tricks and treats...

Friday: costume only half assembled. Get home late from the office, roommate is spectacularly dressed as Vampire Bride when I walk in. About 11pm her and her friend are about to leave, they get a call the Roxy has been shut down. No Motherfucker party (man am I glad I wasn’t planning on going). Quelle horreur. After consultations with various Brooklyn based peeps, I decide that it’s just too cold and I’m not totally feeling the witching season, so stay in.

Saturday: household chores done, costume has all the elements, just not in the right order. Heading over to the McKibben lofts to hang out and sort out costumes, I’m asked to pick up a bottle of wine and some fake blood [no, it’s not the basis of some weird ritual]. A bunch of places had already sold out of fake blood, so I head to a Ricky’s… where there are lines to get in about 20 people long, and staff monitoring the line like it’s a ride at an amusement park. Out. Of. Control. I end up joining the line, buying blood and things. Will cooks us an amazing dinner [it’s so nice to sit down at a table to eat with friends], we drink some wine, I play with the kitty [allergies schmallergies]. I have a nice wine buzz going on. We’re playing records. Will and Christian head on out, we say we’ll see them later. CC is prancing round in her Dead Heidi outfit, putting finishing touches to it, I’m probably going out as a vampire bunny [not the official costume, an alternative], we’re in contact with Lauren about a party in the East Village… Then somehow we’re sat in the kitchen chatting away drinking cups of tea and we lame out on plans, staying in to drink tea, play with the kitty, Peter’s playing guitar, there’s a dance party goin’ on down the hall that CC tries to persuade us to crash. No dice.

Sunday: wake up to a beautiful morning and a sneaky extra hour in bed as the clocks have gone back. We get up, put on records, CC makes tea and breakfast while I walk down to get the Sunday papers. Eggs Florentine and the NY Times as the sun streams in through the studio windows and 33 plays on the record player… beautiful. It feels like the first day of spring, not almost November. We go stand on the roof, taking it all in, then I realise I have to make the trek back to Joizey. The L is still fucked [why Halloween weekend, MTA? Why?] and the replacement shuttle buses are pretty crammed full. Stock up in Whole Foods Union Square before I waste my paycheck on crap [its so nice having a fridge/freezer/cupboards with actual food in them], get back to JC and only girl-roomie is around. I finish up my costume, sewing the appriopriate parts while half-watching the Goonies with her. She goes out a while later, ergo I have the place to myself. I move the furniture to one side in the living room – a place which is probably about 20 ft long – and have a lot of fun skateboarding around. Hard wood floors, can get up some good speed… I’m feeling hyperactive, decide to call my parents, not really thinking about the fact that it’s like 11 at night over there. My ma’s been working all weekend at a show and has been ill too, so she just ignores my bounciness. Poor momma. Roommates eventually start arriving back in dribs and drabs. I assemble my costume, head over to Lauren’s. We end up watching a really downbeat, sad episode of Grey’s Anatomy. Really conducive to the party spirit… Later we hook up with CC and head to Monsters Ball, drinking whisky along the way. It’s the beginning of my downfall…

Monster’s Ball: [things I remember]
• A lot of French people
• A lot of people dressed as Orthodox or Hassidic Jews
• This guy telling me that no one would understand how awesome my costume was [oh yeah, I went as a Warrior. Y’know, from the film The Warriors. It was rad. I had a bandana tied round my head ‘n everything.]
• Splitting to go find Sparks on Bedford Ave.
• A girl up a tree at Bedford and N 6th, screaming “I hate you!” at the top of her lungs as some guy tried to cajole her down. Surreal, even for Halloween, even for Williamsburg.
• Staring in horror at the window display of the Meat Palace or whatever the hell that place is called with the big ceramic pigs and bunnies and photos of Alec Baldwin and Freddie Prinze Jr.
• Chugging Sparks on the corner of N 10th before going back inside
• I should never have Sparks. Never.
• We go back inside and I notice they’re doing $3 “vampire shots” [whatever the hell that is] all night so I buy us each one. We thrown them back and all simultaneously agree they’re naaaaasty.
• Talking with Merlin about the coverage he got that morning in the Style section of the Sunday [NY] Times.
• Sarah turns up for her set. She tells us where the free vodka is. Oh dear.
• This girl who apparently looks like one of the dudes from My Chem Romance who’s dressed as Adam Ant thinks I’m hott and wants to make out. Nice to know I have options at least for when I entirely give up on the male species.

Things I don’t entirely remember:
• Most of the journey home [it’s an easy autopilot route back from the burg, lucky for me] [and, er, yikes]
• What time I got in
• What I’d done with my PATH metrocard this morning

Today, Halloween:
Wake up and I’ve overslept. Call into work and tell them I’m feeling a little under the weather but I’ll be in by about eleven. Eventually manage to crawl out of bed at about 10:30. Speaking to Lauren on AIM I discover I went back for more free vodka last night. This I don’t remember. Make some food. Think I’m feeling better so head to work. Get in at 12:30. Leave again at 1. Manage to hold it together on the PATH train, but it’s close. Get home, spend rest of day lying on sofa, watching Halloween-themed TV, like ‘Stephen King’s IT’ and, currently, Nightmare on Elm Street. Johnny Depp is so young and cute in this. Does he get killed? I don’t remember. I don’t even think I’ve ever seen this movie right the way through.

So Halloween-US style. Interesting. I’m missing the parade in the city [obviously]. I didn’t hit up many parties. I was impressed by the costumes and the lines at Ricky’s, clearly this shit is taken seriously here. I just had one tiny trick-or-treater but I wasn’t expecting any and we have nothing here [I also answered the door in my pajamas whilst talking on my cell phone. The mom was like “Oh – oh sorry, come on Rachel!”]

Happy Halloween and many tricks and treats to one and all.

I Are Scientist, You Are Scientist, We Are Scientists

We Are Scientists absolutely KILLED IT last night at the Bowery Ballroom. Fo' real. They fucking ruled.

I felt bad for Ambulance Ltd that they had to follow up after that.

I have a crush on all three Scientists. They played such a good set. The finale: the lead singer [totally hott] standing on the drum set, the bass player holding half the drums from falling down, all three of them tight together yelling into their mics with just the drums playing.

Okay, I'm gonna stop gushing soon, but if you get the chance go see the mofos. They rock ['n roll].

Highlight of the evening: [besides the W.A.S. set] Lauren doing her impression of a customer trying to find a little t-shirt for her dawg at her store.

Oh, and when I got back to Newport last night, the whole area smelled of maple syrup. It was most strange, and if I hadn't still been full from an amazing French dinner, I totally would have started craving pancakes.

We Are Scientists. Do it.

[I wish I knew a better way to do this - y'know, like those mp3 blogs or whatever - but I'm gonna have to stick with trusty ol' yousendit:

We Are Scientists-Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt

band site, which is as funny online as they are in person:
We Are Scientists

Can you tell they may be my New Favourite Band?

white belt alert

i'm wearing a white belt today.

do i need to be shot on the spot?

mp3 heaven and halloween dilemmas

I'm feeling remarkably chipper today, following the black cloud that seems to have been enveloping me recently. I had very odd dreams about Lula magazine and Jimmy and Leith and sealions and having random body parts grafted to other parts of my body. Very strange.

I think my ipod has finally bitten the dust. Kicked the bucket. Gone to the big Tekserve in the sky. The battery ran out as I got in to work yesterday morning, so I whacked it on charge for the day, picked it up when I left. As I left the building I turned it on. The first few tantalising bars of Kaiser Chiefs kicked in, lifted my spirits somewhat. I crossed the road. The battery died. I almost threw it on the ground and stamped on it [yes, I can be that childish]. I work round the corner from Tekserve on 23rd, so I went there to ask them about it. The dude was cool, he recommended coming back in the morning so they could change the battery for me as there was a bit of a line right then. Excellent. I'm happy. I'm walking out the door. He calls after me.

"Oh hey, what kinda ipod is it?"

"A mini."

Sharp intake of breath. "Oooh. Sorry. Nothing we can do for you then. We've tried changing mini batteries, just kills the ipod."

"So - nothing?!"

"Sorry."

Mother. Fuckers. Not even a year old. Totally going to bitch to Crapple about that one. 5 second battery life. My arse.

So last night I caught like the last half hour, forty minutes or so of 'Honey'. I've admitted to having a soft spot for cheesy hip-hop movies before, right?

So on a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is it that I found Lil' Romeo totally hot? He's like, fourteen or something. For shame!

Oh, and I still don't know what the eff to wear for Halloween. I went by this shop on 14th last night and was completely overwhelmed. England totally misses out on the Halloween efforts, swear to God.

reggae time and wet hot american summers

So I spent the whole weekend "running on reggae time" (new phrase of the weekend) (i.e., verrrry laid back and not keeping to any particular time at all). I left work at 9pm on Friday for my sins, got back to the messy overrun JC apt to find two of the boys watching Van Helsing (worst.movie.ever.) and Jas and her friends who are here from the UK already hammered, listening to 80's music very loudly and trying to do kickflips on my skateboard in the bedroom.

Left the hovel as soon as I could to head down to the LES to meet up with CC and her friend Tahiti. Time just escaped me all night (I wasn't even drinking) and somehow it was three thirty in the am and we were sat on Devendra's tour bus by Webster hall discussing the finer points of R Kelly's "Trapped in the Closet." Apparently at the VMAs, he performed the entire thing, by himself, playing each part. My cheeks were hurting we were laughing so much about it all. Then conversation faded into listening to some guy talk about toenail fungus and continue to make the same joke after it ceased being funny about five minutes before. It eventually got to a point where I felt like I could barely keep my eyes open so we scooted off the bus, leaving Tahiti and Noah and Devendra to the crazy guy (what the hell was he on to be like that at that time of morning?) and cabbed it back downtown to Broome and Orchard, staggered up to the fifth floor walk up, watched some Britpop DVD then crashed. For a long time.

Headed over to Bushwick on Saturday, stopped by the flea market then went to the McKibben lofts where I had food cooked for me and I got to play with the kitty, Spats (cutest thing in the world). I hung around two cats this weekend – there was a tabby at the LES apt – and my allergies were totally playing up but did that stop me from scooping the cats up and playing with them and having them attach themselves to my lap? No. I just sneezed and wheezed and played with the kitties and thought that allergies to animals should be banned. Later on we went to the Pink Pony for dinner – the mirror in that bathroom is so freaky. I’ve seen it before but it always completely throws me and makes me lose my balance. The service at PP was crummy and it was pissing it down outside [translation: it was raining really hard]. C’s friends came and joined us, and I was transfixed by these four girls who were sat a table down from us and looked like they’d just walked out the early 1990s. Fo’ real. One girl had the worst hat on and I kept thinking of Tori Amos. Another had this too-tight Union Jack tee on with the words “Def Leppard” printed across the chest in rhinestones (and no trace of irony in wearing it, either)… it was just like car-crash fashion. Couldn’t tear my eyes away.

Later we started watching Wet Hot American Summer or Hot Wet American Summer or whatever the hell it’s called. As Madonna was playing Misshapes, there was us: C totally passed out, me sleepy but kind of enjoying this ridiculous movie.

But then one of the people who live in the apt we were staying in who wasn’t meant to be back till next week came back. It was the wee hours of the morning. He’d just got back from tour in LA. And we were in his room. In his bed. Watching his TV. I felt so bad.

Sunday was more of the chilled-ness, reggae time, do what we want – coffee and muffins at Babycakes, walking around the city, up to St Marks, over to Washington Square where we sat in the sun for a while, browsing Shakespeare and Co. and discovering Sarah’s book on the shelf (and after flicking through it, putting it back more prominently on display, ha ha), heading back over on 2nd and finding an old photograph of a solider probably from WW2 that someone had thrown out and nicking it (now pinned up on my wall, didn’t want him to be trashed like that), having tea at the apartment then finding the will to trudge back to JC. As I walked in to my apartment I realized why I try to spend as little time as possible there, I could practically feel my heart being squashed as I walked through to my room.

And now it's Monday morning and having just checked my balance online I've discovered I have all of $10.38 to last me until Friday. It's going to be an interesting week.

a loaded God complex, cock it and pull it

the male species, in general, sucks. and please note i did say "in general". yes, i am generalising.

for some reason this week it seems to be harrassment week. and i'm fucking fed up of it (oh, by the way, in case you hadn't realised, i'm also really overtired and kind of cranky right now).

guys. if you're drunk or crazy or bitter about some girl or not having some girl or about some other guy who got the girl or whatEVER the hell it is, please don't take it out on others.

being held up and being told you'll be raped for ten bucks if necessary isn't fun.

having a crazy drunken old man leering and leching and getting too close and talking filthy at you as you walk from the subway to the PATH train at one in the morning isn't fun.

having someone try and convince you to get in their car when you're on a deserted street with building sites either side is a little edgy, when he gets in his car, drives off and pulls up a way up the street, blocking your way, isn't remotely fun.

having someone holler at you down broadway is kind of funny when you don't realise it's aimed at you, a little less amusing when you realise it is, and a lot less fucking funny when the dude follows you for two blocks.

having the guy that always hangs out on the corner of the street where i work ("Yo, Air Force Ones, Air Force Ones, Gucci bags, white t-shirts...!") be all "Yo, 'sup ma..." every time I walked past - well, actually that was kind of funny.

for the record, at no point was i dressed like a hooker. if i was wearing a skirt it was a reasonable length. i wasn't wearing fuck-me boots (i don't even own any; my boots are flat and slouchy and totally battered. i need new ones). my jeans weren't skin-tight. i was usually wearing a long-sleeved sweater or a jacket. there was nothing that was saying "yes, i want this attention." maybe it's the fact i'm walking by myself? that shouldn't have to be a factor. no one else lives in JC, what'm i meant to do, take a fucking cab everywhere? find an escort? not go out, ever again?

and it probably is just because i am tired and down and a little grumpy that i feel the need to vent off about this or whatever, but i don't know if (nice) guys know how often it happens to girls, and i'm fed up and it's happened too much this week and i'm crap with this kind of stuff anyway, it's really putting me on edge and giving me a stomach ache.

the next time it happens i might just turn around and box that guy in the nose. that'd learn 'im.

champagne and amazons

overheard in the office kitchen earlier on:

"yeah, but - last night? it was great - 'cause - she was riding on a horse, right? and - like, the amazons? they rode horses too? so - like - she was like an amazon?"

me, pissing myself laughing, making a cup of tea. i have no idea what the context of that snippet was.

* * *

1. i kind of feel like i'm not taking the hold-up thing seriously enough, when i compare my reaction/how i feel to how others have reacted when they hear about it. am i just being stupid? although walking back up to 9th St from the LES on Monday night i did suddenly realise i was kind of jumpy when this guy lurched out at me from nowhere.

2. i'm averaging about three to four hours sleep a night right now, and it's killing me. it's just a case of work hard, play hard. i missed the Franz party on monday night at the tribeca grand because i was working till 3 a-bloody-m. that kinda sucked. and i felt terrible at letting my friend down, but i really had to get that stuff done for the magazine.

3. last night me & CC were working late at my office on our own 'zine (abusing the company's internet and potentially their colour photocopier). it got to like 9:30, we were more or less packing up and messing around watching stupid cartoon music videos from paperrad.org when the Boss walks past. i mean like the CEO, the big cheese, the one after whom the company is named. "oh shit," i think and garble out something out working late on projects. he just smiles. i go to the bathroom and when i come back, CC is in the kitchen talking to the boss... who's brought us out spare sandwiches from his meeting. turns out they're having a late meeting but he's fed up of the client, bored with the meeting, and using us as an escape. so he gives us some dinner, then we're trying to find a bottle opener for the nice bottle of red wine he's just offered us but we can't. he offers us scotch instead. no thanks. then he pulls out a bottle of champagne, opens it and makes us hang out in his office so he doesn't have to go back to the meeting. it was hilarious. and champagne - and it was the good stuff - gets me drunk as fuck. good times... we then headed over to barcade to round off the night.

4. i'm totally obsessed with that 'tendency' song by battle. i've had it pretty much on repeat for about a month. i totally wear songs out like that. i have a repetitive playlist that i listen to constantly for a bit. but damn, tendency - awesome track. hunt it down.

5. the photos for the magazine project came out brilliantly. i was blown away. everyone involved totally stepped up and came up with some really excellent shots, and i can't wait to see what the magazine does with them. FYI, the Ed. loved the shots too, which is both awesome and a huge relief... So yeah, at the moment these are some of my all-round favourite people (CC, Lauren, Rob, Alex, Seva - and please include the lovely Mizzz Lewitinn, who sadly couldn't be in the photobooth as she was DJing at the time):

misshapen adventures and other news

so last night walking from misshapes to the station, i totally got held up. as in, your money or your life held up, not waylaid.

so it's about 4am, i'm walking up bedford, a very handy little road with narrow sidewalks that runs from right opposite luke & leroy's straight up to christopher street. handy, like i say. i've had a few drinks, had a really good evening [it's so much better going out at the last minute, with no expectations], walking up with my earphones on. i think the kaiser chiefs were playing at that exact moment. i have my PATH ticket clenched in my hand so i don't have to rummage around for it at the station.

all of a sudden this guy steps out in front of me and grabs me by the front of my jacket. he steps up, he's right up in my personal space. i take off my earphones.

"i'm dying of aids. i ain't never raped no one before, but i will. i want ten dollars to get home."

my first thought:
"did he really just say that?"

my second thought:
"ten dollars? he must be having a laugh. i don't have ten dollars."

what i actually say:
"er, you want my train ticket?" offering him the PATH ticket.

he shakes me. "no. i need ten dollars. i'm dying of aids."

yeah man, i heard that the first time.

what i say now:
"i don't have ten dollars. why don't you go down there?" gesturing back to seventh ave south.

"no. ten dollars." the guy is bugging. i guess he was probably totally cracked out. his eyes...

a cab driving up bedford slows down next to us.

"there. look, that cab will drive you home."

cracked-out crazy guy stares at me, gets a firmer grip on my jacket. i try and push his arms away.

"i need ten dollars to get home!"

i'm getting a bit annoyed now. change the record mate.

"i don't have ten dollars. why don't you just walk?!"

yes. it was a stupid thing to say. he'd pretty much just threatened to rape me a few moments earlier. who's to say he wasn't carrying a knife or something.

but the crazier thing: he let go.

maybe it was the cab that had stopped [i don't know if it stopped because of this situation, or to let someone out] or maybe he realised that beyond 15-odd rides on the PATH train he wasn't going to get much out of me, or maybe he thought it actually was a pleasant evening for a walk home, find a nice back alley to shoot up in somewhere on the way back, but he let go and walked off.

i turned and carried on walking up bedford, totally bemused until about a second later when the shakes hit badly and i call the ladies who i'd just put in a cab back to brooklyn outside misshapes, just for the human contact, and possibly alarmed them a little as i couldn't get my words out quite straight.

sheesh. quelle adventure. it's the full moon, man. makes people looney (lune-y. of course.)



in other news:
i'm super glad the weather finally cleared, the rain was really depressing me. the sunshine totally lifted my spirits and a bike ride from the 'burg down to brooklyn botanical gardens (where we talked nicely to the guard who then let us in for free, ha ha) lifted them more. my back tire blew out on the way back which was kind of a pain though.

i've been lazy and don't have much food in the house so my diet this weekend has consisted of toast, matzo, ice cream, noodles, cups of tea and OJ. i'm eating well, ma, honest... methinks a trip to the grocery store is in order.

skateboarding round my apartment is my new favourite past-time, and guaranteed to start annoying people sometime soon so i'll have to save it for when no one is around. but we have hardwood floors throughout which is a great surface.

i've been sat in front of my computer alllll day today supposedly finishing up my class assignment. i only left the house to run across the road to duane reade to get one of the disposable cams for the mag project developed. so i just had to go pick another camera up off someone who was in the hood and was shocked by the cold and wind and elated at the same time at the fresh air and freedom. i need to get out for a bit.

bad jews and there is no floor 13

as it's yom kippur, a seasonal true story for you all.

it was back in london, when i was working at the broadcasting company. i was covering reception, doing the early shift. the other receptionist, samantha, got in about 9:45, already moaning. it was yom kippur, she's jewish, ergo she was fasting (but had come in to work anyway). she's a mouthy broad, that one - i get on well with her, but that's only 'cause i never took any of her shit - and she kept moaning and bitching about being hungry and feeling faint, and she'd been ill earlier in the week and was saying she probably shouldn't be fasting because she was still weak from being ill. then she decided G-d wouldn't mind too much if she just had a little something to keep her going, so she went down the shops.

she returned a few minutes later with a paper bag, looking guilty, but happier. she sat down at her computer, not saying anything. i was still answering phones. a few minutes later there was a lull, no phones ringing, no cars to call for. she turned to me.

"oh han. it's so bad."
"what's wrong sam?"
"i got a sausage roll," she says in a quiet voice, leaving this to sink in.
"so, like, pork?"
"yes!" she wails. "not only am i eating on yom kippur, i'm eating pork! i'm such a bad jew!"

and then she spends the rest of the day bitching about being a bad jew and eating at every opportunity she gets. atonement my ass.

* * *

okay. i had just written a whole blog entry that was pretty downbeat, but then i re-read it and was like, stop fucking whining... [to summarise: the weather's shit, my roommate is a jerk, i had cold wet feet all day, i'm broke, i can't find the energy, brain power, will power etc to finish my class project which i've looked at so long my mind is about to melt, i'm pretty scared and lacking faith in myself about this magazine project i'm running]. it may be honest, but it's just kinda boring to read.

it seems weird, too, 'cause there are some good things going on. like this project thing i get to run for a nice little magazine, which i should be really excited about, but i'm mainly kind of scared and a little antsy, that i'll totally fuck it up or something, that the kids who are being absolute stars and helping out will just be bored or - i don't know, think it's a waste of time or something. but then i just talked to one of the kids involved in the project and i actually am kind of looking forward to it now. just still a bit - well, a bit self-doubting i guess. but i have faith in them. they're good people.

and a cure for downbeatness and severe apathy in the face of 3000-word Managing Information projects: loud, good music. i think some old Motown or something. something singalongable. i was doing my laundry last night, wandering round the building in my PJs and scandinavian slipper sock thingies, and the radio station in the laundry room was playing Aretha and i was bopping around, transferring from washer to dryer. it was fun. then a guy came in and laughed at me, but in a nice way. oh, and we have a retarded elevator here. it never says the right floor number. and today it said "errrrr 13" every time we stopped. there *is* no floor 13. comedy. i like that possessed elevator. it has character.

ooh electrelane. i'll listen to that. reminds me of the montreal road trip. good times. good people.

okay, there's the upbeat i was looking for... :)

barcade and the london underground

There was me, that is Hannah, and my droog, that is Christy-Claire, and we sat in Barcade trying to make up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening...

oof, i can't tell you how good it is to be back in the big a. up until last evening i was actually feeling kind of displaced, 'cause going back to london had felt weird, then coming back here felt like - well, i guess kind of like coming home, but i felt a little guilty admitting that. and i hadn't seen anyone - apart from running into suarez briefly outside whole foods when he was on the phone. oh, and randi on broadway on my way to class. but you know what i mean - so finally hanging out last night in the 'burg, getting falafel on union then heading up to barcade to nurse drinks and talk shit - and pose with my copy of the NME, apparently [i think that's one of the dudes from My Chemical Romance or something, but not entirely sure] - was good good good. back to the norm.

[man, a clockwork orange is just brilliant. read the book. see the film. i urge you.]

so anyway, back in london, i went for dinner on saturday night with my childhood best friend. she's exactly a week older than me, i've known her my entire life. i like that we're still close. so we were eating dinner and her mum was asking me about thoughts on london, if anything seemed to have changed, anything that surprised me. my answer? the tubes.

i haven't been back to london in five months or so, and in that time there have two terrorist attacks on the London Underground, one successful, one not. having seen how much security was stepped up over here - a very visible police presence at almost every station, random bag checks etc - i thought it would be pretty similar in london, seeing as that's where the attacks actually happened.

not a thing. the tubes seemed be running as ever - mostly okay but still with random line closures here and there, frequent delays and so on, but there didn't seem to be any extra security, apart from the odd PA announcement on the tube about suspicious packages. but london has endured the IRA bombing campaigns, so people were - or should have been, it was certainly something i grew up aware of - suspicious packages and unattended bags and so on. the only time i saw police was at liverpool street station (one of the targets of the successful bomb attacks) on the first sunday there, after brunch with james d, james h and leith, and hanging out in bethnal green, on my way home there were policemen milling about the main entrance to the tube lines there. but that's *it*.

then this morning, on my way to work, there are like five officers standing at the PATH station, someone's been yanked aside and is having their bag inspected...

i don't know if that whole furore with the brazilian electrician being shot after mistakenly being identified as a potential suicide bomber has made London wary of being too OTT on preventative measures or something, but it seems like they're doing nothing - nothing visible, at least - to possibly stop future attacks or reassure the public. i'm not saying i agree with bag checks, and i'm glad that london has got itself going again after the attacks, but it just seemed odd to me that it was as if nothing had ever happened...

waterloo sunset

Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner
That I love London Town
Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner
That I think of her, wherever I go
Ohhhhh
I get a funny feeling inside of me
Just walking up and down
Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner
That I love London town



why i love waterloo bridge: because the view from it is fucking amazing and reminds of just how awesome - no, wait, too american - how brilliant london is. cold, yes [it was raining when i took this shot, no surprise there]. expensive, yes. but beautiful and full of good people.



i always like this view, from just down between the Hayward Gallery. that's Big Ben you can see through the middle, obviously. [the wheel isn't about to roll off, it's just the angle off the bridge to the London Eye.]