Sunday, May 22nd, 2005
at 1:58 p.m.
Don't you hate that universal law that dictates that when you look absolutely horrid you run into the last people you want to see? For example, if you're just going to run errands and think that no one will possible see you because you'll only be out for a little while, but you run into a unnaturally high proportion of people you know? And of course they're always people that you like and don't want to look like shit for?
I think you can deduce that this has recently happened to me. I was just going down to the high street (Richmond that is--I'm in summer school, and it's on the other campus, so I'm not in Kensington at the moment) to buy some books and school supplies. I just threw on some peony-colored khakis, a black top, and my gap denim jacket. It sounds okay, but these clothes have all definitely seen better days, and could probably fit better too. Oh, and my hair was slightly greasy and so it was pushed back in a messy pony-tail. No makeup. All in all I looked like a very haggard, very ghostly yuppie wannabe.
SO who do I run into? First I ran into people from my class, but that wasn't as bad because I see them everyday, and therefore have plenty of opportunity to see me looking more human. But then I ran into my former roommate, who is Vogue personified. And she looked so, so polished and put-together. I wanted to sink into the ground. But again, at least she is doing summer session, so I have the opportunity to see her again. I haven't so far, and also I run the risk of seeing her once more, but at another weak moment. But the worse by far was when I ran into my former co-worker, Holly. She is very pretty and also always put together. But what made it so bad was that I ran into her near Covent Garden last semester in front of her uni, King's College (we run into each other a lot for London!). And guess what?? I looked really really horrid that day too! I had a very bad cold and we had to go to the Courtauld Galleries in Somerset House for class, so I just dressed for comfort. I would have pretended I didn't see her, except that I really like her, we were good friends when we worked together. So she got my phone number, and I was happy cause then I could get dressed up and look presentable, and she wouldn't have this mental image of some hag in her mind associated with me. But she never called. I figured I either looked even worse than I'd remembered, or she'd forgotten.
When I ran into her yesterday it turned out that she had lost her phone on that very same day. So here was my chance, given to me my providence, for me to look nice for once in her presence, but I totally squandered it. From now on I am not leaving the Richmond bubble without putting in an effort. Not even if I just need to go batteries, because now I know what happens when you let your guard down, even for an hour! I know that if there'd been an ex-boyfriend around here that I didn't want to see, that I'd run into him as well, guaranteed.
I know other people have had this experience too. It's not just me, right?
I had another notable experience last night, but this one actually is much more sober. I was walking up Richmond Hill Terrace from a movie (The Jacket unique and strange, but good). Suddenly a guy about my age went racing past me, tracked by three other guys the same age. The three persuers tackled him to the ground and then just started going at his face with their fists and shoes, as hard as they could, it seemed. For a second it didn't process; I've seen that kind of violence in the movies, but not in person, right in front of me. Also, plenty of people were around, but they were studiously averting their eyes and walking on.
Well I've read plenty of accounts of people who have died because the no one from the crowds around had intervened. Also, maybe I was shocked into it: I shouted at them that I was calling the police, so that they might scatter, but I don't even think they heard me. So I actually dialed 999 (Britain's 911). I've never had to do that before, I was quite shaken. Meanwhile they kept kicking him in the ribs and punching him in the face, even as I repeated that I was on the phone with 999. Then a girl I'm guessing was the vicitm's girlfriend ran down and kept trying to pull them off him but they just shook her off. She kept screaming "Call the police!" and even though I was about 10 feet from her and kept replying, "I'm on with them now," she just kept screaming it repeatedly. I guess she wasn't really hearing me either. Finally the police arrived, but even then they were still attacking the guy, but not as viciously as before. It still took some cops to pull them apart though, and meanwhile I gave my statement to another officer on the side. I left just as the ambulance arrived.
It was just so strange because I never expect to see something like that on the street, especially not on Richmond Hill! I guess people can lose it anywhere though.
I wonder what he did to warrant such a brutal attack, apparently by three guys who seemed to know him. An added weird element was this older guy in a suit was involved too, running down the street yelling at them not to hurt him, but when I was on the phone he told me to hang up--the guy was fine--and he dragged the kid on the ground up and across the street. But then he dumped him down again and he kicked him too, before the other three went at it again! So was he just saying not to hurt him so that I would be appeased and hang up with the cops, just so they could continue in their attack uninhibited? So bizarre.
So, I go home four weeks from yesterday. A year ago I was home in 10 days from today. I'm rather ready to go back to San Francisco now, and I'll definitely be even more ready on June 1st. Unfortunately in 10 days from now I'll only be even more of the thick of things. . .
So far I'm enjoying my biology class; it's very history-major friendly, since it's multidisciplinary: biology and history. My creative writing class, which was supposed to be my vacation, is turning out to be a bit more trying. The people in it just make me want to hurt myself. I realise that makes me sound horrible, but my friend Angelique in that class supports this. We were commiserating in our bio class, so it's not just me! They're just sooo obnoxious, and. . . not really meant to write poetry maybe. Or at least not to read it in public. For example, this is a common example of the type I hear every day:
I miss you like the desert misses the rain. Like the knight misses his sword. I love you like a mother loves her son, like a baby loves his bottle.
What??? I don't know about anyone else, but bad poetry is the worst.
I'm not saying that I'm any great poet either, but come on people, at least try to steer clear from such cliches!!!
Now I remember why Sundays depressed me in high school. It's homework day! And I definitely have some to do, so I should get to that. Tata!
What song is playing on my iTunes right now: What I'm reading: What I'm Wearing: Back to anecdotal journalism again! - Tuesday, May 1st, 2007
Red Hot Chili Peppers Universally Speaking
A History of the Life Sciences for my Bio class
knee-length white prairie-style skirt, brown braided leather belt, pale turquoise tee.
Plan? - Monday, Jun. 19, 2006
FINALLY things are going better!
(This month redefined my understanding of stress and 'hell') - Monday, April 24th, 2006
Just a few more days! - Monday, February 27th, 2006
Another one to chalk up to College Experiences - Sunday, February 12th, 2006