Wednesday, December 19, 2001
Today: re-read book 2 of Harry Potter (The Chamber of Secrets). Bummed that Snape is hardly in it at all.
Sort-of fixed the "Archive" link on the Blogger page, but there's a bit more I need to do.
This was my slack day; after the long apartment search and England I guess I just needed a day to sit around in my pajamas until 4:00pm. Funny moment when the band guys came over to rehearse at 3pm as originally scheduled, while the one absent member had called about an hour beforehand, unilaterally deciding to change rehearsal time to 6pm. Suffice to say the other guys were none too pleased, so no practice happened today. Overhearing the inner turmoil of not one but two rock-bands-on-the-cusp-of-stardom is like living in an indie-rock soap opera sometimes. As you may have guessed, the guys that we are subletting from are back early, it turns out, so once again we're a house doubled in population overnight. More smokers too. On the plus side, it's great to chat with Ron & Pat again, and they've agreed to help me move. Bonus.
posted by Ginger D. |
10:26 PM
Ah, sleepy. It took me no time at all to get back to my night-owl tendencies. I have been up doing some minor changes to my home page. I added some purty pictures -- do take a look, won't you?
Sorry to be telling you this after the fact, but I (along with pals Mike & Jean-Michele) attended a taping of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart on Monday. It was way, way cooler than my experience at David Letterman. Letterman was worth doing once, and I'm sure there are worse things in the world (war, disease, starvation, poverty...), but I wouldn't do it again. By contrast, The Daily Show was relaxed and fun, and over too soon. The weird thing was that Elijah "Frodo Baggins" Wood was the guest for Monday night's show, but they must have taped that segment earlier because we saw Gary Sinise being interviewed instead. I'm not knocking Gary Sinise--he rocks--but we were kind of sad to miss Elijah Wood. So, anyone who saw the show Monday night might have noticed that there's not much of a response when Jon said "Elijah Wood is here tonight..", and that's because we were all thinking "No he's not!" The rest of Monday's show was taped as you saw it (if you saw it), more or less. The thing I've been wondering is how they coordinate Jon's wardrobe so that it's not obvious that he's doing the interview on a different day. Maybe he only ever wears one suit, to ensure that everything matches. Ah, the magic of television...
After many phone calls, I got the keys to my new apartment from the manager. I let myself in and removed about 10 pounds of mail stuffed into the tiny mailbox for the previous tenant. I remembered the whole place rather differently, and the good news is in many ways I like it better than I remembered.
First of all my apartment is only on the third floor, not the fourth (the building is only three floors plus a basement), and the stairs are not all that intimidating. Moving heavy or bulky things up any stairs is a pain, but the steps weren't as high, narrow or steep as I'd feared. The apartment is bigger than I remembered too, which naturally a plus. The main room is about 15' x 13', and the bathroom and kitchen are each about 6' x 6'. The closet and windows are humanely-sized. Now, if I could only get the stove and refrigerator they promised me, I'd feel really good about the place. I did see a few roach carcasses in the toilet. How and why they got there I have no idea, and it makes me a little nervous. However, I opened all the cupboards and investigated all the nooks and crannies and I didn't see any creepies, so I figure it's better to see dead bugs than live ones. The place seems clean, and I've been told they spray once a month, so hopefully I can manage to keep the critters at bay.
And that is that for now. Cheers, all.
posted by Ginger D. |
3:15 AM
Monday, December 17, 2001
I’m back. And after spending a good couple of hours typing up my experiences for you lot, the blogger site went belly-up and I lost everything. I should know better! So this is the rewritten-from-memory version, and now I’m awfully tired:
First, the flight from New York to London merits a mention. Like any good paranoid citizen, I arrived at the airport THREE HOURS early for my 9am flight. It took me – no joke – no more than ten minutes to check in, extra-super security and all. Then I noticed that there didn’t seem to be a lot of people in the waiting area for my flight. Also, they didn’t board from the back rows as usual; they just said everyone could board at their leisure. When I walked on the plane I could see why—there couldn’t have been more than 50 people on the 767!
At first I thought this fear-of-flying stuff was getting out of hand, but then the captain announced that this flight was primarily for cargo, thus the deliberately light passenger load. Or so they claimed, anyway. Either way, it meant that for an entire transatlantic flight I could sit by the window without somebody next to me elbowing me in the ribs, or having to wait for the lavatory. Not only that, but any passenger who felt a little sleepy simply had to choose a row of five seats in the middle section, put up all the armrests and stretch out for a nap. No shortage of pillows or blankets on THIS flight, no sir! Even considering my few trips on First Class, this was by far the most comfortable flight I ever had. Of course I wasn’t so lucky on the way back, but heck, I’ll take what I can get.
Once in London I toured or at least walked by many of the major sights: Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London & Crown Jewels, British Library, St. Paul’s cathedral, British Museum (“Look Mum! Mummies!”), National Portrait Gallery, and Tate Britain. Old stuff is cool.
The most affecting sight for me was St. Paul’s. Although I am not much of a religious person, I am surprisingly moved by a lot of religious art and architecture. St. Paul’s is one big house o’ God, that is. I also found that I’m a bit of a closet monarchist. I identify with the propensity of royalty to like Nice Things. And all that pomp and ceremony is kind of neat if you are not so much bothered by all the beheadings and taxation without representation.
One evening Mom and I went on a Jack the Ripper-themed walking tour. The tour group was pretty huge, and I was surprised at how many people, like us, were foolish enough to walk for two and a half hours around London at night in the dead of winter. Fortunately the tour was interesting and it wasn’t THAT cold—as long as we kept moving. The tour guide had written a book about "The Ripper", and consulted with none other than Johnny Depp before the filming of “From Hell”, so he seemed to know his stuff. He showed us places where the victims lived and worked, and, morbidly enough, where they died. He also explained a little bit about the conflict between the City of London police force (the one square mile of original Roman property still known as “The City” and is primarily a financial district) and Scotland Yard, who policed the rest of London.
One night after a play we stumbled across the World Premiere of "Lord of the Rings" (Episode I). It was fairly late, so we stood out in the cold for a while trying to see if any celebrities were coming out. Finally they did, but they were all walking with their backs to us, so it was hard to recognize anyone. I did think I saw Liv Tyler and Christopher Lee, which turned out to be correct. Celebrity worship is so inconvenient in cold weather.
Harry Potter became a theme for the trip, though to more of an extent than I expected. I happily convinced my whole family (five of us including cousin Adam, who hung out with us after finishing his term at Oxford) to attend a matinee of “Harry Potter” (coincidentally, in the same theater which had the "Lord of the Rings" premiere). I did this for two reasons: first, my ex-officemate Bob said I had to go see a movie in one of the big theaters in Leicester Square, and second I wanted to see the characters say “Philosopher’s Stone” instead of “Sorcerer’s Stone” as they do in the American release. Turns out they only say it a couple of times, referring the rest of the time to “The Stone,” but heck I’ll take any excuse to watch Alan Rickman slinking around in his Goth get-up.
We saw a lot of theater on this trip, including two plays starring Harry Potter alums. First, we saw Zoe “Madame Hooch” Wanamaker in David Mamet’s “Boston Marriage” and then none other than Alan “Prof. Severus Snape” Rickman in Noel Coward’s “Private Lives.” We happened to see that the same day we saw "Harry Potter," so I was pretty much in love with him after the play was over. We were on our way to the tube station to go home, when I suddenly had to turn around to try to see if we could meet him outside the stage door. When my sister went to see the "Private Lives" her friends managed to get an autograph, so it didn’t seem impossible. Mom & stepdad gamely came along as we went around the block, found the stage door easily, and joined the little knot of people waiting. All the people there were young (college-aged or thereabouts) girls – no guys at all, my stepfather nervously noted – and they were obviously waiting for Mr. Rickman, since other cast members emerged without so much as a “good job” from the waiting crowd. We sort of felt bad about this since the other cast members were really good. But heck, if they want to be asked for autographs they better start getting parts in Hollywood movies.
So we waited there (again, in the cold), for at least half an hour I think. Just when we were starting to wonder how long we could wait before it really got ridiculous (I didn’t mention how long I waited for Hanson, but it was warm then), Alan Rickman emerged into the waiting throng. The crowd, all ten of us, gathered into a semi-orderly queue, and he went down the line signing things, making small talk, and generally being droll and lovely. Anything I may have wanted to say to him evaporated the instant it became my turn. Although I think I squeaked out a few words of no consequence, I prefer to remember it something like this:
Alan Rickman: Hello. I am wonderful.
Me: Uh.
AR: Let me sign that for you so you can treasure it always.
Me. Er.
AR: I’ll stand here so your mum can take a photo, though standing next to a celebrity means nothing in the grand scheme of things. Still, the memory will bring you happiness, despite the fact that you feel foolish and can’t even look at me properly.
Me: …
AR: Next!
To be fair, Mr. Rickman was a good sport and entirely charming. My stepfather and he seemed to get along famously, while I gibbered and drooled all over myself. I hope the photo turns out.
I made the necessary pilgrimage to King’s Cross station. I wanted to take a photo of the sign over the entryway to platforms 9, 10 and 11, but there was a big “Harry Potter opens November 16” banner over the sign. This was annoying, especially since the movie had been open for nearly a month. The platforms were not as described in the book—or in the movie for that matter. There wasn’t a barrier that I could see between platforms 9 and 10, because each platform was divided into two—platforms 9a and 9b for example—but no 9¾. Anyway, over platform 9 were hung a bunch of big banners saying “Hogwarts first years queue here” and so forth. They were well made and looked good, but I think I would have preferred it to just look normal, it was too obviously a promotional scheme for the movie. Even though it was pretty late I saw one mom taking pictures of her two beaming kids on the platform, so that was cute. Also, I walked across the bridge that Hagrid and Harry walk across in the movie. Except in the film they don’t have this ugly white plastic stuff blocking your view of the tracks.
One last Harry Potter note: Although they don’t do this in the film, in the book Hagrid first takes Harry to Paddington station so he can go back to Surrey after they are finished buying his school supplies (in the film they go straight to King’s Cross, making for a very long day for poor Harry). Although there are no annoying Harry Potter banners in Paddington station, there are a good number of raincoat-clad teddy bears. I suppose it won't be long before someone comes up with a Harry Potter walking tour. If I ever move to London, that's how I'll make ends meet.
My sister’s play was great, and she was amazing in it. I’m so proud. I hope she will become rich and famous so she can introduce me to other famous people (which is becoming something of a hobby lately) and take care of me when I’m old.
We saw “The Lion King”, which I now realize is the new “Cats” – but better. Visually, it’s amazing. The first five minutes were so overwhelmingly gorgeous that I burst into tears. Story and song-wise—well, if you’ve seen the movie, apparently it’s just the same. They did add some neat African-inspired songs, which, to me, were the musical highlights of the show. But, with all due respect to Elton John, I don’t really need to hear “Can you Feel the Love Tonight?” any more again, ever.
If you want your meal to be like a ride at Disneyland, Yo! Sushi is the place. A conveyor belt slides by all the tables and the bar, covered with color-coded dishes with all kinds of tasty bites. You just grab what looks good, the color of the plate determines the price. If you’re not careful you can go broke choosing all the pink ones. The challenge was to find the tastiest things in the lower price categories. Meanwhile, the drinks are served by a robotic trolley that rolls around the tables bleating “I just love this sushi thing!” Truly a trip, and the food was great.
So that’s about it for now…I've got to get to bed.
posted by Ginger D. |
1:20 AM
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