Spring' by 100 young musicians from LSO Discovery (the orchestra's music education and community program) charmed the audience.

Cellist right above us on stage, taking a photo of the crowd with his iPhone

It was very well done and, in my opinion, is a fantastic idea...to have a free outdoors concert, that is. These days most people, unless they're classically trained musically, as I was, have very little exposure to classical music despite the fact it was the building blocks for modern music. Yes, it's in movies and TV and all, but that doesn't count. So yes, I admit it, I am grateful I was forced to learn to play the piano for 12 years, despite the fact I hated practicing with a raging passion....it made reading music a breeze and made playing any other instrument and singing so much easier, too. Plus, when you understand the effort it takes to practice and perform a piece of music, when you realize how challenging one piece is compared to others, and how intricate some can be...that's when music transforms into a real art form, so much more than just a tune on an iPod channeling background music straight into your ears. And that's when you can appreciate music in all it's forms, too, whether you enjoy the particular style or the artist or not!

This one is going to be short and sweet because, honestly, I have to get to sleep.

Oddly enough, Jesus made an appearance and, in effect, stole the show. (no, this was a different day...I lied).

Leonardo da Vinci: Anatomist

2012-05-06T10:48:00.000-07:00

As anyone with half a brain knows this time of year marks the end of school....or at least the end of the semester (or term, if you're British). Of course those of us who are older students continue through the summer, dreaming of the days when we, too, could bask in the glory of a “Summer Vacation”. But that's beside the point. The point is, this time of year marks a very key point in a student's academic career. It is the point at which we are all collectively assessed to determine whether or not one modicum of smarts stuck somewhere in our brains at one point or another during the school year. That which I refer to, of course, is The Final Exam. Luckily enough, I’m exempt from such trivialities at my age....meaning, as I said above, I trade in my summer freedom for freedom from testing. Not willingly, mind you. That's just how the system works, dammit.

Anyway, again, it is at this time of year when normally we as students review all we've learned and try to recall bits and bobs to write down on a piece of paper to prove we're not all brain dead. Most often, we realize we've forgotten most of what we learned in the beginning of the year and have to study, study, study to refresh ourselves, reminding ourselves in the process how perfectly daft we are, in many cases and in many subject areas.

SO, that said....have I got a treat for you! I have discovered something that can push you to feel even MORE underachieving, thick and basically completely inadequate and mediocre!!

Leonardo da Vinci (need I really say more? Ok, Ok, I will...), was an unthinkably brilliant man and so far ahead of his time that his achievements continue to impress us hundreds of years later. I was irritated back in January/February when I failed to get tickets for the exhibit of his works they'd had at the National Gallery, but yesterday I saw something better. In my opinion, anyway.

The Queen's Gallery at Buckingham Palace is hosting the exhibit 'Leonardo da Vinci: Anatomist'. From the website: This exhibition is the largest ever of Leonardo da Vinci’s studies of the human body. Leonardo has long been recognised as one of the great artists of the Renaissance, but he was also a pioneer in the understanding of human anatomy. He intended to publish his ground-breaking work in a treatise on anatomy, and had he done so his discoveries would have transformed European knowledge of the subject. But on Leonardo’s death in 1519 the drawings remained a mass of undigested material among his private papers and their significance was effectively lost to the world for almost 400 years. Today they are among the Royal Collection’s greatest treasures.

After a short film introduction, guests take a self-guided audio tour of several rooms, each demonstrating how da Vinci's fascination with the human body lead him to explore, in greater and greater detail, how humans are assembled and how everything works. As one of the few people allowed to dissect humans in those days, it was doubly lucky da Vinci was such a meticulous artist as well as a brilliant thinker. His findings were so revolutionary that some could not be conclusively proven until the development of MRIs in the 1980s. Arguably his greatest investigations focus on the workings of the heart - and the artist came tantalisingly close to discovering the science behind the circulation of blood, a century before it was officially achieved. According to Royal Collection curator Martin Clayton, da Vinci became fascinated with a swelling he discovered at the root of the aorta, just beneath the aortic valve. “In order to investigate this he injected melted wax into the heart of an ox in order to make a cast from inside the cavity. He then made a glass model from the cast which he pumped with water containing a suspension of grass seeds so that he could witness the 'turbulence' that took place...

From his research he deduced that this swelling was responsible for the closure of the aortic value after each beat of the heart - a theory which was not suggested again until 1912 and even then not conclusively confirmed until less than 30 years ago.”

Other studies concentrate on muscle form and the body's reproductive organs, particularly the formation of embryos, with astonishingly detailed drawings of babies still inside their mother's bodies....based, interestingly enough, on an ox's womb, which he used during war time when he had was forced to flee the city and, as a result, use animals instead of human subjects for dissection.

One study illustrating every bone in the human body is accompanied by 240 individual drawings of astounding clarity and more than 13,000 words of notes - all in his famed 'mirror writing'.

Professor Peter Abrahams, Professor of Clinical Anatomy at Warwick Medical School, added: 'For me as an anatomist, what Leonardo did was bring all his disciplines of architecture, geometry, engineering and combine it with an art expression that was quite unique. He put all these things together to try and explain not only how things looked but how things worked, and in that he was certainly unique. If you were to take ten specialists in the fields of which he worked, geometry, anatomy, physiology, engineering and architecture, I doubt if ten professors in those fields would have the knowledge base and talents that Leonardo had.

According to the Daily Mail: Da Vinci, who died in 1519, bequeathed all his notebooks and drawings to his young assistant, Francesco Melzi, who, over the next 50 years, tried to make sense of his master's daunting legacy. His son sold on many of the papers to the sculptor Pompeo Leoni who mounted the anatomical drawings into a large album which eventually made its way to England and is believed to have been bought by King Charles II. It has been in the Royal Collection, which is held in trust by The Queen for the nation, since at least 1690. The collection boasts the largest compendium of Leonardo drawings in the world, some 600 in all, of which 268 are anatomical sketches. Only one other of his anatomical drawings exists elsewhere today. Of these, 87 are currently on display at The Queen's Gallery in Buckingham Palace - many of which have never been publicly seen since they were drawn by the genius himself.

First to replicate the articulation and curvature of the spine

“This is not an easy exhibition; the intellectual pitch is demanding, but the reward for the visitor who stretches his mind and eye to keep pace with Leonardo is quite wonderful.” (London Evening Standard) It explores this sector of Leonardo’s interests, places it in context and leaves us with the indelible impression of philosophical genius. This is an exhibition for surgeons and historians of medicine as much as it is for connoisseurs and historians of art. I stood in awe of these drawings and manuscripts, overwhelmed by a broad intelligence of which I have always been aware but until now have more or less under appreciated. How can any single one of us NOT pale in comparison?

Also, these online images do his drawings very little justice...I highly recommend going to view them in person...or check out the official website: http://www.royalcollection.org.uk/exhibitions/leonardo-da-vinci-anatomist/the-drawings

First to accurately count and draw the different teeth in an adult human

The London Coffee Festival 2012

2012-04-29T12:14:00.000-07:00

Goody Bag PILE :-O

I have a confession to make. I’m an addict. Yes, I’m admitting to it. Coffee has a hold on me like nothing else does. Pretty much, anyway. So what's a coffee addict to do when the London Coffee Festival tosses ads and invites my way every day via email for months in advance? Give in to temptation, of course!

It was only in its second year but it was clearly a ginormous hit. The lofty Shoreditch showroom was completely packed...packed like the ground espresso beans in each filter basket of every portafilter (sorry, I couldn't resist). 5 zones, named after areas of London (Soho and Shoreditch, for example) connected to create a winding pathway of sensory stimulation: aka coffee heaven...or at least a space to sample the best the independent London coffee scene has to offer. Unlimited, real artisan coffee. From dozens of different brewers.

Zone 1, Hyde Park: After waiting in a long line – or should I say QUEING – in the pouring rain and wind and cold, we ascended the concrete steps and emerged in this, the largest room, with high ceilings and white walls and live music wafting toward us from its center. The location and the band and the attendees each decked in blacks and browns and sweaters and earth-tones and leather and skinny jeans all combined to scream 'Indie', which was totally fine by me. In this room you could approach any stand and ask for a latte, a flat white, a cappu, or a tiny espresso shot and you could try 100 drinks for free, if you wanted, while still enjoying the slow-made perfection of each creation. Nothing was rushed and each drink, as coffee ought to be, was made with tender love. In the back of this zone was the Tea Garden, for all those Brits who can't survive without their nice cuppa. Leafy experts and master herbalists offered new product samplings and the latest innovations in tea. The adjacent Chocolate Factory was, well, such a delightful array of chocolate based awesomeness that we had to pass through several times. It's impossible to have too much chocolate.

Zone 2, Soho: Naturally, the room for the avant gard, edgier coffee experiences. Here you could watch the coffee being roasted, watch live barrista demos, and soak up those excellent aromas.

Zone 3, The Showroom: New for 2012, this room housed the barrista championships and showcased the latest equipment and newest innovations, for in your home or in a coffee house. On the UKBC stage they “celebrate[d] the art of coffee making in what is considered the hardest of the SCAE competitions, testing coffee knowledge, presentation, preparation and all round barista ability. The winner of this year’s competition will represent the UK at the World Barista Championships in Vienna, Austria on 12th-15th June.”

Zone 4, The Lab: The smallest of the rooms was used for live demonstrations and talks, workshops and story-telling. The Brew Bar, facing opposite, demonstrated purest brewing techniques including stovetop, aeropress, and drip methods.

Zone 5, Shoreditch: The always-necessary food room where you could sample and buy a range of gourmet products.

Oddly enough, I wasn't tweaking out on caffeine after 3 hours of sampling. I think I was actually so tired that the typical jolt I ought to have gotten barely brought me back to normal operating levels.....to some homeostatic balance in an unbalanced world, I suppose.

The 158th Oxford v Cambridge Boat Race

2012-04-27T06:12:00.000-07:00

In its 158 years of running, the Oxford versus Cambridge Boat Race has never seen such excitement and drama. Unfortunately, I don't think many of the spectators saw the events that unfolded that dreary, drizzly Saturday morning. It isn't easy chasing those racers upstream, even on land, by bus...which we tried to do, to catch the end of the race after having watched the beginning.

After the initial preamble of selecting starting stations (apparently) the race was off. Reviewers claimed Oxford had the better chance of winning that day based on their record that season and indeed it was Oxford that looked the best at a cool 44 strokes a minute (they say), slightly over-rating Cambridge and taking an early ¼ length lead.

By the first mile the boats were still largely neck-and-neck, no advantage to either. “And this was how the race proceeded with neither crew giving any quarter, Oxford holding on around the outside of the Surrey bend but unable to move away from the light blues as they raced under Hammersmith Bridge and on towards Chiswick. With the wind now behind them and both crews showing great heart and determination it was shaping up to be a truly fantastic race.” Film crews and umpires and the like followed closely in the wake of the rowers.

But this entire preamble accounted for nothing.

The Oxford coxswain shot her hand in the air, followed immediately by a red flag from the Umpire to stop the race. “Amid some confusion on the river a swimmer who would have been mown down by the flotilla of following boats if the race had continued, was spotted between the two crews.” The jerk in the river, Trenton Oldfield, 35, caused the annual contest on the River Thames to be stopped for around half an hour after he was spotted in the vessels' path as crews battled towards the finish. He is a self-titled anti-elitist who's aim was to protest the race, apparently, in the manner of “civil disobedience”. He narrowly avoided the blade of an Oxford oar, was pulled from the river, was taken away on a police launch and arrested.

Oldfield, who lives in a run-down block of flats in Myrdle Street, east London, later defended his anti-elitist stance online, claiming he had always "fought from within". He added: "Still waiting for someone to show me when elitism (seeing oneself above another) hasn't lead to oppression and tyranny?" His bail condition bans him from using or being within 100 metres of roads which form part of the Olympic torch route.

The race was restarted from Hammersmith Bridge, around the 2-mile point. Then just 35 seconds into the restarted race Oxford on the outside of the bend were continuously warned to move away from Cambridge. “This they failed to do and a clash was inevitable. A clash in which the Dark Blues came out the worst and which cost them the race as Hanno Weinhausen six in the Oxford crew emerged from it with no spoon on the end of his blade.” Effectively the Race was over and Cambridge moved steadily away from the 7 man Oxford crew over the next few minutes to win by 4 and a quarter lengths.

Despite the Oxford crew’s appeal at the end of the Race Umpire Garrett declared Cambridge the winner. “But the drama wasn’t quite over Alex Woods Oxford’s bow man had collapsed after crossing the finish line and was lying unconscious in the boat, having given everything to prevent his team’s loss. Cambridge President David Nelson seemed bemused and described the Race in his laconic fashion as “pretty dramatic” while expressing his concern for his Dark Blue rival.”

Oxford's bow, Dr. Alex Woods, collapsed in the boat...

After the Race there was no presentation ceremony as both sides showed their concern for Woods who was taken to Charing Cross hospital immediately afterwards, where he was recovering well a short time later. This was a truly dramatic afternoon of sport, one in which the Umpire was adjudged to have made all the correct decisions in an unprecedented race, and in which many people probably didn’t notice that Ed Bosson had become the youngest ever winning Cambridge cox. Poor guys.

Luckily for us (?) with the halt in the middle, we saw both the beginning, as I said, and the finish of the race...and that was that.

Cambridge, Again, Finally!

2012-04-12T09:09:00.000-07:00

King's, through the Chapel window

As the title suggests, I FINALLY was able to revisit Cambridge! It's been nearly three years since June of 2009 when I landed in London, geared up and ready to undertake a full summer of studying abroad at THE university I'd dreamed of - and then planned on - attending as a student since, well, forever! As cliché as it sounds, that summer was life-changing. Yes, yes, most people return from a studying or working abroad experience saying the exact same thing, that it was the best time of their life and that it changed them forever, for the better. For me, it was all of that, times ten to the billionth power. Yes, exactly that number. I fell so deeply in love with England that I knew I had to go back; I had to live there, like, for good. For forever and ever and ever. England was the one place I finally felt truly happy and comfortable and at home. And now here I am again. I made it happen. I’m back. For good.

To revisit the place it all began was a heartwarming experience. *releases a sigh of fondness for nostalgia's sake* I'd been looking for the right opportunity to get away from London to travel back up to Cambridge since my re-arrival in the UK last September, but it wasn't until now that I was actually invited back. While I would have gone on my own I was much more interested in going with someone, ideally someone who would love and appreciate it as much as I do. A fellow Cambridge-ite, a current master's student I’m quite close friends with, suggested I come up for the weekend. I took the bait, the offer, and booked a room at Trinity College and a round trip train ticket from King's Cross, and set out bright and early one Saturday morning on my North-bound journey.

Our first Formal at King's, June 2009

Same girls, our Last Formal at King's, August 2009

By 7:45 that day I was on my way. The 45 minute jaunt was nothing and breezed by in a matter of minutes, seemingly, because all of a sudden the train was cruising gently past the Cambridge University Press and docking at the station. My first taxi ride in months was through those old, familiar, homey streets of cozy, peaceful Cambridge and down the Backs, where I met up with my buddy who was staying adjacent to me at Clare College (which is right next door to King's College, the one and only, for those of you familiar with the territory and the school).

Trinity College, where I stayed

It felt like I'd never left. Though that's likely due to the fact that the University hasn't substantially changed in centuries. But still. Just as I remembered. Oh, nostalgia.

My room's view, towards King's College in the background.

My room in Trinity. I love the high ceilings. Yes, I notice these things.

The view out my window toward Clare College.

Trinity Dining Hall

The first thing I begged to do, after dumping my luggage, was return to Benet's, my favorite cafe/coffee stop overlooking the King's gateway. Not only does Benet's offer the most magnificent view in the city, in my opinion, but it definitely serves some of the best coffee, as well. I know; I've looked. Awake and caffeinated, we then set off down Trumpington Street toward the Fitzwilliam Museum and, of course, my old townhouse facing it. Unfortunately, I was an idiot and had my photo taken in front of the wrong door. In my defense, they all look exactly the same. Well, minus the numbers meant to differentiate each house. But, c'mon, gimme a break! It's been 3 years! Interestingly, that photo managed to get deleted off my computer. I swear. Otherwise I'd show you :)

So we went to the Fitwilliam Museum next because, as y'all know, I can't get enough art in a day. We spent a lot of time wandering the old, familiar cobbled streets, walking through the campuses and the cathedrals, taking photos (all the ones in this post are mine), and, for me, reminiscing about “old times” like any old fart would.

King's College Chapel

Having already lived in Cambridge once, revisiting for just two days was enough. I just wanted enough time to say 'hey' to everything that made me fall in love with England in the first place.

CU Botanical Gardens

Cyberdog

2012-03-25T11:06:00.001-07:00

I know it sounds incredibly cliché, being spring and all...that super-magical time of year for change and rejuvenation...but I have to admit I have been thrust in completely new and somewhat unexpected directions. As you all know, I have planned all along on living in London after I graduate and part of the preparation for that permanent transition involves finding a place to live. So who better to live with than my best friend, I ask you? No one, that's who.

He invited me into his housing arrangement as the fourth person. This group grew from four to five soon after I joined in. Most of you (or any of you who know me well, at least) would question why I, the most independent of loners (most of the time), would ever agree to live with four other people. Well, I decided, or was convinced through persuasive and convincing conversation, that this was a sensible idea, first of all...meaning, living with more people, splitting rent, etc. Plus, I consider myself an adult possessing at least the vaguest modicum of maturity, able to handle a townhouse type of arrangement. After all, I lived in a townhouse at Cambridge, I've lived on dorm halls for years, and I'd still have my own bedroom in the end, of course, in this new flat. So I agreed to participate whole-heartedly in the 5-room thing.

The search for a 5 began. And quickly failed. Turns out it's cheaper to live with fewer people and there are more options for 1 or 2 bed places that are cleaner, nicer, and more centrally located. That and it's difficult to get 5 people to agree on anything or make decisions for the best of the group. So when I offered to back out, the group of 5 split. Thankfully, I’m still with my best friend in terms of rooming arrangements. And actually, over the course of time that we'd been looking for housing this best friend transitioned into the 'boyfriend' spot. Yes, Emily has her first official boyfriend in three years. This is big news, people.

In addition to a new BF (all smiles and rainbows and sparkles and happiness!!!) I also got a new tattoo. It's pretty killer, too. See? Look: (BAM! fast transition from pretty springtime pictures to hard core stuff, from here on out!)

"be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life"

And that's basically permanent, you know. Yeah, I love it though. Took three hours of planning and prep, if you can believe it because it had to be hand written and fitted to me, of course. My artist was awesome, though, and way more friendly and talkative than the girl who did my first one when I was at Cambridge. I'd planned on having my BF go with me and hold my hand through the pain (though at that time he wasn't my boyfriend, yet) but the rooms were so small you couldn't fit more than two people in there so the poor guy had to go wander around Camden alone all afternoon. I felt really bad but there was nothing I could do about it, sadly enough.

Dave...that's my artist :)

So there I was, at Evil From the Needle, with the artist – Dave was his name – and we talked all about the US and how he wanted to live in the wilds of Alaska or Canada or something while he worked and drew and refitted the art on my side. So then, like I said, three hours later, he inked me up. That's the worst part of it, as you can imagine, but we agreed on some rock to blast from his ipod to speakers distract me while that little needle tore me up and thankfully once he got started he was really fast and it didn't take more than 15 minutes of me gripping the table.

One more new-ish thing. I finally got my hands on an iPhone...by signing up to a 2 year T-mobile contract the device was free. So basically I’m staying here no matter what. I mean, I have a frickin' contract, don't I?! No, actually I'll have a job and do it the legal way....don't hassle me!

I TOLD you this spring has been totally cliché. But I’m not complaining...obviously. I'm having a frickin' blast.

My instagram from Camden High St today

The lock

Another change. The time. Moved the clocks forward last night. Now we have lots and lots of light! That means I can go out running later and spend more time outside, in general. Today I took advantage of the sun and the warmer temps to head up to the markets in Camden again. Second time since I got the new tat. (The first time was a few weeks ago when the boyfriend's best friend from home came to visit for the weekend and we wandered up there on foot, for cryin' out loud. That was the same night I learned to play poker!). Anyway, today Camden was packed to bursting. But I got up there early so I didn't bother trying to fight the crowds and just moved at the same sluggish pace of the tourists while browsing the stalls, shops, and market avenues. All the winter items were on sale for dirt cheap. Score. London can be the most expensive place ever, but if you're savvy you can rock it for next to nothing. I got black leather boots, a black hoodie, a hand-designed sleeveless tank, and a Rubiks cube all for £30. Beat that!

One place in the market that everyone ought to check out during the day is Cyberdog. It's like neon insanity on acid. Goth + Spaceman. If you're into intergalactic, futuristic dance parties, this is the one and only store for you. In London anyway.....because I hear Japan is pretty kinky these days, after all..... It's guarded by two giant robots at the entrance and one skinny dude, who's alive, to keep the under 18's out (sex shop in the basement). Once you're allowed to pass you descend into a surreal underground environment, where people are literally dancing on the ceiling and there's flashing colored lights and weird electric music mixed by a live DJ on the second floor down and store clerks who look like they've warped here from some futuristic dimension. Unfortunately they beat you down if you take any photos so I didn't get any. I had to steal some from the internet so you could get the gist, though.

See? Dancers up on platforms above the shoppers!

Employees

If you watch the following video this weird Spanish chick will take you on a tour through the store and she shows off some of the crazy stuff you can buy, plus you get a sneak peek inside the store, which isn't allowed if you're filming on your own, like I said. This was was best vid I could find, though. Sorry it's in Spanish. But to be fair, it's not what she's saying that's important, it's what's going on behind her:

Me in 3D

2012-03-09T09:58:00.002-08:00

I have about 7 of these lined up in my mind, just waiting to be written. I could make an analogy to a clogged drain, so many ideas and bits and bobs are floating around in the mess of the container that is me that nothing gets out “on paper” unless it's forced to move because too many other things are trying to take up space, as well. But I won't make that analogy because clogged drains are gross and I have two of them right now, this very minute, in my bathroom, that have plagued me since I moved in!

Switching topics, and speaking of moving in, I’m on the search for housing, someplace I can live once the school kicks me off campus. To be fair to them, though, I won't be a student at this school any more so technically they are allowed to do that. My two options, so far, are a 5 bedroom house share OR a two bedroom/studio flat share. The search is on! In fact, I should be able to give a final report on where I'll be living in the very near future because a decision needs to be made before everything is unavailable due to the expected influx of people this summer for the Olympics. All the prices will be jacked sky high and space available will be limited to abandoned parking garages.

And although my time this term, as I've said, has been spent working diligently on school-related things, including a dissertation that began to unravel at the seams this week when we lost access to our sample population of runners, I've been out and about in the evenings and on weekends, occasionally. Being locked away in my room is endlessly boring so whenever I have the chance to escape and take in bits of London, I do.

Interestingly enough, my most recent dive into the city was based on something, an ad I suppose, that I read asking for participants for a different study. Always one to appreciate science and help out a fellow researcher in need of subjects, I thought, 'why not?'. Besides, the study (as all studies are required to be) was highly original: the team from Great Ormond Street Hospital (yes, that children's hospital from Peter Pan IS real) were doing 3D imaging of human heads with the aim of creating the largest database of face shapes in the world. The information will be used by medical teams and researchers to treat patients who have to have facial surgery.

Science Museum

The study, called Me in 3D, was done in conjunction with the Science Museum so visitors can volunteer to have their photograph taken with a 3D camera and explore what their faces look like in another dimension. I was all for that! So I went with a friend and made this recording of what you get to play around with on the computer after your picture is taken:

Dr Chris Abela, Senior Craniofacial Fellow, Great Ormond Street Hospital said: “We know a lot about the bones in our faces but little is known about what makes our face the shape it is and about the skin and muscles that make up our face. By collecting as many 3D face photographs as we can we will have a greater understanding of our complex faces, and have greater knowledge to plan and perform the best facial surgery in the future. This is a really exciting event and we want as many children, young people and adults to come and see themselves in 3D.”

the 3D camera

Priya Umachandran, Contemporary Science Developer at the Science Museum said: “The Science Museum thrives on engaging visitors in the latest contemporary science issues and our Live Science programme lets visitors meet the experts and involves the public directly in cutting-edge research which has an impact upon all of us.”

Afterward, we explored the Science Museum exhibits, themselves because, oddly enough, I hadn't been to this free museum yet. We remained, mostly, on the same floor as the 3D imaging exhibit because it was the floor that delved into our favorite subject: ourselves! According to the site: “Who am I? invites you to explore the science of who you are through intriguing objects, provocative artworks and hands-on exhibits. Discover what your voice sounds like as a member of the opposite sex, morph your face to see what you’ll look like as you age, or collect DNA to catch a criminal in our brand-new interactive exhibits. Investigate some of the characteristics that make humans such a successful species, such as personality, intelligence and language.”

Stephen Wiltshire at work on a panorama

An analysis of people with autism, asperger's, and savantism was, predictably, my favorite display. I think I've always had a special affinity for that “group” of people since I've been exposed to them since I was young. As many of you know, my mom is a special education teacher for kids with “disabilities” like these....though in some cases what is commonly considered a “disability” to me seems a gift! The kids I've known through my mom's job are exceptional in so many ways, and frankly I always prefer to be around people who aren't like everyone else, anyway. Take Stephen Wiltshire, for example. Not a student of my mom's, mind you, yet similar to her insofar as he is an artist who draws and paints, but he specializes in detailed cityscapes. His particular talent is for drawing lifelike, accurate representations of cities from memory, sometimes after seeing them only briefly.

Rome

Rome, detail

It goes without saying that there's more in the museum than I can describe, but I'll tell you about two last bits that really caught my attention, that were quite memorable, if not merely small stations within one room of one floor in the whole building. On the 3^rd floor in the back is the Launchpad, “packed with over 50 interactive exhibits, plus electrifying shows and lively demos, all from the wonderful world of physics. Launchpad is all about asking questions and making sense of the way things work.” The first bit I liked was the Thermal Imaging Camera which picks up heat instead of light so you can see what parts of your body are hottest, your head, most often (though my shins seemed to be in competition) and coldest....which is why this was so memorable because according to this image there is no heat in my hands!!! SEE, PEOPLE!? I’m not lying when I say my hands freeze from September to May, why I can't survive in the cold! There is no blood circulating in my body except when I’m running, it seems. If it wasn't because I am just plain addicted to it, I'd say this is the reason I run twice a day, to get the blood pumping and to heat my body back up to a homeostatic 98.6.

Last one. This part was so surprising I couldn't believe it at first. It was like a magic trick! I couldn't find a photo so I'll do my best to describe this: there is a small metal bar sticking out horizontally to one side, out of a box. This bar is basically free standing. You slip a plastic drinking straw (new ones are provided for everyone) over one end of this little bar so it rests in the middle. Then you bite down on it. You're thinking, 'What? That's disgusting!', until I tell you that you literally start to hear music playing in your ears. No, literally in your ears. The harder you bite, the louder it gets! Want to know why? It's because metal and bone matter are excellent sound conductors, more so than the surrounding air and tissues in the head, so if music is being transmitted through the bar and you bite that bar the sound is carried around through your skull and your eardrums pick up on it. It literally sounds like you're wearing headphones.

Launchpad room