Episode VI: Return of the Pseudo-Londoner

So I'm back, having brought with me: 1. a much fuller suitcase than I landed in Boston with, 2. a friend, A, and 3. a slightly inflated ego. I can navigate the tube in my sleep. I can eat the spiciest Indian food the city has to offer, ten days in a row, without any unfortunate digestive repercussions, ha! I know I had better not wear my "New Hampshire clothes" (read: giant down parkas and sneakers) in London or I may as well wear a neon sign on my head declaring my American citizenship. This egotism will come back to bite me in my dark wash jeans-clad rear, but until it does, I am enjoying my time as a Faux Brit Extraordinaire with some clue about British city life.

A few days ago we ventured to the Freud Museum, and by "ventured" I mean hiked four miles. "It's good for us," we said, and to demonstrate just how good for us this was, we stopped at a street vendor to eat chickpea curry, nan, and baklava, instantly negating all burned calories. The Freud museum, host to some of Freud's belongings in addition to a separate exhibit that had little to do with Freud, was what one would politely call "enlightening," impolitely call "effing weird," but undoubtedly an experience, from the infamous sofa to the alarm clock filled with cigarette butts to the computer screensaver that I'm not sure should have been displaying all the pornography in the user's My Pictures file. Or perhaps that was part of the exhibit. At any rate I really wanted a pair of Freudian slippers but I held out in the name of minimalism. While in the area, I also did not see Paul McCartney lurking about St. John's Wood, but future stalking is certainly not out of the question.

Today we watched Charlton lose spectacularly to Middlesborough, but losing spectacularly is what Charlton does best so really the league should at least recognize them for this achievement. I've gone to three games now, three more than the number of Sox games I've attended, so I suppose I could consider myself a [mild] fan by now. The underdog teams just seem to wend their way into my heart tolerance of organized sport. I mean--and you Bostonians can back me up on this one--it's not as much fun when they always win, is it? Seriously?

posted by limeywannabe @ 8:32 PM