Mr. Allen Goes to London

I've been a might busy over the past couple of weeks entertaining my dad, and I, therefore, apologize (I literally almost spelled it the 'english' way just then...apologise....!!)for not blogging and subsequently for the crummy update blog in which I try to cram everything into a blog that isn't so blindingly daunting that you take one look and click on the link to Diana's blog...which...by the by...has been dormant for longer than mine...and Diana is on spring break now.

OKAY. So my dad arrived on a Thursday evening two weeks ago. I was late to pick him up from Heathrow because, ironically, it takes longer to get from central london to southwest london on the tube than it does to get from Glasgow, Scotland on a plane. Awesome. He was fine though, sauntering around with a pocket full of change that he only recently realized was 1 and 2 pound coins. Liam and I tossed him right into the frying pan by making him walk about a mile to and from a restaurant Friday night and then dragging him up a big hill at Highgate and up and down numerous hills on hampstead heath. we visited Highgate cemetery where we saw the grave of Karl Marx:

and this:

and this:

and finally, this:

Then we walked some more and then some more and finally forced dad to sit through the last half of the United/some other team that lost football game in the pub down the street where the owner tried to charge me 1.40 pounds for two small bags of chips, but took a single pound when I (lied and) told him that was all I had. .70 pence is way too much for a bag of chips at a pub....and I know...I love pubs. In fact, pub culture is one of my favo(u)rite things about London life. They're so warm and inviting with their fireplaces and big 'leather' chairs, dark lighting, and creamy bitter...especially when there's no t.v. to spoil the atmosphere, and trust me, there are plenty of pubs without tellies.

Anywho. Later, we made chili with beef...which I was embarrassed about when my house mate Simone came home. She's Hindu...and I wasn't expecting her in, and I LOVE beef chili. She (lied and) said she was already planning on eating something else, and every time I wanted to look up from my bowl of chili to remark 'isn't this delicious,' I felt kind of bad and I bit my tongue. beef schmeef....hindu schmindu. yeah, i said it.

The next week was filled with dragging my dad around from one corner of London to the next until he (literally, on occasion) begged to slow down and just sit and read at home. I was worried he wouldn't see everything he might want to see, worried that he might not have a good time. I was being a daughter. curses.

After a few nights of not being sure I was going to be able to see them, I downloaded the academy awards and watched them on a couple of train rides on my laptop. always a pleasure.

My dad and I saw Kevin Spacey and Jeff Goldblum live in David Mamet's 'Speed the Plow.' Brilliance...sheer brillinace...except for the girl. Rarely do I see a play and think, 'I would have been so much better in that role,' but this is one of those instances. She just DID NOT understand Mamet and his dialog style. It was miserably watching her perform. She sucked the life right off the stage and made Jeff (cause he's my pal) practically beg for some interaction (which was not the idea). In the end they were supposed to have slept with each other, but the chemistry experiment was an utter failure due to the lack of potent substances. Kevin Spacey came back in the end to save the day and save Jeff's back. So, I say it now...I would have been SO MUCH BETTER than she was.



I hope you've enjoyed the blog, and the obligatory tourist dad pictures interspersed throughout. These were my idea, of course.

The Boring Slide Show/I Feel LIke I Haven't Shared Enough Pic's Blog

So here goes...
Let's begin with one of my favorite restaurants (that I've never actually tried) in central London:

Yes my friends...It's the S & M (sausage and mash) Cafe. It's over by Brick Lane (where you go to have too many Indian restaurants to choose from), and every time I pass it, I laugh. Liam made fun of me for being touristy when I finally remembered to get a picture of it. Touristy shmouristy.

Our next exhibit is:

It's a front seat view from what Liam calls 'the most exciting thing in London'...the Dockland's Light Rail which travels without a driver. And, no, Diana, sadly enough the DLR is not free. However, it is included in your Tube pass...so....kind of? We traveled for about 3 minutes of pure bliss just like this, until we had to change trains and could not find such a sweet seat on the next one. Could you ask for more though? Really?

Next we turn our attention to a more obvious tourist attraction:

The Millennium Bridge that connects St. Paul's with the slightly less reverent Tate Modern is quite a site to behold after the sun goes down. One day before Christmas, Liam and I trekked across to enjoy the Holiday Frost Fest. We bundled up ready for Christmas tunes, Mulled wine, and general holiday cheer. We got the mulled wine and even roasted chestnuts (delicious), but the closest we came to Holiday music was La Bamba and then later some African Tribal something or other...I think. We did not find the promised Husky rides...although we might've been a little too big.

Here's a picture that Diana might disown me for:
She and the lovely Liam are standing on the Underground Platform at Camden town. I can't quite remember why we were here, or where we were going, but I was still suffering from the awful cold sads. Woo Hoo for the Underground.

Diana, let me redeem myself with this picture of you and me:

We've just been for a walk in the spitting cold rain and are settling down with the Manchester Crew at a touristy pub on the country-side. I've just gotten my camera and am taking pictures of everything.

Here's a lovely view from that walk in the Delamere Forest:

well..kind of a swampy area in the middle of it all. I stopped taking pictures soon after this one because of the rain.

Bear with me, as I know many of these are outdated..but I feel you deserve some visuals.

Here's a Christmasy shot of Liam's friends from Manchester, Jack and Ben after the rain and in the pub to warm up with a bitter and a log burning fire.

Another picture Diana will love me for:

Taken in the front room of Liam's parents' home shortly after Diana's triumphant arrival in Manchester, UK.

And finally:

Because as long as you have a suit jacket, it doesn't matter what you wear. You're fit to be hired(yes, I know my room needs to be cleaned).