Little star

Last week the world lost a shining star. Someone who had defied the odds for so long, maybe I'd decided the experts just gotten something wrong, and that in fact she would be around for a long time to come. But no.

She was someone who squeezed more life and spirit into her two decades than most of us could manage in our entire, much longer lifespans. If we could all just be a little bit more like this little star then life would be a much livelier experience.

And now that this short life is over, this wonderful young lady lives on as a bunch of smiling memories, like bright yellow sunflowers, which will always stay in the hearts and minds of the incredibly large number of people she touched with her life, love, and laughter.

10 things I'm going to do now the semester is over

1. Write some snail mail
2. Spend more time with my lettuces
3. Read a book. And not one with references or diagrams
4. Go on holiday. Turkey - look out
5. Finally send my dad his birthday present. Sorry Dad!
6. Make time for some friendly faces around here I haven't seen for ages
7. Go to the cinema
8. Pick up my quilt again
9. Write something creative
10. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep
    

Friday Transportation

On our way to Islington for 'post-longest day at work ever' drinks - a friend and I had a new experience. We got to ride a 'number 4' bus.

Now, in some cities that might not be so unusual but in London, it is obviously quite unique for them to get this low. I still remember the time I saw the number 1 drive past me at Elephant & Castle. Was very exciting.

So here we were on the lowest numbered bus either of us had been on, when the bus driver announced a detour. The guy sitting in front of us turned around and asked if we knew where the new route would take us. "I don't know" said my bus buddy. "We've never taken a single figure bus before", as if to explain our ignorance.

Yesterday also found me in the back of a taxi with a driver who felt he should share his 'largest fares ever' stories with us. Our entire journey from Euston Station back to work in the City. There was the time he drove someone to Cardiff for £330; to Ipswich for £200; To Gatwick for £150... "And the geezer didn't even ask for a receipt!".

I'm always amused at taxi drivers (including this one) who feel they must outline the finer details of the route they are about to take me on, as if I'm going to argue with someone who has probably spent about 34 months studying for a London navigational exam called 'The Knowledge'.

Interesting, studies have shown that cabbies in London tend to develop an especially large hippocampus, which is a region of the brain implicated in navigational ability.

Some places I've been recently

I'm not usually one for holiday snaps, but I thought I'd throw in a few nice shots of a couple of beautiful places I went to recently.

Complete opposite ends of the spectrum, with one being wild and ruggedly stunning; the other traditionally grand and awe-inspiring. Trains got me some, or all of the way each time, so no battling with Icelandic ash.


In Wales we stayed the weekend in a renovated church run by a slightly mad London woman while roaming the great outdoors, climbing a mountain, and drinking the local ales.


A couple of weekends later and the air was altogether more cosmopolitan. 36 hours in Paris with just a handbag and a fabulous friend for company. We sat in the sunshine and ate light and delicate pastries, drinking silky smooth espresso;


we visited the resting place of Oscar Wilde, Jim Morrison and thousands of other grand Parisians, resting in a green oasis still within the city limits.


We saw garden sculptures, took the metro all over, ate escargot, drank carafes of cheap red wine and got laughed at by a rude French waiter. All the things you should do on a trip to Paris.

A sweet education

Quote of the day:

"Emma generally seems to know quite a bit if you ask her about things, but if you ask her anything about English sweets or crisps, it is like talking to a three year old. She knows nothing and has never tried anything."

And so began my education.

Today it was a 'Twister'. Best described as an iced lolly on a stick, with a twist of ice cream through it, it is apparently pineapple, lemon and lime flavoured,with strawberry on the inside. Wikipedia tells me the Twister was first produced in 1982.

I have to say it went down quite nicely as a 3pm snack. Particularly as the usual Arctic-like office air conditioning was having an Amazon rainforest day. We sat there, as a team, trying to look serious at our desks, diligently doing our work, all sucking on traffic light coloured ice creams.

Tribulations of academia

It is interesting being a student again. Not in an "oh learning is so interesting" kind of way, although that is the case. No, I mean that it is interesting seeing how I do things differently to the last three times I've studied for a qualification.

I have such vivid memories of sitting in front of a computer, not even being able to bare looking at the essay anymore. I'd just print it, breathe a sigh of relief and go celebrate. These days I do like I did tonight, which was to sit in front of my computer, and dither terribly for about half an hour. Reading it again and again, checking three times all the attachments are there and I've spelled my last name correctly. Then eventually I muster the courage to send it off, after which the only feeling I get is an impending sense of doom. Not more waves of immense relief. Just fear that I've done something idiotic.

Anyway, in an attempt to feel some relief prior to the goblins of exam study moving on in, I'm off to Paris for the night. 36 hours avec fabulous friend and one small (well packed) handbag. C'est merveilleux.

Love & Marriage

I used to be a complete cynic, and whilst not all of that has washed away, I've come to realise there is something quite lovely about the institution of marriage.

This year I have been fortunate enough to witness the marriages of four wonderful people who each wanted to stand up in front of a bunch of friends and relatives and exclaim their feelings for the other. The rest of us were lucky enough to dress up nice, drink the champagne, and share the day.

The papers tell me that marriage is more unpopular now than almost ever before, but no one has told that to my friends. And my friends' friends. Which is a good thing.

As I contemplate missing another special wedding this weekend, on the other side of the world, I am pleased that some are still bucking the trend by dressing up, hiring a venue, inviting loved ones, and standing up in front of a crowd to say 'I choose you'.

That old democratic right

Just now, mid-Wednesday evening, I sat on my bedroom floor and decided who I want to represent me in the next parliament.

It is the first time I have voted under a 'first-past-the-post' system, so felt slightly ripped off at only getting one vote, but considering I'm an immigrant, it was pretty nice of the country to let me contribute all the same.

Tomorrow is a big day here. Just about anything could happen. No more do we have to watch the terrible Conservative billboards go past the bus window; there wont be the hideous Gordon Brown election gaffs to wince at; and the amount of junk mail the Franconia ladies get will reduce right back down to Indian takeaway flyers and dodgy taxi cab business cards.

Who knows what the result will be tomorrow, but I plan on staying up all hours watching it roll in; probably until my head eventually tips back and sleep overcomes me on the sofa. My life is wild. But I love it.

Geological warfare

I always find it nice on that odd occasion when Mother Nature says "take that world! You may think you rule, but let me show you who is really boss". We had it in wintertime with the snow dumps; and now she has done it again, via volcanic activity.

Last weekend found the skies of London eerily quiet. No vapour trails slicing through the skies, but no roaring of 737s overhead either.

The weather was stunning, which led to the thought that the ash cloud is perhaps now nothing to do with an Icelandic volcano, and more about the vast number of bbqs which were lit on the afternoons of Saturday and Sunday.

Speaking of crazy thoughts, I do love a good conspiracy theory. Apparently this Icelandic ash cloud is actually just an excuse to get all the planes out of the sky because of a massive terrorism plot. Genius. Even the Met Service are involved it seems. Brilliant.

If only those in power were really that creative.

The romanticism of rail

Yesterday, for a dull reason I wont go into, I made my way to work by train, rather than the usual red double-decker 155.

There really is something quite romantic about arriving into a grand railway station like Waterloo. I felt I should have a stack of brown suitcases and a bodiced dress with a quaint hat for daytime wear. Certainly not trainers and a shoulder bag.

But all the same, it was quite lovely to step off into a nice piece of history, rather than my usual side of a road at Elephant & Castle. It just reminded me how much I love almost everything about rail, and that maybe it is nearing time for another rail adventure.