On Sunday I bit the bullet and went to Oxford Street for a bit of shopping. It was insanely crowded, as I knew it would be on a Sunday afternoon, but I had a fresh podcast to listen to during the 40 minutes I was in the queue for the changing room at Primark, so I was okay. I mean, my arm got very tired and I jettisoned several items before I even tried them on, but I was entertained. I ended up with a dress and some birthday presents for my lovely niece Mattie. I got some other bargains – even though I had to go to all three Uniqlo locations on Oxford Street. Their flagship store is almost completely given over to a range of artsy t-shirts they’ve done in collaboration with international artists and very large photos of Chloe Sevigny wearing said t-shirts, so that there is very little room left for anything else. I finally found some actual clothes at the third, oldest and by far least fashionable location – a couple of tops for £2.99 each and a trench styled jacket marked down from £39.99 to £19.99.

I also saw Pete Burns (of Dead or Alive and horror plastic surgery fame) in American Apparel. In a very ick-making move, they were playing “You Spin Me Right Round, Baby” when I walked in and about 30 seconds later I bumped into him. He was relatively small, only about my height, which surprised me because I always thought he was more statuesque. However, he did look a little bit like a monster in a fairy tale. I was telling this to a woman at work and she said, “You know, they’re people, just like us,” but I had to say, “No, actually, he’s not.”

Good News...and More Good News

The main good news is that it’s now official that I will be going back to school! In September I’ll start on an MA in Town and Regional Planning at the University of Westminster. It’s a full time course, just one year, and then I will finally have a degree that actually allows me to get a job. So far I’ve had the kind of liberal arts degrees that make one a more well-rounded person, very good at chatting to strangers at parties about the “arts” but prone to analyzing movies far beyond the point where other people are interested. With this new degree, and after jumping through a few more hoops (mostly racking up enough hours of work experience), I’ll be a town planner and (hopefully) a member of the Royal Town Planning Institute. Membership in anything Royal is pretty exciting. Also, the campus where I’ll be taking classes is across the street from Madame Tussaud’s!

For those unfamiliar with it, town planning in the UK is like zoning on steroids. There are national, regional and local levels of regulations or “guidance” as it is euphemistically called, some of which can conflict, and which take into account everything from the aesthetics of a design, safety, impact on local traffic, accessibility for the disabled, environmental impact, archeological sensitivity of proposed building sites, to even whether new buildings will block too much sunlight to existing ones or “overlook” them and thus infringe on current occupants’ privacy. These things have to be considered in pretty much every construction situation - whether someone wants to build an extension on their house or a huge shopping centre. In some historical buildings, permission has to be given before changes are made to the internal layout.

Obviously, there is a lot to it and while planning has a reputation for being really boring, I find it fascinating. Last year I read what is considered the seminal text in the field The Death and Life of American Cities by Jane Jacobs and got really hooked. (I borrowed it from a friend and now have it on my Amazon wishlist - hint hint.) I’m now working my way through an anthology on urban design and have been scavenging magazines from the architects’ office where I’m temping. Last night I said to Matthew, “You know, this course only lasts one year. I don’t know if I’ll have time to learn everything I need to know!” His response was something along the lines of, “In that case, stop watching TV and get to reading your book.” I ignored this, as we were watching a Dylan Moran stand-up special which I was finding very funny.

More good news – Thursday we got cable! For free! Matthew works for a TV network which has recently decided that all their UK employees should be able to watch at home so they’re paying for us to get cable. I expect this will substantially improve our quality of life, or at least allow us to watch cricket on TV.* As Matthew says, woo and, indeed, hoo!

*Actually, we won't be able to watch the cricket, as it is on a different cable network. I am pretty disappointed because I actually do enjoy watching cricket. It is so English - they break for lunch and tea - and the game is so famously complicated that even a rudimentary understanding of it makes me feel that I might finally be cracking this "English" thing. (They have a phrase, "that's not cricket," which means something isn't right. It can be used about something really horrendous, like the Zimbabwean elections, but means that's just not the way we play the game. It came to a head last year when a Pakistani player was accused of ball-tampering, a racism row erupted, and all everyone could say was that it was just so not at all cricket!) Anyway, Matthew suggests that I start watching Formula 1 racing with him, but that's obviously ridiculous. However, we do have a "pick of the week" on-demand feature, which means that last night we watched Dr Who six days after broadcast without taping or downloading it or anything. So that's cool.

The Kids Just Wanna Dance, plus an Interesting Exchange

So we went to a children's party at a bar, but it wasn't like that. It was like this. Even without a kid of our own, we had a really good time. There were lots of cool kids (both little and big) in their alternative finest. Our friend Jackson was in a Ramones tee and his girlfriend (from nursery) Kitty had on skinny indie kid jeans and a black sweater with a skull. She also has a coon skin cap(!) which is cute almost to the point of ridiculousness. Here we see Jackson rehydrating after a bit of running around/dancing/bouncing off the walls:

All the grown-ups seemed very cool (i.e. lots of heavy-framed glasses and tattoos) so I was very surprised to find myself in a conversation straight out of a chick flick - and a cheesy one that uses cliches in place of creative writing, at that. Below is a word-for-word transcript of an exchange between me and a woman I had met no more than an hour earlier.

Woman: So, are you two thinking of having kids?
Me: Oh, uh, well, yeah. We were actually going to make that our project this year, but, uh, mmm, instead I'm going back to school. So, ya know...
Woman: How old are you?
Me: (truthful answer).
Woman: Well, don't leave it too long.
Me: (shocked silence).

First, I could not believe that anyone would ask a nearly total stranger if she intends to have children. This is a very private matter and potentially so emotionally fraught! I know people who have chosen not to have children because they are content with their lives without offspring, and others who've made the same choice because their own childhoods were less than idyllic. I also know people who want kids but have run into various physical/medical roadblocks. And there are myriad other reasons people might put off procreating. For example, after a lot of discussion and soul-searching, we decided I would go back to school (more on that later) so that we could afford to feed/clothe/spoil any eventual kiddies. Regardless of the reason, I wouldn't expect someone I just met to want to discuss their most private hopes, fears and dreams with me. Even if I were desperate for a topic of conversation, I would probably open with something like, "Have you seen the US Office? I think it holds up really well against the original." It's still provocative (Brits are insanely proud of the Office) but less likely to make someone cry.

Secondly, who asks a woman her age? Honestly? You can ask any Borscht Belt comedian from the 1950s on - we don't like it!

Third - thanks for the news flash. Is there a woman in her 30s who hasn't been bombarded with horror stories about swiftly-ticking biological clocks, artificial hormones in our food, the dangers or benefits of the Pill, etc, etc, etc? This is not new information. This is information that I have to go out of my way to avoid, skipping entire sections of newspapers and holding my hands over my ears and going, "Nah, nah, can't hear you, nah, nah" whenever it comes on the news. The media really, really want me to know about this; I don't need casual acquaintances to fill me in at social gatherings. But thanks for the tip!

The Trailer

Yes, it's been ages since I've posted. I've been very busy, what with not working very regularly, sleeping, reading Stuff White People Like compulsively and conducting some cooking experiments. My findings: turns out risotto is simple - but hard at the same time. Matthew does not find the sight of a turkey carcass boiling merrily very appetising and, honestly, doesn't understand why we can't just buy stock cubes (I have no answer for this). And, while a splash of Worcestershire sauce perks up homemade turkey soup nicely, vinegar not so much.

I've done more than that, of course. I'm just not going to write about it right now. I would, but have decided instead to watch TV while mending my beloved brown blanket. But I will expound soon enough and here are just some of the exciting topics you can expect to see covered:

- houseguests! My friends Tasca and Jim and their daughter Bo came to visit from Edinburgh and we had a brilliant time!

- we saw the Rolling Stones - sort of!
- degrees that actually help people get jobs!
- we went to a child's birthday party at a bar/night club!
- Shakespeare!
- new television obsessions!
- and probably lots more!

Sounds exciting, doesn't it?