On Feeling ANtique
It was bound to happen, a twenty-year-old American in Europe; over-drinking was inevitable. What could have been avoidable, though, was doing so the night before going to the largest antique market in London. So there I was, absolutely miserable at Alfie’s, the market I had so been looking forward to for the entire trip.
As I open my eyes the morning after having a bottle of José Cuervo Gold delivered to my door, I already know I screwed myself. I sit up and a force immediately strikes me in the head causing my mind and sight to start spinning. I peer over to the nearly empty bottle by my bed accompanied by the saran-wrapped limes and paper bag of salt I had taken from the family dinner the night before…
On Talking to Strangers
Owning a rubber chicken purse has a plethora of handy dandy advantages.
- It brightens up any outfit.
- It’s waterproof on rainy days and beer proof on rowdy nights.
- It makes kids smile.
- People are more likely to trust you.
- You are automatically a bad bitch, because you have the audacity to wear a rubber chicken purse.
- It is the perfect conversation starter.
Now, as a disclaimer, I already am a very outgoing person who loves to talk to anyone and everyone, but I can honestly say that bringing my chicken purse on the trip to London made my interactions with locals more frequent and sincere. Instead of being just another American tourist, I was that cool lady with the chicken purse…
On Saint Paul’s Cathedral
Walking up the spiral staircase between the Whisper and the Stone galleries in St. Paul Cathedral is delightfully meditative. I sit here on a bench-like outcropping on which I presume not many have sat. At six feet tall, even I had a hard time pushing myself up, using a stair to sort of launch myself. I might sit here for a bit and watch people make the trek up. I snuck a picture. Shh, don’t tell. It’s funny, I thought I could sit in the Whisper Gallery forever, but I’d rather stay here. Much more private. I just watched the rest of my classmates pass by. I feel like a gargoyle…
On What the OCean Means to Me
Everyone experiences the ocean differently, some are terrified of how vast and mysterious it is, while others feel the most at peace when able to breath in the salty air and hear the waves crash on the sand. Both of these feelings are completely understandable. The ocean is terrifying. With one giant wave it can consume you and spit you out like unsavory food. It contains sea creatures that are perfect killing machines, gobbling up their prey, which you could be mistaken for. However, despite this the ocean has a calm feeling as well. The crashes of the same waves that can trample you are relaxing to listen to. The marine animals are fascinating to study and awe-inspiring to see. Because of these opposing characteristics, the ocean perfectly embodies respect. You cannot be consumed by fear but must also be wary and respect its tremendous power…
Anwen Elspeth 