We left with a massive crowd from the Camden tube station, transferring to the Piccadilly line that goes to the stadium. When we entered the train, three men were jacking around, pushing each other playfully but without regard for others riding the train. One of them backed into me. “I’m sorry,” he said through notable beer breath. He pointed to his friend. “He’s ‘ad a little too much to drink.”Read More »
Normally when we’re first in London, we can’t sleep at night and get our best rest in the morning from about 4 a.m. to noon. That’s because it’s nighttime in Chicago. But this time, we slept well on London hours and woke up relatively early in the morning. The mattress at the Club Quarters Gracechurch was mighty fine.Read More »
Our journey began at what still seems like today, because a real night of sleep has not been achieved. I worked on Thursday until late afternoon in downtown Chicago and then hopped on the CTA with my weekend bag. Meanwhile, my husband was Read More »
There is nothing like the feeling of having Arsenal tickets in hand. It is the feeling of adventure, possibility. Also, the opposite feeling–coming home, groundedness. Last month, when the Arsenal v. Olympiacos Champions League tickets in my hand were going to be consumed by my husband and a friend and not by me, there were new feelings: loss, envy, coveting. A feeling of what-if-I-take-these-tickets-right-now-and-hop-on-a-plane?Read More »
I take no pleasure in Chelsea’s slow motion dive into the dismal abyss. Jose Mourinho is indeed the best manager Chelsea have ever had, just like he said in the post-match conference yesterday.
I thought I would type those things just to see how it felt. It felt like I was a liar with my pants on fire.Read More »