Internet access? Check! (Finally...)

I'm feelin' pretty good about this moving stuff now...almost.

I finally (!) have Internet access in my flat as of yesterday. I can't tell you how good of a feeling it is to be plugged in again to modern society. While admittedly, it was pretty awesome to work at the British Libary, the only place I found with free wi-fi in London (save for Starbucks, which I personally boycott), it was getting pricey taking the tube each day. The other bummer is that I only found out about the wireless resource last week. Sigh.
Nonetheless, the library is absolutely huge, with children's field trips wondering through on an hourly basis. Zagat calls it "a 'bibliophile's dream' which is one of the capital's 'hidden gems' and therefore 'not particularly busy.'" It's true, too. Not-exactly-hidden next to cool-o King's Cross/St. Pancras (which rises like Sleeping Beauty's castle in the background), on the day I snapped this pic, the weather was absolutely gorgeous, with a Carolina blue sky, yet surprisingly, the courtyard wasn't overflowing with businesspeople eating lunch in the sunshine.
The second floor provides a wide pathway lined with chairs for folks to power up laptops and work away. Dimly lit and quiet with a three-floor wall of books across, it's a perfect refuge in which to send off CVs and search for employment, which is my job only right now. Sigh...

Of course, even with the search for work, one must enjoy the sights of this amazing city. On Friday, Steve and I trekked downtown (which is a word that does not exist in his vernacular for Central London -- "it's just 'town,'" he told me, rolling his eyes). While we were not to step foot in Leicester Square, for fear that he'd turn to stone being with all of those (a-hem!) tourists, we did take a stop at two of my favorite city places, first stopping at Gordon's Wine Bar. I love this place. It's cave-like, offers some of the best wines ev-ah, and boasts all sorts of old newspaper clippings in frames decorating the walls. Steve said he didn't believe they were real. I begged to differ. "Look at the crease in the middle of the paper," I defended. "Of course it's authentic!"
"Now really," he reasoned, "if one were to make a reproduction of a newspaper, of course one would photoshop in a crease for it to appear genuine..." Meh.

After Gordon's, we walked down past Trafalgar to my other fun nightspot, The International. This is the place that Tracy and I hunted desperately for during the entirety of our first trip to London in May 2006, after randomly discovering it the first night of our arrival. The reason we were unable to find it? We were mistakenly told that it was called Metropolitan. Humph. Thus, every time we'd ask, "Do you know where Metropolitan is? We want to go there again!" the response was always, "Um, no -- never heard of it." The last night of that trip we coincidentally fell upon it with some locals. It was then that I learned a very important lesson: When traveling, should you come across a place you really enjoy, take a picture of the outside and its name. Sigh.

Anywho, The International boasts one of the best (read: most American) martinis that I've ever found in this city. Hooray! Added to that is its impressive Pimms drinks, served with a veritable buffet of food in the cocktail itself. Seriously. It's a cocktailer's dream.

Saturday was spent in Clapham at The Avalon for Ruth's birthday celebration. The champagne was flowing at her table and everyone was enjoying the company and the fun surroundings, which included a chain chandelier that I believe was to be in the spirit of King Arthur...Good times.

Now back to work and finding a job. Thankfully, my new sofabed will be delivered tomorrow morning, between (yikes!) 7-9 a.m. I'm oh-so-looking forward to it, as sitting on an air mattress in my front room seems incredibly Bohemian...and not in a good way.

And the ten boxes of my stuff (clothes, kitchenware, shoes)? Still not to be delivered until 27th October...if then. Argh. Five pairs of shoes is just not enough for a month's time. This rots and I desperately want to be reunited with my 78 pairs of shoe friends...