Sunday, October 12, 2008

Best Cheeseburger Ever and Being Spontaneous

The past few days proved to be quite eventful. Wednesday night I had been suffering from a bout of boredom/homesickness, but I was hella tired, so it wasn't a surprise. Thursday night was more fun because we watched the first three episodes of Blackadder Goes Forth, a delightfully funny sitcom from the 80s which I'm glad to have seen. We finished with the other three episodes on Friday night. I really want to see the rest of the Blackadder volumes, specifically the one with Miranda Richardson. Also, following the episodes of Blackadder, Katie produced an infernal copy of Beowulf ... and not the Zemeckis version. It was a 1999 movie with Christopher Lambert of Mortal Kombat and Highlander fame, and also Rhona Mitra, among other unknowns. It was a weird sort of postmodern deal that was more fantasy/sci-fi with Matrix-like fight scenes than adept adaptation of the epic poem. There was a Will, a Carl, and a Roland in the film as well, and Hrothgar wore jeans at one point. Also, Grendel's mother was definitely a porn actress. We suspect this film itself was a thrown-out script for a softcore porn film, and it just happened to get tinkered with and made as the film I saw. Either way, I'll be seeing it again when I'm back in Chicago ... paired with Zombie Strippers, another film recommended to me by Katie, who said it's at least worth one or two viewings for its sheer awfulness. My tastes in film have been corrupted at the U of C! I point the finger at one whose initials are CKG!


So here in London we have Fridays off from classes. I am a fan of this. A group of us wandered around looking at consignment shops in Chelsea, which basically means designer clothing priced 60 pounds less than it was when the original buyer paid for it --> still way out of our price range. Afterward we headed over to the Borough Market, which is perhaps my favorite place to get food in London now. We strolled by the stands containing vegetables and fruits and past the tables of pastries and cookies and pies. The overwhelming selection and need to sample every piece of cheese offered kept us there for two hours as we pondered the wine selections, stared at a pig's head at a meat counter, sampled some venison and pork, and took in the wonderful food scents.


After a once-over of the place, I decided it was time to settle upon an actual bit of food for dinner, so I strolled back to the Northfield Farm stand which I had my eye on earlier. 4 pounds for a beef, lamb, or pork burger. As someone who hasn't been a fan of cooking meat at all since I arrived in London, it was a nice idea to get a little meat in my diet rather than my protein-packed beans of late. So I placed my order for a beef burger and paid over the 4 gold one-pound coins and received what I would deem, within minutes, to be the best cheeseburger I'd ever consumed in my whole entire life. Nothing has ever compared to the deliciousness of this burger. The beef was not a patty but rather chunks of beef that were placed on the bun, and then stilton cheese was added. I squirted ketchup on and took a bite. It was heaven indeed. My feeling is that everyone I know should be told of this delicious find and brought to London simply for the consumption of one of these burgers. It's something not to be missed out on in this life.


Juliet: Banoffee pie?
Mark: Eghh, no, thanks.
Juliet: Thank god ... you would've broken my heart if ya said yes.
Mark: Wellll, lucky you.

I also had a slice of banoffee pie. Can't pass up a Love Actually reference.

So then yesterday, Saturday, Margaret and Lisbeth and I met up. Where? you ask. At the Borough Market, of course! More money to spend. Margaret had not been yet and was fascinated by all the foodie options. We took her around for a quick look and she and Lisbeth settled on a meat pie - not pussycat or priest or royal marine, but plain old lamb. I bee-lined for the fish and chips, but just got the chips because adding the fish is just too expensive. And besides, the portions you receive with side orders here are enough that you're not hungry for more food. I also found the cheapest can of Coke Zero in London so far at 80 pence. We lunched on the Southbank along the Thames and then returned to find dessert. They picked out ice cream but I found myself a double chocolate cherry muffin. Unfortunately the cherry part was somewhat lacking, but it was still a treat!

We parted with Margaret then as she's been a bit sick and we decided it was time to head back to the dorm, but we decided to walk back along the water, which took an hour and a half on account of photo opportunities. Though, I did pick up my tickets from the BFI Southbank as I purchased a ticket to see Frost/Nixon at the London Film Festival next Saturday, and also a ticket for Rachel Getting Married from the festival. It'll be my very first film festival experience. Granted, I didn't get a premiere ticket, but you never know who might show up. Though, when I say that I mean Alan Rickman, and I'm sure he is a member and has perfect seats for any show and any premiere, and not a 12:30 afternoon ticket that is not a premiere. But oh well. Either way, I get to see Frost/Nixon and that film WAS a sold-out engagement for a while, so I got lucky. Alas, not enough to nab a ticket for Quantum of Solace ... though I still plan to try the queue. I'm going to that premiere just so I can stand along the red carpet and see Daniel Craig arrive. Hello blue eyes, and I don't mean Frank Sinatra!

And now I come to the truly thrilling part of my weekend ... why spontaneous decisions earn great rewards....

Yesterday, while Lisbeth and I were walking along the Southbank to meet up with Margaret, I needed to make an emergency bathroom break stop, so Lisbeth said the National Theatre is a good place to sneak into. So we went in looking for the toilets, and while passing through the lobby, we spotted a poster of Ralph Fiennes for a production of Oedipus. I was not aware that he was appearing in any productions, and I assumed it was for some time later in the season when I would not be in London. However, after I used the bathroom we inquired at the box office and the lady told us the play was actually just beginning previews and two tickets for the center stalls had been returned for that night's performance!!!! Lisbeth and I sort of looked at each other in a "Are you doing the exchange rate math in your head right now and chickening out, or are you going to say 'To hell with frugality, let's see Ralph Fiennes live!'?" These tickets are usually 41 pounds, which is like $73, but because they were returns, they were only 28 pounds, which turned out be only $50. I really couldn't pass that up, so I basically swore off paying for pricey tickets for David Tennant in Hamlet. And I decided on getting a standing room ticket for Rickman's play Creditors instead of anything more pricey. And as Lisbeth said, I'll live off tinned carrots for the rest of my time here if it means I will enjoy spending money on entertainment tickets. My ways of not feeling guilty for spending money on stuff!

So we spontaneously pulled out the plastic and got our tickets to see Ralph Fiennes. We returned to the theater later last night, and I must say, the production was amazing. The seats: they were the very center and were just nine rows back from the stage. PERFECTION! Ralph Fiennes: Absolute commanding performance and, since this was the second play I've seen in a week where the lead actor must throw himself to the ground due to some personal agony, I have to say that Fiennes is so much more convincing than Branagh! Nothing personal but Voldemort beats Lockhart anyday. There is something about Ralph Fiennes' movement and the way you just HAVE to stare at him in a scene. And you really feel the performance in his voice too. And beyond that, the play itself was interesting to see. My familiarity with Oedipus has always been through colourful Freud and not the original story. If you know Freud, you know everything is about the Oedipus complex. If you read a story and someone loses their hands, it's actually a reference to Oedipus gouging out his eyes and is therefore symbolic that the character who loses his hands has an Oedipus complex and something funny must be going on with his father and mother. Just look for it. Right? Whatever. Point is, it was nice to see the source of the twisted Freudian version which somehow found its way into literary theory!


Oh yeah, and being so darn impressed with Ralph Fiennes, we totally waited at the stage door after the play for just over an hour, and I now have his autograph in my programme as well as the satisfaction of being able to say that I stood in the presence of Voldemort and have lived to tell the tale. Ugghh, but I really should block out the Harry Potter bit - I feel like I do him a disservice to be more concerned with Voldemort than Eodipus! But how does one convey one's appreciation for his work when he basically makes one stammeringly speechless? Other than thanking him for the autograph, I managed to say this: "I didn't want to mention Harry Potter too much, but, I'm a fan." Oi. He probably has heard that two-thousand, one-hundred, fifty-eight times. Or thereabouts. Perhaps this was just preparation for the day when I might meet Alan Rickman; so that I will not make a fool of myself in front of him and instead portray myself as a calm and worldly person who is not a drooling fangirl.

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