UQ Strikes Again

I HATE THE TUBE STRIKE. Yesterday was such a hellish day, way more so than necessary, principally due to the tube strike. I figured out that all I had to do to get to work was take the 70 to South Kensington and then take the 345 to BAC. No problem. I left Palace Court at 8:20, 40 minutes earlier than usual. Not that it did me any good. I waited that entire time for the 70 bus. The 94, 148, and 390 all sped by about every 5 minutes but not the 70. I was getting really irritated and worried and then one showed up only to be unable to take more passengers. I was about to cry when another one showed up and I rushed on. There were no more problems so I got to work about the time I usually did only it took 1.5 hours instead of 1.

It was a pretty light day especially since I had to leave at 4:30 to make it to Islington for class. Josh, Ed, and I carried extremely heavy drapes to the Grand Hall, unfurled them, measured them, labeled them, refolded them, and then carried them back. Thus we were engaged for the morning and I went off to enjoy breakfast for lunch at a local cafe. The sausage here is SO GOOD. The grilled tomatoes not so much.

After lunch, there was lots of taking things apart and stacking of extremely heavy scissor deck. I hate scissor deck. With a fiery passion. It hurts. I have wounds to prove it. 4:30 rolled around and I sped off for the 87 bus to Aldwych and then the 341 the rest of the way to Angel. Ah, the best laid plans...

I got on the 87 like I was supposed to. Then we get to Parliament Square and the driver says last stop. Last stop is supposed to be Aldwych but for some reason he decided he was done or something. So I got off that bus only to wait about 30 seconds for the next 87 that did go to Aldwych to get through the intersection. So pointless. I thought I was in the clear again. Wrong. Traffic came to a standstill. Literally. We sat there for like half an hour watching green light after green light go by. I was completely freaked out by this time. Of course the 341 took its sweet time coming as well but at last I alighted at Angel and walked rapidly to City University. I got to class right on time, 2 hours after I had set off. I was not even the worst either, some people took as much as 3 hours to get there.

The class was about Britishness and national sentiment. We took a British citizenship test and I was one away from qualifying for citizenship. Really though, who cares that the number of people in the UK 19 and under is 15 million? How is that relevant to life as a British citizen? How to register to vote now that was a good question. Then we watched a British reality show called Dragon's Den where people pitch their product, business, band, etc to a panel of established business men and women hoping to get their investment. It was kind of amusing to see some of the stupid things people tried to get these people interested in. Like a machine that made water out of air but tasted like crap thus making it useless. It was nice to see it was taken seriously though, no Simon Cowell needless meanness, but actual business and business like behavior. Lindsay, Nori, and I rode home together and had a good time sitting at the front of the top deck just talking and watching the city go by.

Some of us really needed to go out after our day so we went to the nearby Prince Albert. I walked in the door and was immediately grabbed by a very drunk Australian. He wanted us to talk to his friend on the mobile phone and get him to come to the pub. Mark had his arm around me and would not let me go, which was unpleasant for many reasons, not the least of which was the alcohol on his breath. The other girls were of course thrilled to be talking to cute Australians so we eventually joined their table with our drinks. I, however, was stuck with ridiculously drunk Mark from the University of Queensland in Brisbane. Great, another ass from UQ, am I safe from them nowhere? I was having terrible flashbacks to Andrew and China. Finally, the other girls were ready to leave, so I move to get out of the booth. Mark immediately scoots in and blocks my way. He puts his arms around my shoulders again and tries to get me to stay. I refused and his hand moves down to my waist. I refuse again. Finally, he lets me go only to squeeze my ass as I leave the booth. At this point, I about to bolt out of there though I have to wait a few more agonizing moments for the others. Needless to say, I sped away from that pub and did not look back. My ego couldn't even get a boost because he was so drunk he probably had no idea what I actually looked like nor would remember meeting me in the morning. Ugh.

Getting to work was much easier today probably because no one is in transit to work at 12:30 like me. The bus rides were actually pleasant, nice to see London and not just be underground. I have discovered this is the great thing about buses, you know when they aren't packed full of disgruntled commuters. I might take the bus more once the strike ends and most other people go back underground.

Work was standard again, laid out dance floor which is surprisingly difficult and tedious. Then the YPT kids came for their rehearsal. I don't like a lot of those kids. They are so rude to their director, never listen, and just always talk and don't try. Plus they still wear tights as pants. I didn't do anything for the whole two hours since they haven't really progressed to needing a stage manager yet and just restrained my desire to smack some of them. I would like to think we at Civic were never as bratty as these kids. The adults even had to have a discussion after the kids left about how bad the situation was.

Well now I need to go to sleep because I am waking up in 4 hours to go to Paris for the weekend. I am really excited but it is going to be intense. I will be leaving my computer here so no updates until Sunday at the earliest. Hoepfully I will have many Gallic adventures with which to entertain you all. A bientot!