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*click on the strips to see a larger, more readable version*
I’ve been reading a lot of Em cartoons lately.
It’s a comic strip that appears inconspicuously in a bottom corner of The London Paper. I never really paid attention, but over time, I realise that it’s the one section of the paper I actually look forward to reading it when I get my hands on a copy. These days, I usually read it online.
I find it highly amusing and very relatable, esp. for a 20-something living in a big city, esp. London, since it sometimes contain London-specific references (it’s published in The London Paper after all!). I’d like to say it’s a strip written by girls for girls, but because of how accurately, and yet how very funnily, it relates guy-girl relationships these days, girls will recognise aspects of themselves in the girl characters, and guys themselves in the very stereotypically guy characters. I recommend guys to read it too – provides an insight into the girl’s mind! ;)
Many a times, I can definitely see Nasty and I in them.
For example, this is very easily one of many similar dialogues I’ve had with Nasty, and the aftermath:
And this is what happens 90% of the time when I have to deal with Transport for London or National Rail:
And this is the sort of conversation I have with my girlfriends all the time :) :
Having been in London for a while now, you tend to forget how outrageously expensive things here are.
However, I got reminded one evening at a tube station.
Apparently from out of town because they didn’t have Oyster cards, a silver-haired elderly couple tried to get tickets at the Covent Garden tube station.
The husband squinted his eyes and studied the price chart and said to his wife, “Do you have change? We need change to buy tickets but I don’t have any.”
(Typical men. That’s what my dad used to always say to my mom when buses used to accept only cash.)
The old lady opens her purse. “How much is it?”
“Four quid each.”
“FOUR QUID?!” The wife squeaks, shaking her thin pale arms, brandishing her purse.
The husband, although a wrinkly old grandpa now, is still pretty much the guy’s guy: hands in his pockets, he squints at the chart again, “Yep, that’s what it says. Four quid.”
“FOUR QUID?!?! THAT CAN’T BE!!!” The wife pushes her way to the front of the chart.
There was apparently a youngster who was (seemingly reluctantly) taking them around and who, for reasons unknown, just shrugged “Yep, that’s the way it is.” instead of getting them an Oyster card each, which would effectively cut the cost of their journey in less than half.
As I went through the gates, the old lady was rummaging through her purse, still shaking her head repeating “THAT CAN’T BE! THAT CAN’T BE!” as the old man and the youngster stood by nonchalantly with their hands in their pockets, a mirror image of each other.
I was left reminded of three things:
1. How expensive transportation costs are here (both in London and in the UK in general)
2. Guys, no matter how young or old they get, will always be guys
3. Girls will continue to shriek about this and that ;)
This happened over the weekend at a pub.
Me: *extending my hand* Hi! I’m Dora.
Woman-I’ve-just-met: *grabs my hand* Oh hi Laura! I’m Mary.”
Me: *smiles* It’s Dora.
Woman: *still shaking my hand* Laura!
Me: *still beaming* Dora.
Woman *still clutching my hand but eyebrows furrowing now*: Laura!
*We both beam*
A short note.
I’ve just gotten home from seeing Three Men in a Boat at Greenwich Theatre.
I didn’t know what the play is about, I’ve never been to Greenwich Theatre, and I spent a bit of time looking for it, and then having a drink, eating ice-cream, and watching it with a guy I’ve never met.
The guy turned out to be normal, and the play turned out to be absolutely BRILLIANT.
The picture and description you see at the Greenwich Theatre website must be the understatement of the year.
It does not reflect how ingeniusly this play has been set up.
It’s about three English men and a dog taking a boat trip up the Thames from Kingston to Oxford and the (mis)adventures they encounter along the way.
Sounds regular?
But the quality of the acting, the amount of creative energy that goes into making it happen is incredible.
There are no sound systems, no music, no stagehands. Just three blokes on the stage (and some dude out back doing the lighting). They set their own scenes, play their own instruments, sing their songs, make their jokes, use a hat as the dog, very lively, very funny, set scenes ingeniusly using the most regular objects, and most brilliantly, actually managed to involve the audience, coming in and out from amongst us and ad lib-ed depending on audience reactions.
Everyone left clapping and grinning. If only we knew the words to the songs!
They are only playing there until Saturday and deserves so much more than half of the seats being empty.
The amount of thought and creativity that went into it is definitely not on par with the less than favorable location, and the little, if not zero, promotion and publicity it’s been having.
This must be the best small production play I’ve seen so far.
If you are in London, go see it. I promise you won’t be disappointed, even if you’ve never seen theatre before. Tickets are only £5 from the Evening Standard.
When I got my £60 second-hand bike, I was estatic.
I was going places I otherwise wouldn’t go to, I was getting to places a lot easier than I could.
But I thought I was very unfit as well.
Other riders whizzed past me on the roads while I struggled to accelerate after stopping at traffic lights.
I could barely make it up hills while others climb right past me.
I had to pedal twice as hard just to keep up with Nasty.
But I persevered, believing that I will one day be as fit as all those cyclists.
At the same time, I couldn’t help but check out other people’s bikes all the time. Theirs look so good, seem to work so well, so efficient.
Many a times, I thought, if only my bike would fall apart, then I would have an excuse to buy a new one!
Yes, be careful what you wish for.
Because the left pedal kept falling off, I started carrying a spanner with me and giving it a few turns every now and then.
Then the back wheel didn’t spin freely. It’s got a bulge in an area that rubs against the brake pads, slowing me down.
Then the bracket (the bit that attaches the pedals to the frame) wobbles.
The bike made strange noises and I was afraid that one day, while riding in traffic, my bike would buckle out from underneath me and I’ll get run over.
Then rolling down Parliament Hill one afternoon, my front wheel somehow got a big cut and both the tire and the inner tube (the tube inside that holds the air and expands the tire) were destroyed. I got a flat tire.
We weighed our options.
Walk it to the bike shop to get it fixed so I can ride home. (But there wasn’t a bike shop anywhere near, and the cost of fixing it all will definitely cost more than what I paid for the bike itself.)
Walk it home and think about it. (Will take a million years. And why do it if I won’t get it fixed anyways?)
Dump it and take the Tube home.
This is what I did:
I wasn’t sad to ditch it. In fact, I was glad I had it because it opened up so many doors for me. It led me to explore more, and realise all that cycling has to offer here.
I was more sheepish to admit I had to ditch it because I was so excited about it at first, I literally told EVERYONE about it…..and look how it’s ended up now. It’s like when you were a kid and brought something amazing in for show and tell, only for it to fall apart not long after. :(
But what the fuck right? I would’ve never bought a more expensive bike, because I didn’t see the point, and I didn’t know if I’d actually enjoy it. Looking back, it was a good start. It had to start that way.
I spent the next 2 weeks bike-searching, visiting numerous bike shops and on Friday, I parted with £300 for this:
This must be one of the most amazing, and expensive things I’ve ever paid for.
All of a sudden, I’m not unfit anymore.
I whizz past cars, buses and cabs. I could accelerate as fast as any other cyclist, and I could climb hills better than some others on the roads.
I was not unfit! The bloody bike was!
It’s super lightweight, it’s very easy to handle and maneuver, and it gives me so much more confidence on the roads.
At least now, instead of worrying about the bike collapsing from underneath me, I can worry more about my skills and the traffic!
I can now ride further, faster and easier, although I’m still building up my confidence riding in traffic.
The first few rides with Nasty helped immensely, because with him leading the way, I didn’t have to worry about navigation, whether I’m going the right way, when I should stop, etc. All I had to worry about was staying alive and not getting run over!
Having had a confidence boost riding with Nasty, I then set out on my own, riding all the way from Chinatown to Victoria Park. I am now more aware that I probably will not get run over, and so can focus on looking at street signs and trying to work out where I’m going.
Having paid £300 (and more due to cost of locks, lights and yet-to-be-bought helmet), my target is to keep my Oyster card (the local pay-as-you-go transportation card) usage to a minimum, and use my bike for what it’s worth!
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