What do you do when you have no friends???

You do things by yourself!

Not that I would know...I mean, I'm kind of a big deal. People know me. I have many leather-bound books.

But, there is the occasional situation where you don't have a partner in crime (aka my first 3 months in London). Solution: get comfortable doing things on your own, like:

• Going to Saturday markets. While others might mingle, taste things, buy stuff and chat with their buddies you can meander about, then leave awkwardly after about 5 minutes.
• Go to the movies. Nothing hides your solo status better than a dark theater, right? Actually, you'd be wrong. I went to see Star Wars, and some dude literally called me out as I was looking for my seat, "Hey! Are you all alone?" Turns out he was trying to be nice and invited me to join with his friends. Yea....thanks for that.
• Hop on a bus, take a day trip to Oxford (pictures below), and go to a concert by yourself. Why not? I did. I saw Temper Trap on September 19th in a little venue: pretty fun. I even sold a spare ticket to a couple of guys and hung out with them at a pub before the show while they got a little drunk. Bet that sounds like an ideal evening for a Mormon :)

I LOVE this red ivy:

Just outside of the scope of this picture on the left, there was a couple cuddling, along with a lone man who was clearly not with them sitting very strangely close to the pair. I may be a loner, but I take solace in the fact I'm not that socially weird. I tried to snap an inconspicuous shot, but it was in vain.

MUSE

Things I highly recommend:

1. Seeing Muse Live
2. Seeing Muse Live in London
3. Seeing Muse Live in London with General Admission seats
4. Seeing Muse Live in London with General Admission seats, and being 4 people away from the stage center (see pic below)

Things I don't highly recommend:

1. Seeing Muse Live in London with General Admission seats if you are (a) claustrophobic (b) mind getting pummeled by fellow fans (c) don't like the idea of being drenched head to toe in sweat (yours and especially other folk's sweat)
2. Standing behind a large guy who jumps on top of your feet all night
3. Getting your uninsured iPhone stolen from your front pocket at the Muse concert which will cost you about $500 to replace

Pic from iPhone (about an hour before it was stolen):

Picture of my bruised feet a full WEEK after the concert (lots and lots of jumping up there in the front):

A long clip from their set that night; if you look close I bet you can see the butt head who was stole a bunch of people's phones...

PS Anyone interested in seeing them in Wembley stadium September 2010? My friend and I together have a dozen tickets :)

Virtual Slap in the Face

Sometimes technology helps us communicate. A lot of times it helps us avoid each other. And most the time, even the best forms of communication lead to miscommunication or problems...Like when you send an email or text to the wrong person. Yeah, we've all been there.

Anyway, I know you won't believe me when I say this, because it's a "my friend" story which usually means it happened to the person telling the story, but really, I have a friend which encountered the following: several flirtatious texts back and forth to a person of interest were sent. Said female friend sent one implying a date...and the responder didn't respond. For a full day.

If that's not a virtual slap in the face, I'm not sure what is. As is usual, I find a graph best describes ones feelings in said situation:Note: Thankfully said conversation has been smoothed over and a lunch date has been promised. But man, that kind of stuff shouldn't be part of the game 'cause that's just emotional torture.

When in Rome...

I went to Rome, and it was fabulous. I ate a lot of gelato, saw a lot of attractive men.

I also had to pay about $10 for a TINY, single-use tube of sunscreen since the airport security confiscated mine. I wish there was a way I could stick it back to the man [the man being all those tourist "friendly" places who rip you off with riiidiculous prices], but alas, I have no power. I hate being at their mercy...

All in all, I’d recommend the place :D

Since I am way to lazy to upload the massive amount of pictures again, check out the album here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2303272&id=17806915&l=a634213265

Halloween. Boom.

Green shirt, green tights, little boys "Boom" briefs + cardboard covered in foil + several hours of shopping and construction = Priceless Halloween costume

I [proudly] present my [amazing] Halloween costume for 2009. Continuing my [impressive] tradition of homemade outfits, my friend Monica and I [creatively] constructed Mrs. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle outfits. I went as Mrs. Rafael. Kowabunga dude!

Yes, Monica and I did get dressed at my office an take the tube to the partay:

[Note: subliminal messaging may have been used to impress the reader even more with the hilarity of my costume]

Wales. Booyah.

I went hiking in Snowdonia in Wales. It’s a mountain range. We hiked across Grib Coch. We named it the cradle of death.

I’m afraid of heights. It was scary.

At the top of the ridge, after rock climbing to get there (literally rock climbing up--I don't have pics of this part but I swear it was straight up), this is how I was moving (except even slower):

You’d be holding onto dear life too. I was too pansy to carry a camera, so here are some pictures the others took. Fortunately you couldn’t see the 3,000 foot drop on either side at the top since it was foggy. Bless you, fog.

The crew:

The view:
Another view:

View #3

Kate climbing up towards the ridge:

A bum shot of me climbing up to the ridge:
Beginning of the ridge:

I'm not prejudice against the disabled, but com'on....

I’m pretty settled in my place now, but realized I never blogged about my move along with my “differently-abled” moving man I hired.

I’d bought some furniture from a classified ad, and also hired a “man with a van” service to transport said furniture. When I met my mover at the house to pick up the stuff, the aforementioned “man with a van” stepped out of the van, along with his one leg and set of crutches. Yes, he was a one-legged mover. I’m not kidding.



Thanks the kind stranger walking by my flat later on who helped me unload my furniture.