Trapped In The Toilet At King's

I got trapped in a toilet yesterday. It was at King's, the Waterloo campus. As an ex-student, I showed an old ID, and I ran into the building, because I desperately needed the loo, and couldn’t see one for miles. I ran straight up the stairs, and into the toilet.

Now, King’s have a strange thing about placing the ladies toilet on the first floor, and directly above it, the men’s toilets. Same place, but the floor above. I had forgotten this. I found myself in the cubicle, minding my own business, but wondering why the tissue had a nice little mirror next to it, and why it was so scarily clean. King’s must have got better cleaners, I told myself. Then all of a sudden, I heard a soundd I could never have imagined I would hear in the place I was-well, the place I thought I was (the men’s toilets). I head the odd sound of not one, but two women giggling and coming in, and starting to talk all sorts of things. I don't think I checked the sign on the door, due to my desperation, and had run into the ladies! Now I was truly in a predicament: I didn’t want to stay, like some kind of man-spy, but I couldn't leave, as the two women would think I was some sort of strange man-spy who had perhaps watched Mel Gibson’s What Women Want a few too many times, and decided he wanted to know what women talk about in loos! So, I had to wait.



Ten minutes later, and these women are still talking. I won’t divulge the content of their conversation, but I must admit I found it strange that in the same breath, they were able to talk about their boyfriends, their exes, and, strangely, even their cats!

After about twelve minutes, they finally left, the circle came to a close: they left, giggling again, and I ran out of that toilet, faster than I had run in!

The Cavalry Has Arrived

After meeting my College Proffessor for afternoon coffee at the British Library the other day, I decided to take a ramble through Kensington Gardens. Of course, this involved actually walking to Queensway from Kings Cross, which took a few hours, but I was adamant (for reasons I cannot actually recall!) to walk through Kensington Gardens that day, so I made the trek.

By the time I got there, I was absolutely knackered, and secretly hoped someone would give me a lift in their car as they saw me trudging through the streets of Queensway, or that someone would let me have their bicycle out of pity. It was at this point I heard a slow march behind me. I thought to myself, 'who on earth would be marching in this scorching heat?' Then I turned, and it was truly a magnificent sight. At least 50 soldiers were marching right behind me, all monotonously, step after step, putting my little preamble to shame. I asked one of them. 'are you guys Territorial Army, Royal Marines, or the Commandos?'

He answered in a very manly voice: '...no....we're the Cavalry!'

The cavalry!! I couldn't match them for physical strenth, no matter how much I tensed my shoulders. These guys were made of pure British beef, so I thought I would provide them with a comment on the act of marching, for reflection. I said, 'yes, it is indeed a fine thing, walking, isn't it? It is such an interesting endeavour, as humans, we even invent other ways in which to do it, like marching.' The soldier gave me a 'one more word and I'll thump the life out of you' look, and said, 'yeah, whatever you say.'; Charming, but then, we never associated any charm with the cavalry!

Gauntlets

I desperately, desperately want a certain pair of gauntlets!!

Thought for the Day: Healthy Eating

In a recent discussion I had with a top, personal trainer located in London, I came to the realisation that 'snacking', may not necessarily be a bad habit. That is to say, as long as one snacks on fruits, and healthy elements of food, rather than slowly damaging their body and putting it into a state beyond repair, a person would be slowly improving his or her body. So, the thought for the day is, 'snacking on fruit is great, and one of the best ways to maintain your hunger and receive more energy'!

Going To The Hospital: I'm A Daddy!

Yesterday I had a very strange experience. I had to go to a distant hospital-The Royal National Throat, Nose, and Ear Hospital, to have a doctor look at my jaw, which was giving me a bit of pain. I was waiting patiently in the waiting area, and then this English, rather posh looking woman wheeled her cute little baby into the area. Immediately, the baby looked at me, and smiled. I smiled back, as you would. Naturally, I started making faces, and he smiled a bit. The woman said, 'hi, you alright? He's such a little terror!' in a joking way, and smiled. Strangely, she spoke as if she knew me. Bizaare? Seemed ordinary to me, most people feel they've known me for years after talking just five minutes with me. Meanwhile I was feeling a strange bond with the baby, even though I was sitting about 12 feet away. Then, it was her turn to go and see the doctor, so she started to pack her things away. I moved the chairs out of the way for the pram to be able to wheel out with ease, and gave the mother the baby's shoe which had fallen off. She said to me, 'thanks! ok, we have to go, nice meeting you.' Then, the baby said something which stopped my heart from beating for a few seconds: 'bye bye, Daddy.' The woman looked at me and smiled, just smiled. I was confused, and bewildered. When had I fathered a child who was now 1 years old? My memory was bad, but not THAT bad! I'd never slept with a woman, and yet, here was this immaculate conception! I couldn't breath. He said it again, 'bye bye, da-da.' Oh dear, now he was using alternatives! The woman just stood there and smiledd...was I the miraculousn daddy, or did she want me to be the father figure?! I still had my MA to complete, I didn't have time to be a part-time father to this child! I said, 'wow, when did that happen? I don't remember his birth!' She stands, just smiling, still. Then, 'da-da', again.

It was at this point she cut in, 'no Michael, he's not daddy...daddy is...at work, remember? Sorry, ok, nice meeting you, bye-bye again.' She was gone, and I thankfully, was not the father to the miracle child!

Facing a Nightmare

Today I was told I would once again have to undergo a nightmare experience I had left in the past...its always hard to move on from an horrendous experience, but when you are forced to experience that horror again, it just makes you wonder if there is any point in having a real sense of hope in the concept of improvement and betterment. I must admit that of all the days in my life so far, today, at the age of 23, I feel least happy to be alive.