1. Apparently if I spend too much time by myself, not talking to anyone (not including incidental dialogue with waiters, bus drivers, and other people in the service industry) I start to lose all sense of social propriety. This became evident to me in a moment on the train back to London this evening when I turned to the nondescript person sitting across the aisle from me, opened my mouth and got as far as the actual intake of breath one experiences before speaking, before I finally snapped out of it and stopped myself. I had been THAT CLOSE to saying the following words: “Excuse me, are you a boy or a girl?” This is a true story.
2. After reading my very first Neil Gaiman book this weekend I am a little bit worried and a tad displeased. The name of the book is Neverwhere, and the name of my sort-of-book (read: non-book), for the last several years, has been… Nevermoor. Neverwhere (sort of) has a character called Arch. Nevermoor has a character called Arch. Most annoyingly, Nevermoor involves a secret city (sort of) underneath an existing city. Which is basically the storyline of Neverwhere, in a nutshell. Uh-oh.
3. Oh, exciting! When I was in Oxford I bought this seriously cool pink and red bicycle bell with flowers painted on it! It’s the coolest bicycle bell I’ve ever seen! I don’t own a bicycle of course. But does this in any way diminish my excitement? No sirreee!
4. Scene: Pickwick Guest House, my temporary Oxford home. 10am. I have just gotten out of the shower.
Knock knock.
I answer the door, wearing a towel, poking my head around the corner and perfectly aware that I have crazy post-shower fringe and it’s standing up like that scene in There’s Something About Mary. The owner of the B&B is standing outside with a handful of sheets and towels.
“Er – hi.”
“Oh hello there! I’m sorry, I’ve just come to change the linen.”
“Er – okay. I’m in a towel.”
“Oh, so you are. I see you’re still here then.”
“Er – yes.”
“Right. Well, what time were you planning to check out?”
“Um… what time is check-out?”
“Ten-thirty.”
“Well… I guess… ten-thirty?”
“Quite right. Of course. No problem.”
“…’kay… thanks, bye.”
5. Key difference between London and Oxford: in Oxford, people seem to always thank the bus driver as they disembark. It’s EXACTLY like Australia, except older and Englisher and in the northern hemisphere and completely different.
