HOW THE OTHER SIDE LIVES

In Which The Frenchies Are Introduced

My darling and adorable French friends Sonia et Richard arrived late Friday night--perfect timing, as I got to see the the new seasons of Friends and Sex & The City. Worst nightmare: having to leave the U.K. and return to the U.S. without seeing the end of the series, and having to wait for the DVDs to be released until I can see the finish.

So for those of you with bad memories (or infrequent visits to this site), Sonia is a friend I made in Illinois while doing her Master's in Ceramics Engineering. She lives in Versailles, and I visited her (along with our mutual Swiss friend Stephan) over New Year's Eve; we stayed at her boyfriend Richard's. Sonia and Richard remind me very much of my other adorable French friends, Laurence and Lionel. Both dark: dark hair, dark eyes, petite girl, bigger boy. Sonia is all of 5'0 while Richard is 6'5. Yes, it's quite amusing at times, but they seem to make it work just fine.

In Which Valentine's Day Rears Its Ugly Head In The Not-So-Distant Future

At one time I thought I'd be jealous or even annoyed at having couples share the extra bed in my room, but when Megan & Joel visited it was nothing but cute, and the same with Sonia & Richard. Giggles, tickling, whispers... while not something I'd want on a daily basis (unless of course I was one of the parties involved), it's nice having temporary roomies. I'll have one more roommate when my old boss Stacy visits beginning on the 21st.

In Which We Walked 500 Miles, And We Would Walk 500 More...

It was hard cramming everything London has to offer into one-and-a-half days, but I think their first taste of London (and first trip to Britain, for that matter), went well. The weather behaved itself admirably the entire time--just one rainshower where we ducked into the Market at Covent Garden and watched a busker to pass the time. Otherwise it was cold and windy, but at least it was sunny. We spent Saturday on the whirlwind of Trafalgar Square, Leicester Square, Piccadilly Circus, Shaftsbury Avenue, Covent Garden, fish'n'chips at Rock & Sole Plaice, the Strand to Somerset House, across Waterloo Bridge, down the South Bank, into the Tate for the huge sun, to Borough Market, across London Bridge, through the City, around the Tower, to the Tower Bridge... and back home for a bit of a well-deserved rest. Just in case you were wondering, that was about four miles that we walked. Yeah. That's a lot.

In Which A Modern-Day Bacchanalia Is Attended

Saturday we met up with a French friend of Sonia's from uni. Sylvain lives with two other French guys, both high-powered City workers who make--and I'm not kidding--£8,000 a month. A MONTH. In return for the cash they work till 3.30 in the morning. Work hard, play hard, is their unconscious motto. Never have I been around people who wasted money like they. We went to a club off of Portobello Road, and by the time we left the guys were on their third bottle of Veuve Cleuquot champagne. Not the most expensive on the menu (that was Cristal for £150), theirs only rang in at about £130 apiece. And they guzzled champagne out of the bottles... It reminded me of the decadence of Ancient Rome, the wild orgiastic parties of the nobility. Except in a nightclub. With trendy people decked out in 80s clothing.

In Which Theresa Decides to Rock Out

After another full morning (Portobello Road, Kensington Gardens, the V&A, the Natural History Museum), I bid farewell to Sonia and Richard and took a well-deserved nap. Capping off the weekend was a girls' night out: School of Rock, cocktails in a South American-themed bar on the King's Road in Chelsea, a short walk home to South Ken and the local Belgian bar for some delicious beer. Now, I know what you're thinking: Theresa's drinking beer?! Don't worry, it was raspberry and tasted like cider. And as for your second thought--yes, School of Rock just opened here this weekend. Films have to be proven box office successes before they're released here. Which sucks for me because I hear about all the films from my American pals, but the Brits don't tend to know what they're missing out on. And it was definitely worth that wait, although I had a huge urge to buy a car, some Classic Rock, and rock out while driving at high speeds down deserted country roads. Good thing that's impossible!

In Which Theresa Sees Where Rich People Send Their Kids

And quickly--I had an interview at the American Community School on Tuesday. Located in Surrey (one of the posh Home Counties--basically a bedroom communities for London), it is situated on acres and acres of land up a long drive. The Kindergarten is in its own stately home, the preschool in a miniature village, the custom-built gym facilities (next to the rugby pitch, the football field, the golf course) have a three-court basketball area with bleachers that come out of the wall, and the swimming pool's depth can be raised or lowered. All of these amenities come for the bargain price of £15,000 per student per year. And the main campus (there are three) has 12,000 kids. So you can see what kind of money is being dealt with, and imagine the kind of parents who come over with their families to work in London for a few years. Surprising to me was the fact that only 50% are American--the others tend to be Scandinavian, although there are quite a few Indians. And of course there's the option of students staying in the boarding school if they want to finish high school there if their family moves back home.

In Which Theresa Decides To Be A Gold Digger

I talked with Elizabeth and Brenna about this--how I've felt so envious lately because I don't have that amount of money and never will. Hell, if I had an extra £140 I'd sure as heck buy a nice dress, some great shoes, or spend it on a weekend away, not on a bottle of champagne I won't even appreciate because I'm guzzling it at a nightclub. That said, I've gotten to do some pretty neat stuff on my paltry income. I've had a lot of weekends away, and I'm going to my second ball in six months in a mere two weeks' time. So I guess it's not about the money... but it sure would be nice to have a little more. Okay, a lot more.

In Which The Future Is Undecided...Keep Tuned

I have another interview here in London on Friday and one in Glasgow next week. While it's disappointing not have heard from any of the other places I've applied, I can't complain too much, as at least I'm getting to practice my interview skillz (and I have friends who haven't had a single interview for the loads of apps they've been putting out). I'm trying not to panic too much and am concentrating on having a good time. Hey, I just bought my dress for the ball. Only £40!

Whether on March 1st I'll go to Lille or Paris for the day and come back here on a tourist visa, or go to Germany, or go to Switzerland, I'm not sure. Luckily for me, tickets are cheap, and I have friends to stay with all over Western Europe.

Wish me luck,
Theresa