The Market Price of Rubbies has plummeted

The Kaiser Chiefs were sure to be a cool authentic brit boy band - rock band, of course, none of this mushy ballad stuff. We saw their poster in numerous tube stops. While in O'Neill's, a song came on and everyone started to sing along. "Ruby Ruby Ruby Ruby!"
"Who is this?" we ask our new friend, James (who cannot believe he is standing in the presence of 2 american, christian, republicans - he is so in awe he cannot stop bringing up politics despite S reminding him it is rude).
"It's the Kaiser Chiefs!"
The KC were played in between The Killers and Keane, everyone singing along...I conclude they must be a rocking band.
While on Regent Street on St. Patrick's Day, we stop in HMV, the music store. We stroll through the aisles and see KC on display. We attempt to listen to their cd, but the machine seems to be broken. "This will be a fun souvenir!" Despite the fact that music is always so expensive in Europe and particularly the dollar is so weak, we decide we will both purchase this cd we are bound to love. Then we will be not only be world wide travelers, but savvy music scouts, on the cutting edge. I think, once converted, this gem was $22.00. "As long as I never see it on sale at Target for, like, $9.99. Ha ha."
Once home, we have both torn through the packaging and listened to the music long enough to acknowledge not the best we've ever heard. I decide I'm fond of tracks 1,5,7 - still a fun memory, I imagine the tube posters and the sing along at the pub. "Ruby, Ruby, Ruby" is a catchy tune. S and I sing it out at various times while waiting for our photos to print out.
Last night I get a voicemail from savvy music scout S. "You'll never believe what I saw in the Target ad today.... the Kaiser Chiefs cd is available at Target for a mere $7.99."

Mind the Gap

I have returned from my travels. Came back late Wednesday night with plans to sleep in and then go in to work for a bit. I woke up at 8:00 am and couldn't go back to sleep. I got out of bed and unpacked, then walked to work. Seemed asinine to drive to a place at a distance where this week prior I would've been relieved by the brevity of it. The sun was shining and I could hear the birds chirping. Silent almost. Tejon street felt incredibly vacant and quiet. There was a calm to it that I enjoyed after the hustle and bustle of London, but there was also a void of excitement, people, distractions and the unknown around the corner. Things felt better with a coffee and danish in my hand.

So here are some excerpts from my travel journal:
We travel to St Paul's Cathedral for evensong. We get there early enough to be invited to sit in the choir area and get an inside view of the beautiful mosaics. The service is moving - the men and boy's choirs sing Psalm 107- about how God continues to save his people from their distresses. I do a fine job of standing, kneeling and sitting when I am supposed to. The boys in the choir have white collars on their robes. I wonder what these angelic voices are like outside of this scene. Are their massive tryouts? Did their mothers prod them to be choir boys? Or did they desire it? Their voices echo through the cathedral...breathtaking.

First stop, Westminster tube stop. We cross the bridge and go to the London Eye (a ferris wheel with a bird's eye view of the city). The lines aren't bad and we get to ride in a capsule with just 6 other people. The views are beautiful and we take pictures. All was well until I realized I had lost my nose ring while blowing my nose! S and I looked around and eventually the kind passengers helped. So there we were on the ferris wheel with a beautiful view of the city hunched over, looking for a diamond I wear in my nose. I was so embarrassed. No luck - so sad. ( I do later fine it in my bag and am so delighted.) When we get off the wheel we can't resist the smell of fresh waffles and grab one, eat it on the way to Westminster. We arrive at Westminster too late...again. It seems I will only see the outside of this beautiful church. We decide it is time to eat and look for the pub we had our drinks at last night. After some wandering I am defeated and we settle for the Westminster Arms. We head to the cellar-like basement and order fish n' chips ~ it arrives with scales... not impressed but the beer helps it go down.

We stop at Pub and order Bailey's (in honor of St Pat's day). What we get is a shot of something (I suspect whiskey) with Bailey's on top ~ it goes down too smoothly. There is a man impressing his friends and a lady onlooker with his magic tricks. I am behind him and can see as he flips his magical metro card behind his fingers. His friend draws our attention to the talents of his mate. I admit I have seen the secret. He does another trick for us with a coin. As we ooh and ahh on our way out, S encourages him, "You've made our evening...magical."

It begins to rain, maybe snow, while we are inside. Fortunately, the sun come back out and we are able to stroll through the park (Kensington Gardens). We find the children's park and enter, despite the sign that advises adults without children are not permitted. A ship, ocean sounds, treehouse fortress - oh to be young with an imagination. Near the exit is an old oak tree with little toys in its crevices -gnomes, mice, little people. Fanciful. We pass the Round Pond and the clouds are rolling in. We get to the Albert Memorial - a huge statue. Gold. Blue sky. Clouds. We meet Steve and James, we take photos for each other. Another 2 from California. They tell us about a cool club near Piccadilly "maybe we'll see you there." Right. The first of rain and I pull out my green umbrella.

We are famished and decide to grab brunch across the street at Paul's bakery. We both get sandwiches, share a salad and an apple tart. Tart it is. We sit at the only table in the corner and watch as the business men and women come in and out for lunch. Many are couples. What a life, to pop out for lunch, down the cobblestone street to Paul's for a take-away brie sandwich. If I lived here, could I afford one of Paul's sandwiches?

Next stop: the United States Embassy. We almost miss the large American flag hanging from the top of the building. We walk through a small park - Roosevelt memorial. There is construction and I manage to choose the path to the employee entrance: rejection. Around to the otherside... to find a long line that does not move. We are outside for at least 1 hour - freezing! Snow was expected today. While I can be thankful there is no snow, I am sure it is cold enough to snow. Miserable. The security guard uses his position to chat it up with the ladies in line - bounceresque-like. We finally get inside. Wait in line and explain our anti-climatic story and are directed to fill out paperwork.
Name: /Address: /Employer: /What happened to your passport?: Oh yes, this again. Um, they were just gone. /Parent's birthdates: /Parent's birthplaces
S and I get into giggles as we admit that we are rusty on some of our vitals. We are sure we will get the kabash on a shiny new passport. Perhaps they'll pull the alarm: Impostors!
Next: photo shoot in passport photo booth. I get to take 3 pictures and none are worth keeping, by the way. We laugh and laugh. A girl comes up and asks accusingly, "Is this for fun or for passport photos?" Yeah, well, maybe both.

After dinner we order chai and thumb through the papers. Every M-F, beginning in the afternoon, workers stand outside the tube stations and beg you to take the paper. The London Lite and The London Paper have the latest star news, along with sports, other entertainment and news. During rush hours everyone is reading a paper and many leave theirs behind. Luke explains the calibre of journalism is terrible - he refuses to read them. I've grown to love the declarations of love only available in the The London paper: Gorgeous travel advisor at St Pancras station. There are only so many tickets a man can buy. I want to take that gorgeous smile for a drink. ~ To the girl in the purple coat with the beautiful dark almond-shaped eyes and long dark hair, who sat opposite me on the Tube from Wood Green to Leicester Square on 17 February. You were reading, but out eyes met once or twice and I wished I had said hello. Get in touch.

London Bridge Falling Down

Thought I'd write something quick. Currently sitting at an internet cafe, which is a strange way to spend time in a foreign country - with new things around every corner. We are here, however, because.... we have lost (or were they stolen) our passports. There are, indeed, signs everywhere warning of such dangers - but you never really think it will happen to you... like dysentery. Sometime between one beer or the next at the "Nags Head" pub they were missing. This morning was the struggle to figure out where to begin the process - then to the scene of the crime, then to the police station to file a report and now to the U.S. Embassy.... it's a shame, as we had plans to see the British Museum and have tea this afternoon.
Aside from today's drama, we've been keeping busy seeing this and that - although we have a terrible habit of making to our destination just as it is closing. So much to be distracted by here. People watching is plentiful and I find my brain constantly working at reading signs and analyzing style, language, sights - almost stimulation overload. There are so many people here - that, I love. Today I was on a "lift" leaving the Covent Garden tube station and we (all strangers) were packed so tightly - it got me thinking about space boundaries and how long I've been living with no touch/physical invasion unless invited.
Anyway, so many other things I've noticed....but I've got some political business to take care of.

iLike

My mother gave me an iPod for Christmas. She won it from a drawing (I think) at On The Border. It is a shuffle, kind of small and simple. A generous gift that I knew I would enjoy. The hurdle was getting music onto it. We have an archaic laptop at home, it does most jobs, but has old software. My iPod required a visit to mom and dad's and the request to download the program on their computer and the expectation that anytime I want more or different music I will be calling on them. The process took awhile. Download the program. Figure out how to use it. Figure what songs were worthy of a purchase. It was quite an ordeal and a few hours of my life. I practiced extreme self-control and only bought 3 songs to download - the rest from cds I own.

My purchased playlist:

Maneater by Nelly Fertado

I See You Baby by Groove Armada

Would You Go with Me by Josh Turner

I love my iPod. I totally take back all those things I said about it being an expensive exscuse for a walkman. And let me tell you, there is nothing like climbing on to a treadmill and jogging to "I See You Baby." So much fun! Sure, I'll go another 4 minutes - can't stop in the middle of this number. I stepped outside for some fresh air on my lunch break yesterday and thought I'd listen to some of my tunes. I'm sure there was a hop in my step - okay, a strut, "Maneater, make you work hard, Make you spend hard, Make you want all, all of her love..."

It is the ultimate in having a soundtrack of my life.

I've got to figure out how not to sing/hum/grunt along with the music. I definitely don't want to be THAT chick.

Con-sole-lation

I am preparing for my big trip to London. I get so excited to travel. It is great to go to a place where I don't know where anything is. Despite the work, and at times confusion, there is a great sense of accomplishment in finding your hotel room, that restaurant you heard about, or the museum on the list of to-dos. It is so different from life here, in Colorado Springs, where my biggest challenge is remembering the difference between Stetson Hills and Barnes and all of the cul-de-sacs beyond the Powers boundary.
Today my travel partner and I met over coffee and did some trip planning. Afterward, we headed to DSW the "shoe warehouse." The shoe store with literally hundreds of shoes. First stop, clearance rack... I find a pair of lime green shoes, and while they're comfortable I know their uniqueness will wear out sooner than their soles. I search through trendy tennis shoesish styles...I try some on. I am wearing the wrong socks. Maybe my toes have gotten fat or swollen. My ankles are tiny and won't keep the darned things on. It is a fruitless search. There is something disturbing about sitting in a shoe warehouse, surrounded with aisles of footwear and coming to the conclusion, " I have nothing to work with here!" I have 11 days to find a trendy pair of comfortable, flat-foot-supporting, ideally black walking shoes. Oh the pressure.
Which leads me to the wardrobe I need to be the perfect hip traveler, and accessories, and a bag, and hat and what-if-the-sun-shines-sunglasses... and...
I keep reminding myself that money I spend here in preparation is money I will not have when I am there. It is little consolation.