From Tourist to Lazy

I have been so caught up with the good life that I haven’t been writing as frequently, sorry for people who check on a regular basis. I will try to step my game up and give you an overall update.

One thing I have noticed is my level of commitment to exploring and touring around has plummeted and I have begun to develop the I-live-here-now-and-don’t-need-to-see-THAT-place/thing/area-yet-as-I-can-go-any-other-time mentality. In previous months, every weekend I would explore another place/area of England, but recently I have begun to work over the weekends or binge drink (another part of becoming a local). I have made a mental note to not be such a lazy-ass anymore and get out of this rut. Operation Museum will begin this Saturday as I plan to continue to work my way through the labyrinth that is the Victoria and Albert Museum.

NOTE ON VICTORIA AND ALBERT MUSEUM:

1. I love museums
2. I love museums that provide you with free maps
3. I love ticking off rooms I have been in, especially when said museum map is over four pages long
4. The V & A will take approximately two more days for me to cover it all

Simple things that make British life exciting, especially when commuting, also known as Game 1 and 2:

1.     Often train times are posted on these huge electronic boards but the platforms aren’t posted until the last minute so they have time to “prepare” the train. Not sure what this entails as it is not the Polar Express and no golden tickets need to be handed out or collecting of poor kids from the wrong side of the tracks. Anyway, they never post the platform until minutes before the train is set to leave. I take this as a personal challenge, which means I have perfected the act of waiting down to an art. It involves me reading all other platforms as to rule out which platforms will not be suddenly tacked onto my board.  Then edging my body through the masses of people/luggage toward the most likely platform, while still being able to read the electronic sign. This is also a very delicate process, as I have managed to stand as far back as possible that if I squint just right, I can make out the platform when it flashes up. Also, when I say  “masses of people” I am not lying; as the departure time nears, swarms of people gather around this tiny sign to all wait for the platform. When it does finally pop up, people flood the gates like War of the Worlds, so I ensure I am carrying my bags in such a way that I can use my elbows in the most effective manner. As lame as this all sounds, it is the best game and anyone who has ever played a game with me knows I always win. If I don’t win, there is hell to pay. Monday was such a day, when I badly miscalculated which platform I thought my train would depart from, so I had aligned myself next to platform seven. Poor choice. I was so far away from the signs that I had to really squint to see when the bright orange glow flashed up. To my horror, platform 1 came up and I set off tearing through the crowds. I knocked over several small children and one man with a cane before I was brought down with a wheelie bag. Pain and fury coursed through me. I stood on the train that day. Few people are alive to retell the tale.

NOTE TO ALL WHEELIE BAG OWNERS: Your bag is not another person, and any normal human who walks with their head up aka not the Hunchback of Notre Dame or my mother (not likening her to the hunchback but she does walk watching her feet and has yet to ever step in dog/goose poop, so win for mom.) will not see your tiny bag if you let it drag miles behind you. Often I see the person but they have let their bag droop so low that it is two people-lengths behind them and has formed what I like to call a “train-trap” as this most happens when people carry their luggage to the train. It is more deadly than animal traps as it not only hurts when you stumble over said trap/bag, but it brings about a form of social humiliation as your body not only impacts with the unexpected bag, but you can’t catch your balance so you teeter over the bag while the carrier gets spaghetti arms trying to right the bag, and you end up having to place your arms down on the luggage to regain your footing. Both parties involved are mortified because it is five minute social connection you share with a stranger and both are in the wrong (I insist the carrier is more in the wrong though and therefore should be punched).

2.     Predicting where the doors of the train will stop on the platform. Unlike at Paddington (the above scenario), Reading lets you know the platforms well in advance, which means groups of people are waiting on the platform for the train to pull up and collect us in the wee hours of the morn. This game is better than Russian Roulette and almost as deadly/loaded. If you guess wrong and stand in between two sets of doors, you will end up standing for the whole journey. If you guess right, you not only get to sit down, but you get the personal glory of knowing you won and watch all the losers stand in the aisle beside you. Again, I almost never lose and only when my Canadian side comes do I end up standing. You must be even firmer than the previous game and stakes are certainly higher. If you did happen to guess wrong, you can only hope to jump in front of other people who guessed correctly and pretend you didn’t see them in line whilst you fiddle with your ipod/blackberry. I used to think this was awkward, but after standing for 35 minutes on a train, then standing another 30 minutes on the tube, then walking to work, then spending an entire day in a nursery class, then doing it all over again to travel home, I will kill a man for a seat on the train…and I have.

Other than that, nursery is a laugh, especially with the weather warming up. Dance parties fill my days and we are learning all about bugs in the springtime. Yesterday, my TAs and I went to the pet store and got two crickets for the children to observe over the next few weeks and I read the Very Quiet Cricket by Eric Carle. I am pumped to have live bugs in the class (we also have lady bugs in those pet aquariums) but I am not excited for the children to inevitably find a way to open the containers and set free the minibeasts in the class. We should take bets on how soon that will happen.

Anyway, vair tired Sousa out.