Episode 15: My Legs Are Broken

Ugh, I never want to see another stair in my life. And I do not want to walk any further than my kitchen for the rest of the night (maybe longer). I know my legs are going to be ripped when I get back to the States and that all this walking really is healthy, but my legs burn every time I walk home at the end of the day.

This morning started off a little rough. Cramps made an appearance and threw off my whole schedule of getting ready, so that I rushed to make my lunch and leave so I could catch the bus into Waterloo where Creative Writing was meeting today. Plus the bread I ate for breakfast tasted a little like garlic. Odd. Just to be safe, in case the heat of the kitchen was causing the food odors to cross-contaminate, I put the garlic in another cupboard, all by its little lonesome. Can't be too safe about garlic.

Then, when I was almost on time getting out the door (I had locked my door and left the building, walking towards the bus stop) I put my hand in my purse and realized I'd forgotten my camera. Other things can be left, but the camera is the staple of the student and tourist. I ran back in to get it. To add insult to injury, today was a very cool day. And I was wearing shorts. Granted, they came down to my knees (my standard bottoms for wandering around Surbiton/Kingston/London when it's going to be over about 70 so that I don't get too hot from walking) but it was still a little chilly.

Finally I made it to Waterloo, without any other major issues. I met up with the rest of my class (who left the dorm after me but somehow made it there before me. I tell ya, those trains are screwy). We did have to wait for Zack since he'd had some mishaps of his own and gotten on the train that stops at every single stop. I hate that train.

After we'd all congregated, Anna took us to a bus stop and we got on a bus that took us into London and close-ish to Covent Garden. I got to ride on a double-decker bus over London Bridge. Yes, I am kind of giddy with touristy delight. Although we had to walk a bit to get to Covent Garden.

Which I will have to come back to on my own since we didn't really spend time there. The only place we looked at while there was this puppetry and toy shop that you had to climb a tiny staircase to get to. Tiny as in narrow by the way. It was actually kind of steep and tall. I liked the toy shop though. It was a throwback to a simpler time when imagination actually counted with you toys and they didn't tell you what to do with them. Things like jacks and pop-up theatres and play ice-cream. There were little stuffed dolls of different characters (Peter Pan, Merlin, The Queen) and Jacob's ladders (which are kind of fascination even though they only do one thing) and shadow puppets. Yeah, that's right. Shadow Puppets. Awesome.

After everyone climbed back down from the tiny shop (seriously, we as a class (the ten of us) pretty much took up the entire store) Anna took us across the street to St. Paul's Church. This church is special because it's where the funerals for a lot of actors in London have been held and there are many plaques on the walls, memorializing these people. Anna gave us a writing prompt to go in and create a character, but use the names on the walls. It was kind of fun.

And the church is rather lovely. Not as ornate or showy as some churches (kind of ironic when you consider it's a church for a lot of showy people) but still very nice. And it has two guardians, a brother and sister pair of cats, one of whom likes the cushions in the pews. They just wander where they please in the church. It's kind of neat. Also, they are soft.

After more of a trek, we ended up at the Poetry Cafe for lunch. The cafe is not very big either. There were just enough tables for our class and about six other people. Though they did have some room downstairs (for open mic nights I guess) although it had no seating. Since lunch wasn't being served for another half hour or so, we discussed the poems we did last week.

Yeah, I'm not really into poetry. I like Shel Silverstein and I understand that poetry can be a very beautiful, expressive form of writing, but I don't really understand how it works myself. And she keeps telling us to write poems. Well, I guess we write almost equal amounts of each, but yeah, I'm not going to ever make poetry my main focus (Aaaaaand now we see fate screw with me for that statement, making it so poetry is tightly woven into my writing life. Touche Moirae, touche).

Lunch was as it ever is for me, pretty tasty, but also a little saddened that I cannot eat the food of whatever restaurant we end up at for lunch. Although, the selection here wasn't great and I am saving money by not having to buy lunch. Money that can be spent on clothes in London :D Okay, okay, you got me. I really mean books at Powell's when I get home (although I may do a little shopping here. Even though I'm not really a shopping kind of person).

When lunch ended we headed through the most complicated string of street you will ever find to The Photography Gallery. No, I'm serious. We were all lost by the time we got there. And I can usually remember how I got somewhere at least vaguely if not fairly well. And we walked for like a half hour to get there. Actually, it was probably closer to forty-five minutes. Sadly, I'm not even exaggerating here.

And the gallery wasn't really very inspiring. At least to me, although since a lot of us ended up in the cafe, not writing, I'm guessing that may have been the case with almost everyone. Plus there was only one person's photos and the gallery was small, and except for the cafe, there was nowhere to sit and write. I liked writing in The National Portrait Gallery much better. I did get down a little prose (hopefully!) poem about writer's block. I called it "The Museless Writer". I kind of like it.

Anna came up to the cafe where we were writing (well, I was writing (sort of). Most of us were just chatting) and said we could leave if we wanted to. She'd told us that we were near Oxford Circus and could catch a tube there back to Waterloo. Okay, the British are terrible at giving specific directions. She had just kind of waved and said, "Take a right and then a left and you can't miss it."

Um, yes. Yes you totally can. Lyanna, Rachel, Abby and I were all walking together and we couldn't find the place. So we decided to catch a bus that said it went to Hyde Park, because at least then we figured we'd be some place. Then the bus said Oxford Circus and I could see a tube stop out my window so we hit the button for the next stop and we waited. And waited. And waited for it to stop. It finally did like 3 blocks away from the Underground station. It was like we went forward and back to only go forward along the same stretch of road (a little further back from where we'd been, but still).

Finally, we made it and I checked the tube map, finding that we could take Victoria to Green Park, change to Jubilee and then take that back to Waterloo (pay attention people, you may one day need this on The Amazing Race). I went to explain this to the girls with me, but they were like "hey, you know where we're going and we'll just follow you." Oh yeah, I rock the system.

We got to the bottom of the escalators (as an aside, I love the person who created the escalator. That guy is my hero. Guy Who Invented The Stairs, I'd watch your back) and went to find our platform. When consulting the boards, we found that the Bakerloo line (yes, that is totally its name. I giggle too) would take us directly to Waterloo. My way would have gotten us there too, but this was was much faster and less complicated. I vote easy and simple, who's with me?

Got back to Waterloo, hopped on the fast train to Surbiton and finally got back about a quarter to four. I walked over to Waitrose to see if I could find those pineberries (white berries with red seeds that look like reverse strawberries and taste like pineapple). I couldn't so I just shrugged and was like, I have to go to Sainsbury's anyway. So I caught the K2, which I thought would at least go past Sainsbury's.

No. It went the complete opposite direction from where I needed to go. So I got off at the next stop and was like "Fine. I'll just walk to Sainsbury's. Jeez." So I did. I walked all the way there and picked up more bread and some gluten free breakfast bars, chocolate and banana granola bars, and mini chocolate chip muffins (those three things are gluten free) as well as some more chocolate covered raisins. Because UK chocolate cover raisins equal freakin' awesome (as opposed to the just regular awesome of US chocolate covered raisins). I also got some mini-corns which I love in the States, but which kind of taste like dirt here. Even after washing. Hmmmm.

I was standing in line when I saw the bus I wanted stop and then leave the bus stop. So I was like, "Fine! Screw it, I'll just walk home then." Which I did. A little grudgingly. Although singing while I walk makes the trip a little more enjoyable. Tomorrow, is going to be suckily long and I am going to sulk about it a little.

I know UK classes are a little more intense than ours, but you should either start in the morning and eat up my afternoon, leaving the evening free, or start in the afternoon (like 1 or 2) and eat into my evening. But tomorrow, my theatre class is starting at 11:30 and going all the way to like midnight. Seriously. I have class in the class room from 11:30 until 5 and then the play starts at 7:30. In London so there's not even really time to go back to the dorm beforehand. Which means I have to pack both lunch and dinner. The only saving grace is that it's a Friday.

Oh, and then my creative writing class is stealing part of my weekend. Which wouldn't be such a problem if it was one of the long weekends, but it's not. It's only two days. And she assigned us all the work for the preliminary portfolio. Due Tuesday. I have to have five pieces (which I think I have but need to revise a couple to show progress) a reader's diary (where I have 19 poems with one sentence, at least, written about them and another poem with 500 words written about it. Curse you poetry you won't be content 'til you've stolen my soul) and an author's note about my writing process (another 500 words).

I wanted to do stuff this weekend. Touristy things like Windsor Castle (which I'll do anyway) and Westeminster Abbey and maybe the Eye. I only have this weekend and next weekend in which to do this stuff! This is the end of week two! I'm halfway through the program! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! (And her head exploded. Please standby while reboot solves this). Sorry, I'm back. Just needed to vent a little.

Today's lesson: If there is one thing you hate to do, the universe will conspire against you to make it happen. Over and over again. Ciao