I should say on the onset that any pictures on this blog that feature me, or are in any way well composed, framed, and shot, are by Alex Ungerman. Alex has a fantastic eye, and is gracious in loaning me pictures he takes throughout the day. If he lets me, I'll link here to his photo blog, but I gotta ask him. You know those artsy types! So particular. Anyway, if the pictures are washed out, aesthetically unpleasing, or of people's feet, you can bet your bottom dollar that I took them.
I saw The 39 Steps again today, and I was apprehensive about it because it was so funny last year. What would be the chances of it being funny again? Well, turns out, pretty good. I laughed again through the whole thing, but picked up a lot more of the Hitchcockian references this time, like the instructions to look out the Rear Window, and the love theme from Vertigo playing when Richard Hannay peeled off Pamela's silk stockings. Mostly I love the Criterion Theatre, which is on the smaller scale of theatres, and is technically underground. There's just something really intimate about it, like it was built for this particular play. This was a matinee, which seems to be "nap hour" for this group, but we all managed to stay awake by dancing the Charleston in our seats to the pre-show music.
This being a mid-day show, no one really knew what to do with themselves with a night off. Everyone had an idea of what and where and when, and the sensible thing was to just split up. Which we did. I went with a larger group who made an important mecca to a building steeped in history and legend, the London H&M flagship store. There Lisa bought me some new duds for my birthday (July 30, ahem) and she knew exactly what I wanted! That's just how marriage is, I guess. Other people bought things in strange and magical colors, like Joe's orange shirt and 95% of what the girls bought.
Next we wandered the streets looking for food, even trying to get a decent pub meal at an unfortunately named pub (I'll tell you the name if you email me.) We found some Chinese take-out for four pounds that seemed to ring everyone's bell. Or, in this case, gong. We ate in Cavendish Square, a quaint park where, despite all of our travel guides and even a historical plaque, apparently nothing has ever happened. Then, we walked down Regent's street to Trafalgar, where Lizzie and Daniel were reunited after lots of searching and Annie, Jaclyn, and Joe played a few rounds of marry, kill, boff.