Tube vs Metro

So for better or worse I've traded my London life in for life in LA... There are definitely things I miss about London, but there are things I love about being back in LA... Life gets complicated when you make each place you live, your home.

London for one, is infinitely more accessible without a car than LA is. London is compact, dense and when it's not raining cats and dogs it is a city that is truly a pleasure walk in. LA is a city where car is king, the urban (and suburban) sprawl seems never ending. However, that is changing, hence the title of this post - Tube vs Metro.

I have to say, the Tube is amazing! It goes virtually everywhere. It runs frequently enough that I never had to wait long for a train to arrive. The Metro is, well, not amazing but it is expanding and I am very happy about that!

The biggest problem with the Tube is that it is (like most things in London) very expensive, which meant that if the trip was walkable...I did so. Another strike against the Tube was its lack of late night service. I'm a night owl and an all night service would have been awesome. The Metro wins this round because it's only a buck fifty to ride and provided you don't change lines, that buck fifty will get you a very long way. Also the Metro runs 'til 2am on the weekends, which (if I'm able to ignore the weirdos) makes me very happy!

The funniest difference between the two is underground etiquette. Everyone in London knows that you stand on the right and walk up the left...no one one has a clue here in LA and the escalators are used willy nilly...but if the Metro keeps expanding, maybe that will change!

Maybe I should start an underground escalator etiquette class...

That's Some Crazy Mojo!

So, I am not one of those girls who gets hit on in bars. I think I give out a "I am content, don't bother me" vibe...this maybe a totally erroneous view on my part, but whatever the reason (I repeat) I am not one of those girls who gets hit on.

So (please) indulge me for a moment while I share some of the events of my last few days in London that lead to the title and tale of this blog.

To kick things off!

On Wednesday, August 8th, Rose and I had tickets for the theatre (dahling!), to see The Mousetrap (which I've always wanted to see, being an Agatha Christie fan). As I don't often have occasion to dress up, Rose and I decided to get out the gladrags. As I was walking (sans heels, just flip-flops) to the theatre I pass a pub, where many a merry lad was enjoying a pint in the sunshine. Now as I approached said pub (The White Hart, I believe)one of these merry lads looked my direction. Being the polite person I am, I flashed a smile and continue walking. The lad in the trajectory of my path proceeded to go all wide-eyed and said, "You're lovely!" I (being the polite person I am) said "Thank you" and continued to walk past and on my merry way. However, as I continued to walk away, this lad continued to call after me, "You're lovely, you're absolutely lovely!!" He was so insistent that another elderly gentleman walking nearby, said "it seems you have an admirer."

Ok, so taken on it's own, this seems like no big deal. I was dressed up...he was probably a bit pissed...the weather was lovely...so all was right with his (and my) world and I became the receiver of this happy mood. However, the tale of my bizarrely active mojo doesn't end there!

The following Friday, August 10th, I had my leaving do on the Southbank. Lunch, followed by the Tate Modern, followed by drinks and finally dancing (all of which were lovely, by the way). So, the next instance of my overly active mojo did not happen that night, but rather at the arse crack of dawn the next morning. I had scheduled a pick-up for my one (very large) box to be shipped back to the States. I requested a pick-up before noon as I did not want to spend my glorious last Saturday, sitting in my empty room waiting for the pick-up man. At some point the previous evening, in my fuzzy state, I had received a text saying the pick up would be at 7:30am, ugh...I digress, or rather I'm setting the scene. So, sharply at 7:30am the pick-up man arrived. As I rushed around throwing last minute items in the box and taping it up, we joked about the insane amount of customs forms and paperwork required by the lovely US government. That done and dusted, I went and flopped back in bed, mentally ticking off one of my to-do boxes.

Now before I continue with the "crazy mojo" tale, let me provide some photographic evidence of what I looked like that morning, proving that I was most definitely looking a bit worse for wear...nutso hair, smeary leftover makeup, etc. (and yes, I took a picture,  right after the following events, specifically for this blog!!)

So, as I'm flopped on my naked bed (having just shipped the duvet) I got a text from a number not in my phonebook. Here's what it said -

     "Sorry Heidi! That's off topic :-) but I've 
      never met a kind and nice American like 
      you :-) I wish we can meet when it's not 
      about the job...sorry for disturbing"

So, at first I was thinking, "Huh? Who is this?" (and why do they not have a mastery of the English language?) Then, as I scrolled back up to the previous evening's messages, it dawned on me... Yep!! The number matched the pick-up confirmation message I had received the night before! My pick-up man was trying to pick me up!!!! Being the polite person I am, I had a laugh and then thanked him for the compliment and let him know I was following the box home in a couple days, to which he replied -

     "I should send myself there in another box. 
      Nice too meet you, real pleasure...
      have a good one"

Whaaaaaaaat?! I spent all of 10 minutes with this pick-up man, and as you can see above it was not my finest hour in the looks department. Hmmm...

If these two incidents had been it, I would not be sitting here writing this tale...

On Sunday, August 12th, Rose treated me, as a going away present, to the Hyde Park Olympics Closing Ceremony Celebration Concert (Blur, woohoo!) As we were waiting for Blur to go on stage, a man with his adorable, loquacious, pink tutu clad daughter on his shoulders (yes, daughter!)went past looking for his wife (yes, wife!)and got stuck in the tight crowd surrounding us. As he looked around for his wife, he proceeded to tell me, I was gorgeous, repeatedly! It all got a bit embarrassing after that...

So, as I said above, I am not one of those girls who gets hit on, but something was sure kicking off those last few days in London. My friends Rose and Paul said it was because I was happy and content...and you know what, I think they might have been right... I just hope the next time my mojo goes crazy, there'll be someone I fancy in close proximity! ;-)

The long farewell...

The agenda this summer is to bid adieu to London, England and Europe... Sandwiched between writing essays and generally being a stress monkey, I have managed to do and see some spectacular things...and it's not over yet, the fat lady is just doing her warm up!


I've created a "bucket list" to try and get through by the time I leave... I don't know if I'll make it, but I'm gonna give it my best shot! In the last week I've been clubbing in Vauxhall, spent two days in Liverpool and one in Wales, and tonight I went to Shakespeare at the Globe, one of my favorite past times in London. 


As I sit here, I can hear the bells of Big Ben ringing, it's 2am and I know I'm going to miss so many things about living in this fantastic city, but the time is right to move on and move forward...


Here's to a stolen summer, before the real world arrives with "a bang and a clatter!

Borough Market - Fab Fridays

Borough Market is pretty fabulous any time of year, but it's even better at Christmas when the scent of fresh pine trees, mulled wine and spiced cider hangs in the crisp air.

As a part of my studies I'm required to be in personal therapy. My therapist is pretty great and has a penchant for wearing tastefully loud clothes and jewelry. The added bonus of my Friday therapy is that my therapists office is right around the corner from Borough Markets. So, promptly at 11:55 (when our session is over) I get to go wander through the stalls and have lunch at the market! What a fabulous way to spend a Friday and start my weekend!

Freeeeedom! uh, I mean Liberty!

So, as I really should be writing my final paper of the term, and not blogging, this will be short and sweet (and mostly pictures)! Oscar Wilde said "Liberty is the chosen resort of the artistic shopper" I would have to agree! It has everything from Gucci clothes to ribbons, yarn and a fake stuffed reindeer head! And while the fabulous Christmas decor is really only there to increase the daily quid intake it does add to the festive mood while browsing each floor.

The London Hat Kanundrum

Just a short little blog (including some pictures of a few amazing hats!)

So the London hat kanundrum is simply this -

The weather in England is very hat wearer friendly. It's cold and rainy and generally has weather that does not suit un-hatted hair. You add to that numerous wonderful millinery shops throughout greater London and it should equal hats on heads on every street corner!

...but it doesn't!? I'd say that in sunny balmy LA (where by all reason, free flowing locks should rule) there are more (by a landslide) hats per capita (on the capite!)... and that, I say is the London hat kanundrum.

And now the studying beckons and I must answer to show that this head is not just a hatrack!

Venetian mask shopping in South Kensington

I've decided to focus on fun, rather than writing about the many horrible and overpriced bedsits I have view over the last week. So, on Saturday I sent a text to "Sam"* to see if we could meet up for a coffee or a drink. I needed a break from the home search and knew that Sam was always good for a cheery chat.

A couple of texts later and Bob's your uncle...we were on.

A quick change of plans later and I was drafted to help Sam pick out masks and capes for him and his friend to go to an Eyes Wide Shut type of party....hmmmm...

A (somewhat) quick drive through the rabbity roads of London (in Sam's rather posh car) and we were at the most insane costume shop I've ever been to! I so wish I had pictures to share but alas, no camera. The tiny aisles were so jammed with with costumes (all the way up to the ceiling in toppling towers) that it was like you were being attacked by wigs and hats and bags of tarty girl costumes. Are you picturing a big box type store? Well forget that. The aisles went upstairs, then down, around corners and on and on and on! It was totally amazing...and very English.

Lots of banter followed, with me attempting persuade Sam to go for the most wild of the Venetian masks and him (of course) going for the basic black.

...I'm a long way from "Burner" LA...

The afternoon rounded off nicely with a light dinner at a lovely little bistro in South Kensington.

*names changed to protect the not so innocent!