Kaleidoscope

Mood: Compuzzled
Theme Song: "Bingo" - Gucci Mane

Little monsters covered in Union Jack Underoos must be coming into my house at night and nibbling away at my cerebral cortex. That is the only explanation for the fact that I looked in my spice cabinet yesterday and thought to myself, "I need to pick up some or-EH-gan-oh".  Not "OR-ray-gan-oh". Somehow my brain has decided that Oregano should be pronounced the English way, as if it were some cool new shape or Pokemon character. What's also disturbing is how easy other English words have seeped into my everyday vocabulary - "lorry", "chav", "blimey", "posh", "brolly", "till", "brilliant", "biscuit", "chips", "queue".

In other news, I finally have a sofa in my flat. This doesn't really seem like breaking news, but when you've been living out of your bedroom for the past two weeks, it is quite possibly one of the most exciting occurrences possible. It is fantastic to have something to sit on, and it makes me feel a bit like my apartment is finally coming together. It's a small place, but it is sunny and bright and mine all mine :) I still have a bunch of furniture left to buy, but there's light at the end of that tunnel and by Christmas time I should be fully set up.

I'm still immensely frustrated by how hard it is to find simple things over here. I really, really miss Wal-Mart, Target, hell even K-Mart.  Americans don't realise how easy we have it to be able to go to one store and get 95% of what we're looking for.

I'll give you an example. I need the following things: light bulbs - regular and halogen, door hooks, picture hooks, a cheap bookshelf, those cool 3M hanger things that have the adhesive strip on the back so you don't make a mark on the wall, Scotchguard and a lint brush. Now, in America I would just hop in my car and go to the nearest Wal-Mart, Target or Fred Meyer and voila! Shopping's finished. Here?

Lightbulbs - Sainbury's
Door hooks - still not sure on this one
Picture hooks - still not sure either
Cheap bookshelf - couple of options here (IKEA, Argos, Tesco Direct)
3M Hanger Things - no idea if they even have them over here
Scotchguard - order from amazon.co.uk
Lint Brush - maybe Sainsbury's, maybe Argos

See what I mean? I know things are compounded now because I no longer have a car, but even when I had wheels, I still found myself driving here there and everywhere just to get the simplest things.

Speaking of Argos, the shop is hilarious. Check it out at www.argos.co.uk. There isn't really even a store - just a bunch of a catalogues and tills and conveyer belts. It's all summed up brilliantly here - (watch the bit up to about 1:08) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=plAkZlRpqCg

I was thinking to myself the other day when the novelty of taking the train every day will wear off. I think it will probably be right around when I'm stuck on a platform in a snowstorm and the announcer comes on and says in a very posh BBC voice, "We are sorry to announce that 18:54 service to Waterloo, calling at (list of stations) is cancelled due to --"... The reason trains are cancelled here is a bit like a game of Mad Libs. I swear there are people sitting up in Central Train Control and just reaching into a hat for something to say. So far I've noticed its been:

• Signal failure (this is the most popular. I'm not sure how or why these signals keep failing, or why they don't replace them)
• Vandalism (I've actually had a train delayed due to this. I'm not sure how a train could be delayed by someone spray painting or whatnot)
• Mechanical failure
• Accidents (these range from someone stepped in front of a train to a lorry fell off a bridge and on top of a train - that one actually happened the other day)

Of course, I've yet to have a train cancelled due to sun delay, which used to happen all the time in Cincinnati. Yes, that's right. The sun...is out... and therefore, traffic is delayed. Despite the fact that the sun comes out every single day, its appearance somehow caused automobile drivers problems. ¬¬

Taking the train is quite the adventure, and it seems all normal rules of human behaviour go right out the window the minute you swipe your Oyster card or insert your ticket at the turnstile. Before I moved, my previous train experiences were limited to taking the train to central London for work or to SE London to visit someone for the weekend. They were fairly long journeys - an hour or two - and there were never very many people on the train. It all seemed very orderly and British and I found the ticket taker man quaint and was always super happy to show him that yes, yessir, I have a valid ticket, I paid the fare, look at me, good on me, can I have a biscuit now. The one weird experience I had was having what was obviously a mentally challenged man sit diagonally across from me on the ride to Blackheath, and for 40 minutes make fellatio gestures at me while periodically offering a 3-toothed smile. (That in itself was really special, considering I was on my way to a first date)

So when I queued up to get on the train for the first time to go to work, it was safe to say that I was a bit unreasonably excited. I felt alive, part of something bigger than myself. I was a TRAIN COMMUTER! I even had the beginning refrains of Manic Monday stuck in my head as I walked up to the turnstile and swiped my rail card. I went up the ramp and stood happily with all the other commuters near the tracks. I gave them all happy little nods, as if to say "Oh yes, I take the train to work everyday, too." The train pulled up to the station, right on time. The doors opened, and I minded the gap and hopped on. Everything was going smashingly until we got to Wimbledon station. For my American friends, it may be helpful for you to check out the following links to better understand what I'm talking about -

• http://www.nationalrail.co.uk/passenger_services/maps/ (maps for the train)
• http://www.tfl.gov.uk/gettingaround/1106.aspx (maps for the tube, bus and other methods of transport)

Anyway, Wimbledon is one of the central hubs for commuters going to London and to the Southwest, so it's nearly always packed. The train pulled up and it was like swimming upstream. It's hard to mind the gap

(which is not insignificant, by the way. In fact "the gap" is closer to a "person-size chasm" and beckons to my clumsiness every day as if to say "oh yes, I know YOU.... you're the one who falls down in your own bathtub, and who knocks over water no matter where you put it, and who runs into walls, and doors, and people... oh yes, I know you. See me? See this lovely dark gap? I'm just waiting for you... for a rainy day, a snowy day, for you to make a bad choice in footwear, for you to be pushed from behind by some corpulent businessman's belly... I'm waiting for you and then I will nomnomnom eat you up and cover you with oily, metally squeaky British train goodness and kill you dead. And then YOU will be the cause of a train delay...")

... it is hard to mind the gap when you are being pushed from behind and you are staring into the rabid faces of people who appear to be just dying to get on the train. So I finally made it off the train in one piece only to be swept into a veritable stream of people as I moved up the stairs to change platforms. The stairs are supposed to serve those going up and those going down - but point that out to anyone at your own risk. I spend my mornings getting all kinds of exercise by going up, up, up against harried English people going down, down, down. It's a bit like that time in Krav Maga class when our exercise for the day was to lie on the floor and have everyone pile on top of you and then "fight" your way out.

I got to the top of the Platform. One of the good things about public transportation in London is that you can just give a googly-eyed look to anyone who works for the train office and say your destination (Me: "Sutton?" Them: "Platform 9"). I've tried this with all kinds of destinations and so far it hasn't failed me. I'm sure there will be one time when I get misdirected to Staines (American friends, click here: http://onthebutton.wordpress.com/2010/11/08/renaming-ali-g-hometown/), but for now this is working well.

Once I got down to the platform for my train to Sutton, the morning quickly went back to normal speed, as I am now commuting against the traffic stream. By the time I got on the train, it was nearly empty and only filled with chattering schoolchildren (complete with Harry Potter outfits and everything).

The real fun came in the evening. A bit of background: most trains in England that I've taken have a digital display listing the stations where it "calls" (aka "stops") as well as a public address system that says things like "This is the 18:54 service to Luton, calling at...." and "The next station is Wimbledon Chase. Mind the gap." To an American like me, this is amazing because it helps me to always know where I am and where I'm going. So I got on the train from Sutton on my first day... and settled back for the 27m ride. About 10min into the trip, I suddenly realised that I hadn't heard any English voice announcing any of the stops... and that the train had no digital display, and that it was pitch black outside, and that I had NO FREAKING IDEA WHERE I WAS. Luckily each station has a big sign with its name on it, so as the train pulled up, I could squint through the window and see where I was. This was when I learned to count stations, and to pay attention on the train ;)

But I'm getting used to it. I have already passed two major milestones, which my English friends assure me are part and parcel for taking public transportation. I've seen my first adult pee puddle (why people pee on the train, I have no idea) and I was unceremoniously groped while riding a packed train to Clapham Junction. (Trains were delayed that night for - pick a reason - and so they were uncharacteristically full. We were wedged in like sardines, and the person (sure hope it was a guy, I couldn't even move to see) behind me took the opportunity to put their hands all over my rear business.)

Earlier I said that people lose all sense of how to behave properly when on the train, and I mean it. We've got people peeing on the floor (how exactly does that work anyway? do you just pee, and then get up and leave?); we've got people trying to get to 3rd base with you without your permission. And then there are the conversations I overhear. I don't know what it is about public transportation that makes people think it's okay to talk about anything at all... but it might be the same force that causes people to think that if they pick their nose in their car no one will see.

Since riding the train I have overheard conversations (both live and on the phone) about:

• STDs (a girl was talking in great detail about her "itch")
• Infidelity (man on phone: "well, I guess if you have to sleep with my brother, that's fine, but for god's sake darling please don't take him to our country house"... NOT kidding on that one)
• Theft (a whole conversation between two people about how they were going to go to one of their friend's house and basically rip them off)
• Bodily functions (I've heard treatises on diarrhea, flatulence, excessive mucus production, diaper rash, breast hairs (that was a funny day), etc etc)

My advice to anyone taking the train - be careful what you say, because there are people like me around. People who are not zoned out into a newspaper or listening to an iPod and who are counting stops to make sure they don't end up in Serbia by accident. These kind of people like me, we listen. We listen closely... and we remember.

That's all for today, folks.
Federman out.