London pt.5 - Tudor Rose & Shakespeare Prose

Walking a lot these days. Needed some time to just sit out and do nothing. Felt guilty I could do that at home. Told myself before I came to not do anything I could do at home. Thought how I couldn't sit feeling guilty like this at home. Felt clever finding a loophole.
Met up with Julie for a drink in Fulham. Some random Brit followed us around. His accent was so strong both of us took it in turns interpreting what he was saying to each other. The British don't open their mouth enough when they talk. Understandable they're self-conscious about their awful teeth but it's like talking to a ventriloquist who can't quite pull it off, at all. He kept talking to me about cricket and how Australian's have big ego's. He then went on to boast about how modest the British were. Thought the embroidery on his shirt was a tad queer.
Went to the Victoria & Albert. Wrote down instructions on how to get there off Google Maps. When I got to Collingwood Gardens and no V&A insight I regretted not scrolling down the page more. The only thing that saved me was my already naturally lost looking face looking quite lost. Just standing there was enough to prompt someone to ask where I was trying to get to and point me in the right direction.
Was walking around the affluent houses of south Kensington wondering how much I'd have to make before I could live there. The townhouses were stunning with some having their own private gardens. Didn't need any more incentive than that to finish uni. Now understood for the first time why my mother let me go on this trip at all.
The V&A is in a spectacular building. Amanda said it was worth seeing just for the architecture. It was pretty nice except the outside looked like it could use a bit of a wash down. You can never tell with marble whether it's supposed to be like that or not.
Once inside I didn't know where to start looking. There was a million connecting rooms to choose from. The corridor was filled with marble sculptures. Not their biggest fan. Although I would've been happier to have learnt how to do such a thing in my sculpture class at uni than what I did - nothing. My final piece of assessment was a house of cards. Unfortunately it turned out to be that literally so. The specifications were to use 50 objects same but different so they had to pass me at least. Wish my mind came up with a better idea than taking a packet of cards and throwing the jokers out.
There's a big courtyard and pond thing in the middle of the museum. I sat on the edge watching a school group of kids run in, splash about and obstruct my view of a hot guy who sat on the opposite edge. Brokenhearted after running into him again in the 18th Century French Antiques room with his boyfriend.
Went to the National Portrait Gallery. Sought out the Tudor paintings of Elizabeth I. Stared at them for a long while trying to imprint the images in my brain. Felt because I came so far to see something I had wanted to for so long I had to stand and appreciate every stroke. Thought this was a good time to have remembered my glasses.
Booked into seeing an Opera this Friday night. Wish Amanda asked me first. Booked into seeing Shakespeare next week. Really wished Amanda asked me first. Was nice of her to do but I'm going to die less than 10 minutes in, I can only hope.
I can't understand why Shakespeare is still going. 500 or so years since you would've thought we had done something just as good or better in a language we could understand. The same with anything really. The Mona Lisa has had its 15 minutes, move on.
On a two week Contemporary art tour of London next week. Hoping being around so many arty people for so long won't drive me insane. Being an artist we tend to over analyse things, people, anything, but mostly nothing.
Sick of hearing about Michael Jackson. Read in the news at least 12 die-hard fans suicided over his death. What I don't understand is that these are the people that follow him the most. They study his every move, his accomplishments, everything. You'd think out of anyone they'd come to know he was just a musician. Asked Amanda who now inherits his elephant man skeleton. She said she didn't know.
Think the BBC guy has a thing for the weather girl. No one can be that excited to hear about London's weather.