I am *so* over this city
A diatribe in two parts.
Part the first: London does not understand January.
In civilised places, January is a perfectly decent month, full of shiny promises and shortlived optimism and misplaced energy. It's deluded and useless, but fun.
In London, January is bleak. BLEAK. It is full of the rain and the greyness and the stale Christmas decorations. It is full of miserable faces and — the worst sin — people who are AWARE of the futility of their New Year's resolutions. It is full of ads for Nicorette and gyms and detox snake oil. It is full of sales. Oh, the sales. The thousands of desperate consumers, convincing themselves that those gold rubber boots are the bargain of the century for just long enough to get them home, after which the full horror of their purchase comes upon them, and crushes them with such shame, they are unable to face the returns desk, and who could blame them. Even the banks have January sales. What kind of place is it that offers cutprice mortgages in January? What's that about? Refinance your house now so that you can spend EVEN MORE on cutprice novelty gifts and reindeer sweaters "for next year"? It's a deeply disturbed place, that's what it is. Deeply disturbed.
And even — or especially — with all those consumer aids to Being A Better You, there is no chance in HADES of actually getting more exercise or eating less chocolate. I mean, there might be, if you weren't IN LONDON IN JANUARY. The only resolution you have a chance of keeping is: Stay under the duvet more. Which sounds like a perfectly sensible resolution to me, although it's unlikely to make me either richer or thinner, which after all is the ultimate goal of all NY resolutions. No, if I want to be rich and thin, I clearly need to be somewhere sensible. Not London. This is a crazy place. Consider, for instance...
Part the second: London is sucking my soul.
Tonight I saw the headline, "WATERLOO SUICIDE HORROR" and my first thought was: oh damn, I hope my train won't be delayed.
BAD human. BAD.
Disclaimer: Notwithstanding any of the above, I reserve the right to continue get all mushy every time I cross the river and/or listen to Waterloo Sunset.
9 comments:
Regarding train delays: everybody does that. Don't beat yourself up.
Grass no greener. Rest of country similar to London but with addition of copious quantity of mud.
Count your blessings.
Wanna swap? We had 40 degree heat and too much humidity yesterday... and today it's 17 and raining. At least London has made up its mind to be consistent. ;-)
fwhijd: when Elmer Fudd gets really, really cold.
people who are AWARE of the futility of their New Year's resolutions
So, not deluded, then. Must be why I like the place so much.
:P
Anne: Thanks for reassuring me I'm not yet completely evil. At least, I'm not alone in my evil.
Beep: rest of country I happily include in my loathing. I'm comparing this dread abode to *real* places to live. Like Cape Town.
Demo: My second thought was, "at least they're not bragging about 'pictures!' like they usually do". There's not much of a story. Someone threw themselves in front of a train. It's not that unusual.
Prowl: yes, I wanna swap. I like heat. Not the humidity so much, and preferably not 40 degrees worth, but then, today you're cooling down! Who needs consistency?
Greg: not deluded, no, just depressing. Give me unfounded optimism any day.
deavf: too deaf to learn proper pronunciation.
I am currently going to gym once every 2-3 days. December, January, whatever. Starting from around the 6th of Jan it's been very busy in there. The eye-candy is nice, but could they just stand around instead of hogging the treadmills? Oh well, it will be back to normal in a month or two...
Scrivener, I agree with Anne. Everyone does that.
A friend of ours used to use the train to go visit his girlfriend on weekends. He was on the train when on two different occasions someone either suicided in front of the train, or was accidentally in front of the train at the wrong time.
We started teasing him that he rode the Death Train.
That 2nd time it happened, he called in on his cell to let everyone know he would be late for work! I think the suicide delayed the train from moving for 2 hours, and he was so close to being in town that he almost could have walked to the station in that time!
You're going to hate me, but I'm in Southern California, USA, and except for a bout of rain a week ago, it's been sunny and in the high 60's/low 70's (Fahrenheit... don't ask me to convert to C right now, it's late! :) ), and clear and sunny, with some occasional haziness high up in the sky.
January in California can often make you feel like Winter has just ended, not that it's still just beginning!
But we get alot of rain usually in February and March. And in my town, we get what we call "June Gloom", where the fog rolls in at the beginning of summer and sometimes stays for 80% of the rest of summer.
I try to ignore the sales. Or I try to use them to my advantage, and give gift certificates to places I know my loved ones like to shop.
The New Years resolutions can only be achievable if they are written out with deadlines on measurable milestones. Then progress can be tracked, instead of just having this *feeling* of not accomplishing them. A friend told me this, which is ironic, as that's how projects at work are accomplished. Why I can't generalize work methods to the real world...!!! :)
[Maybe because I'm not that great at figuring out milestones for work projects!!!]
Which reminds me... I haven't checked to see where I am, NY resolutions-wise! :)
Hang in there. Sorry London is all gray-gloom right now. :P
P.S. asjsziv: the sound your, uhm, bottom makes when you, 'er, aren't feeling so well.
I am *so* over this city
London says:
Oh yeah? You'll be back. You can't live without me. Where you gonna go, huh? Swindon? Please. I give you 10 days. You can't live without me. Look at these restaurants, etc.
Don't worry scroob - all the good cities are bastards. Or gay.
Oh please, like UK cities are all I have to choose from. Swindon, my ass. And you really want to impress me with the restaurants? Seriously? I *despise* London restaurants. Come to Cape Town or Jozi, I'll show you how to eat. [mutter mutter...]
Cape Town is definitely gay, though, I'll give you that.
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