Jabbed

My big China trip is coming up soon, and there's so much to do. My contract ended on Friday, so today's the first real day I've had free to get all my travel things sorted.

I needed a bunch of passport pictures for visas I'll apply for along the way, and I discovered that Photobox does a great deal - 8 photos for 4 GBP (includes delivery). I just snapped a picture of myself against a white background and uploaded it, and I'm supposed to get them by tomorrow. Fab!

I also needed to get updates on a lot of my vaccinations, specifically polio, diptheria, tetanus, hepatitis A, typhoid, and rabies. I got my tetanus booster a year ago, but the polio, diptheria, and tetanus is a three-in-one so I got to get another one. Not fun. I ended up getting jabbed 4 times, and the technician was really quick so it wasn't too bad. I used to think it was odd that they call it a "jab" over here for a needle stick, but I've decided that's a pretty accurate description of what it feels like.

Yes, I've got a FOB mark. Lol

I did a ton of research to figure out where to go, and I ended up picking MASTA. They have a location within walking distance from my flat, and their prices are a wee bit cheaper than the others I looked at: Berkeley Travel Clinic, 1st Contact, and CityDoc. I know NHS does some for free, but I don't have much time left to get this done, and I was concerned about the difficulty in trying to schedule three different appointments before I leave for my trip.

All in all, I was pretty happy with the way the appointment went, but some things are a bit different here. For instance, the jabber didn't wear rubber gloves and she didn't swab the site of the injection with alcohol. She also didn't warn me when she was going to stick me, she just went at it with syringes blazing. I'm not complaining, it's just different. I actually didn't mind the lack of warning, since I didn't have time to tense up. I'm now riddled with MASTA plasters (band-aids), and the ache is starting to set in.

Only two more rabies shots to go. Woohoo!

A Whole New World

J came home last night and very slyly mentioned that he had been researching something. I was a bit wary, judging from the expression on his face, and I was right to be so. What had he been researching?

HONG KONG.

As in living in.

Oh my God.

Dinner and a Show

J and I decided to do up this Saturday big since I face-planted on the couch last weekend from being as sick as a dog, and I had a lot of fun to make up.

First order of business was catching a matinee showing of the musical Matilda at the Cambridge Theatre in Covent Garden. It's based on one of my favorite childhood novels by Roald Dahl, who's pretty much the best children's writer of all time, and it got excellent reviews so I was pretty excited.

As always, we arrived way too early, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise since J was able to snag a beer and I grabbed two large bags of sweet treats - one sour and one sweet cause a girl needs variety. =)

In any case, the theatre's smack dab in the middle of the seven dials, which is the intersection of seven shopping streets and the world's tiniest roundabout. The theatre is a bit tired looking, but the place was filled with schoolyard decorations such as chalkboards with rude sayings scrawled on them.

We weren't seated for too long when I noticed that a gentleman a few rows ahead of us looked an awful lot like Paul McCartney of the Beatles. I also couldn't help noticing that the lady next to him looked just like Paul McCartney's new wife. I couldn't stop staring because they looked so much like them that they had to be them, but it was still too improbable for it to be happening. I mean, what are the chances that I would be catching a Saturday matinee showing of Matilda with a Beatle?

And it finally dawned on me, HOLY SHIT, IT'S PAUL MCCARTNEY. I'm from LA, and it's not unusual to spot celebrities in random places. I've seen Jack Nicholson opening doors for confused shoppers at Nordstrom, and Dog the Bounty Hunter sauntering through the Grove with his wife in tow. But this wasn't any celebrity sighting - this was THE celebrity sighting. I love love love the Beatles. I grew up loving them since I was in the fourth grade, and they were so amazing that I could never grasp that these were real live talking and walking people who existed in the same world as me.

Anyway, I managed to pull my eyes away from him long enough to enjoy the musical. It was a wonderful show, but the best bit was Miss Trunchbull, the terrifying headmistress of the school. It's a very masculine woman's role, but it was played to perfection by a man who flounced and pranced better than I ever could. I really couldn't imagine anyone playing that role any better - he completely stole the show.

The two hours or so sped by, and pretty soon we were on our way out when I noticed that Paul McCartney was walking down the stairs right in front of me. I was so close that I could've reached out and ruffled his very thick head of hair. My arm started to reach out, as if it had a mind of its own, when J grabbed me and told me he had to visit the men's room. Foiled and thwarted!

As disappointed as I was that I didn't manage to grab Paul McCartney and get tackled by his security team, I managed not to cry. J tried to console me with a good wander through Covent Garden, and I was sufficiently recovered by the time we met our friends at Christopher's for dinner.

Christopher's is a neo-American restaurant close to the Strand, and the four of us spent a good three hours eating and chatting. It was good times, and the food was excellent but with one big caveat. The boys ordered from the a la carte menu, while us girls ordered off the pre/post theatre menu, and the food ordered from the a la carte menu was vastly superior. Other than that, the service was excellent, and the setting was like a proper American steakhouse without being stuffy. And we each got a chocolate truffle after our dessert. Definitely worth a trip or two back.

A Picture a Day

It's my last Friday off before I go back to work, and I've got a long list of things to do. I've already got a load of laundry in the washer, and I'm due to go for a run any time now (curious as to whether this will actually happen).

I've really been trying to focus on improving my photography, so I've been studying from lots of books and working on my Adobe Lightroom skills. Anyway, I suppose you only get better at something with lots and lots of practice (per my piano teacher and Malcolm Gladwell), so I thought I'd try to take a picture at least every other day.

I noticed this morning that one of my tulips was dying, and I thought I'd pluck it out and take a picture of it before it went into the bin. Tulips are unapologetically cheerful flowers, so I thought a darker take on them might be interesting and different.

With that taken care of, off for my run!

The Winter Blues

I've been a bad blogger (both my mom and my MIL have told me so), and I know it.

It's just that the weather has been so darn cold that it's been incredibly difficult to get motivated to do anything other than turn on the radiator, curl up on the couch with a blanket, and eat everything in the flat.

My fitness regime was ticking along fine until the cold snap hit in late January. Winter had been really mild up until then, and the first snowfall didn't arrive until a little more than a week ago. But then it got butt-ass cold! I usually run outside, and I normally have to wear three pairs of gloves during the cold weather. That's right - three!

It got so cold that I had to add a fourth pair of gloves, and my fingers were still frozen by the end of my run. It's been so bad that I've had to run warm water over them to get them to start moving again. Faced with the prospect of adding a fifth pair of gloves, I decided to call it quits until the weather warmed up a bit.

Other than that, life has been pretty mundane. We had a houseguest visit us in mid January, and he tagged along on our visit to Canary Wharf during the ice-carving festival, which was pretty cool.

I suspect the guys didn't mind waiting for me as I walked around with my camera since they found something a bit more interesting.... Raclette cheese! I just noticed that they were both dressed like the Una-bomber.

Since then, it's been pretty quiet other than going back to my old job for a week to help them wrap things up. I've had a lot of time on my hands, and I'm not much one for just sitting around so I've used that time to decorate our flat, which had been looking pretty sparse all this time.

I worked on some art stuff to hang on our bare walls. It's a cut-out map of central London over a Union Jack flag. I've got big plans to do one for Los Angeles once my blister from the Xacto knife has healed.

I also bought a mirror to hang over our mantle. It's a bit more gold than I thought it would be, but that's what online shopping gets you. I'm waiting to see if it grows on me. If not, I bought some sanding paper and masking tape in case I need to repaint.

I think just a few more things around the flat should finish it off nicely.

I suppose it's just in the nick of time I've finished my home improvement efforts since it looks like things are ramping back up again. I've got a new contract starting on Monday that's meant to last for 4-6 weeks. I'm also planning a backpacking trip to Asia with one of my US friends, and I really need to build up my fitness so that I can hike in high altitudes with a large pack strapped to my back. I've also organized a large drinks thing for one of my close English friends, and she's also having a party at her house. J just surprised me with tickets to see Matilda in March. Whew! When it rains, it pours.

The Sunday After

J and I were pretty tired when we woke up the next morning, but we got our things together and checked out of the hotel. We knew our other friend was staying at the same hotel, and we asked the front desk about him to make sure he got in all right the previous night. I had received a strange text from him a bit earlier saying that he was massively hungover and that his debit card had been stolen the previous night.

The man at the front desk reported with a small chuckle that our friend hadn't checked out yet and had called downstairs for some milk. We weren't quite sure what to do so we headed over to Patka's flat and while we discussed what we ought to do, the man in question arrived.

He actually looked a lot better than I expected, and we managed to convince him to grab brunch with us. Our friend recovered sufficiently to tell us exactly what happened to him the previous night as we scarfed down our eggs and brioche as he sipped delicately from a Sprite.


He and another guy had decided that kebabs were in order after the club, and they were short a few euro so he made off to the nearest cash machine. On his way there, he spied a wine shop and decided to pop in for some drinks to go with their kebabs. Apparently, some Frenchman chatted him up and started hugging him while hollering "Americano!" and my friend pushed him away. He patted his pockets immediately after and noticed his wallet was missing. He grabbed the Frenchman and threatened to call the police when the Frenchman pointed at the floor. Lo and behold, there was his wallet. He considered it a close call until he noticed that his debit card was missing.

The whole time, our other friend is waiting at the kebab shop holding two giant kebabs up and wondering where in the world he's gone off to and how he's going to pay for the kebabs.

Anyway, we enjoyed the story immensely since no real harm was done and it went down well with our food. We wrapped up our morning with a stroll around the farmer's market that was across the street from the restaurant and then started the long walk back home. In London, most shops are open on Sunday even though they do close early, but in Paris, everything was completely shut and the streets were relatively empty.

We chilled out at Patka's flat, sharing some of our favorite music videos and miscellaneous video clips until it was time for us to leave to catch the Eurostar back home.

I'll miss Patka tons, but the engagement and move is a wonderful thing for her, and I can't wait to visit her in Singapore for her wedding. But until then...

A Farewell in Paris

The last time I saw my friend Patka, it was at her leaving party in London. She had found a fantastic job in Paris, and although we would miss her, we reasoned that Paris was only a few hours away by train. Fast forward ten months, and then she called to drop a bomb - she had gotten engaged and was moving to Singapore!

A bunch of us scrambled to get our Eurostar tickets in order to visit her before she left, and pretty soon, we were all gathered together at Gare du Nord in Paris. I had convinced J to come with me, and we decided to stay at the Best Western Les Theatres in the 2nd arrondisement, which was really cheap and literally right next door to Patka's flat.

Anyway, we were all starving and headed out on the town to hunt down some lunch after dropping off our things. Patka said that it was a surprise, and we just got hungrier and hungrier as our "five minute" walk stretched out to something more like thirty minutes. Finally, we were at Angelina, an upscale restaurant right by the Louvre, and she had brought us here because she promised that they had the best hot chocolate ever. Most of us had a croque madame (a cheese and ham sandwich with an egg on top), and the hot chocolate was to die for. It came in a little jug with a dish of whipped cream on the side, and you got to pour the hot chocolate into your cup and saucer. Seriously, the best hot chocolate ever.

Some of us had arrived the previous night and had a bit too much fun, and the rest of us were pretty tired from waking up early to catch our train so we all decided to take a nap before we went out for dinner. But on our walk back home, we came across a meat shop, and the two guys decided that they needed to buy a whole chicken to snack on before dinner. Did I mention this was on the walk home from lunch?! Boys will be boys. =)

We headed over to Patka's flat to toast her engagement with the champagne we had brought, and then we all piled into two taxis to Chez Janou. As Patka had promised, the food was excellent and reasonably priced with entrees ranging from 15-20 euros. But the service? Let's just say that it's was a very French restaurant. Anyway, it was a fun group of people - around 12 of us from pretty much all over, including the US, England, Poland, Germany, Belgium and a few Parisians thrown in for good measure. I would totally recommend eating at Chez Janou, but be warned that the staff is not the politest and they don't speak any English. They also have this amazing all-you-can-eat chocolate mousse that is ludicrously decadent.

Oh, and a totally random thing happened. An older gentleman had overheard my accent and asked me where I was from and we figured out that we had gone to the same high school in Cupertino, California. What are the chances?! Anyway, he's an American who had been living in Burgundy for the last twelve years, and we exchanged information in case he ever came over to London or in case I was ever in the south of France. =)

After we ate more than our fill, we walked to Barrio Latino to dance the night away. We all paid 20 euro for our cover charge and that also included one drink. The venue was huge (4-5 floors) and the music was Latino but changed to hip hop much later in the evening. Patka warned us to keep an eye on our belongings since pickpocketing was pretty common, and her phone had been stolen the previous week. The dance floor began to fill up and we decided to leave after it got a bit too close for comfort.

Getting our things from the cloakroom was an absolute nightmare since no one was queuing except for us. We nearly got into it with a short African guy, but I still managed to get our things before he did. Hooray! We left the club, some of us worse for the wear, and we all piled into taxis that took us  home. J and I hit the sack, and I received a couple of amusing text messages of people having lost other people, but I figured I'd hear the story the next day.