Episode 22: Sad Poems and Shopping (And Clubbing!)

Will I ever have a day that is not so long my feet want to fall off? Nah, probably not until August. Was a little extra tired today since I didn't go to bed until 1am last night. I stayed up after Comedy of Errors to update the blog. And I was just a little too wired to sleep. Which sucked when I had to get up at 8:30 this morning. Thank the lord it's the last day of school before a four day weekend.

After getting to Waterloo, we set out for Highgate cemetery, via the Tube. However, as soon as we set foot outside, it started to rain (I of course had checked the weather forecast in two different places and had on jeans with a sweat jacket and my umbrella in my backpack. Which I lent to Vanessa since all she had was a tank top and jeans with flip flops). So we ducked into this little restaurant/cafe place. Where we ate lunch even through mostly breakfast food was ordered.

A little later, after everyone had eaten we set out for the cemetery again, rain be damned. (It was during lunch that the idea of all going out to Oceana as a group came up. As did the fact that I'd never been to a club, which made Rachael and Kendra go "You have to go to a club! You're so coming with us!" As Kendra told me a little bit about the club experience (prepping me as it were) she asked if I had any clubbing clothes. And thus was the shopping trip born, with them planning on taking me shopping and doing my hair and make-up. Which I was totally fine with. When Anna mentioned going to Camden Town, Kendra was like "Shopping, Ashleigh. Be excited!" At which point I gave a little hoot of joy and raised my arms in the air. Which Abby found hysterically funny. I live to serve ;))

At the cemetery (which was a very long hike from any sort of public transportation. Although we did go through a park. Oooo, pretty park), we went as a class to Karl Marx's grave and then split up for about an hour of writing. I saw Douglas Adams' (the writer of Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy) grave which was simply, but had a shrine of pens stuck in the ground before it. I added one of the pencils from my bag. I also decided that cemeteries are nice places to write if it's sunny out. It's like a park with bits of inspiration in it.

I wandered for a bit before settling down on a bench (I also got my portfolio back from Anna. Sitting at a high B right now!) to write, as was the purpose of the trip. But my writing made me very sad, so I wrote one real complete poem and then spent twenty minutes sitting by Karl Marx's grave and just thinking (not about his teachings. About my own life. Yes, I'm a little shallow and self-centered sometimes. But at least I acknowledge this.) The poem is below (get the tissue while you still can):

Happy Birthday

Baby born, baby mine,
but lost before life's
first cry.
This little body,
cradled in my arms,
is just the shell
of who you were to be.
Gone before you knew me,
but still my heart breaks
for the love you've taken with you.
The tiny coffin twists
my soul-sore heart,
as I send my love to the grave
with your first toy.
Happy Birthday love.
Happy Birthday Joy.

Now you can see why I stopped writing after I wrote it. It was inspired by this gravestone that stuck with me of a figure curled over, with a little head sticking out. The stone had only one date: 3 January 1997. My guess is the baby was stillborn. Add that to a certain event in The Velvet Promise by Jude Deveraux and this is what my mind came up with. Sad.

Moving on to something a little less depressing. After our time in the cemetery (during which it actually didn't rain surprisingly) Anna took us on the Tube and we headed for Camden Market (after the loooooooong walk back from Highgate Cemetery). At which point, Vanessa, Rachael, Kendra, and I headed to the market and I bought way more than I would have normally.

And here, I was back to something with which I have little practice (aside from the short time in Mexico years ago): haggling. Now, I am not the greatest of hagglers, but apparently I have a sweet innocent face and when I say I don't have the amount they want for something, the people in the stalls believe me. I did pay full asking price for my first dress (15 pounds, about $20) but the other two I got for 3 pounds and 5 pounds off.

Now, I have never really owned cute dresses I can wear out. I own a couple of dresses I enjoy wearing, but nothing like these. Here are some descriptions in order of the Mom Approval Scale (MAS for short). Dress one, the one highest scoring on the MAS, has a skirt that comes to just about my knees. This skirt is cream with a blue floral pattern on it. The skirt ends a little above my bellybutton and the bodice is a soft material, sleeveless, of a navy blue/royal blue.

The second dress on the MAS scale is one of the same sort of design as the first. However, the skirt is divided into three bands of color, yellow around the hem, then gray, then purple. The bodice is the same soft material and gray with no sleeves and a little pin that is sort of like a gray and black flower (I like it, whatever it is).

The last dress is more of a pencil skirt that's olive green with a round gold button on each side. The bodice is fitted and strapless and is ivory. It can be a little odd to walk in, but I like this one as much as the rest. This was the last one I bought and I tried it on because Kendra had drawn my eye to it and then it called to me.

Now, trying things on in the market, is a little different than in a normal store. In the market, you just try it on over your clothes and try to figure out whether you like it or not. I also seem to have some Goth in me since I kept being drawn towards the dresses with underskirting poking out from under the hem, ones with black lace on them in designs over red or purple or even black satin. Even though I'm not sure I would ever actually wear them.

I had fun trying stuff on as the other girls gave comments though. And it was decided at some point during this trip (or the trip back on the tube) that I was going out with them tonight. So we stopped at a little store in Waterloo Station called Accessorize and got me these little gold sandals to go with the olive dress, which I decided to wear tonight, along with a pair of gold dangly earrings with two circles on them and a small gold heart on a gold chain (which I love).

We all went back to Surbiton and I ate dinner and tried to upload some pictures. At 8:45, Kendra IM'ed me and said to start getting ready and head over to her flat in about 15 minutes for hair and make-up. Her flatmate Stephanie did my hair with a little poof and curled and held in place with bobby pins and hairspray. Kendra meanwhile, put a little powder (I'm not sure what it was other than it gave my skin a little color apparently), eyeshadow, eyeliner, a little mascara, lipstick and a touch of gloss on my face.

I'd take off my glasses and didn't put them back on when they told me to go look. But when I looked in the mirror, I was shocked. This girl couldn't be me. I'm never looked so elegant and grown up and beautiful. Not even when I got dressed up for prom. A grin broke out over my face, one I couldn't help and Steph and Kendra laughed good-heartedly at my reaction. Clearly, I was pleased. And I was still shocked when I put my glasses on and looked again. Actually, every time I caught sight of myself in a mirror during the night I felt a little shocked. But in a wonderful way.

I went back to my flat to grab my ID, since I'd need it to get into a club (even looking fully like my nineteen years) and then we walked down to the pub, The Coronation Hall. It was a rather nice place and rather helpful for cementing some ideas about Lou's Place in one of my planned novels. Yes, I am a writerly nerd and while going out to a pub, I think about how it can apply to a novel. But I rather like who I am.

I swear I blushed so much at the pub though. People who knew me from Kingston and even other students who I didn't personally know kept saying I looked beautiful. I was asked quite a few times if I wanted something to drink (alcoholic) but I just stuck with a Pepsi and no one tried to pressure me. In fact they kept wanting to know if I was having a good time (I swear, I was asked this at least fifty times tonight) and let me know that if I felt they were pressuring me I could tell them to back off.

I had a pretty nice time talking with Jim at the pub. He's with the abroad program and I think he was probably Scottish. Or Irish. But I think it was Scottish. Anyway, he made me laugh quite a bit and talked with me for a good while. Kendra, Steph, and Rachael were all keeping a look out for me though and I wasn't ever abandoned or alone. Plus Jim seemed like a nice guy.

Around midnight we headed out for a club called The Hippodrome (do not ask me why it's called that; I have no idea). We got the best bus driver ever who actually took us straight from the pub all the way to the Hippodrome, stopping as close as he could. Yay awesome bus drivers! They deserve a Real Men of Genius song.

At the door I got separated from my group for a few moments since a guy with the security people (not like he was being held by the security people, but like they were buds and he was keeping them company) did this weird mind trick to me where he asked what 3+3 was, 4+2 was, 5+1 was, 7-1 was, and then asked me to name a vegetable. At which point I said "7, no 8, no, wait. Banana, agh, that's not it either. Oh, wait, carrot, carrot." Yes, I am quite brilliant and articulate.

Caught back up with the group right inside the door. Apparently it was indie night at the club, which didn't bother me since I didn't really have anything to compare it to. And I suck at dancing anyway, made all the harder by a skirt that restricts my movements. But I had fun dancing a little and then watching the dancers as the floor got more crowded.

After a little while, a cute English boy named Antony (it might have actually been Anthony, but he didn't pronounce the H) sat down next to me and started talking with me. Okay, talking is not exactly what you can do in a club with the music pounding. We sort of had a shouted conversation very close to each others' ears. He's a student at the University in Bristol and he's studying French and Music. He seemed interested that I was an American and said he liked my accent.

Now, so that you (okay, mostly Mom) don't freak out about me talking with an English boy, alone, in a club, you should know that our group was rather large by this time and about every five minutes, someone would come by and check on me, making sure I didn't want to actually get away from Antony but couldn't. Stan in particular (according to Kendra, the straightest gay guy you will ever meet) dropped by quite a bit and told Antony that I was very special to the group and he'd better treat me right.

Antony was really good-natured about the way the group looked out for me and it made me feel a little safer. It was really nice to just talk with someone. I've never just met someone and started a conversation. Plus he introduced each of his friends as they came by. I was just going to dance with him (even though, as I mentioned before, I am a terrible dancer) when someone came and told me we were leaving. Which was okay because it was nearly 2 and I was ready to go. I did feel a little regret about having to say goodbye to Antony, but I gave him my Facebook so he can find me. (I also double-checked and there is no way he can stalk me using just my name and what I told him. I'm being careful).

I'm actually kind of glad that I don't take the time to look stunning all the time. Because as nice as it was, I can see how it might attract unsavory types. Beauty can be used to stun guys and I have never actually had a guy just come over and talk to me before. It was kind of fun and nice, but only because I liked Antony. In other circumstances, I could see it ending badly. So, while I loved feeling beautiful for a while, that Ashleigh is not to be used for every day life. Never had that feeling of guys finding me extremely pretty before. It was odd.

Took a bus back to Sainsbury's and then walked home from there with Stan, Steph, and a couple other people. When I got back to the dorm, I washed off my make-up and undid my hair. It's now 4am and I'll wash my hair when I get up in the morning. I also don't want to walk for a very long time (yes, I know I say this every night and every day I get up and do yet more walking). Overall, I really had fun tonight, although it's not how I would spend a lot of my nights.

Today's lesson: groups are good for safety and allow you freedom without endangerment. Also, I can be outwardly stunning as well as inwardly beautiful. Ciao.