spicy beef

***to note, the @ sign is not where it should be (above the 2), but instead over where the quote marks are. and the £ is right over the 3.

i've lost a lot of £'s in london so far.

already, i have let down the 2.6 people who might actually read this blog, and have updated all of once, in the wyndham hotel (aka wyndham hostel).


so i'll do my best to sparknote the majority of my (mis)adventures in london thus far.

let's see.
well, there could be the part about friday night - the night where i went to the tube station to buy my oyster pass and ended up ... well, i'll tell the story in narrative structure. i'm sure my creative writing professors would appreciate that more.

it was a dark and stormy afternoon, and some fellow group C-ers and i needed to go to the underground to purchase oyster passes. it's like a passkey to go on any zone 1 and zone 2 on the underground - all of central london and a few peripheral districts. unfortunately, no one really knew how to actually buy one for six weeks. so the group marches up to the station, only to be handed an elaborate pamphlet demanding address, name, password, mother's maiden name, and other various bits of information you don't expect to use when wanting to get from point a to point b. long story short and £127.00 later (RIP OFFFFFFF!!!!!) we decided, "hey, we just spent $300. let's use it somehow." which meant team C was off to picadilly circus for a joyride.

once we got to picadilly (the times square of london, so they say), we realized we were quite peckish. there was a restaurant called 'the crooked surgeon,; but that was sadly over-crowded. so instead, t.C. trooped over to a pub called o'neils, and discovered strombow, which tastes deliciously like apple cider, but has the frightful affects on mind and liver as beer. go figure. long story short, angie and i ended up at a pub called the volunteer talking to some brits about how american we were.

"you say 'like' way too much," my new chum rupert said.
"like, i do not!" i said. as i said, strombow = delicious but deadly.

then, they invited us to a party in soho. note, this was our first night, and i had way too much s.b. so we politely declined (angie said no and i just smiled a lot) and tried to figure out where regent's was. i had no idea, and neither did angie, so i hailed a cab. "regents park?" he said. "that's a block away, are you daft?" i didn't know how to respond, and i think i tried to get out, but he drove around 6 blocks and charged me £5.

it would've been a 3 minute walk.

the next day, part of my group did field research on regents and oxford street. these are the chic, happenin' places to shop, but sadly foot locker is neither chic nor happenin'. to say that it rains constantly is an understatment. to say that it rains non-stop is missing the mark. speaking of mark, mark, the receptionist at reid says that it 'spittles,' which is also an understatment. let me put it this way: all of my 4 pairs of jeans are still soggy, my trainers are mildewy, and my closet smells like a wet dog decided to move in.

and on that slighly gross note, i'm off to chinatown for some lo-mein and illegal asian prostitution. i'll continue this later.

quote of the day: "you want ze spicy beeeeeef?"

cheerio!