Computer fasting

Today, other than this blog post and some emails to which I've already responded, I'm staying off the computer. Because here I am, with entire days stretching at my fingertips, and I'm spending them all here. Which is pretty lame, because there's so much to do in this city, every day and every minute. And spending hours on this computer makes my world view very small. It's one thing if you're on your computer all day for work; it's another thing entirely when you're on it all day for fun.

So if you email me and don't hear back, it's because I'm on vacation. Over here, on the couch, with my book and my tea and a guidebook of London, which I may apply toward an activity...or I may not. After all, that's the beauty of leisure time. You can do as much or as little as you like...

* brewing kettle * * settling in *

You. Tell me what to name my next blog.

I just had a load of pancakes for breakfast. I don't know what I was thinking. It's ten a.m., and all I can think about is taking a nap.

I'm getting progressively ready for my soon-coming Great American Road Trip. I've checked out Bill Bryson's The Lost Continent from the library, and reading it so far I can say that I'm not only getting excited about all the bad diner food in my future, but I've also managed to strike through Mark Twain's house as a potential stopping point. So that feels pretty good. I'm also coming to the conclusion that the really Big Stuff, the national parks and whatnot, are all out west, which I will be hitting somewhere near...December or January. Peak season. So I've planned that well. Not that a little snow or 'closed' sign has ever stopped me before. But what I really want to see--just as much as giant crater lakes nestled inside of majestic mountain ranges--is rural American living at its finest. I want to go to church potlucks in Alabama and pumpkin festivals in North Carolina and see maple syrup being pulled in Vermont and eat a freshly caught lobster in Maine...you know, the good stuff. (That said, let me know if your church is having a potluck on the week I happen to be passing through. Because I will SO be there.)

It's just occurred to me that much of my to-do list appears to be centered around food. I wish I could say with a clear conscience that I was also interested in hiking and trekking, but...let's be honest.

It also just occurred to me that after two months of nothing but driving and eating (occasionally getting out of my car for a photograph or two), I will no doubt gain about twenty pounds. Awesome. By the time I get near the end of my journey, it will be like, 'Hey, where's the geyser in this picture?' 'I think it's somewhere behind Sharona's rear.' 'Is that a corn dog in her hand?' 'I think so.'

Naturally, I'll be shooting and blogging from the road so that you will (be forced to) feel like you are journeying with me. You will endure endless photos of New England in the Fall, you'll get to see what a highway in Illinois looks like, and you'll have to hear all about where I stopped for lunch. It will be GREAT. Plus I figure if I maintain my blog as I go, you'll know where to go search for my car if there are too many consecutive days of silence*.

But before I can hit the road, I once again need help coming up with my new blog name! The Great American Road Trip has already been taken (by someone who drove to ALASKA, so I begrudgingly admit he earned it), and so has On the Road, by some * hmph * who is totally wasting it. Especially since I would've loved to continue naming my blogs from Beat themes. I've also considered 'The American Road Trip,' but that's really just because I think it'd be funny to have a blog named TART, not because of any great affinity toward the name. So as you can tell, I'm not making it real far in this particular stage of the creative process. I need you. If you have any good road trip blog names up your sleeve, PLEASE let me know.

Also, any tips on the best road atlas to get?

*I will of course be ALIVE, just slightly dazed and confused. You are MORBID. But you should be forewarned that I am a TERRIBLE driver. Really appalling. I hit pretty much every stationary object I see, and the only reason I've never hit a car is because they're moving too fast. In fact, much of my blog may be spent lamenting the death of trees, mail boxes, light poles, or fences. You will probably be able to trace my path across America by the trail of destruction alone. Anybody who joins me for a leg of the journey, feel free to take the wheel, notably if you feel your life may be in danger. But rest assured that I probably won't kill you, just concuss you.

I'm going for it: Camden Passage pictures.

At the risk of my head imploding, I've decided to throw caution to the wind and post the pictures I took of Camden Passage last week. Please note that Camden Passage is the greatest antiques market EVER, even though sometimes the vendors are a-holes. Because then there are other vendors that are FUN, and that's just life.

The antiques market as an industry I find really interesting. On one hand, the antique shops here look nearly identical to the ones back home: dusty furniture, chipped tea cups, yellowed doilies, rusted tins. But on the other hand, antiques here can actually be OLD. I mean, you can buy brooches in this country that pre-date California, let alone pre-date Californian antiques.

Not that I'm an authority on the industry, because I'm really not. I don't really get how it works. I mean, can you find English antiques in America? Are there international antique shipping laws? Can you only buy American old stuff in America and English old stuff in England? You think I'd know more about this subject, having grown up in Jenks, Oklahoma (town motto: 'The Antique Capital of America'). (Seriously.) However, unlike Camden Passage, Main Street Jenks is primarily busied by old people shuffling from shop to shop, occasionally buying things, but probably more likely stealing them. Camden Passage is slightly more self-conscious, and busied by hipsters, collectors, and random weekend revelers who wander through on their way to brunch.

Ah, well. I don't go to antiques market to learn about antiques, I go to get ripped off.

And now for the photos! I would like to point out that none of the below displays have been altered to suit my photographic purposes. All chaos is naturally occurring.

Of course, not all of the antiques are necessarily ancient...I would venture to guess this fork dates as far back as the 70's.

This guy was awesome. He asked me if I'd send him the photos I took of him and when I said sure, proceeded to write down his snail mail address. He commented as he scribbled his post code, 'Everyone says they'll send me the photos they take, but they never do.'

Almost a post of Camden Passage photos.

Okay, this is probably the funniest thing I've seen all week. Though it is only Tuesday. I seriously cannot get enough of this cantankerous old man. Make sure you scroll to the bottom and click 'more,' because you do NOT want to miss his opinion of kale...

I'm currently trying to figure out how to post last week's pictures from Camden Market. Not from a technical standpoint, but from a mental standpoint. For some reason, I have a hard time posting photos too much longer after their taken-point. It's like they've lost their relevance or something. And since I was so busy last Saturday posting about Christopher Lambert to even touch them--and then of course I spent Sunday and Monday enjoying the bank holiday--these pictures now seem MONTHS old. And I feel like once I allow myself to post photos willy-nilly, then all order will be lost and the second law of thermodynamics becomes blog-applicable and OMIGOSH EVERYBODY PANIC! IT'S BLOG ANARCHY!!

I need to go clean my room. I can't handle this.

A quiet Saturday night, in which I turn into a prune

I was going to go to a movie tonight, but then I passed HMV and thought, 'Or I could BUY a movie for ten pounds and keep it forever!' So I did. Highlander was of course the obvious choice, given that one, I'd never seen it, two, I'll watch anything with Sean Connery in it, and three, I was once exclaimed at incredulously, 'You haven't seen Highlander?? Aren't you AMERICAN??', which I thought was an interesting thing to say about a movie dealing with a Scottish guy from the Highlands. Also, I've always fancied myself a bit of a undiscovered mystical warrior, just waiting for that moment in life when someone will approach me while I'm hustling at a pool hall in the middle of the Arizona desert and say, 'This is not for you. You are the Chosen One,' and then next thing you know, I'm wearing a tunic and being taught how to Fight With Integrity by a guy with a long ponytail in the heart of a Japenese forest.

Looking at the back of the box, I see that Sean's (yes, we're on a first name basis) character's name is 'Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez.' I mean, I don't want to be too hasty here in assuming that's a Latin name, but...Sean? Really?

Also according to the box, Villa-Lobos Ramirez (okay, for current peace of mind, I'm just going to have to assume that's just an old, lesser-known Scottish clan) is the one who teaches Highlander 'the ways of the sword.' I LOVE the expression 'the ways of.' It just REALLY pleases me for some reason. The ways of the sword. The ways of the sushi. The ways of the pedicure. Everything becomes an art form when you say it like that.

I'm going to watch the movie from a bubble bath, I think. I've long since discovered all movies are better from the perspective of a bathtub. Especially chick flicks (does Highlander count as a chick flick? How hot is this 'Christopher Lambert' guy? Even more notably, how hot was he in 1986 when I was five and this movie came out?). As for how it's possible to watch a movie from the bathtub without a flat screen installed in the opposite wall (complete with waterproof remote control), which I've JUST NOW REALIZED is my life's dream, right behind being discovered as the Chosen One, it's easy--just put your laptop on the toilet lid or the bathroom counter (make sure it's dry!) and watch it from there! Sure, putting expensive electronic equipment in the bathroom is a possible 'hazard', but as long as you aren't, say, dripping bubbles all over the keyboard when you want to turn up the volume, you're FINE. Trust me. I'm very experienced in the ways of the bath.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with Mr. Lambert and Señor Connery, who are anxious to get this show on the road...

Saturday, let's do it.

It's getting cooler here, even with the sun out. It feels like fall, though the trees haven't turned yet, and the sun's light is whiter and crisper than it was a shimmery yellow month ago.

I'm off to Angel by way of Camden passage, the best London antiques market ever. I should really photograph it; it's been on my list. I also need to drop some books at the library and run to The Waitrose and The Borders. And I may get my first London pedi EVER at this sweet new place on Cross Street. (Yes, it's taken me a year.) My favorite San Francisco pedi place had me too spoiled, I think, and gave me the ridiculous standard to which I hold all other salons. Then last, but not least, sushi for dinner from that yummy Japanese place on Essex Road whose name I can't remember because I always call it That Yummy Japanese Place on Essex Road. I hope the old man makes my rolls; he's generous with the innards. The girl always does a 3:1 rice:filling ratio, which just chaps my hide. If I WANTED a huge lump of sticky rice wrapped around a piece of fish the size of a pinhead, I'd make it myself. Alas, seeing her behind the bar won't really deter me: when I want unagi, I want unagi.

Time to hit the dusty (cobblestone) trail now...hay mucho para hacer.

Out with the new, in with the...new

I just heard 'My Sharona' on the radio. Please don't tell me it's experiencing a revival. Apparently there's also a commercial on t.v. that uses it, judging by the number of times I hear 'I heard your song on the t.v. last night! My son/daughter/husband/girlfriend wanted me to call you and tell you, but I thought you'd probably get tired of that!' No way, are you kidding me?

Now there's some manic pop song playing. I've got to turn this off.

That's better. Okay, so where was I? Nowhere? Good. Because I'm about to take you somewhere, and I didn't want to have to worry about proper transitions.

It turns out the student visa won't pan out before the course begins, so I won't be attending University here after all. I KNOW. Brutal. Because I was SO EXCITED about designing lamps and vases and being the next Jasper Morrison or Philip Starck. But now I have to wait an entire TEN MONTHS before I can show the world my genius. Do you what ten months is in my world? A LIFETIME. You can make a BABY in ten months. (Not me. You.)

In the meantime, I will have to return to Los Estados Unidos, mainly because if I don't, I would officially be living here illegally, which would DEFINITELY screw my next visa application. So I'm going to head back, keep my passport clean, and eventually try again in a few months.

On the bright side, the next great adventure is already in the works! More details coming soon...