Night (and Day) at the Museum

Buying a sofa in another country is hard, guys. First, there is a lot of math involved. Second, you want there to be a West Elm/Pottery Barn/Crate & Barrel-to-British store converter app, because you don’t know where you’re supposed to shop. Third, everything takes six weeks to be delivered. We’ve sat on more couches and looked at more fabric swatches in the past few weeks than I physically thought possible.

The good news is that we peppered it with way more fun stuff! Because, guys: We are in London! On Friday night, we did something crazy. We went on a blind date with another couple. There’s a website here that’s pretty much a hybrid of MeetUp.com and Match.com, so I found a couple from DC who looked nice and normal and asked them out, as we all know I lack any sense of propriety or shame. We met at a pub on Baker Street near the Sherlock Holmes museum and it was really fun, and they were really nice, and we talked about how you can’t get Velveeta here, and how some words Brits say seem less proper than the ones we say. (Seriously: Toilet?)

Chris has had a terrible cold the past few days, so we wanted to “take it easy” the rest of the weekend. Which meant us watching The Inbetweeners movie in bed on Saturday morning, and then resuming tour-esident business as usual for us. (That’s the word I made up for us: touresident.) Since we’re moving in to our new flat in a few weeks, we wanted to go walk around our new neighborhood and get a feel for the commute from the Tube, which includes the massive Westfield shopping centre. These people are obsessed with “Westfields” and keep mentioning it and it took us a good week before we realized it’s the same Westfield chain of malls we have in the US. So Chris and I are thinking “Yeah, how big can this thing be? Have you ever seeeeeeen Garden State Plaza?” Turns out, they were not embellishing. This place is insane. It has absolutely everything and is at least three times the size of GSP, which is the largest mall I’ve ever been to. We ate at Wagamama (my favorite), looked at lots of sofas, and killed a Saturday the way Americans do: window-shopping our faces off (because we still don’t have a bank account and can’t really just buy things yet—weird). We made our way home afterward, ordered in Chinese food for the first time, and watched Night at the Museum 2. I really love that movie. Judge away.

Today we went back to John Lewis (a big department store here) at Oxford Circus to double-check our most-eligible sofa. We’re dead-set on finally getting a sectional sofa because Chris and I think we don’t snuggle enough because we’re always on two separate couches at night when we’re relaxing. So this is currently the front-runner. It is amazingly comfortable and I cannot wait to fall the eff asleep on it.

We made our way to The British Museum afterward as Chris’s birthday activity and, this being my fourth visit, and Chris’s third, we surprisingly managed to see stuff we hadn’t before. And here’s the super awesome thing about living here: You don’t have to go crazy and shove everything into one day. You can skip an entire floor, and dawdle in the gift shop as long as you want, cause you can just come back another time. So we checked out Roman Britain and—obviously—the mummies. I finally saw Lindow Man, which was actually super-exciting for me because it hasn’t been on display the last two times we’ve been there. It was very creepy and very cool. He still has hair, guys. And skin. And he was in a bog.

We finished up the day with what’s becoming a Sunday tradition: early dinner at the pub (this time, The Prince of Teck in Earl’s Court). And now we’re at home, and Chris is preparing for his flight to Barcelona tomorrow for work, while I write this, but mostly watch The Mummy Returns on television. Sorry, guys, if this is not my most compelling writing, but have you ever seen the amazingness that is the CGI version of The Rock?!

Oh, and a pigeon flew into my head outside the museum. Like, the wing actually touched the top of my head. The pigeons here are unbelievably ballsy. Kind of like the squirrels in New York. I almost threw up in the courtyard. Ugh. Still grossed out.

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