mamma mia, here i go again

Just got back from seeing Mamma Mia!  I was a little disappointed: I think Billy Elliot had set my standard for musicals way too high.  I felt the whole show was too understated!  I wanted more flashing lights and spontaneous dancing and loud, heartfelt singing!  There wasn't that sense of exhilaration upon leaving the theatre that I got from Billy Elliot.  I did enjoy it, though.  Here comes a plot-spoiler, so if you've never seen Mama Mia and really care...then stop reading here.  But I liked how she never finds out who her real father is.  Because the whole time, I was thinking it had to be that one guy (sorry, don't remember names) who was the coolest, handsomest, most down-to-earth of the three possibilities.  The other two were placed there for comic relief, basically, and so therefore could not be her real dads.  I was expecting the whole time for her to find out it was Mr. Down-to-Earth, you know, the one who didn't enjoy getting lapdances from her friends at her bacherlorette party, because he was too mature and father-like to be into that kind of thing.  But then it ends--and she still doesn't know!  I liked that.  It would have been too predictable, otherwise. 

just another monday night

Currently sitting on the floor of my room surrounded by quarto (1608) and folio (1623) versions of Shakespeare's King Lear.  I hear Disney music coming from Lucy's room--Beauty and the Beast.  Michael's bemoaning the snail's pace of our internet connection.  Esther's shuffling back and forth to and from the kitchen, cooking dinner.  Everyone's doors are open, and we have freshly baked cookies on our table (courtesy of yours truly). 

QM fluties

Barbara, Camilla, Anne, Anna-Maria

The last orchestra concert of the season was at 7:30 last night in the Octagon at Queen Mary.  As you can see from the picture above, a good time was had by all--at least by all of the flute section.

poetry and tea and scones

My favorite thing about the Salt Lake City Arts Festival is the poetry slam competition.  The poetry of poetry slams generally  goes against my usual poetical preferences, solely because it is so wordy.  But there is just something about slams.  The words are relentless and rhythmic and passionate and unexpected, sometimes funny, sometimes sad, often politically charged.  And I love being part of a crowd entranced, enjoying these creative endeavors, generous acts of bravery.  I feel that poetry slammers are generally people who are not in the spotlight, and here they are, sharing something deeply personal with strangers.

I went to a poetry slam of sorts the other night, at a pub called the White Hart next to Crystal Palace station.  There were three guys who performed their poetry, none of whom you'd take for poets if you were to pass them in the street.  I wasn't a fan of their main subject--various drugs and their effects--but I was able to enjoy the crowd and the atmosphere, the rhythm and enthusiasm.  There was another guy who read a poem about Jewish eyeballs, which Rachel and I laughed at (she's Jewish), and a poem about pigeons.  Anyway, it was fun, but nothing compared to the poets of SLC.  I definitely want to search out more slams, though, and give London's poetry scene another chance!

Bekah came to visit me the other weekend.  We were a part of the same church youth group back in middle school/high school.  She is studying in Seville, Spain this semester.  On the Sunday she left, I took her to Columbia Road, and we had tea and scones with clotted cream and jam at a little place called The Cake Hole.  It's located in the back of a store called Vintage Heaven with a lavender doorway.  I can't wait to take my mom there when she and my dad are here in June!

On a not-so-fun note, I had a doctor's appointment today for my leg, which has still been bothering me.  It's driving me nuts not being able to run in all this nice weather London's been having--and I'm not even supposed to be walking much.  Kind of difficult to live in a place like this and not walk a lot, but I'm trying!  I want to heal quickly! And...now I need to go get my laundry.  :)

from St. James's Park

never underestimate the minor characters

 .......................................................


FIRST SERVINGMAN: Dejectitude?  What's that?

William Shakespeare, The Tragedy of Coriolanus, Act 4 Scene 5



...no but really: what is that?

happy belated pancake day

Yesterday was Pancake Day.  It's the day before Lent (I forget the official name), and Lucy told me it's when families are supposed to clean out their cupboards in preparation for fasting, and usually people have all the ingredients for pancakes, so that's what they make.  Flat 40 made European- and American-style pancakes last night, with lemon and blueberries.

Kira, my roommate from last year at Westminster, went back to Utah last Saturday, after staying with me for a week.  We went all over London--split a slice of mocha cake at Foyle's cafe, bought egg rolls in Chinatown, found Peter Pan in Hyde Park, got spritzed with perfume at Harrod's, listened (and dozed) to Evensong at St. Paul's, window-shopped on Oxford Street, rode a double-decker to Piccadilly Circus, hit up the Sunday upmarket in the east end, strolled along the Thames at night, ran in Victoria Park, went clubbing in Camden.  We had lots of down-time, too, and she really enjoyed hanging out with my flatmates.  I'm glad I got to show her around London and share a little bit of this huge experience with her, but it was the little things I've missed about her that made her visit so special: chatting over oatmeal and coffee in the mornings, late-night chats about the big and the little things in life, spontaneous dance parties, shouting her name down the hallway, grocery shopping, etc.  Lauren joined us on Thursday--she also goes to Westminster, and is studying in Glasgow this semester.  I was able to go to class and turn in essays while Kira and Lauren did their own thing. 

Here we are in front of Big Ben and Parliament.

There is a brand new mall by St. Paul's called One New Change.  We took the glass elevator up to the top of the mall for a view of St. Paul's and the city.

On Sunday morning, we went to the Columbia Road flower market.  It's about a half an hour's walk from my flat.  I'd never been before, and it's something I'd always been meaning to do.  We both loved it, and I ended up going back there with Lauren the next Sunday.

"Three for a fiver!"

Columbia Road is lined with small quirky shops.  Kira bought a beautiful necklace at this jewelry shop.

Seagulls at Hyde Park

This is the Peter Pan statue in Hyde Park.  She can fly, she can fly, she can fly!

Sunny day.

Hyde Park

Harrod's

Harrod's

On Friday night, we went out for curry at a place off of Mile End road.  Kira made a new friend.

Lauren, Kira and I getting ready for a night out in Camden