Regardless of all of the hype surrounding the classic British wit, there is apparently no room for it in serious essays on security or wars in the former USSR. So I’ve decide to use all of mine now, before finishing and editing my two papers due Thursday and Friday, and reading a novel for Friday morning. And who knows? If I get enough done now, perhaps I’ll be able to make it out on St. Patrick’s Day after all.

After Frank and Andy left ten days ago, I had a two hour reflective layover before meeting Ainsley, Alexis and Ginger at the East Putney station at seven in the morning, and it was nonstop from there. Well. That’s a lie. We managed to spend an incredible amount of time doing absolutely nothing, but it couldn’t have been more fun. Walking up the street to their apartment, we stopped at every cute house and cottage on the way, praying that that one would be theirs. We knew that we were outside the correct one, because it appeared to be an internment camp; a grayish-brown cement square, with no windows. But after going inside, we found it to be quite lovely, airy and bright, and it even had a backyard.

After settling in, we did the mandatory rounds of sightseeing, including Parliament, Trafalgar Square, the Portrait Gallery, the Eye and Westminster Abbey. Fortunately, every site turned out to be a photo-shoot, and whether or not there is a picture of a single historic landmark it is difficult to say. I had told my friends in advance that the Liverpool v. Manchester United game was more important to me than their friendship, so they agreed to watch several incredibly successful hours of football at a pub with me, Momo and Matt.

We were all pretty beat after a day of touring and pubbing, so we went back to Putney and managed to insult almost every person on the underground, particularly, every girlfriend. Hungry, we decided to get pizzas, wine and movies and call it a girl’s night. Ains and I went to get the movies, while the other two were going to wait for the pizza… Or so we though. Ginger and Alexis instead went to the nearby Prince of Wales, where they met a lovely vest-wearing gentleman by the name of James. James soon became the talking point of every night, despite the fact that they had known him for under 30 minutes, and had surrendered the pizzas to mine and Ainsley’s wrath. We decided on a British themed film night, and watched The Duchess and Cracks, and if you’re not into disturbing paedophilia, you might want to pass on Crack(s) (pun intended).

The next morning we woke up, had coffee in our backyard, and listened to the schoolchildren scream as if they were being tortured. After spending well over an hour getting dressed in our interesting London outfits, we set out for a day at Harrod’s and picture taking, before picking up Kristen at King’s Cross. What I had forgotten to tell Kristen, was that she had an hour turnaround from entering the country, getting to my apartment to change, and then going for a 6 mile run with the hash. She was a great sport about it though, and we had a lovely, if not painful, run around London Bridge before ending at a pub and getting some drinks in. Afterwards, we were all starving, so we decided to go to Lambeth to get the most wonderful curry, and ate far too much. As much as we like to flatter ourselves, and we do, I think we must’ve been the only ones in that day, because the waiter gave us free papadoums.

On Wednesday, my memory starts to get a little fuzzy. I guess I should’ve been writing things down, but judging by Facebook pictures, we went to the Victoria and Albert Museum. We all liked it a lot, but Alexis thought it was the loveliest. That was also when I was informed that she had started a band called the Otter Administration, I joined it, and we promptly released our first EP, Bellies. I’m expecting it to go transcontinental shortly. Momo took us to lunch to the best Korean restaurant, and then we walked through Hyde Park, where for some reason Ainsley and Ginger performed a stirring rendition of Edelweiss.

As it was a Wednesday, we were well aware that James would again be working at the Prince of Wales, so when we got back to Putney we put on our going out clothes (or sleeping dresses), had a little party at the apartment and settled down at the pub. He was so glad to see them that he gave us all free drinks of something terrible, and we insisted on meeting every one of his coworkers. He told us all about this great club down the street, and promised to meet us there after he got off. When the pub closed, and Alexis and Kristen (as a good friend) went back to the apartment to watch Cracks. Ainsley, Ginger and I went to the Railway, where I promptly found the oldest man to engage in conversation about the Schengen countries, while the other two found cute boys, and insisted on calling me Mom. We soon left and found a group of four guys and a girl. Upon learning all of their names someone, probably Ginger, decided to rename them after some other friends so that we would remember them.

The next morning, we all woke up looking like we had gotten into a fight with sticks of eyeliner, wondering why Cracks was half hanging in the DVD player, why there were bowls of goldfish and potatoes, and why Ainsley was covered in Kristen’s clothes. We may never know. But we did eventually get the day under way with Kristen, Ains and I reading in Regent’s Park before meeting Alexis and Ginger for a much needed pub lunch. After lunch, I left them for class and promised to meet them later at a pub called the Ship with Momo. Momo told us that the pub was haunted, and it had been used as a church for Catholics, and priests had given mass from behind the bar. I mean, I could think of some worse ideas than holding church in a bar. After we’d been there for a couple of hours, and meeting some of Momo’s friends, we went back to Putney, with some members of the group still nursing injuries from the night before.

I had to leave my friends on Friday, as I had to pretend that I had read a book for class (which I did pretty well), and then give a presentation. After the presentation, our teachers told us we were going to meet in a pub after class for drinks. As it’s my Blog, and I control it, I am going to skip over the rest of the night.

Suffice to say, I woke up well rested at four in the morning in Putney, inside the apartment. Alexis woke up soon after and started yelling at me about her night terrors. I was more than happy to have company, so I kept her awake for the better part of two hours, when she finally handed me her computer, then yelled at me for typing too loudly, then went upstairs to sleep. When Saturday morning did role around, we had a jam-packed plan to get the day underway. Although, as with most things that are jam-filled, it was better in theory than in practice, and we didn’t end up leaving the apartment until three.

We still managed to get a lot of things done, including figuring out the bus transport system, something that I had previously dreaded. We went back to the site of the lovely V&A, ready for what was next, then decided to get our pictures taken on the Barclays bikes, before looking at Kensington Palace, and shopping at Portobello Road Market. Everyone bought leather bags (except for me, because in theory I am against that) from a chic woman in a cape and fur hat, before we went off to the Tate Modern for a fifteen minute viewing of Modern Art. Apart from some Monet’s, Picasso’s, Braque’s and Pollock’s, there was nothing else we really cared for, and we met Momo and Matt for a delicious meal at Wagamama’s, while Ainsley received a crash course in reinsurance. When we finished our sixth international cuisine in five days, we went back to Putney for our last night together, where we drank wine and milk, watched the Inbetweeners, and drew on moustaches and unibrows for reasons still unknown to me.

At five the next morning, Kristen made us all breakfast, while we scrambled to pack, and headed for the train station. Upon arriving at the train station, we realized we had no idea how to work it, so we went back to Ginger’s favorite bus station to find a tube line that wasn’t closed for the weekend. After Kristen and I had seen Ainsley, Ginger and Alexis off, we went back to Lambeth (after being chased by an actual mouse!) and walked around Westminster, gossiping and drinking coffee and talking about how much we liked studying abroad, but still love State College.

I think that’s when I realized that I actually was getting a little homesick, and it didn’t help that I had to say goodbye to her a couple of hours later at King’s Cross. But in the meantime, I have to get back to work, and I apologize for the inane length of this blog. I wish that it could have been more insightful, so maybe next time I’ll try to have some profound epiphany to report. All pictures are property of Kristen, as I don’t have a camera, because it would be harder to be in the pictures.

Location: East Putney

Hello BlogFriends!

I’m sure that my temporary absence has been severely missed, or perhaps likelier, completely unnoticed, but I’ve been in a bit of a rush lately. A mere ten days ago, two of Johnny’s friends, Andy and Frank, stayed with me for the weekend. This meant I finally cleaned my room, and went so far as to drag the vacuum all the way up my stairs, as my elevator is broken. Yet by the time they arrived, it was back to its usual state between messy and nook-like.

Fortunately, I got to practice all of my unnecessary London knowledge on them, like the year of the London fire (1666), and what defined ‘the City’, when we went to meet up with Momo and Matt and some of their work friends to try ‘proper ale’. They also met a couple of the kids on my floor, and I can now have backup in admitting that some of them are in fact crazy. I also managed to get Frank and Andy in trouble when I gave them the keys to the dorm. After being reprimanded, they had to resort to McGuyver-esque stunts to lock the door before leaving.

On their last night, Frank and Andy decided that it would be easier to stay awake rather than sleep before leaving at four AM. As Ainsley, Alexis and Ginger were getting in two hours after that, I agreed it seemed like a pretty good idea. So we decided to go to the always fabulous Elephant and Castle (sarcasm doesn’t always come across in a blog), where we had planned to go techno-dancing. After some complications, we did not in fact get to Ministry, so we went to a pub across the road that seemed to be a mix of a nail salon, poor high school gym dance, and the scum of the underworld. It was glorious. There has never been a mix of funnier people congregated in one place and I learned so much about dancing.

The night hit a high note when the 85-year-old “Callum the Irish Drunkenman” asked me to dance. Which I did happily, before he thanked Frank and Andy for letting him dance with their wife. Several people recorded our incredible dance sequence, so I plan on scouring YouTube later to find it. I’m quite sure no one has ever been more confused by a situation, and I’d like to have been able to tell you that it was a strange situation, but it is starting to seem rather typical.

I had been planning on writing about my girls’ visit as well, but I’ll get around to it tomorrow.

Location: Elephant and Castle