for our first two nights in london, we have been staying at a hotel right near heathrow. it takes an hour to tube into the city, which means we leave in the morning and get back late at night: no breaks to change our clothes, grab a different pair of shoes, rest for a minute or grab a jacket. nothing. that means i’ve been packing a backpack. with a leather jacket for when it gets cold, with my 5d mark 2 and an extra lens, with my iphone and headphones for the tube, with a sudoku book and a pen [for the tube, again] and my wallet and glasses. it’s a lot of stuff. i have to stifle my pride when i am in the city: there are way too many stylish women walking around in beautiful shoes and gorgeous bags. i want to be them. i, however, decided to wear nikes yesterday. yes, with my skinny jeans and my backpack. it was a really hot look.
i had this great plan to not photograph myself below the ankles. my mother, however, loves her iphone and any sign that screams FREE WI-FI HERE. this means that the whole world receives play-by-play updates of where we are and what we are wearing via twitter and facebook. i failed to mention this no-below-ankle-photography rule. all her facebook friends [and consequently mine, through the glory of “tagged photos”] are now able to enjoy some snapshots of my bright white runners. she says, you’re welcome. i say, thanks for nothing, lois.
yesterday’s highlights included watching this cute little man attempting to sprint up an escalator that was moving down… everybody at the bottom stood and watched him as he attempted to push past everybody coming down. he had a really heavy duffel bag as well. he tried for a good sixty seconds. then gave up and walked onto the tube and sat down. okay. another highlight. the tube home after sunset last night, a girl was blasting avril lavigne on her ipod so the entire train could hear. [i left canada to get away from avril for a few weeks and you bring her to me!?] the best part was that she was singing a song with terrible lyrics. she muttered under her british breath, you know that i’m a crazy bitch, i do what i want when i feel like it.
here’s a tip. maybe you should stop doing what you want when you feel like it. might make you a little more popular with the london commuters.