A year later....

Looking back, I didn't really expect to be here at this point in my life. It's odd to discover that what had made you 'you' was just something that had been comfortably familiar. The people who surrounded you, the clothes you wore, the room you slept in, the car you drove - these I truly believed made me Jocelyn. But when you shed all of these and moved across the ocean with two suitcases and a few ideas - who, then, were you? You had to make new friends from all over the world, with different accents, hair styles, and visions, politics, and ideas. You had to find comfort in a bed that didn't seem like yours and use an umbrella, rather than a car, when it rained.

It's been a year since I moved to London. I imagined I'd be back in Boston now, perhaps getting a job there, or moving on to New York or San Francisco. I flew over on the fifth anniversary of 9/11. Not a date many would want to fly out of Logan airport. Yet, I did it not expecting to return until Christmas. And I'm still here, not expecting to return until Christmas. And then be back in time for New Years.

Home is a place as familiar as anything can be. You know where you lay your bag down at the end of the day. Where you keep the wine opener. How to work the washing machine and that the Brita filter needs to be changed at the end of the month. That your flatmate will either be in a great mood, or maybe tired and cranky. This is home now. It went from two suitcases, to a collection of crap. It went from knowing no one, to knowing many new faces, people, and friends. To having a 'local', to learning to spell in British English, not just American English. It went to getting a first salary paying job - in the pound, not the dollar. Learning how to pay rent on time can be easier than understanding why English men are more difficult than American men.

And being in my mid-twenties in a fabulous city outside of my old comfort zone could have been the greatest decision I ever made. It's funny to look at my old life, and think of how frustrated I would be. Wondering where I was going, and when my big break would be, as my friends grew up around me, got jobs, bought houses, got engaged and settled down. I'm proud of them. But I'm also proud that I didn't just sit back and watch them grow up. I decided to grow up on my own. I'm learning how to take care of myself, what makes me happy, what pisses me off, how to get around, and how much (little) money I can survive on without having to ask for help.

Where will I be next year? Some things haven't changed. I still love surprises. I'll be content waiting until then. Who knows where I'll be, what I'll be doing, and who I'll be surrounded by. But, I'm pretty sure if I know myself yet, I'll be happy. Or, at the very least, comfortable.

Happy Anniversary, Jocelyn. London is more than you were banking on. And that's a good thing.

We partied like it was 1999

This post is dedicated to the Prince show I saw two days ago at the O2 Centre in London (North Greenwich to be exact). I've been reading reviews of the shows he's been putting on (if you're unaware, he's playing 21 shows in LDN)since starting 1 Aug. This being his ninth show in, you would think he'd be bored of us.

I'm not entirely sure bored would be the word. But he is Prince, and he knows he's a legend. So, he can act like a King. And that he did. He took the stage at 9:25 to a very antsy and excited crowd. Sold-out, of course. Wait, before I go on, the stage was amazing. I'll have to post pictures (which we illegally took) on my .mac website. It was shaped in his Prince symbol, which light up in different colors and prints throughout the performance - so much fun.

To see his complete set-list, I've found Housequake to be the best. I can't say that I was the most fanatical Prince fan upon entering the concert, however after the show I must get copies of as many CDs he's got (what, like 1,000?) ASAP.

Still, I was so excited when the third song in was 1999. Other favorites included: Cream, Purple Rain (I was SO happy to hear it), Raspberry Beret, and a rendition of Louis Armstrong's What a Wonderful World. Half way through the show he included a synth set of around eight of his songs, which was both a tease and a lot of fun. Of course, he kept telling us we weren't ready for them... Which made the crowd erupt in the loudest screaming I've ever experienced at any concert in my life - and I've been to hundreds. Do I need to remind you, I'm only 23?

His encore was immense - Kiss followed by Let's Go Crazy. He kept joking that he was out of hits and didn't know what else to play. Even though this would have been quite brazen and boasting coming from anyone else, it made him seem more human. Turns out, Prince can be funny. And I really like him. I thought beforehand (especially after Dave Chapelle's hilarious skit as him playing basketball in a purple velvet suit) he was a serious weirdo with a short-man complex. Well, I'm going to revamp my mindset of him. I really, really like him now.

So even though he only played for one hour and 20 minutes, I was sold. One of the best performances I've ever seen. And I don't think I've seen a more involved crowd in my life. They ate it up. With cream on top.

Maybe one of the best £31 I've ever spent. And now I can say, "Yeah, I saw Prince in London, baby."

A few days late

So I sometimes buy a newspaper, and it takes me a few days to read the whole thing. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one out there who's a bit slow, but I figure I might as well make my money's worth out of the whole thing.

Favorties in the city of London include The Guardian and The Independent. And of course in the states I was an avid Boston Globe reader and when I had the opportunity, The New York Times (why does it have to be so expensive?).

Anyways, I think it's more because now I don't buy the student discount of The Guardian and the Independent (25p!!) at uni and have to splurge 70p! Awful.

So my point being I just finished in the G2 Charlie Brooker's column. I seriously laughed out loud (I refuse to use the term 'LOL'). In the article, he more or less discards all the horrific signage in London by the poor, graphic-design-lacking shop owners, from kebab shops to off-licenses, and how they're making him go blind.

My thoughts? I agree totally. It's like a clash fest as I walk towards the tube, Starbucks, or Borders (books are totally in my wheelhouse). The uPVC's are all over the place, in flashy colors, wacky fonts, and horrific spelling. Comic Sans must be a sin, and why people are using it to advertise their house of business is beyond me. And somehow the colors orange and yellow have been created that make me feel even more nauseous. My favorite quote is at the very end, "It is your fault, shopkeepers. It is your ugly font-abusing font." Yes, I may throw up because of you!!

Read his full article here http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/story/0,,2063359,00.html