<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425</id><updated>2011-11-27T17:06:58.841-08:00</updated><category term='Pubs'/><category term='Pig&apos;s trotter'/><category term='Amsterdam'/><category term='Jameson'/><category term='Living the dream'/><category term='Leaving'/><category term='Netflix'/><category term='Dublin'/><category term='Windsor'/><category term='No Sleep'/><category term='Sparklers'/><category term='Club Sandwich'/><category term='London'/><category term='Bacon'/><category term='Stavros'/><category term='Turkey'/><category term='Seattle'/><category term='Stonehenge'/><category term='American Football'/><category term='Annoying Welsh'/><category term='Surprisingly Beautiful City'/><category term='Paris'/><category term='Dead People'/><category term='Food'/><category term='Bond James Bond'/><category term='Bourdain'/><category term='Obama'/><category term='Ahnold'/><category term='Movies'/><category term='Bath'/><category term='Fries'/><category term='Football'/><category term='Procrastination'/><category term='The Keys'/><category term='Media'/><category term='Sadness'/><category term='Guinness'/><title type='text'>The Dark Streets of London</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-7983794948946753958</id><published>2009-07-01T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T12:23:14.245-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Football'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dead People'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><title type='text'>The Media</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:110;"&gt;The past two weeks have seen a number of important to not so important events occur.  I've been thinking about how some of these events have shown how we get our news is slowly moving away from the main stream media (MSM) domination.  New media is getting the scoop on the MSM.  In some cases, the MSM has to rely solely on information from the new media.  I've chosen the events below to try and make some sense of what is happening to how we get our news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most obvious example is the Iranian election.  This story was made by the new media.  It is not the first such occurrence, but it is one of the most important and probably the largest.  Coverage for at least the first 48 or so hours seemed to be only on the Internet.  &lt;a href="http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/the_daily_dish/"&gt;Andrew Sullivan&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/"&gt;The Huffington Post&lt;/a&gt; both had excellent coverage, as did the New York Times' news blog, &lt;a href="http://thelede.blogs.nytimes.com/"&gt;The Lede&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All did a very effective job at summing up all the information coming out of Iran, which was mostly conveyed over social networks with Twitter leading the way. Not many people have the time and patience to sort through all the tweets from various Iranians.  This is even more true when the Iranian government took the dissemination of misinformation to a new level and made their own Twitter accounts. A regular person will not sit there and try to figure out which information is true and which is planted.  This is where the blogs stepped in.  The blogs effectively did the jobs that CNN or MSNBC or Fox were supposed to be doing. They took the raw news data and made sense of it for the masses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The masses also had access to the raw news data, if they were wanted it.  This is what I think was one of the most interesting aspects to come out of the events.  I wasn't on Twitter when the attacks on India occurred last year, so this was my first time experiencing something like this.  It was gripping, to say the least, to see a wave of new tweets come in.  I knew that I was among the first people to hear about certain developments and I knew that some tweets were almost real time.  Twitter provides a level of connection across the world that is unprecedented.  It also allows for each person to form an opinion on current events, instead of being told what to think.  Extremely important leap forward.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another interesting aspect is the cyber warfare that was going on.  The Iranian government soon found out about the information getting out of the country and did what every good authoritarian regime does and attempted to shut down communication.  Phone lines, cell phones, and the Internet all had limited access.  When people outside of Iran provided the people of Iran proxies so they still had Internet access, they would shut down the proxies.  Of course, more and more proxies popped up.  When the government started to shut down Iranian reformist websites, pleas went out over Twitter to attack the government electronically.  DoS attacks were launched on a variety of government and pro-government sites.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Twitter gives us raw data, it keeps people connected to organize and it allows for people across the globe to participate in historic events.  This is absolutely incredible.  What if Twitter was around for the 2000/2004 stolen elections?  Or the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago?  Or Tiananmen Square?  Countless examples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, blogs and online news sites with little, if any, traditional resources outdid cable news and newspapers.  Newspapers are dying, their staff and resources have been cut, so it's of little surprise that they were outdone.  But cable news, with all their profit and fancy graphics and huge amounts of resources, ultimately failed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why the continuing ascension of new media is imperative.  With the steady demise of newspapers, there needs to be another form of news dissemination. Otherwise, even more people will get their news from local and cable news.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem with that, of course, is that cable news sucks.  This was done to death, so I've just picked out a few examples to show what was happening on these stations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the weekend, when the #cnnfail hashtag was at its height:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;CNN was showing a repeat of Larry King’s interview of the stars of the “American Chopper” show.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the morning of Monday June 15th:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"...I turned on cable news this morning, and saw endless ads for a Larry King Jonas Brothers "interview," Morning Joe yuking it up discussing Kuwaiti massage therapists, a video of a tomato throwing contest on CNN...&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Middle of the day on the 15th while there are huge protests and crackdowns, about CNN:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;...you hear a simple statement from the anchor that Mousavi lost the election and telling us to wait for the official results in 10 day's time...&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Infinite examples are out there, no need for me to put any more.  Basically, massive news fail.  Eventually the networks grudgingly started some half-assed coverage of Iran.  I'm sure the execs and shareholders were waiting for some other news story...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm sure they're very happy that four very-famous to why-is-he-famous people died.  Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson and Billy Mays all died within several days of one another.  This gave cable the excuse to stop with all that boring Iran stuff and cover something really worthwhile.  Even then, they all got scooped on the Michael Jackson situation by TMZ.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These deaths allowed cable news the opportunity to again start covering people that look like us (well, except for Michael) and speak our language.  No more of those people that look odd and speak some sort of gibberish.  I'm not sure on the exact statistics, but ratings went up at least 200% for Fox, CNN and MSNBC.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we all are, of course, shaped by the culture we grew up in.  A culture that has largely been shaped by values and goals largely seen as being "American."  Something the MSM has helped to push ever since they switched from being a news center to being a profit center.  So, it was inevitable, but no less sickening, that as the news of Michael Jackson's hospitalization and subsequent death spread, it took over Twitter also.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#Iran and #iranelection had been at the top of Twitter's Trending Topics (TTT) for almost two weeks and all of a sudden they were completely off the list.  Full of Michael Jackson, MJ, RIP MJ and various song and album titles.  I remember a couple of Iranian tweeters, having finally awoken, posting what was essentially a "WTF" reaction.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So both mediums have the weakness of being taken over by what is more "popular" news.  The huge difference is that MSM tells you what is popular and Twitter is driven solely by it's users.  Ultimately, we control what is most popular.  As the grip on news by the MSM is weakened, perhaps the sensationalist/celebrity "news" will grow a bit stale.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another example of the possible power that the online community now has could perhaps be seen in the performance of the United States Men's National Team (USMNT) in FIFA's Confederations Cup.  Football, as it will be called in this blog, is not very popular in these United States, as the MSM is quick to point out whenever it gets the chance.  It will never ever catch on, it's boring, there's no scoring, blah blah blah.  This is what the MSM has been telling us as far back as I can remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick history lesson.  In the 1950 World Cup, we beat England.  Then fell of the face of the football globe for 40 years until we finally qualified for the Cup again in 1990.  Since then, the program has made great strides.  The US qualified for four more World Cups (with a fifth imminent); they beat number one ranked Brazil in the 1998 Gold Cup; they made an improbable run to the quarterfinals in the 2002 World Cup, beating Portugal and Mexico before falling to Germany 1-0.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, the 2009 Confederations Cup.  Having played like utter crap the first two games, I think the team had to be somewhat taken aback with the outrage and criticism coming at them from the Internet.  When had the USMNT program ever been under any sort of media pressure?  Never. The MSM only writes standard fluff pieces about a match, no sort of analysis or critique.  US Soccer had been free to run the program however they saw fit with no questions asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, blogs and online columnists were ripping the organization and players.  Bradley's head was being called for.  There was actual pressure on the team to succeed, because guess what, people in the States care about football.  So what happened?  They responded by thrashing Egypt 3-0 and thanks to a Dossena own goal, Brazil beat Italy to send the US into a match against number one ranked Spain.  Which, we all know, they somehow beat 2-0 to get to their first ever FIFA senior level tournament final.  A devastating 3-2 loss to Brazil in the final hurt, but it showed how much football as grown. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is of course merely speculation, but I think it's entirely possible that again the blogs took the place of the MSM.  The majority of the team has come of age in the Internet age, so they are wired like most of us under 30.  I know of at least four players that have Twitter accounts.  It's hard to think you're doing a bad job if no one ever told you.  The MSM never told them they were sucking because the MSM never talked about them.  Maybe the blogger's comments finally got it into the player's heads that their recent performances were not acceptable.  Bradley even seemed like he knew what he was doing for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In direct contrast to the coverage of Iran comes the coverage of the Honduran coup.  As you might say, what coverage?  Whereas the new media excelled in picking up the ball dropped by the MSM in Iran, it has not done so in Honduras.  A democratic government has been ousted by the military, people are protesting in the streets.  At the very least, a bit similar to the Iran situation.  The Huffington Post and Andrew Sullivan have a few posts, but it seems that The Lede has none.  Why is this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe the difference is that Iran's young people are an extremely wired bunch. I saw somewhere that Iran had the third most bloggers in the world.  They had readily available Internet access, to tweet, blog, Facebook, whatever.  I imagine Honduras is not quite the same.  We were being told what was happening in Iran as it happened, the people let us know.  It has not been the same for Honduras, unfortunately.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where the new media excels in using it's limited resources and collecting raw data it fails when there is little to no raw data.  At this point, it's up to the MSM with their wealth and overseas correspondents to get the story and present it to us.  But of course, they won't, because dead celebrities are more important.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what to think of all of this?  Unfortunately, cable news is still how most Americans get their news.  They dictate what news people see and hear about.  And because they care about ratings and profit margins, more often than not, the stories are crap.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an alternative to cable, most people used to go to the newspapers.  But, the traditional, national, powerhouse papers are dying.  They will never again be able to compete like they're used to. Papers might have to become more localized and get their national and international news only from wire services, instead of having correspondents all over the globe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the newspapers fail, the new media needs to become that alternative to cable.  Twitter and bloggers have proved how important and how effective they can be.  However, they have also shown they are still prone to crap news stories.  They don't have resources to pick up news from countries that aren't that well wired.  New media is still in it's infancy though and something will happen to make up for these faults and others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of utmost importance is that news is becoming a two-way street.  Instead of us being told what is happening and what to think about it, or even being told what to care about, we have shown that we can ingest news straight from the source and form our own opinions.  We can now tell the MSM what is important and what we want covered.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cable's dominance will probably not end anytime soon, but I believe as the generations growing up in the Internet age begin to grow older, cable news' influence will fall.  No one thought a 24 hour news network would work, but CNN started the slow death of the newspapers.  Just the same, new media has its detractors.  As the population turnover continues, TV in it's current form will eventually seem as obsolete as newspapers do now.  New media still has a ways to go.  The gap between the MSM and new media is still great.  Asked a few weeks ago, I would've said the gap was next to insurmountable.  Then, the new media stepped up and proved it's worth.  I can now envision a end to the MSM as we see it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-7983794948946753958?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/7983794948946753958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=7983794948946753958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/7983794948946753958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/7983794948946753958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2009/07/media.html' title='The Media'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-7071091287768609649</id><published>2009-06-13T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T23:09:32.794-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ahnold'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Netflix'/><title type='text'>Netflix Reviews</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:110;"  &gt;So, I've decided to review my Netflix rentals every now and then, because my opinion is very important.  These aren't going to be in depth, pages long reviews.  Those are boring.  No one except the geekiest of film geeks reads those.  If anyone reads a film review, they basically want to know if the movie sucks or not.  So, that's what I'm going to try to do.  Tell you if the movie sucks in as few words as I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIX5j4gDPI/AAAAAAAAABc/LIo3HBFUd4w/s1600-h/drago.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 387px; height: 383px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIX5j4gDPI/AAAAAAAAABc/LIo3HBFUd4w/s400/drago.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346361985294404850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rocky IV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the top, yet still awesome.  See Rocky run up a mountain in Russia.  See Rocky defeat a man twice his size.  See Rocky end the Cold War.  Drago is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIYhsX4QVI/AAAAAAAAABk/14NNQkyxm3s/s1600-h/fightingkentuckian.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 302px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIYhsX4QVI/AAAAAAAAABk/14NNQkyxm3s/s400/fightingkentuckian.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346362674768265554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Fighting Kentuckian&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Standard Wayne movie.  Except with Oliver Hardy in it.  This, makes it a must see.  It's Hardy, of Laurel &amp;amp; Hardy.  Anyone understand the meaning of that?  No one got the joke in the Borat movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIY21wz4wI/AAAAAAAAABs/ExdL4waOPU8/s1600-h/hpd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 382px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIY21wz4wI/AAAAAAAAABs/ExdL4waOPU8/s400/hpd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346363038066008834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;High Plains Drifter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was put off by this movie at first... very confusing.  Until the last five minutes, when it's revealed why Clint was doing what he was doing and why it is fucking badass.  Watch it, to be blown away at the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIZwlw8QSI/AAAAAAAAAB0/VpS8WQidC3M/s1600-h/robocop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 375px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIZwlw8QSI/AAAAAAAAAB0/VpS8WQidC3M/s400/robocop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346364030204002594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Robocop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter Wells is a freaky looking bastard, even before he's Robocop.  Incredibly violent.  Kind of awesome, in a strange way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIaBsH68VI/AAAAAAAAAB8/gs9GF7p289M/s1600-h/rocky-v.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 315px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIaBsH68VI/AAAAAAAAAB8/gs9GF7p289M/s400/rocky-v.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346364323968774482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rocky V&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Absolutely ridiculous.  Only see it if you want to laugh at a silly, stupid movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIaWigDU7I/AAAAAAAAACE/8lrInZ8yKkU/s1600-h/predator.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 246px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIaWigDU7I/AAAAAAAAACE/8lrInZ8yKkU/s400/predator.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346364682162885554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Predator&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classic fucking Ahnold.  "GET TO THE CHOPPER" "If it bleeds, we can kill it."  Plus, Carl fucking Weathers.  If Tobias likes him, I like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIa6M38sTI/AAAAAAAAACM/rWAC0OhKjRY/s1600-h/running_man_a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 190px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIa6M38sTI/AAAAAAAAACM/rWAC0OhKjRY/s400/running_man_a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346365294832824626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Running Man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Book was better, and that was written by Stephen King.  So, whatever that means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIcBq6xhNI/AAAAAAAAACU/BBk4PfxceX0/s1600-h/totalrecall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 259px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIcBq6xhNI/AAAAAAAAACU/BBk4PfxceX0/s400/totalrecall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346366522668451026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Total Recall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More classic Ahnold.  Plus, a midget with a gun.  Plus, a woman with three boobs.  Must.  Fucking.  See.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjQXFRU4WHI/AAAAAAAAACs/g7RLbuPbplA/s1600-h/rollerball.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 222px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjQXFRU4WHI/AAAAAAAAACs/g7RLbuPbplA/s400/rollerball.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346924036913387634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rollerball&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too long, but the brutal cold-hearted violence makes up for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIcPhAeIjI/AAAAAAAAACc/lZOMU2iecxQ/s1600-h/walken.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 357px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIcPhAeIjI/AAAAAAAAACc/lZOMU2iecxQ/s400/walken.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346366760526160434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;At Close Range&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that picture of Walken doesn't make you want to see this film, we shouldn't be friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-7071091287768609649?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/7071091287768609649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=7071091287768609649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/7071091287768609649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/7071091287768609649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2009/06/netflix-reviews.html' title='Netflix Reviews'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SjIX5j4gDPI/AAAAAAAAABc/LIo3HBFUd4w/s72-c/drago.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-6837962921357083781</id><published>2009-06-09T00:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T01:10:25.207-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seattle'/><title type='text'>Seattle</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:110;"&gt;What to say about Seattle?  I've been here for a month and a half and I've been putting off writing this post.  Even as I sit here, I'm having trouble thinking about what to write.  The past two cities I've lived, London and Boston, have both evoked a response.  Boston I liked almost immediately, most of that revolving around the Red Sox and the baseball passion in the city.  That is, until I realized how many douchebag sports fans there are there.  Still, I liked Boston and enjoyed my time there, for the most part.  And London... well, it was London.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what shall I write about?  I guess, very basically, I should list some likes and dislikes.  I like the hills, the views of mountains in the distance, how it's still light out after 10pm...  aah screw it, we all know I'm a pessimist at heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what sucks.  Stage curfew of 12:30 for shows.  No drinking on stage.  How the hell can you not let bands drink and rock?  The public transportation.  While the bus system is decent, I loathe buses.  Give me light rail or subway any day.  A light rail is opening soon, but it's the third or fourth such rail based transportation in the city.  Maybe... I don't know, connect them all?  The Space Needle blows, the Monorail is stupid.  The guy at hot dog stand royally fucked up my Chicago style dog.  There also seems to be an air of douchebaggery/snobbery/hypocrisy from a lot of people.  On the Pacific Science Center they have an estimation of the tons of emissions from Washington state... Yet almost everyone owns a car, and as I've mentioned, light rail transportation is non-existent.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't hate it.  I'm meh about it.  I've enjoyed the handful of bars and eateries I've been to.  There seem to be decent people here, yet it's hard to tell for sure, due to my unemployment and the Seattle Freeze.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lackluster first post, and that's being polite.  I'll start putting up restaurant/bar reviews, since that's where I spend most of my time anyway.  Several places have already made a regular out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS I've added a link to my mediocre photo album of Seattle.  YOU CAN SEE WHERE I SLEEP.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-6837962921357083781?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/6837962921357083781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=6837962921357083781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/6837962921357083781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/6837962921357083781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2009/06/seattle.html' title='Seattle'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-5261577503799859435</id><published>2008-12-16T09:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T13:52:44.733-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sadness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Leaving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><title type='text'>The Last Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;My last week in London was very busy and it was incredible.  And I still managed to write my last paper somewhere in all the madness.  Monday was the much anticipated Christmas dinner at G6.  G6 always had the best parties.  Even during reading week, when no one was around, they were able to pull off a great robot party for Chandler's birthday.  It was epic, as was this night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did secret Santa, and of course half of the gifts were alcohol.  One other gift that did get a lot of use though, was an electrical Santa that walked around.  It was pretty cool. Again, there were about 20 people in the kitchen.  We also had another amazing spread.  The highlight though, was Paul from Newcastle's turkey.  He cooked the turkey draped in bacon, so all of the bacon juice dipped into the turkey and merged with the turkey.  It was so moist and delicious, easily the best turkey I've ever had.  Before we all ate though, we had to do the crackers, which I guess is a tradition in England.  They're little party favors, you pull them apart, they make a sound and then inside there's a little toy and a paper crown, which everyone must wear.  The party went long and it was fun.  And the end of the night, the only people left were me, Scott, Paul and Elisabeth.  None of us even lived there.  But it didn't matter, no one cared.  Well, except for someone else living in G block, who called security on us a number of times.  Three times they came up to talk to us, even though two of those times were before the quiet time kicked in at 11pm, so they really couldn't do anything.  But Francis came up around 3am for the last time and took our names down.  Of course us Americans had no problem with this, we were leaving in a week, what did it matter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday was a bit of an off day, no doubt because of the night before.  I went to quiz night for a little bit, but I was exhausted and wanted to rest up for Sandwich, so I went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, Scott, Chris and I had our last Goldsmiths brunch.  Our tears mixed well with our breakfasts.  I went to my last class EVER and then back to my flat to get ready.  People started &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pregaming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; around 9/9:30 and then we all met at the usual place, D5 before we went.  All the girls decided to get decked out in their best dresses for some reason, so they all looked amazing and us guys are just sitting there in our regular Sandwich clothes feeling like bums.  But it didn't last long.  Sandwich was epic, we got there about an hour earlier and spent 4 hours just on the dance floor, I was so incredibly dehydrated.  Instead of waiting in line at the bar just to get some water, I would go down to the bathroom and drink water out of the faucet, I was dying.  Epic Sandwich, to finish it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday Debi, Scott, Sam, Chris and I went up to Camden to go to Andy's Taverna, a Greek place.  Debi, Sam and I had been there before, it's good.  I had the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;spanakopita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; to start and then the mixed grill for an entree, which is just a lot of grilled meat on the plate, so of course it was good.  Then we went to the Hob because Nelle was leaving on Friday instead of Saturday with the rest of us.  So there were drinks and the first round of crying by the girls.  Then instead of working on my paper, I succumbed to the food and the drink and went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday morning I woke up really early, I planned to get the paper done, turn it in, shower, then go to Central and do some shopping and go to some museums.  Since I only had gotten through 3/4 of the National Gallery, I wanted to go back there and finish it, and I also thought of going back to the Imperial War Museum and going through the ground floor, since I hadn't had time for that when I was first in London in 2004.  So I wrote my 2500 word paper, turned it in and went to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hatchard's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; in Central to get some books.  Then I went to the Imperial War Museum and finished it, going through the WWI and WWII exhibits and the Blitz Experience and the Trench Experience.  I also went through a bit of Monty's museum, and the exhibit on conflicts since the end of WWII.  I forgot how big that place is, I spent a good three hours there, so I didn't have time to go to the National Gallery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night we all gathered at the Hob for our usual Friday night BBQ dinner.  Everyone showed up, of course.  It was a merry, jolly time.  We closed out the Hob and then reconvened at D5 with whiskey and beer.  And of course we had our last bacon night.  There were people sitting on the kitchen floor, drinking and hugging and crying on shoulders.  It was a great night, the perfect end to a great semester abroad.  Many many great friends were made.  There were so many people I would've liked to interact with more, but there just wasn't the time.  Going abroad for a semester is a great experience, but it's also really hard to leave behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I landed in Boston, it was maybe about 10˚ out, with harsh winds and flurries.  Quite a change from an island that doesn't really get below freezing all to often.  All of a sudden, my sweatshirt, which had kept me warm for so long, was useless.  For me, it is harder to transition back into life in the States.  All the people and the comforts that I had gotten used to in London are now gone.  There's no accents, I have to relearn which way to cross the street, the weather is horrible, there's no St. John, there's no Goldsmiths cafe, there's no Hobgoblin, and hardest thing of all, there are none of the people that I saw almost every day for three months.  I will always cherish the memories I have of New Cross and everything that was involved with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-5261577503799859435?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/5261577503799859435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=5261577503799859435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/5261577503799859435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/5261577503799859435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2008/12/last-week.html' title='The Last Week'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-4977751784265891292</id><published>2008-12-07T19:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T13:38:31.691-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amsterdam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Surprisingly Beautiful City'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fries'/><title type='text'>Amsterdam</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;The Thursday I left for Amsterdam was unlike most.  There was no Sandwich the night before.  Instead, I had awoken at eight.  I did two loads of laundry.  I finished one paper and then wrote another.  I turned three papers in to their respective departments and to the international office.  I packed, completely.  How did I pull this off?  I don't know.  I finished writing three papers in about 72 hours (including research), and that includes watching a full movie and several clips from other movies to write one of my papers.  I am a golden god.  I was ready for the weekend.  Only one more paper to write when I got back, and that was simple.  I was ready to relax and have some fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was flying in on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;EasyJet&lt;/span&gt; with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cait&lt;/span&gt;, Scott and Jen.  Eventually we would meet Chris, Shank, Derek, Fran, Avivah and Jordan there.  Big group.  Apparently, Shank and Derek were supposed to be on our flight, much to our surprise. And apparently we were supposed to go to the airport with them?  None of us knew this, due to major &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;miscommunication&lt;/span&gt;.  But it seemed to work out, they were going to catch a later flight.  Except when they got to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Gatwick&lt;/span&gt;, they found out they had booked the earlier flight... oh, and by the way, they were also to late for the flight they booked anyway.  So they slept in the airport and made a Friday flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Cait&lt;/span&gt; and I were extremely tired, since we were both up writing papers late/early.  Instead of going into the city center, we went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Leidseplein&lt;/span&gt;, a square near our hostel (which was wonderful, by the way.)  We went to go eat at an overpriced restaurant, I had a cheeseburger.  Then we went to this place called the Bulldog, which was straight out of the 80s, it was pretty awesome.  We sat there for awhile, drinking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Heinekens&lt;/span&gt; (because they actually taste good there) and watching &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Cait&lt;/span&gt; fall asleep at the table.  It was strange seeing people at the bar of any age just smoking a joint.  There were these two older guys just sitting at the bar, talking to the bartender sharing a huge joint.  It was a pretty good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday we had an unspoken agreement to sleep in.  I don't know about Jen and Scott, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Cait&lt;/span&gt; and I really needed it.  So we eventually get ready and set out, with our ultimate goal being the Red Light District.  We first hit Dam Square, which has the Royal Palace and the National Monument.  Also close by was this fry place that boasted they were Amsterdam's best fries.  So we got some.  I got the "Fry Sauce" which was some mayonnaise based sauce.  They were excellent fries.  I'm not a fry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;connoisseur&lt;/span&gt;, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were the best in Amsterdam.  Then we wandered around the red light district for awhile, and well, I can't get into that, as this blog is family-oriented.  Eventually we met up with the people that were coming in that day.  We met at this awesome hostel that had a huge bar on the ground floor.  Stayed there for awhile, then since the new people hadn't seen the red light district, we went back there for awhile.  Eventually got some food from some place I don't remember and went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday our group met up with the others and walked to the Anne Frank house.  It was a decent walk from where we stayed, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Vondelpark&lt;/span&gt;.  I was able to appreciate how beautiful the city actually is.  All you hear about Amsterdam is the red light district, coffee shops, Heineken...  but the city is actually really really nice.  The canals make it very interesting.  Another thing, is that there are usually more bikes on the road than cars.  The bikes have their own lanes, their own traffic signals, it's really cool.  It's definitely a place I would like to go again, and perhaps rent a bike to take around town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just getting in line at the Anne Frank house is very sobering.  And it's contagious.  All annoying tourists cease to be annoying, there are no kids running around, no one really laughs.  I haven't read the diary in probably 15 years, so I my memories of it are very few, but the others seemed to know the story well.  They were more affected by being there.  I just found it amazing, seeing it, how many people lived in that small area and how they were able to avoid detection for so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the house, we walked down the street a little and found a pancake place where we ate brunch.  Jordan and I got an amazing hot chocolate with rum and I got a bacon pancake.  They're not the pancakes we have in the States, they're very thin and very big.  And it was very good.  Then our groups split up, they went to the Van &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Gogh&lt;/span&gt; Museum and we went to the Heineken factory.  Again, Heineken factory was like all the others, except instead of giving you a full pint at the end, they gave you a half pint.  Cheap Dutch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we went back to the hostel and ate dinner and had a few pitchers.  We ordered a traditional Dutch treat, which was just fried meatballs.  And since it was fried meat, it was very tasty.  I also had lasagna, since there wasn't much of a selection.  Eventually we made plans with the other group to meet back at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Leidseplein&lt;/span&gt;.  We tried to find a good place and originally settled on the Bulldog, the place we had been on Thursday night.  This time, however we went upstairs and through the glass doors, which allows for more activity to take place.  The group got thinner and thinner until eventually I left with Scott, leaving behind Jen, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Cait&lt;/span&gt;, Derek and Shank .  Scott and I immediately went looking for food and the first thing we saw was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;McDonalds&lt;/span&gt;, so that's what we got.  I lasted all that time without getting American food and on my last weekend in Europe, I broke down.  Thanks, Amsterdam.  We were woken up at 5 in the morning by Jen and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Cait&lt;/span&gt; returning from some club they went to after Bulldog.  They were just as loud and annoying as the Welsh in Dublin.  Great times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For this last week, we have a Christmas dinner party, last quiz night, last Sandwich, our dinner at St. John fell through, so we're going for Greek, then the last night in London.  Quite a lot to do, and I still have a paper to finish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture link added on the right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-4977751784265891292?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/4977751784265891292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=4977751784265891292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/4977751784265891292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/4977751784265891292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2008/12/amsterdam.html' title='Amsterdam'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-4603450924912831618</id><published>2008-12-01T22:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T13:53:12.116-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bourdain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bacon'/><title type='text'>St. John</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;If watching Anthony &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bourdain's&lt;/span&gt; No Reservations started my transformation into a foodie, St. John Restaurant by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Smithfield&lt;/span&gt; Market has completed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bourdain&lt;/span&gt;, he seemed so happy and content with discovering new food or just eating traditional food done right.  The more I watched him, the more offal seemed appealing to me.  Whenever I went out to eat in the States (not often) I started to look for the oddest choice on the menu and order that.  My Paris culinary adventures &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;culminated&lt;/span&gt; in the ordering of a pig's trotter.  I was well on my way.  St. John pushed me over.  I've been there twice now and we have plans to go back our last week here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first trip I started with what is supposed to be the signature dish of St. John and a dish that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bourdain&lt;/span&gt; said would be in his death row meal.  Bone marrow and parsley salad.  You get three bones, wet sea salt, parsley and two pieces of toast.  You scrape the bone marrow out onto the toast, add the salt, spread the mixture on the toast and then top with parsley.  It is amazing.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Foodgasms&lt;/span&gt; with every bite.  For my entree I had faggot, which is a meatball traditionally made of pig heart, liver and fatty belly meat (thank you Wiki.)  It was also really good.  I wanted to order the rabbit saddle, but they were out.  My friend Chris had the chitterlings, which were so good that I regretted ordering the faggot.  Debi had smoked eel and bacon which was also amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went for the second time tonight.  To start off, I had ox heart.  It was delicious.  It just tasted like a piece of meat that was really well prepared.  My friend Scott had black cuttlefish cooked in its own ink, which was also really good.  My entree was rabbit and bacon in a mustard sauce, which proved to be the favorite of the table.  The mustard sauce was otherworldly, I was sipping at it even when all the meat was gone.  For desert we ordered &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;madeleines&lt;/span&gt; and we each got our own dish.  I got the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;eccles&lt;/span&gt; cake and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Lancashire&lt;/span&gt; cheese.  I'm not sure why, there was no way I could finish it.  It was really good, but the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;madeleines&lt;/span&gt; were even better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not been to a lot of restaurants, let alone highly regarded ones.  However, St. John seems special.  It does traditional food really well.  It's kept simple and it's kept good.  The restaurant itself is very simple, with the whitewashed walls and floor.  You know when you walk in there you're not going to get any fancy food plated divinely or any frills.  You're just going to get some damn good food that makes you want to come back for more.  I say this is my favorite restaurant in the world.  So does &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Bourdain&lt;/span&gt;.  His opinion makes me feel a little bit better that I'm choosing a favorite restaurant so early on in my growth as a foodie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-4603450924912831618?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/4603450924912831618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=4603450924912831618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/4603450924912831618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/4603450924912831618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2008/12/st-john.html' title='St. John'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-4919363554055520008</id><published>2008-11-30T20:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T13:53:29.773-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Procrastination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bond James Bond'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><title type='text'>Visitors</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;I had two visitors this past Saturday.  My brother Ted and a friend from Northeastern, Jaime.  Jaime came in Friday afternoon.  It was really too late to go sight-seeing, since it was dark, so we thought maybe we could go to Greenwich and watch the new Bond movie.  So we went to wait for the 177 bus.  This turned out to be a problem, as it never came.  There was a woman that had been standing there for at least 1o minutes longer than us, we waited for probably 30 minutes and it still hadn't come.  She was still standing there when we left.  Instead we went to the Hob for awhile, until it was time to retire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day Jaime and I met my brother by Parliament, and I took them around to some of the major sights.  Parliament and Westminster, down to Buckingham, then to Trafalgar and onto Piccadilly.  Jaime really really wanted to see a musical while she was in town and she was able to convince my brother to go see Spamalot.  So they bought half-price tickets.  We walked to the theater and I dropped them off.  I decided to take advantage of the time and I went to the National Gallery.  I'm not big on fine art, but it was something I had wanted to go to.  There were some paintings I really liked, they mostly revolved around Greek mythology.  Then some of the rooms were just painting after painting of Jesus or Mary or other biblical scenes, it got repetitive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the Gallery and Spamalot, I took them to Soho.  We walked around a while until we came upon Leicester Square, where we decided it would be good to try and see the new Bond.  We went and saw the showtimes, but the closest one was three to four hours away.  So we went for food.  We found this place in Soho that was a French/Italian restaurant.  I got the foie gras as a starter then the coq au vin as the entree.  It was pretty good and reasonably priced.  After dinner we went back to Square and bought tickets, then saw the movie.  It was OK.  I might've liked it more had I remembered more of Casino Royale, since Solace was almost a sequel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the movie it was pretty late so we went back to New Cross and hit the hay.  I had to wake up at around 5 in the morning to make sure Jaime got on the correct bus so she could get to London Victoria so she could take the Gatwick Express to get her flight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So everyone is gone.  Though my papers are technically due on the 5th, I leave for Amsterdam on the 4th.  I have a lot of work to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-4919363554055520008?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/4919363554055520008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=4919363554055520008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/4919363554055520008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/4919363554055520008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2008/11/visitors.html' title='Visitors'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-3545456178729400769</id><published>2008-11-28T10:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T13:53:53.763-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='American Football'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Turkey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bacon'/><title type='text'>Turkey Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;Thanksgiving started like most post-Sandwich Thursdays - in a haze.  It was a little worse this time, because my brother, Ted, was in town.  I hadn't gone to a show as I usually do on Wednesdays.  So we were at the Hob earlier than usual, then we went to Sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We woke up and went to the green, where there was an American football game going on - the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pilgrims&lt;/span&gt; vs. the Indians.  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pilgrims&lt;/span&gt; won.  We even got a Brit to play, though the first time he got a pass, he threw it forward again because he was used to rugby.  The game lasted maybe an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ted went back to sleep for a little and I went to go help with shopping and cooking.  And by helping with cooking I mean standing around drinking water and occasionally basting the turkey.  Pretty soon everyone started showing up.  We probably had around 20 people in the D4 kitchen.  It turned out pretty well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had the turkey, of course.  We had mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, scallops, mac &amp;amp; cheese, cranberry sauce, stuffing with Italian sausage and bacon, many pies and types of dessert, lots of wine.  It was a great spread, huge.  And we ate most of it.  The Brits there loved the holiday.  After we ate our first plate, they asked us what now?  And we said more food.  After we had all eaten enough and we were all in food comas, they asked again, what now?  We said this is it.  They replied by professing their new found love for the holiday.  Later on in the night, people would hover around the food with forks, slowly picking at food and at the turkey.  Everything was so good and there was still so much.  The rest of the night we just sat around, talking and drinking.  It was a great Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-3545456178729400769?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/3545456178729400769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=3545456178729400769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/3545456178729400769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/3545456178729400769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2008/11/turkey-day.html' title='Turkey Day'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-1774550618059028194</id><published>2008-11-23T18:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T13:35:43.028-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jameson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dublin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Annoying Welsh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guinness'/><title type='text'>Dublin</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;Dublin was the second weekend in a month long stretch of no rest.  I'd be there two nights with Scott and Jen, then Debi, Sam and their friend Lidia would join us on Saturday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dublin was my first experience on the infamous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ryanair&lt;/span&gt;.  I had heard so many warnings about them; dodgy takeoffs, dodgy landings, bad customer service...  I had no problem with them at all.  The Irish woman at the check-in desk was probably the nicest airline employee I've ever met, and she just started the long run of incredibly nice and helpful Irish that we came across during our time in Dublin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The city was... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;.  It was very Americanized, lots and lots of pizza and hamburger joints.  After I got back, I was talking to my friend Liz about it, and she thought it was a lot like Boston, which I have to agree with.  It didn't have that European city feel to it.  What added to the Boston feel was the streets.  Though on a loose grid system, the streets change name every block, so if you're looking for a certain street you might not find it.  So my advice?  Buy a map.  Of course, we got into the city when it was dark and rainy and we couldn't find our hostel...  Not the best beginning.  When we were wandering around, we did see a city map hanging in a window.  While we were trying to get ourselves oriented, this guy walking down the street and stops and asks if we need any help.  Incredibly surprising, no one would do that in the States.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We eventually found our hostel and settled in.  Then we went out to the Temple Bar area.  As we quickly found out, Dublin is a pretty damn expensive city.  We went to this pub and ordered Guinness &amp;amp; beef stew for 16 euro.  It was really good, but... it's stew.  Granted, we were in a big tourist spot, but other places we went were still expensive.  Later, we learned that if we wanted to save money, we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;should've&lt;/span&gt; stayed on the north side of the river.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the night, we went to this one club type place and sat up on the roof the whole night, just drinking Guinness and talking.  The great thing about Guinness in Ireland, that in addition to it tasting magnificent, is that's a domestic beer and therefore cheaper.  A little slice of heaven.  As I went up to get another round, the bartender started talking to me in an incredibly heavy Irish accent.  It was a bit hard to understand him.  But what I really got out of this conversation was a lesson about Budweiser.  He told me that whenever he went to the States, he could never find a pint of good Budweiser.  I say, what do you expect, it's a crap beer.  He insists that it's not and gives me a sample.  And you know what?  It was really damn good.  They should sell that stuff here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning was our sight seeing day.  First, we stopped at a hotel/restaurant on the corner of our street and got an Irish breakfast, which was of course amazing.  Then we walked to Trinity College.  We didn't go see the Book of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Kells&lt;/span&gt; or anything.  None of us were that interested and we were trying to not spend too much money.  The campus, however is gorgeous.  The courtyard you first walk into is beautiful and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;architecture&lt;/span&gt; was very cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there we walked down the street to Dublin Castle.  Again, we didn't go in.  The Castle didn't seem too big or unique.  Though the courtyard, I thought was impressive, just like at Trinity.  Then we walked even further down to Christ Church Cathedral which was pretty impressive.  I kind of wanted to go into this, but money and time concerns didn't allow for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were going to go to the Guinness factory with my friend Ashley, who is there for a year for her major.  So while we were waiting for her, we went to this pub across from the church called the Bull &amp;amp; Castle.  It had a pretty good beer selection and while a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;pricey&lt;/span&gt;, was still better than most places we had seen.  We finally met up with Ashely and her friend and walked to the factory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The factory is massive.  It's seven flights, five of which are a self-guided tour.  It was pretty impressive, but if you've been on one brewery tour, you've been on them all.  It was basically the same as the Sam Adams tour, except more interactive and just bigger.  But the story was the same.  On the top floor is the Gravity Bar.  It give a 360˚ view of Dublin.  It was dark, so we couldn't see much, but it was still a cool sight.  And the Guinness at the factory is really all it's made up to be.  It was like the nectar of the gods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we walked back, with Ashely leading, and somehow ended up on the other side of Trinity.  We went to a pub and had dinner.  I just had fish and chips, which was the first time I had an order of that while abroad.  Again, nothing special, especially for the price.  This is when Ashley and her friend went home, since they live outside the city and apparently the bus service is horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we headed back to Temple Bar.  I had somehow developed a massive headache by this point, yet we still went to a club for several hours.  The club was nothing special and actually kind of annoying.  While we were walking back we saw a hot dog stand and we each got a 4 euro hot dog, which kind of made everything better.  I felt like I was at a ball game paying those prices for a hot dog.  We were in a deep sleep until around 4am when some of the people sharing our room came back and were generally incredibly loud and rude.  They did not whisper, they turned lights on, one of the guys started tickling a girl, they were taking pictures with the flash on... generally just being wankers.  It sounded like there were a bunch of them, but when we woke up the next day and met them, it was just four kids from Wales.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday we got up around noon and got ready.  We were supposed to meet the other group of people around the Spire.  We went to a cafe right on the corner by the Spire, had another Irish Breakfast them met up with Sam, Debi and Lidia.  The plan was to go to the Jameson factory.  So we walked over the factory.  Lidia and Jen didn't want to do it, so they went shopping and I went through the factory with Scott, Sam and Debi.  Again, the factory was pretty standard stuff, except I learned a little bit more about Whiskey.  Plus, there was free Jameson at the end.  We then went to the bar downstairs and got an Irish Coffee, because we had heard they were amazing, which they were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we had to walk back to their hostel to drop some stuff off and meet back up with Lidia and Jen. We were trying to figure out where to go that night and eventually decided to go back to the Bull &amp;amp; Castle.  We went upstairs and were able to secure a long picnic table to seat all of us.  We had a nice long night there.  Met many many friendly about around the bar and outside.  They even had Sam Adams, which was a nice surprise.  They also had the best food we had in Dublin.  And all we got was an appetizer sampler.  I think that's a good comment on Dublin's food.  It was a good night, we left and walked the girls back to their hostel, got some pretty tasty pizza and went to bed.  Then we flew home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture link added on the right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-1774550618059028194?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/1774550618059028194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=1774550618059028194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/1774550618059028194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/1774550618059028194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2008/11/dublin.html' title='Dublin'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-8984970731616203937</id><published>2008-11-22T16:52:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T13:35:13.762-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stonehenge'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bath'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Club Sandwich'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Windsor'/><title type='text'>Windsor, Stonehenge, Bath - Finally</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;&gt;I'm walking down a street that looks like any other, when all of a sudden the opening drum beats of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Moby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Dick" by Led Zeppelin are blaring out of some unseen speaker system.  A little strange, but I quickly realize this is good walking music and I fall into a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;rhythm&lt;/span&gt;, only to have the song stop after about 30 seconds.  Then after a couple moments, the song starts again.  All of a sudden, I'm hit with the realization that this is not an awesome song blaring out of some unseen all-powerful stereo system, but it is in fact my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ringtone&lt;/span&gt;, and I am, in fact, dreaming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tris, are you coming?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What time is it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"7:05"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Crap, I'll be right down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what Club Sandwich does to your Thursdays.  Lord Sandwich takes all your plans for Thursday and utterly destroys them.  It doesn't matter if your plans were ambitious, like a tour of three of England's popular tourist attractions, or something simple, like get to Goldsmith's Cafe by two.  Sandwich crushes these plans.  If you do happen to get done what you had planned, Sandwich still makes sure that you will feel at your absolute worst while accomplishing your plans.  You will think you're going to pass out, or fall over; maybe you'll even think, in your melodramatic state, that you will die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite all this, Sandwich is the place to be on Wednesday nights in New Cross.  The Hob has 20% off drinks all night, yet no one really goes there.  It's Sandwich, or you're staying in getting work done.  Sandwich usually involved an hour or two of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pregaming&lt;/span&gt;, then standing in line for a little until you're let in around midnight.   Then you dance hard for three straight hours, with little to no water and lots of drink specials.  Then things are blurry and then you wake up exhausted physically and mentally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I was dealing with at 7:05 in the morning on Thursday October 23rd.  Usually, you get to sleep in on Thursdays.  No classes, nothing to do except sleep off Sandwich.  Getting less than four hours of sleep is not a good move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't planned this way.  I was going on the bus tour with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Cait&lt;/span&gt;, Scarlett and Jen.  We had gone to our theater class and then the show, like every Wednesday.  There was a general consensus, at first, that we wouldn't go to Sandwich that night.  We had to leave New Cross around 6:45 to get to pick up spot by 8, that's way to early.  By the time we got off the train from London Bridge though, we all knew we were going to go.  And this is why we were all running very late that morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got ready and downstairs so quick that I forgot my ticket.  We had a cab waiting for us, since there was no way we could take the bus.  We were almost in the cab when I had to run back upstairs to get my ticket.  We got to the hotel where the bus was supposed to pick us up at and we all just kind of sat or stood around with that post-Sandwich look on our faces.  What didn't help is that it was a stereotypical English weather day.  Overcast and rainy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually we get picked up, taken to another drop off point where we get on the bus that will take us on our tour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First stop Windsor.  The castle was nice, nothing especially outstanding, at least in my opinion.  They turned the moat into a nice garden type area, which was nice to look at.  The girls loved the guards, of course.  I liked the church best, but we barely had time to see it, which is a problem on these tours.  Since three locations had to be packed into a short window, not much time was allowed for at each site.  For Windsor, I would've liked to walk around more and stay in the church.  It also would've been nice to explore the town a little, instead of just the castle.  As it was, we were getting close to the departure time, when we got caught by the changing of the guard and had to wait for about ten to fifteen minutes before they would let us pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our next stop was Stonehenge.  The site is extremely underwhelming.  You can't get close to the stones, which in part I understand because they don't want people touching them or climbing on them, but they could let us get a bit closer.  We were so far away it was hard to appreciate how massive the stones actually are.  It's also right next to a highway.  I went expecting ancient, mysterious, mystical Stonehenge to be this peaceful place, yet I couldn't get past the cars whizzing by.  The tour could be improved by shortening the time at Stonehenge and extending time at either other site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we went to Bath.  The drive to Bath was a long one.  In between trying to sleep, I was able to see bits and pieces of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Cotswolds&lt;/span&gt;.  That is something I also would like to do, travel through there, it was very beautiful.  Another problem with tours, is the tour guides.  Does anyone really listen to every single word and fact they say?  They go on and on and on.  You can tell they don't like their jobs, they're just repeating everything like an encyclopedia.  The humor they interject to make it seem like they're &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;enjoying&lt;/span&gt; themselves comes off as condescending sometimes.  It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; to tell us when we're passing an interesting site or something like that, but stop with the rambling.  This happened in Greece too.  It was why I was reluctant to do a tour like this, but I also knew that I would never get anyone to go on day trips either.  Do tourists like this?  I hope I never do one again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bath was a really cool town.  I would've like to spend a day or two there.  The Roman Baths were really cool and I really liked the Abbey right outside also.  I would've loved to explore the town more.  We had about 45 minutes after we were done with the Baths, which is enough time to walk around a little, but not enough to really explore or browse the numerous shops.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;could've&lt;/span&gt; used more time here than the tour could ever allow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more complaint about tours is the lunches.  When we booked the tour, we were told that we could book with or without lunch, we did without lunch.  We assumed we would eat in the town of Windsor or something on a free lunch hour or whatever.  No, they took us to this roadside country pub.  Nothing else around us.  That's fine, the food was good, but why even make lunch an option if there's no where else to eat?  It's a complete racket, tour groups and restaurants hooking up.  That happened in Greece, we'd pass through these small little towns and you could see all the good local restaurants, and we'd wind up at some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;buffet&lt;/span&gt;.  Yet another reason why being a tourist sucks, but being a traveler is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As always, pictures added on the right.  Up next, Dublin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-8984970731616203937?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/8984970731616203937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=8984970731616203937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/8984970731616203937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/8984970731616203937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2008/11/windsor-stonehenge-bath-finally.html' title='Windsor, Stonehenge, Bath - Finally'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-7591078311659837381</id><published>2008-11-19T18:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T13:54:26.909-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stavros'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Keys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pubs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><title type='text'>The Past Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;Last Wednesday the Black Keys were in town.  A group of 7 of us went to the show, held at the Carling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Brixton&lt;/span&gt; Academy.  It was an older place, like the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Orpheum&lt;/span&gt; in Boston.  Unfortunately, the show was also like the one in Boston.  There was no standing to be had in the balcony, not because people didn't want to, but because we were forbidden, which is lame.  The Keys' timing also seemed off at first and Pat's bass drum was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;waaaaay&lt;/span&gt; overpowering at times.  They also had the sub-standard set list and absolutely horrible encore.  But still, it's the Keys, so I can't complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday, Kendal came in.  After bring her stuff back here, we went to Soho just to walk around.  We ate at a pub right by Leicester Square station.  I had a Steak and Ale pie with an Old Speckled Hen.  Both items were delicious.  After walking around there some more, we started heading back, but got off at Waterloo to walk along the South Bank.  So we walked along, past the Eye and over the Westminster Bridge to get a view of Parliament.  Once we were satisfied there, we came back to New Cross and went to an Obama victory party.  It was supposed to feature cigars and champagne, but only champagne made an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;appearance&lt;/span&gt;.  But there was some nice food, raw salmon on watermelon, chicken stuffed with cheese and bacon... tasty stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday we woke up and went to Westminster.  We looked at Parliament and went into Westminster Abbey.  Outside the Abbey is gorgeous and I appreciate all the history located just inside the Abbey, but its almost too much.  It's too busy inside.  I prefer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Notre&lt;/span&gt; Dame much more over Westminster Abbey.  The interior is just so much more peaceful and beautiful.  After the Abbey we started walking through St. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;James's&lt;/span&gt; Park before turning back and going to the Churchill Museum and Cabinet War Rooms.  The War Rooms I had already seen, but this time I had the audio tour which enhanced the experience.  The Churchill Museum was all new to me though and I wish we had gone there earlier in the day because I did not see enough.  The Churchill Museum is so interactive, it's incredible.  And not interactive in an annoying &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;kiddy&lt;/span&gt; type way.  Lots of multimedia, the highlight which is a giant board in the middle of the room where you can surf through major dates of his life and history.  Amazing stuff.  After the War Rooms we went to Trafalgar and got a quick bite to eat at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Pret&lt;/span&gt; a Manger.  From there we walked through the Admiralty Arch along the Mall to Buckingham Palace, which at least to me, was quite unimpressive.  Then we went back to New Cross to hit up BBQ night at the Hobgoblin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday we just took the train straight to London Bridge.  From there we walked to and across Tower Bridge and over to the Tower of London.  I've seen the Tower before, but again, an audio tour enhanced my experience.  We also went into the display of the Crown Jewels, which I hadn't seen.  The Jewels and the coronation ceremony... all a little over the top, if you ask me.  It was amazing though how intricate the crowns and scepters were.  We spent five hours there.  I bought some mead, because mead is delicious.  From there we walked through London, past St. Paul's until we found a pub called Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese.  This place was rebuilt in 1667 after the Great Fire.  It has not changed much.  There is no large bar area, just small rooms, sometimes with tables or just a bar.  Very old wood, sawdust on the floor, low lighting, a very very cool place.  We had dinner in what was called the Chop Room, a place Dickens used to eat in regularly.  We had a cheese plate as an appetizer and for my main course I had Scottish roast beef with horseradish and Yorkshire Pudding.  It was so good.  I cleaned the plate.  After this we slowly slowly worked our way back and went to Sam's, since she was cooking mac &amp;amp; cheese and having people over.  A jolly good time was had and I eventually made room to try some of her excellent dish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday we went to the Museum of London, which was horrible.  I wasn't ready for it to be so kid-oriented.  And even the parts that were supposed to be for adults, it was very simple.  For me, it never really showed me anything new.  By the time we got to a place in time where I might have learned something, I was so bored and annoyed with the general layout of the museum, that I didn't care to read anything.  Most of the time, when a museum is trying to tell a story, they have it organized so you know where to go along a basic timeline.  In this museum, it was just sort of go wherever you want, which is not a good idea.  Half of the museum wasn't even open, it was closed for renovation.  After this we went to the Sherlock Holmes museum, which is a recreation of his house on 221B Baker Street.  I don't know any of the stories or anything about him, but it was a pretty cool place.  Everything was made up to be as it would've been in his times.  They had someone playing Watson who greeted people and took pictures with them.  On the third floor there was a bunch of wax/plastic (?) figures from famous stories.  A decent place.  After that we went to Picadilly Square, just so she could see it.  We went to Aberdeen Steak House right off the Square and got the sampler with the worst potato skins ever made.  We were supposed to go out to dinner, but that fell through, so we want back to the Hobgoblin and got some Thai food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting her to airport on Monday was a pain.  We woke up at 7:15ish but we didn't get out of the flat until a little after 8.  Standing on the platform, we had to let three trains pass us, we just couldn't get on.  There was no room.  The aisles were packed with people.  So eventually we had to take the bus.  We jumped on the 436 to Paddington, which took a good 75 minutes, at least.  So we get to Paddington at 10:15ish, we had originally planned to be at Heathrow around 9:15.  At this point, we're resigned to the fact that she won't make her flight, since cut off for check in is at 10:30.  Still, we get on the Express and get to Heathrow.  We go to the check in desk, are led to a couple different places and eventually they let her check in, but tell her she has to book through security and the airport and everything.  Somehow, she gets on and all is fine.  Helluva morning.  To make up for it, I went out for sushi with Sam and Gareth that night.  The sushi was on a conveyor belt and you just picked what you wanted off the belt.  It was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I leave for Dublin later today, Ted's in on Sunday, Thanksgiving is on Thursday, Jaime is in on Friady and then I leave for Amsterdam the Thursday after.  Where has the time gone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  Pictures have been added to the "London" album, the link is on the top right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-7591078311659837381?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/7591078311659837381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=7591078311659837381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/7591078311659837381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/7591078311659837381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2008/11/past-week.html' title='The Past Week'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-8326010305844539339</id><published>2008-11-19T17:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T13:55:11.773-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sparklers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Sleep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><title type='text'>Election Night in the UK</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;Anxiety reigned throughout the day.  Usually when there's an election or a primary day, I'm used to checking online almost constantly and getting updates and going through the whole process.  So much has already happened by the time I'm awake or able to use the Internet.  But here?  I woke up late (which is normal) and nothing had happened yet.  Of course, it was only 8am in the east.  So I had to sit there, getting nervous and anxious and having my stomach feel like I had eaten something indescribable.  Finally I was able to get some people together to go get some good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;' American food - a nice fat juicy burger.  Eating dead animal topped with cheese and more dead animal always calms me down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SU&lt;/span&gt; was having an election party and they were staying open very late.  Lots of people showed up, the main room was pretty full.  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;SU&lt;/span&gt; finally opened at 8 for pound a pint night and the American-themed pub quiz, which didn't start until 9:30.  So we waited around and watched BBC show the same shots over and over again.  We met a Republican who said that if Obama wins, he still had to produce a birth certificate.  We ignored him the rest of the night.  He actually left early because he felt uncomfortable around all of us big bad liberals.  So we went through the pub quiz and finished a disappointing fourth, but at least our friends in another American-centric group won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the live coverage on BBC started at midnight.  Every McCain win was met with a chorus of boos, every Obama win was met with raucous cheering.  As Pennsylvania and Ohio fell and some traditionally red states were not called right away, the more optimistic of us were already calling it.  Factoring in west coast states we knew would go blue, quick math gave us a count of around 250-260 electoral votes.  Surely, we optimists thought, that's it, Obama will easily pick up the necessary votes in other states.  However, some people had to hold out until they were absolutely sure it happened.  This happened somehow around the hour of 4am when California fell followed quickly by Oregon which put Obama over the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as this happened, the staff kicked us out.  No worry, we all went back to our places, grabbed our alcohol and met back in C block to drink and dance.  The jovial &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;atmosphere&lt;/span&gt; was only interrupted by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Obama's&lt;/span&gt; victory speech, which brought many a tear to those huddled around the choppy streaming video of a Dell computer.  We were loud enough to get yelled at twice by the security guys.  This spurred our decision to move farther away from the security block to the safe confines of F block where more dancing and drinking went on.  This went on until about 6:30am when we grabbed our sparklers and went outside to the parking lot outside the building.  There we stood for a good 20 minutes basking in our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;sparklers&lt;/span&gt; glow and singing patriotic songs.  We were even joined in song by someone who was hanging out of their window.  After sparklers, we walked down to the Goldsmiths' Cafe for some 7am breakfast and then we went back to respective flats to finally get some rest.  That night a few of us went to watch fireworks for Guy Fawkes' Night, but we all believed - just a little bit - that the fireworks were actually in celebration of Obama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first time in my politically-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;conscious&lt;/span&gt; history, I am proud of my country.  I was walking on air for the next couple days.  It was also great to see the people gathered in Grant Park and it made me miss Chicago very much.  As great as it was and as much as I wanted Obama to win, it still scares me a bit the devotion and love some people show to him.  To many, Obama could do no wrong.  However, for me, I had problems with his shifting views between the primaries and the general election.  I know he had to move to the center for vote purposes, but I still don't like it.  He's also a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;politician&lt;/span&gt;, and a Chicago &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;politician&lt;/span&gt; at that.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Politicians&lt;/span&gt; do not deserve that kind of loyalty.  They're &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;politicians&lt;/span&gt;.  His whole idea of change has already been tarnished.  He's bringing in Clinton-era people for his staff or people that have been in Washington awhile and know the old school game.  I understand this is judging him too harshly too quickly, but its what I do.  Hopefully he can show me he's for real and bring about what has been called a "new New Deal."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even better though, was the reaction of Republicans I know.  On &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;, there was immediately a group made called "Impeach Obama."  And now I count five of them.  He hasn't even been sworn in yet.  Here are some quotes from the group descriptions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"We know he was raised as a Muslim, but for the past 20 years has been a member of a violently liberal church in Chicago, but there is no available record of his baptism into the Christian faith."&lt;/blockquote&gt;I didn't know being a Christian was ground for impeachment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;If we grow large enough in just a few days, and do not manage to get censored by President Obama and his Truth Squad, we may appear on Fox News.&lt;/blockquote&gt;Appearing on Fox News, always something to strive for.  This group also doesn't seem to understand that he won't be President until next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some quotes from some of my friends status updates:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;this man better live up to the hype...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;RIP America. Enjoy your Soviet Rally, hope you all drink the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;kool&lt;/span&gt; aid.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;is you wanted it, you got it. we'll see what happens now... / I don't get it....&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Yesterday history was made.  I only hope that it did not lead us down a path our future will regret.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third one is from a girl that has showed no political &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;consciousness&lt;/span&gt; at all as long as I've known her.  From what I can tell she just listened to what her boyfriend and family told her instead of thinking for herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still not sure how people can think that McCain, who would more or less continue much of Bush's policies, would be best for America.  He said the economy was sound, he picked &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Palin&lt;/span&gt; as a running mate, he wants to bomb everyone...  This is good?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying Obama is going to end his term being considered a great president or anything.  But I firmly believe that at this point in our history, we need to look forward and have some young blood and young ideas, instead of being held back by an old man and a woman that hates women.  America is capable of using climate change to propel us and the world into a new era.  Obama is more likely than McCain to do this, the only question remaining is, will he?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-8326010305844539339?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/8326010305844539339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=8326010305844539339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/8326010305844539339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/8326010305844539339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2008/11/election-night-in-uk.html' title='Election Night in the UK'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-3003119688347607180</id><published>2008-11-08T18:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T13:31:01.341-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Paris'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pig&apos;s trotter'/><title type='text'>Paris</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;Paris is a beautiful city with breathtaking architecture, lovely people, and of course, great food.  I spent a little over two days there, and a good chunk of that time was spent at Versailles.  Still, this was one of my most enjoyable trips.  The city grabbed me and became a place that I have to return to.  I need to learn some French and go back because I feel as if there is so much more to see and to do.  Probably in multiple visits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting into the country is easy.  We flew &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;EasyJet&lt;/span&gt; into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Gaulle&lt;/span&gt;.  Immigration was simple, no long lines or questions, just present your passport and get it stamped.  After that we walked through the very very long terminal to get to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;RER&lt;/span&gt; which took us into Gare &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;du&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Nord&lt;/span&gt; and from there we transferred to the Metro and took that until we were close to our hotel, which was in the 11&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed in a very quiet residential neighborhood and we got to pass the beautiful St. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Ambroise&lt;/span&gt; Church every time we entered and exited the Metro.  We stayed at Garden Hotel.  The room was very small but somehow fit three beds in it.  The bathroom was amazing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ough&lt;/span&gt;.  The shower was one of the best I've had in Europe, except for my stays at the Amalia Hotels throughout Greece, but those were 4 star hotels.  However, the room smelled.  A very very heavy mildew smell hit us the first day/night we were there.  It looked like there had been a problem with a pipe and it had leaked onto the carpet.  The smell eventually went away though, and besides that the stay at the hotel was quite enjoyable.  The night manager was this adorable small old French woman who didn't speak any English (and we could only speak very basic French).  She was incredibly patient and nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We used the Metro and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;RER&lt;/span&gt; to get around Paris, and the whole s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ystem&lt;/span&gt; is incredibly easy.  You might have to change lines a couple times to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;zig&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;zag&lt;/span&gt; across the city, but that's much more convenient than going all the way into a central point and then all the way out to your destination *cough*BOSTON*cough*.  Tickets can be used on the Metro, the bus and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;RER&lt;/span&gt; (within the city limits).  Easily the best public transportation system I've been on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first night we were supposed to meet some other people for dinner, t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;hough&lt;/span&gt; that never happened.  Anyway, we went into the city center to go to the Latin Quarter, and one of the first views we get is this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:110%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SRBt8MFee5I/AAAAAAAAAAg/DccFJ_sF1WA/s1600-h/seine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SRBt8MFee5I/AAAAAAAAAAg/DccFJ_sF1WA/s400/seine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264828845199883154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;A stunning view of the Seine, the Eiffel Tower and La &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Conciergerie&lt;/span&gt;.  We stood there for about 10-15 minutes, taking in the view before walking across the river and through &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Ile&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; la Cite and across the river again.  We walked around the streets for awhile before stopping for drinks at a bar that advertised happy hour (which lasted for 12 hours).  It was so packed, there was a large group of people that had just started drinking on the street.  And no one seemed to mind.  After we found out we would not be meeting with our other friends for dinner, we just found a place that was open and ate.  I had the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Andouillette&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;AAAAA&lt;/span&gt;.  Which is basically a sausage casing stuffed with pig stomach.  It was very interesting, a texture I had never had before.  At first bite I wasn't sure I could eat all of it, but I kept going and I started to really enjoy it, especially with the mustard provided.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:110%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:110%;"&gt;The next day we made a trip out to Versailles.  The palace was amazing.  The Hall of Mirrors is the highlight, though every room is so intricately decorated that you can't go wrong.  Marie Antoinette's estate is also worth going to, though it is a bit of trek out there.  It was set far away from the palace so she could escape court life.  It was very quaint, with a pond, a farm and simpler housing.  The real reason to go to Versailles is the gardens.  The gardens are so perfect and so well designed.  A whole day could easily be spent touring the gardens.  The view down the grand canal from the steps in front of the palace is one of the best views I've ever had.  It looks like a picture.  Yet as you walk forward and go deeper into the gardens, you realize just how real it is.  It was incredibly enjoyable.  We had lunch at a restaurant in the middle of the gardens (the gardens are open to the public).  I had braised beef which was very good.  A very relaxing afternoon.  Many times we just stopped and just took in the view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, we were supposed to meet the girls for dinner.  We were meeting at the Louvre and we got there much earlier than the girls did, so we sat on the steps and watched bikers and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;rollerbladers&lt;/span&gt; do tricks and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;harass&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;pedestrians&lt;/span&gt;.  Eventually the girls showed up and we went to the Louvre for literally 15 minutes.  We walked straight to the Mona Lisa and left to go get dinner.  Dinner was about four or five blocks from the Louvre.  It was a small place with a jazz band playing.  For an appetizer I had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;foie&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;gras&lt;/span&gt; and roasted duck pate baked into a crust, my main course was salmon and black pasta and dessert was chocolate cake and almond ice cream.  A great meal.  Also outstanding was the broth of the ravioli appetizer, and the lentil and bacon that made up the bed of another salmon dish.  Definite food coma after this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was an intense sight seeing day.  We got going late and missed meeting up with the girls again, who were in line for the Eiffel Tower.  We were debating standing in line, but decided not too, since it we thought it would be better at night and the elevators to the top was closed anyway.  So we walked down to the Arc &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Triomphe&lt;/span&gt; were one of my companions got scammed twice within 10 minutes.  The second one ended with no money being exchanged, but the con guy got very animated and made a scene.  After we had our fill there, we took a stroll down the Champs Elysee until we found a restaurant to get lunch at.  I had a sort of pie with shrimp, scallops and mushroom in a white sauce baked under cheese.  Again, very good.  My friend had frog legs, which weren't great, but good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch we hopped onto the Metro and went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Notre&lt;/span&gt; Dame.  It is a beautiful cathedral, both inside and out.  A definite must see.  After we spent a good hour or two wandering around the inside we took the Metro over to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Invalides&lt;/span&gt;.  It was closed, so all we could do is wander around outside of it.  Then we went back to the Eiffel Tower and got in line to go up top.  A very aggravating line, people need to learn to queue up like the British do, or at least Americans.  A person can only take so much breathing directly onto the back of their neck.  And the people behind were part of a large tour group, which shouldn't have been in our line anyway.  Once we got up, we spent another hour or so on the second level and then the top.  Taking in the view and talking to a couple other college age students from America we met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we got back down, we went on a journey to find this restaurant that was featured on No Reservations called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;Chez&lt;/span&gt; Denise.  We found it... but it was closed and our dreams of massive amounts of dead animal seemed dashed.  However, we were in the Les &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;Halles&lt;/span&gt; area and there were quite a few choices around us.  So we went to this once place that looked out onto Les &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;Halles&lt;/span&gt; that doubled as a butcher shop.  From our table we could see the table where the prepared all the meat.  It was awesome.  And this set the stage for my best meal ever.  Started off with bone marrow, which while kind of pain to get out of the bone, was worth it.  Then, the main course, a pig's trotter.  A huge pig's foot on my plate.  You literally have to rip the thing apart with your bare hands.  It comes with a bowl of water to wash your fingers off.  So I went through ripping a pig's foot apart, sometimes sucking the skin of the bone because the skin was just that good.  The meat itself was great.  The underside of the foot was very lean and tender, but the toes were very fatty.  The most work I've ever put into eating, plus I half my plate was full of bones, but it was worth it.  Top of the evening with a triple chocolate cake.... Major major food coma.  I'm surprised we all made it home awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting to the airport was a trip.  We get to Gare &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;du&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;Nord&lt;/span&gt; to board the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;RER&lt;/span&gt; out to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;Gaulle&lt;/span&gt;, but none of the ticket machines are taking our credit cards (even though they did before).  So we had to scramble to find an open ticket window, since it was early.  We finally get our tickets and go down to the platform.  Apparently there's a huge conference going on and the conference center is on the way to the airport, so the train is jam packed full of businessmen from all over the world.  My two companions get on one car and I have to sprint down the platform to finally find a car with any room.  Once I get on I realize that I didn't tell them where to get off, so I text them.  It comes back that my text didn't go through and I couldn't make any calls for some reason either.  So I get off at the stop we're supposed and walk back to the car they were on, but I didn't see them.  I stand around for a little before going upstairs to see if they were there.  They weren't, so I think maybe they just headed for the terminal and I go there.  Nope, not there either.  Phone isn't working, texts aren't working...  It's getting closer and closer to the departure time.  Finally they show up and it turns out they DID get my texts and we somehow walked past each on the platform.  Very stressful.  Then we get in line to check in.  PACKED AGAIN.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;Gaulle&lt;/span&gt; is a very poorly designed airport.  Maybe it was great when there wasn't a need for security, but now it sucks.  Instead of there being a large security checkpoint, then gates, there are gates first, then security, which slows down everything.  Plus, for some reason there were two flights taking off within 10 minutes of each other going out of the gates that shared a security checkpoint - ours and a flight to Zurich.  So we had two flights full of people trying to get through a security checkpoint with two x-rays and zero employees that showed any sense of urgency.  Eventually the Zurich flight got a new gate (about an hour too late) and both of our flights were delayed, but hey, we made it.  Good job &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;Gaulle&lt;/span&gt; airport.  Next time I go to Paris, I'm taking a train or flying into Orly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-3003119688347607180?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/3003119688347607180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=3003119688347607180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/3003119688347607180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/3003119688347607180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2008/10/paris.html' title='Paris'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/SRBt8MFee5I/AAAAAAAAAAg/DccFJ_sF1WA/s72-c/seine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705801101987320425.post-371810335272571079</id><published>2008-10-27T18:25:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T13:27:54.709-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Procrastination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Living the dream'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><title type='text'>I Probably Should've Started This Sooner...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times;font-size:110%;"  &gt;But well, you know me by now.  This is what I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, this experience has been a blast and I don't see that changing anytime soon.  As a fellow NU student here is apt to say, "We're just living the dream."  And aren't we?  I have about 10 hours of class and three of those hours are spent watching film or watching a play.  I have classes on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.  I have four day weekends.  Whenever anyone goes out of town for the weekend, they come back HERE.  London is our home.  On my way home from Paris (to be discussed in another post) I realized I was leaving Paris to go hoe to London.  And this is my life right now.  How is this not living the dream?=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for my classes.  The standard format for classes here is an hour lecture with the whole class.  After that the class splits into different seminar groups for another hour in which the topics are discussed, led by the instructor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Explorations in Literature.  I enjoy this class.  We read a classic work, go to a lecture about that work, then have a seminar to discuss.  So far we've read the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Odyssey&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Antigone&lt;/span&gt; (a play by Sophocles), Ovid's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Metamorphoses&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Beowulf&lt;/span&gt;.  All books I've meant to read before, I just never get around to it.  So far I'd have to say I enjoyed Antigone the most, especially after I went back and read the two previous plays that lead up to Antigone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ethnographic Film.  This class isn't exactly what I expected.  I think I was looking for more focus on the films, instead of focusing on the evolution of film as an anthropological medium.  This class is basically a lecture/seminar hybrid, a straight 2-3 hours.  After a brief introductory lecture, snippets of the main film are shown with portions of a secondary film shown next.  Afterwards, the instructor assigns rows different questions to focus on, and the class devolves into a lot of loud groups doing the questions until they have an easy answer than talking about whatever.  Then the instructor calls us back together and has us present the answers.  Nothing ever really seems to get accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lived Histories.  This focuses on social movements of Britain in the 19th and 20th centuries.  The lectures are ok, but the seminars don't really have much direction to them.  I'm also not that big a fan of the instructor.  Not really much to say about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;London Theater.  Easily the most enjoyable class.  We meet for an hour and discuss the previous week's production.  However, most of my class consists of theater kids, so the four NU kids just sit back and let the theater kids talk about it.  After class ends, we have to jump on the bus or overground and journey to the play for the night.  Then we watch a play and that's it.  So far we've seen "Brief Encounter" which was an adaptation of the movie put to stage.  It was a very interesting production, audience participation was involved, film was used to supplement the action on the stage and it was presented as a night out at the movies like in the 40s.  After that we saw "Mine" which is best described as a bad Lifetime movie.  Next was "Radio Golf" by August Wilson.  The production could've been better, but it stirred interest in me to see more of his work.  Last week we saw "Now or Later" which is set in real-time right when the polls are closing on a US presidential election.  Easily the best production we've seen so far, very engaging and provocative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drinking culture is very relaxed here.  It's just a part of everyday life, not an occasion, like in the States.  A lot of kids pop in for a pint or two after their classes and then go on with their day.  Everyone seems to be able to handle it a lot better too.  Which is good, because drinking is almost constant.  The only night we really take off is Mondays.  Sunday and Tuesday night are pub quizzes, Wednesday is Club Sandwich and also the start of the weekend for most of us, so Monday is the only night that seems to be universally taken off.  And of course lots of people are sick because our bodies are breaking down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't done much touristy stuff in London, since I've been here before and I'm waiting for people to come visit.  I went to the British Museum and Greenwich and we go into Central London every so often.  Otherwise, my time is spent in the New Cross area.  Not much too exciting around here, we mainly go to the Hobgoblin and the Student Union (SU).  Going into Central is expensive or takes a while, since the Tube is down, and so far it hasn't been worth the effort to go for a night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people are much more friendly here, everyone uses please, you're welcome, thanks/cheers.  There's a lack of urgency that is refreshing, but at the same time it can be frustrating.  Sometimes I just don't want to stand in a long line at Sainsbury's when the checkout woman is taking her time.  But most of the time its fine, a different pace that is nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather has been pretty great.  It was warmish/sunny the first several weeks here and it has not rained much at all.  It's getting colder now, but it is almost November, so it's to be expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm running out of steam.  If you want to view pictures, there's links to albums on the right, closer to the top of the page.  If I have not addressed anything you would like to know about, please leave a comment or send an email to tram66@gmail.com.  Check back in the next day or two for posts on my trip to Paris and my trip to Windsor, Stonehenge and Bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705801101987320425-371810335272571079?l=darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/feeds/371810335272571079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1705801101987320425&amp;postID=371810335272571079' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/371810335272571079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1705801101987320425/posts/default/371810335272571079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darkstreetsoflondon.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-probably-shouldve-started-this-sooner.html' title='I Probably Should&apos;ve Started This Sooner...'/><author><name>Tris Miller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03539282723546164738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rI7dXNQykyI/ShzUb-zHH2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/0YItJkKL6VI/S220/lookout.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
