October 3rd, 2006

Morning cuppa

Londoner. Phantom.

If you're local and scanning, read this and this and tell me if you're free on Sunday. (Read notes at bottom for more info.)

Walking toward the Hammersmith Bridge along the banks of the Thames makes me feel kind of thrilled to be living here (provided I don't have my nose buried in a book and I'm remembering to dodge the dog poop on the sidewalk). Today I've got my London Girl clothes on - well, at least, I'm wearing the red and black jacket and matching skirt I picked up from Debenham's this weekend - a "welcome to London and congrats on your first paycheck" present to me - and the boots I bought last winter intending to wear here (flat and waterproof, perfect for commuting with walks). My joke to myself is that I'm (mod) London Barbie today, perfectly accessorized with matching bags under my eyes.

The whole purpose of my walk was to go to the bank, where I discovered my bonus check has deposited (yay!) but my check from home most decidedly has not. I also discovered I do NOT qualify for a credit card until I've had my account for three months - how incredibly frustrating! It's time for me to cancel all of my cards back home and I can't really do this until I can ... well, I'll manage, I can pay for stuff online with my bank card so I'm probably ready to bite the bullet. While I was there, I had them draw up a cashier's check for my deposit and first month's rent - it was all just too much money to comprehend so I decided to not think about it and instead get irritated over the outrageous £15 fee they charged me to write the check. Wow! This is customer service? I'm surprised they didn't ask for a pint of my blood to boot.

At any rate, I'm ready to go with the deposit at least. For now, it's back to writing a test plan. But first ... I read that they're doing Lon Chaney's Phantom of the Opera this weekend at the Royal Opera House with orchestral score. Anyone interested in coming with (provided it's not already sold out)?

Go Go London Girl

I was really going to do my shallow fashion post but instead I'm doing the boring dinner post. My trainer/peer guy came by at five 'til six and kept me for rather a while. I had this fear he was going to go, "Too much IM with husband!" or, "You're guilty of printing too many articles off of the New York Times!" but thankfully it was just some boring personnel and training issue. However, it made me rather late home, not helped by the District and Circle lines both puking tonight (making me go to Green Park to transfer instead of Victoria - boring commuter details). In short, dinner, which was curry pineapple chicken (free formed from a variety of spices, none of which were the curry powder called for in the original recipe) with potatoes (for the hell of it) and sides of basmati/wild rice (with turmeric for pizzazz) and callaloo (from a can, my cheater backup), was ready to eat at an incredibly "past my dinnertime" hour. This plus supermarket naan (which ROCKS here, about a million times better than TJs) and a bottle of "vintage Herefordshire cider" mean I'm now very full and very tired. Lame to not eat until 8:40. Lame to not really be able to do anything else after dinner but dink on LJ and YIM for a tiny bit, take a shower, and put the leftovers in the fridge.

Now, shower. Night all.
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