Crazy Kids

This is, oddly enough, my fovorite photo of the lot. Lovely girl.





We shared coffee and mittens at the green line coach station, tired but happy in spite of the rubbish brew in the pretty cup.

For anyone at Moody, don't worry, it isn't real. Just a magnet or maybe I photoshopped the photo. For everyone else, look what my wicked sister talked me into in Camden Market.

That was her permanent expression in Trafalger Square, and no I hands down refuse to look up Trafalger to learn how to properly spell it.

This was when Helen figured out how to focus the camera on something off center, a landmark in her flourishing photography career.

This is our trip. Chipped nail polish, Kierkegaard with some random person's underlining and notes all through it (suppose thats the price of stealing books from Moody's library), and an obscenely large thumb ring. Not sure how the thumb ring relates but I am certain it does.

This was my permanent inner expression, a ridiculous grin frozen on my inner face.

Isn't she lovely?




My hat. Actually Banney's hat. Very warm.

We bought two coffees and nicked the comfy chairs in starbucks for two hours. I think we got our money's worth, even if the coffee was abysmal.

This is where we used the amazing free bathrooms and looked at maybe three portraits. Loveit.

Wicked and her Christmas gift.

This photo is elseware on the web, but deserved a second post. Marvelous.

Amazing and amazingly cold. Shiver.

It doesn't look much like a tube here, but it was. And apparently there was a giant "pee stain" on the wall there which Helen won't let me forget I made her stop by for this photo.

This photo also is not original to this post, but it is such a wonderful photo of Helen's and I look so like the character's in horror films that always get killed off in the first ten minutes, I couldn't pass it up.

Helen was terribly embarrassed that I would have the camera out and be taking loud pictures during the bus ride to London, but I would not be stopped. The haunting frost-glazed fog-filled sunrise-lit morning was too much for me to pass up.

We had a laugh or two. A minute.

I just love the sun reflecting off the windows of that o-so-European building there. Couldn't resist.




These are the doughnuts we bought in Tesco edxpress and illegally smuggled into the National Portrait Gallery to eat with cold, sludglike, extortionately expensive coffee.

Happy as clams, tubing the tunnels of London's subteranean.

Yes, those were actually Jodi's gloves that we were sharing.