Waiting for Moby; No brothel; GBDB (Or, Bald men, unpopular men and the women who sleep with them)
Moby cancelled yesterday’s interview for ‘personal reasons’. The fact that it is noon there when it is 5pm here makes me think that reason was typical intellectualite wannabe DJ (i.e. ‘I am hungover.’)
Supposedly, the bald vegan will make contact with me on Thursday. If this were not a vaguely famous person, I would be all, ‘Oh hell to the naw.’
But since it is a vaguely famous person, and I am a shallow name-dropper, I will sit in anticipation by the phone and pretend to ask him serious questions about his current album, which is not as good as “Play,” which he will never live up to again.
I want to ask him if he just wanted to do a ‘fun’ album because he knows he will never live up to “Play” again, but I feel like that would not be appreciated, or at least not very cordial.
Also, last night, no brothel. But the reporter and even the creepy photog, who has a special place in his heart for the women of the night, said I missed nothing. Prostitution is legal in England, so since they were all there willingly, nothin’ doin’ on the news front. Or the exciting front. And no mention of transvestite Amy Winehouse lookalikes. So Spamalot was a good decision.
This morning I woke up at the crack of dawn and got lost in torrential rain London nowhere close to the scenic canal in Paddington where I needed to be, all to see Gordon Brown answer one question he had prepared a statement for. Because of my worthless efforts and the blisters on my feet from Prime Minister-appropriate heels, I have dubbed Brown GBDB. The first two letters are initials. The second two are an acronym.
My study abroad experience is bringing me to new heights in maturity.
Things I have learned:
-There is one nice person in London who gives excellent directions and will walk you to your destination without being creepy.
-Normally all of these qualities are mutually exclusive.
-Cobblestone + rain + miles + heels - youth = Still sucks.
Answers I still seek:
-Why is the author of Paddington Bear trying to make him political?
-Will I seem creepy at home when I stroll up to lost-looking people and drop my Louisvillian knowledge?
-When will I learn about heels?
Hobbling off,
Lindsey
