Kaleidoscope Project On Location: London-town

I'm back!  Did you miss me?

I have a whole slew of photos from the Land Over the Pond that I want to share over the next few days (which is just as well, because I just looked outside and NYC is drizzly and gray - so I'm down with anything that lets me put off documenting NYC for awhile).

Let's start a little out of order, with London.  Having lived there before, I was a little skeptical whether I'd still find it interesting to "pop" around to all of the old tourist spots.  But pop I did, and it was surprisingly fun!  I highly recommend such poppery to all.

Here we go.

Trafalgar Square, looking suspiciously ominous.  Also, the pigeons are gone!!  I was both relieved (as I hate those buggers) and a little disappointed not to be overwhelmed immediately by the smell of feathers and poo.

It's just not New Yorkers who love their sidewalk art.  What you can't see is the note next to the art that said "Please take photos!!"  I found the need for attention endearing.  Apparently the artist needed more than just love.

Dude, their faces were everywhere.

I was deeply disappointed to trek all the way to Leicester Square, only to be greeted by a giant barrier.  From what I could tell, most of London is being redone for the Games.  Some seriously house-cleaning is underway, people.

Where Sarni took me on our first date.  For those of you not familiar with the Trocadero, it's, um, an arcade.  Hmm, this suddenly explains a lot of the gifts I receive from Sarni.  I bagged me a serious Mr. Romantic, amIrite?

Seriously, SERIOUSLY, 97% of why I could never ever live in London.  Seriously.  I may be the only person who wants to punch the "Mind the Gap" woman.

Even pigeons sometimes need to make phone calls.

Is it strange that I saw this sign and freaked out a little?

The war ship around the corner did nothing to reassure me of my safety.


London.  On Canon Powershot.

Hello bloggees!  I'm back from a mini-break to Chester, England (seriously, I am way British now, yo).  I realized that I don't have access to my super-fancy, incredibly high-tech paintbrush squiggle device on my netbook, so I can't post any photos with people until I get back.  In the meantime, please enjoy this collection of oddities/ironies.

The letter "a" obeys the mandate of the sign a little too closely.

A former abbey that presumably shunned material wealth now houses a financial conglomerate.  Two very unfinancial individuals loiter in front.

No beating around the bush here.  (What I especially love is how the sign starts off so posh-sounding:  "Bravissimo - please do not hesitate to consult our knowledgeable advisors for all your big-boobed needs.")

The owners of these two cars clearly have insect-inspired aspirations.

Speechless, right?  And not just because MLK made speeches.  No, I'm speechless for a completely different reason.

Just in case you thought it hadn't gone far enough.  Funny or offensive?  Discuss.


On Canon Powershot and iPhone.  Chester, England.

Special thanks to Mountie for taking superb photos of Martin Loofah King on his fancy iPhone 4.  We covet his flash and zoom.

Kaleidoscope Project On Location: Land of Hope and Glory

Greetings from lush, beautiful England!  While Sarni and I have been busy with many fun family events (happy birthday again, Pa Sarni!), I have been terribly remiss in not taking enough photos for my bloggees.  (Am I sounding English?  Sometimes I like to pretend I'm Elizabeth Bennett.)

Anyway, to tide you over, here are two teaser photos.  Just as I've always noticed the stuffed animals dotted around NYC, there are two very prominent stuffed friends that greet me on every visit to England.  The famous Paddington Bear seems to be sitting on everyone's staircase, whether in an old-fashioned, partly-undressed, chest-baring form (on Ma Sarni's stairs) . . .

. . . or the sexy, modern new toggle-jacket-and-suitcase form (sitting on Boz's stairs).

Paddington Bear.  Coming to a staircase near you.


UPDATE:  We have a third contender!!  Boz's hubby Mountie* just sent me the following photo of a THIRD Paddington Bear.  This Paddington Bear, with his shockingly rebellious non-blue coat, resides in an entirely different part of England at Mountie's parents house.  He still, however, chills out on the stairs.  Maybe there's a British memo that goes out, requiring all English staircases to be patrolled by a vigilant Paddington Bear.  Adorable suitcase optional.

*Mountie, as we never fully agreed on your code name, I made an executive decision.  Don't worry, it's open to appeal.

England.  On Canon Powershot.

Sarni, Master of Science

Congratulations, Sarni, on your well-earned (additional) degree from one of NYC's best universities!

Soon, you too will be . . . um . . . taunting chubby children by holding a book out of their reach.  Apparently.


New York City.  On Canon Powershot.

Organic vs. Predator

Cuddles and I decided to turn over a new leaf and try some of NYC's healthy-eating establishments.  Well, to be fair, I decided to turn over a new leaf, Cuddles was more like a reluctant participant.

We started our mission by having lunch at The Organic Grill (after Cuddles vetoed any restaurant that overused the following terms:  "macrobiotic," "tempeh," "seitan" or "raw food movement").  The Organic Grill sure didn't taste healthy - here's a shot of the guac and chips we shared as an appetizer (note that Cuddles can make a mean guac that could kick this guac's little green butt).  And, frankly, it wasn't the most friendly place we've been to (aren't healthy people supposed to be happy?).  But it was probably a nice place to ease in to the healthy eating movement.  I was okay with my mushroom "burger" on whole wheat bun, and Cuddles was "eh" about her tofu frittata, but hey.  At least nothing was macrobiotic.

On the walk back from lunch, we passed this inexplicable replica of what I believe is The Predator (you know, from his movie, The Predator).  The sculpture (?) was pretty impressive, and there was a sign that informed us it was made out of recycled motorcycle parts.  We only had two teensy questions.  One, why are the right claws covered in plastic wrap, while the left claws are left unsheathed?  (Good eye, Cuddles.)  Two, why was this standing outside of a women's consignment clothing store?


P.S. Just to let you guys know, Sarni and I will be traveling for most of the month of March.  I will still be posting (hopefully) while "on location," as I will be carrying with me the shiny new Netbook Sarni just gifted to me.  (You guys, it is so cute.)  The posts may be a bit sporadic, depending my ability to access the internet.  I'll be fully back in the driver's seat in April, though.  Happy March, everyone!


East Village.  On Canon Powershot.

Holy Rollers

A little eerie, isn't it?


Flatiron.  On Canon Powershot.

Where You Should Never Take Your Kids

It's been a really long time since I visited FAO Schwarz, the toy-store-on-steroids.  But Sarni and I were in the area, and I decided that I wanted to take some photos for my bloggees, so we went inside.  It was exactly as I remembered it - huge, loud with the shrill and eloquent demands of little children ("I want it, I want it!"), and brimming with chaos.  Also, we didn't feel at all weird being the only people there without kids.  I'm sure that wasn't creepy at all.

It took us a while to find it (mostly because I'm pretty sure they moved it, those sneaky buggers), but the Big Piano still exists!  Made famous by Tom Hanks in Big, it's now a shell of its former self, tucked away in a discreet corner of the store.  That doesn't stop dozens of little kids from going ballistic on its keys, though.  Mmm.  Musical.

One thing that was new - the Harry Potter section!  It was full of wizardry-inspired toys, games and other paraphernalia.  Under the Code of Wizardry, I can't tell you what we did, but I can tell you what we did NOT do.  We did NOT put on the sorting hat to see which Hogwarts House we belonged to.

Happy Feet, the graphic violence version?


Central Park South.  On Canon Powershot.

Sarni at the Plaza

Another "New York" landmark I haven't visited, despite living in Manhattan for several years, is the Plaza.  So Sarni and I ventured there to take a look at what all the fuss is about.  I never read the Eloise books, but I hear that's one chick who really loved her some Plaza.

First we peeked in on Todd English's Plaza "foodcourt" - his answer to Batali's Eataly, apparently.  While we didn't have time to conduct a taste test, we were a little disappointed by the general appearance.  It lacks the passion and bustle of Eataly, and it's much smaller than its Flatiron-Italian counterpart.  On the plus side, however, you can actually sit down and eat at Todd English's place without having to wait for 4 hours.

LovelyCozy, these macarons are for you.

The Plaza was filled with expensive-looking shops and displays, prominently featuring overpriced bags, jewelry and hats.  Nothing says "I'm better than you" quite like a hat with what looks like unicorn hair.

The Plaza employs only the most vigilant security guards to protect its goods.  Watch yourself.  Plaza Security Bear is judging you.


Central Park South.  On Canon Powershot.

The Old with the New

I wonder if the horse is going to get an inferiority complex about the term "horsepower"?


Central Park.  On Canon Powershot

Modern-Day Marketplace

I love Whole Foods.  I mean, I don't love how crowded and stressful it can be shopping at a Whole Foods in Manhattan.  But I do love the smug "look-at-me-I'm-so-ecologically-responsible" feeling I get to flaunt when I shop there.  I love the proud eco-language splashed all over the place - "Organic!"  "Sustainable!"  "CAGE AND OPPRESSION FREE!"

Most of all, I love that it feels like a little market oasis in a very urban sea.  I spent an obscene amount of time hovering over the coffee beans, breathing in the heady coffee scent and occasionally sinking my fingers into the bags of coffee beans a la Amelie.  Finally, a store employee approached me.

Employee:  Um . . . can I help you?

Me:  Oh no, no thanks.  I'm just looking.

Employee:  [gazing skeptically at my hand, which was still sunk deep into the coffee beans]

Me:  And . . . uh . . . touching.

So I withdrew my coffee-scented hand and left the coffee section.  Hmph.  What's the point of having big, inviting bags of coffee beans if customers aren't allowed to contaminate them?

The cheese section, however, was another playground altogether.


Union Square.  On Canon Powershot.

And the Winner is . . . The Gold Naked Man Standing with his Arms Crossed

Sorry guys, this post is a little delayed, since the Oscars have already come and gone in a blur of monotonous hosting (seriously, was James Franco on drugs?) and British triumphs (finally! the Brits have taken back their former colony via cinematic awards and drolly witty acceptance speeches).

Earlier that day, Sarni and I stumbled across an Oscars . . . um . . . event . . . in Grand Central station.

Like a miniature crowd of papparazzi, we took photos of what we finally figured out was a giant, glorified marketing campaign.

On the other hand, we could have (if we had wanted) lined up to have our photo taken with a real "live" Oscar!!  (We did not.)

Here's our slightly blurry, telephoto zoom lens photo of The Real Oscar.  The only question remains, which poor star woke up with a woeful gap on their mantelpiece?  "My Oscar!  It's GONE!"  Dun dun dun.


Grand Central Station.  On Canon Powershot and Canon Rebel SLR.