I turned off the alarm when I should’ve pressed snooze. That’s the one disadvantage with turning up the A/C and having warm blankets; you want to sleep and be warn, but you don’t want to step into the cold. I was having some dream where I was laughing, but then I snapped out of it, jumped out of bed, and ran to the nearest tube station. I barely got to the badminton by nine-ish, and the first matches had just started. At least I got a good little half mile jaunt in running from the train to the venue. I haven’t exercised all trip, and now I’m wondering how you would exercise around here because I have no idea how you fit a gym in this city. All the men’s doubles were on. First it was China v. China, which was good because China lost, and then Malaysia beat Thailand. Long story short, the doubles was absolutely amazing, even thought it was just four matches and then the session was over. They must be making a fortune on ticket sales. We estimated they’re making about $13 million in ticket sales on badminton alone. I’d like to know the real number is. We walked down Picadilly street for the first time, which has little alley way off shorts from the street which have red carpets and 4 kinds of shops; jewelry, bags, shoes, and watches. I don’t know how those places stay in business, because for one; there was no one there buying, and two; there were literally 10-15 of each type of store side by side. We wondered what the one security guard would do if we all started running down the alley after saying “I got the goods.” British popo are unarmed. We stopped for lunch/breakfast and a French looking place with awesome looking pastries in the window. The others ordered Eggs Benedict, and I ordered a ham and cheese omelet because I have yet had breakfast/we all hadn’t. The French native waitress brought out three eggs benedict, and I was confused and checked with her that I ordered a ham and cheese omelet. I said, “Iordered a ham and cheese omelet,” and she smiled and nodded, saying “yes, okay. I will change this,” or something like that, and took my plate back. I’ve noticed a pattern with the people here in that they are very stubborn; and it’s not so good. No one will ever say “I don’t know.” The British are a proud people, and that does not help them. The first instance we got was in asking directions for places about a week ago. Most people give good friendly adcive, but when they don’t know, they still smile and point and give it their best shot, which has sent us in the wrong direction a few times because they acted like they know what they were talking about. You have to ask direct questions to make sure you aren’t being pleasantly dismissed. The best run-in was when dad asked a guy, “Do you know what street this is?” “Yes, sir.” (pause) “great… could you tell me what street this is?” “I don’t know what street this is.” He replied with a smile. It was a city worker, too, where his job is to help guide and direct traffic. You think he’d at least know by now. So then the French waitress brought me back my new grilled cheese sand—“Excuse me, um, I didn’t order a grilled cheese sandwich. (it was one thin slice of cheese between bread) I had a ham and cheese omelet; ham and cheese omelet… with eggs.” She looked confused, like she had not nodded and smiled before and said “I will have that ready for you” …twice. Another guy swooped in to change out the plate and rescue the situation. I felt bad. I’m pretty sure I didn’t slur my speech or anything, but I just don’t think she was listening that hard. Anyways, it was a good omelet, and ended up being free (score!).
We checked out a museum which displayed some USA guy’s collection of 18th-19th century French Impressionist art, but didn’t get tickets to see the full exhibit; just the free parts. On the way out I’d finish a drink, and for about the tenth time this trip I’d had lots of trash cans around, finished the drink, and then had no trash cans around; quite frustrating. The British take a very preventative approach to keeping trash/garbage/litter/rubbish down in the city—there are no garbage cans. I mean, there’s a few, but way less than you’d want. It’s like people have learned that there are no garbage cans around, so they don’t take any waste with them onto the streets because they won’t be able to throw it away.
Buckingham Place. USA house. Expensive. Grey and orange. Downstairs cheap. Badminton. India is going to be good. Chen jin went down. Would love to see chen long get knocked out next. Peter gade’s last game. Most interesting thing of the night was lind dan’s tattoos. Cross and words. CANADA! “that’s my sister!” there will be spells of sunshine and a scashing of rain. That’s what the pessimistic weather man said before I fell asleep. Spells of sunshine… spells of shunsine. Must have said that same phrase about 10 times, like it was a technical term.
Next Day>>
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Thursday, 2nd
I turned off the alarm when I should’ve pressed snooze. That’s the one disadvantage with turning up the A/C and having warm blankets; you want to sleep and be warn, but you don’t want to step into the cold. I was having some dream where I was laughing, but then I snapped out of it, jumped out of bed, and ran to the nearest tube station. I barely got to the badminton by nine-ish, and the first matches had just started. At least I got a good little half mile jaunt in running from the train to the venue. I haven’t exercised all trip, and now I’m wondering how you would exercise around here because I have no idea how you fit a gym in this city. All the men’s doubles were on. First it was China v. China, which was good because China lost, and then Malaysia beat Thailand. Long story short, the doubles was absolutely amazing, even thought it was just four matches and then the session was over. They must be making a fortune on ticket sales. We estimated they’re making about $13 million in ticket sales on badminton alone. I’d like to know the real number is. We walked down Picadilly street for the first time, which has little alley way off shorts from the street which have red carpets and 4 kinds of shops; jewelry, bags, shoes, and watches. I don’t know how those places stay in business, because for one; there was no one there buying, and two; there were literally 10-15 of each type of store side by side. We wondered what the one security guard would do if we all started running down the alley after saying “I got the goods.” British popo are unarmed. We stopped for lunch/breakfast and a French looking place with awesome looking pastries in the window. The others ordered Eggs Benedict, and I ordered a ham and cheese omelet because I have yet had breakfast/we all hadn’t. The French native waitress brought out three eggs benedict, and I was confused and checked with her that I ordered a ham and cheese omelet. I said, “Iordered a ham and cheese omelet,” and she smiled and nodded, saying “yes, okay. I will change this,” or something like that, and took my plate back. I’ve noticed a pattern with the people here in that they are very stubborn; and it’s not so good. No one will ever say “I don’t know.” The British are a proud people, and that does not help them. The first instance we got was in asking directions for places about a week ago. Most people give good friendly adcive, but when they don’t know, they still smile and point and give it their best shot, which has sent us in the wrong direction a few times because they acted like they know what they were talking about. You have to ask direct questions to make sure you aren’t being pleasantly dismissed. The best run-in was when dad asked a guy, “Do you know what street this is?” “Yes, sir.” (pause) “great… could you tell me what street this is?” “I don’t know what street this is.” He replied with a smile. It was a city worker, too, where his job is to help guide and direct traffic. You think he’d at least know by now. So then the French waitress brought me back my new grilled cheese sand—“Excuse me, um, I didn’t order a grilled cheese sandwich. (it was one thin slice of cheese between bread) I had a ham and cheese omelet; ham and cheese omelet… with eggs.” She looked confused, like she had not nodded and smiled before and said “I will have that ready for you” …twice. Another guy swooped in to change out the plate and rescue the situation. I felt bad. I’m pretty sure I didn’t slur my speech or anything, but I just don’t think she was listening that hard. Anyways, it was a good omelet, and ended up being free (score!).
We checked out a museum which displayed some USA guy’s collection of 18th-19th century French Impressionist art, but didn’t get tickets to see the full exhibit; just the free parts. On the way out I’d finish a drink, and for about the tenth time this trip I’d had lots of trash cans around, finished the drink, and then had no trash cans around; quite frustrating. The British take a very preventative approach to keeping trash/garbage/litter/rubbish down in the city—there are no garbage cans. I mean, there’s a few, but way less than you’d want. It’s like people have learned that there are no garbage cans around, so they don’t take any waste with them onto the streets because they won’t be able to throw it away.
Buckingham Place. USA house. Expensive. Grey and orange. Downstairs cheap. Badminton. India is going to be good. Chen jin went down. Would love to see chen long get knocked out next. Peter gade’s last game. Most interesting thing of the night was lind dan’s tattoos. Cross and words. CANADA! “that’s my sister!” there will be spells of sunshine and a scashing of rain. That’s what the pessimistic weather man said before I fell asleep. Spells of sunshine… spells of shunsine. Must have said that same phrase about 10 times, like it was a technical term.
Next Day>>
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