Monday, January 21, 2013

little faerïe strings

I love grumpy people.

My favorite Sesame Street character has always been Oscar the Grouch.
Always.

Look at how adorable he is
My favorite of the Seven Dwarves has always been Grumpy.
I just love him. He's the best of them all.

He's so precious. (I'm being serious)
And my favorite Austen hero is Mr. Darcy
The most brooding, ill-tempered of the lot.

How can you not smile in the presence of so. much. angst.?
I like grumpy people. Not characters who complain, but characters who are grouchy. There are Whiners, Complainers, and then True Grouches. True Grouches utter nary a peep of complaint, they just grouch and grump and humph.

~

Last Friday, I was cold, hungry, wet, and tired.
Which meant I was extremely cross and grouchy.
I smile and laugh quite a lot, so most people, when I tell a story about being extremely cross and grouchy say: HAHAHA I just can't picture that!
If my mom were to hear that, she would start laughing oh-so-very knowingly.
Usually, when I'm grumpy, I can't shake it unless I go off on my own. Which at home, means me announcing mid-grouch: I'm going on walk. (Or sometimes, when I'm really caught up in the grouches, my mom suggesting: why don't you go on a walk, dear?)

So, I announced in the middle of Harrod's (that department store is probably the size of the Coliseum. #overwhelming.) to my companions: "I'm leaving."
I hadn't decided quite where I was going to go, but as I sat in the tube, feeling cold and hungry, I felt marginally less wet.

I wandered along the Themes, and I stumbled upon a little food market, filled with large frying pans of paella, samosas smoking, and sausages roasting. I stopped at the stand of Italian vendors and tried four different kinds of pesto.
I smiled and chatted with them a bit.
And I fel a little less hungry.

Then, as I walked along my favorite stretch of the river, I came to my favorite bridge tunnel. This bridge tunnel has white tile on the wall, decorated with scenes of London.
As I approached the tunnel, I heard music float towards me.
I stopped, and started walking more slowly.
A man sat in the middle of the tunnel, playing music that was not of this world.
I stopped and listened for a bit.
After a while I had to move on, otherwise my heart would have broken completely.
It was the strangest, most sorrowful song.

Followed by the magic music of the cello, I walked out the other side of the tunnel. And I didn't feel cold or tired or grouchy at all.
I felt so very alive.

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