The Rose and Crown

I woke up Friday with every intention of doing some serious cleaning around the house.

I got up, had breakfast, then went back to my room to get dressed. I tried to get into my wardrobe, which, because of its close proximity to my bed, will not open all the way. After the frustration of the past two days (which will be further explained in the next post), I simply could no longer abide by the difficulty presented by the too-near bed. I then decided I would re-arrange my room to better suit all the furniture I have.

I'm very glad I did. Despite the fact that it took me all day and caused me to work up a bit of a sweat (the sun is still gracing London with its marvelous presence), I now truly feel at home in my room. If you know me well, then you know how important my room, and especially my bed, can be to my sense of comfort. Today's re-arrangement is the first sign that I genuinely feel at home in my surroundings. Took long enough.

I still managed to do a bit of cleaning, mostly vacuuming and ironing, but by dinner, I felt quite accomplished, which was a welcome change after the disaster of my visit in the country (again, more later).

I had decided at some point during the afternoon that I should probably get over any lingering doubts about forging out on my own and just go to a pub by myself. After meeting Conrad's grandmother, I've had this overwhelming sense of homesickness that had yet to rear its ugly face since my arrival at the end of June. A night of fun might just help me focus on what I love about the people I miss, rather than just obsessing about missing them.

I like going to karaoke bars because people seem to have such fun. Folks forget their own vanity and go up to sing because they want to. The karaoke places I liked back in the states were dive bars and considered dirty, but the people inside didn't care about how much money you made or the car that you drove.

After some careful internet research, I found a place nearby that seemed promising. The Rose and Crown pub, which advertises karaoke on Friday and Saturday nights. So I went. It turned out to be everything I was hoping for. Old folks, strange karaoke choices, and reasonable prices. Even made a couple of new friends. I've been invited out tomorrow night. This whole time I've been here, I've thought that people aren't friendly or approachable. Turns out, I just need to go to a pub and ask someone if you have to tip the bartenders (which, as it turns out, you don't). Amazing.

So, after sorting out my room and going to the pub, I'm starting to agree with my assertion that moving to London is quite possibly the best decision I've ever made.

Cheers.