May 24 - Regent's Park

Preface to my Readers:
I apologize for delay in updating my blog which has so many fans. I have been busy with work, touring England, taking in the local fare and drink, but I have been keeping everything written down in my pocket journal, so when the time comes, as it is now, I will begin updating as much as I can to catch back up to the current date. Also, I am updating on a day that is about 70 degrees and not a cloud in sight. I do so, not because I have become accustomed to seeking dark and damp areas as many Londoners seem to do, but I have made a very close friend of mine, THE Kaleb Jeffries, very upset that I do not update as often as I originally promised. As we all know, Kaleb is somewhat of a literary connoisseur and enjoys reading everything and anything on which he can set his eyes. Because he spends days and nights awaiting new postings on my blog, I have caused him much mental and emotional pain, and for that I am sorry, I will do my best to make my blog current. Kaleb, if you are still reading this, in my defense, I have been doing a lot of drinking. I hope you forgive me.

Sunday, May 24 - Picnic at Regent's Park

On Sunday morning, I met up at Emily, Rich and Craig's flat and we packed up our picnic belongings - Rich's picnic belongings included a very manly backpack that transformed into a posh picnic bag that unfolded to reveal a full set of wine glasses, a bottle of wine, select cheeses and crackers and anything else his boyfriend could have packed for him. I kept to my Westside roots and carried a few sandwiches and fruit in a plastic shopping sack. We met up with Adam and Becky as they walked down the street and we rushed to catch the right bus. Emily was surprisingly fast, even out-sprinting Rich as he clutched to his picnic purse.

On the way to Regent's, we passed through the famous Abbey Road intersection and I had my first glimpse of the Studio over the fence. I made a mental note as I stared in amazement and plans began to come together as to when and how I was going to recreate the famous Abbey Road album crosswalk photo. More of that will come in a few days.

Regent's Park is a 400 acre park similar to Central Park - including its own zoo, a rose garden, small ponds and streams and grass fields that stretch out far beyond the eye can see. Games of soccer, rugby, Frisbee and even volleyball were going all around us. The day was perfect - about 72 degrees, sunny, no clouds in the sky and a slight breeze blowing through the park. We spotted the perfect place to throw down our blankets and began to unload our bags and set up our food and sat back to eat, relax and take in the sites, and beautiful weather. Emily had brought a couple of softball gloves, so everyone took their turns throwing the ball back and forth and by the end of playing throw and catch, Adam's glove hand looked as if he had been sorting through coal for a week.

After a while, Rich and Adam broke out the Rugby ball and decided to have their own fun in teaching me how to throw it. Like a kid wearing two casts on his hands, I managed to fumble around the ball long enough to get the hang of it, even though I still was horrible, they made me feel better about myself by telling me I was "doing it just right," yet I know they were just lying. As I mentioned in my previous post as I described Adam, he finds any time appropriate to take off his shirt in public and after 20 minutes of throwing around the "Footie" (Yes, it does sounds quite gay, but who is going to argue with a rugby player about the semantics of their beloved leather, oblong ball?), Adam decided his body temperature was just about the right level to shed his shirt, forcing Rich and myself to follow suit because we were actually sweating profusely.

We now officially looked like three tools with their shirts off in the park, throwing around the rugby ball, but the sun was out, we were getting our tans on in London which is unheard of, and I was kind of starting to get better at throwing the ball back and forth. The two pros decided then to make me run 'routes' with them which just further showed them why I was not playing rugby any time soon. As awkward as John Water's handwriting, I was just trying to keep up with every toss or route they told me to run. For them, I'm sure it was good fun, but for me, my athletic ego was taking quite a hit. We stayed in the park, laying out and going for a bird-watching walk in the Rose Garden, and then headed back to their flat around 5 to get the grand BBQ fired up again for what turned out to be a huge party of Aussies and Brits and one Yankee.

The flat was packed full of rugby players and teachers with accents from England and Australia, and the BBQ was loaded full of everything from bangers to kebabs to steaks and chicken wings (which were accidentally undercooked and no one would touch after the news spread). After drinking, eating and talking with everyone at the party, telling man stories in the kitchen and chastising Rich for not getting the "good cheese," games of charades broke out as did the PS3 and we all sat around playing Quiz Show, intensely.

By the time the party ended and everyone had left, it was too late to catch the Tube, so Craig and Rich helped me spread out a pad on the couch and I crashed in their living room until the sun woke me up a few hours later. I have been here for three days and I've met and made friends with more people I thought would happen over the course of the entire summer.

Big Ben, Parliament, Westminster Abbey and Buckingham Palace and Square

I know that this set of pictures is out of sync with my postings, but it was such a beautiful day on Sunday that I wanted to share these with everyone. I tried sending them out through email, but the size of pictures my awesome camera takes, I received about 20 bounce-back emails, so enjoy them from here!!

Chapters 2 & 3 - Adjusting

Chapter 2 – The Flat and Flatmates

May 22

Early my first morning, the entire flat was woken up to shouting and slamming doors at the early hour of 4a. Living in Pikes, I am used to this, but it has been some time since. I currently live with two German girls, Lara and Leone (21), a guy from Spain, Ricardo (27), a guy from Kasikstan, Yulan (24), and another guy from Italy, Luca (26). The three males are studying English for the time here in London at various Universities and Lara and Leone are participating in a marketing internship with two firms here in London – sent by their publishing house in Hamburg to “hone in on their English marketing tactics” (In reality, from what we have gathered over the past couple of weeks, the majority of their work involves licking stamps and carrying files from cube to cube).

The shouting match erupted at 4a due to a lack of communication between Luca and Yulan, who share a large room together. Yulan brought a friend home from the bars and allowed him to sleep on their couch, which anywhere else would be completely acceptable since Yulan pays rent to have access to the couch as well, but apparently not here. Luca woke up and saw an unfamiliar person in his room and ‘panicked' (literally his words the next day). In his panic, he abruptly woke up, began shouting at Yulan, slamming doors, the whole Eric Sallee show. After the whole ruckus finally simmered down (or "PIPED DOWN!!!") to a nice peaceful rest of the evening, the sun had already risen. During the summer months, the sun will rise at around 4:30a and set around 9:45p, and I am sure to make other comments about this ‘phenomenon’ as the summer progresses and my days begin to last longer and longer, hiding my eyes with a pillow.

After I finally went back to sleep, I slept until about noon, still suffering from jetlag and could have definitely put in a couple more hours but was woken up by my landlord to sign the 'rent agreement' (a joke of an Agreement if you ask me) and deliver my wardrobe and desk to my bedroom. As soon as I could get her to leave again, I began organizing my room; setting away my suits and shirts and finding places for all of my clothes to fit neatly for the time being. As of little surprise to my readers, still to this day, my luggage is laying in the middle of my floor. I don’t have as much space as I would like and still have yet to find a place to organize my ties; that is key to daily dressings (as the Reed will agree) and organizing the perfect attire, but I will have to find a new technique in choosing the perfect tie for the day.

I came to the UK without any towels, which simply meant, I had not taken a shower since leaving New York and needed one desperately. Before Lara and her boyfriend, Joey, left for the day, I borrowed a hand towel to make due and washed up. I am still trying to figure out the temperature control on the shower, but maybe by July, I will have the technique perfected. Until that time, I will probably just scald my skin or freeze unless I can figure out the correct turning of the knobs that everyone else has already mastered. (Updated Note 6/11/09: I have finally figured out how to get the perfect temperature)

Once I was refreshed, I got ahold of my contact here in London, Emily. I was put in contact with Emily through a colleague at the House and she has been living here for about two years teaching middle school. Emily had been my biggest help in preparation to coming to London and has been an immense help in adapting to London culture and making new friends and ultimately feeling welcome in a new country. I told her that I needed to get some towels and pillows for cheap (emphasis added). She directed me down to Primark which resembles H&K in New York, Chicago and other major cities. Primark has a lot of Walmart-priced goods for clothing and housewares, but with the Target or Macy's feel, placed in the middle of Times Square during the last taping of Total Request Live with Carson Daly (TRL for my generation). This particular Primark is in the heart of Oxford Circus, which is the equivalent to Fifth Avenue in New York or Michigan Avenue near Macy’s in Chicago. Bustling with tourists and school groups, I made my way to Primark which was even busier, but the inventory and prices were exactly what I had been looking for. I quickly grabbed some towels and pillows and some cheap t-shirts and quickly made my way to the LONG queue (‘queue’ is what everyone calls a standing line here; i.e. ‘How long is the queue to the bathroom?”).

After finally managing my way back through the crowds to the Bond Street Tube Station, I ended up at King’s Cross Station, took the walk through St. Pancras Int’l and was soon home again (Aside: the Underground Tube, much like the aforementioned subway, is pronounced ‘Chube,’ not to be confused with the correct way to pronounce a ‘T’ as Tube. Throughout these blogs, I am hoping to provide some inflection of the English language over here, to give my readers the full effect of what I hear on a daily basis).

By the time I arrived home the time was near 8p and all of my flatmates were staying in that evening to play card games and bond. The evening came around and time flew by as we made fun of one another’s cultures, accents, reminded Yulan many times that he comes from the country made famous by Borat (of whom he hates for that exact reason) and got to know each other and discovered the meaning of life. I still need to tell my two German flatmates that they will be calling John and leaving him a voicemail late one night of German Christmas Carols or ‘My Three-Cornered Hat,’ engrained by the education of Helfrich Park German requirements.

Chapter 3 – The Walkie, Lordie, Emskie, Powelly, Craigy and the Bahbie

May 23

Still suffering from jetlag (and a hangover from the night before does not help the situation), I managed to arise from slumber around 1230 or 1 and caught up with the messages on my phone. Emily had tried to contact me to see if I wanted to meet up with her, flatmate Richard Lord (“Lordie”) and their other close friend Adam Powell (“Powly”) at an Australian bar named The Walkabout aka “The Walkie.” To keep my initiation into British culture in full swing, without hesitation, I jumped into the shower and headed out to the Metro Line to Finchley Road where I met up with the group: Rich, a 6’3” rugby player from Perth, Australia; Adam, a South African who also plays rugby and conveniently finds any time suitable to remove his shirt and “sport his guns,” and shares a striking resemblance to Gordon Ramsey; and Emily, a cheery Midwestern girl from Cincinnati who plays mother to the group of overgrown boys.

After meeting up with the three, we headed to the Walkie, Rich bought a round of Snake Bites (a mix of Strongbow cider, another beer I think and an ‘S’ written with grenadine on the foam head), and we found our seats to watch what became my first ever rugby match – the Heineken Cup. Sitting next to Rich and Adam, I was given the rules and instructions on the game of rugby throughout the match. After hearing good things from Evan, I ordered a Kangaroo burger which of course came with ‘chips’ aka – French fries. Being Emily’s birthday, we hailed ‘cheers’ a few more rounds of Snake Bites and headed off to the local grocery to buy a few steaks for that evening’s low-key bbq. Being somewhat of a glutton for meat, Adam decided to buy a “10 pound steak,” (in value, not weight). In order to chalk up a bill that high for a piece of beef, the cut was fairly weighty and Adam proceeded to make everyone “feel how heavy my meat is…” Inappropriate.

We returned to their flat and had a very manly task ahead of us – assembling the newly-purchased bar-b-que. As the masculine trio we are, we hauled the box into the lift and dragged it into the flat and tore into the disassembled pieces like excited children on Christmas morning (or Evan when he got his play kitchen. Yep, a play kitchen. On the similar note, in my next blog, I will be writing the steps to raising a gay son whereupon first on my list will be buying him a play kitchen when he is 3 years old)

The three of us, with tools in hand began assembling the ‘man grill’ in the living room in about 22 minutes flat and it became a product of beauty; beauty equals bar-b-ques all summer long. We wheeled it down the hall and somehow managed to squeeze inside the lift, rolled it out to the courtyard in the back and sparked up the coals. The three of us stood around, silent, pride emanated as we watched what started in a cardboard box, come together to stand perfectly and as a sturdy iron masterpiece with hot coals burning, cracking and spreading the spirit of summer throughout the backyard. We stood around, drinking a few beers and chatting about the weekend ahead while Rich carefully watched the meat on the grill. As the last flip of the final steak was turned, Craig returned from his Cricket match (just in time to eat, mind you), and we all headed upstairs to be presented with a spread of crackers, gourmet cheeses, red wine, salad and our selection of steaks.

While we ate dinner, Craig popped in the Quantum of Solace DVD, which we continued to watch while our food settled and sank into a coma of relaxation. This was my second full day in London and within my first encounter with Emily, Rich, Adam and Craig, I was greeted into a close-knit friendship from the very beginning, feeling as if I had been friends with this group for much more than just an afternoon. I was soon to find out that this group of friends would take me under their wings immediately, becoming close mates of mine, with whom I talk to on a daily basis and for their amazing friendships, I am very, very grateful.