28 February, 2010 | 1 Comment

My parents are married 40 years today.  Golly, 40 whole years!  That’s a long time.  Congrats, Mom and Dad.

When my parents were my age, they had been married for nearly 20 years and had 2 teenage kids.  My life circumstances could not be more different from that.  I’ve been thinking about that today.  I don’t have much interest in marriage.  I’m not against it and perhaps I’ll end up married one day, but it’s just not something I focus on.  I grew up in a very conservative and religious place, where everyone gets married under the age of 25.  They go on two dates with someone and they’re engaged.  They pair up and marry people that they don’t even really know very well or care about that much.  Then they have tons of kids.  That particular region of the country has a very high anti-depressant and suicide rate, which is not a coincidence.  So even though my parents don’t have this kind of marriage, growing up in that particular culture scarred me in weird ways.  I’ve been running from it my whole adult life.

I’ve gotten to that age where people think it’s strange that I’m not married.  I’m not sure when this subtle shift happened.  When you’re young, people always say “you’re not married yet” but then at some point, they drop the “yet.”  I’ve arrived at that point.

Recently I saw the film “Up in the Air” with George Clooney.  It was a bit unsettling how much I identified with the George Clooney character.  I’m not quite as cynical as him, but I recognized a lot of myself in that guy – someone who floats through life without getting too attached to places, people or things.  This is not the ideal way to be.  At the same time, I know a lot of people my age who are married because they’re afraid to be alone or because it’s just what people do – they get married.  I’m so glad I’m not that way.  One of the greatest strengths I have is that I’m not afraid to be alone and I don’t crave societal acceptance.

So anyway, this is a strange anniversary post, but there you go.  My parents set a good example for what marriage can be.  At the same time, they didn’t raise me to be obsessed with marriage.  I didn’t grow up brainwashed into thinking my future wedding day with the fancy white gown and bridesmaids dresses was going to be the happiest day of my existence and my raison d’être.  And I do think this kind of mentality is the result of widespread brainwashing throughout our culture.  It’s so nice to have grown up without that kind of pressure and expectation.  So thanks Mom & Dad and Happy Anniversary!

27 February, 2010 | 5 Comments

when you realize that doing a PhD was a mistake; when you realize that “English” is an increasingly irrelevant subject matter and a waste of time;  when you realize that academia isn’t the place for creative people; when you realize that the cliche ‘those who can’t, teach’ is true; when you wonder what career you can do besides teaching, because you don’t like teaching anymore and aren’t good at it; when you realize that your novel is crap

when you worry that having a PhD will make you seem over-qualified for the receptionist job you’ll need to get when you graduate, since you’re not qualified to do anything else

23 February, 2010 | 2 Comments

If you happen to be flying on Singapore Airlines, check out my photo in the Classic Romantic Movie Getaways article.  It’s a photo of the grocery in Montmartre made famous by Amelie.  It’s a terrible photo (which is why I’m not posting it here), but it’s currently circling the globe and I did get paid for it!

22 February, 2010 | 8 Comments

I don’t really care about sports that much, and I get annoyed with people who are whipped into a patriotic fervor over stuff like this, but I’ll make an exception today – because this is just too awesome:

The stadium was a sea of red-shirted home fans for what was being billed as one of the most-anticipated clashes in Canadian hockey history.

Banners proclaiming “Our home, our game” were displayed by partisan supporters who swamped the scattered pockets of USA fans.

…and then the Canadian team got their asses kicked.

Woot woot!  This has made my day, y’all.

19 February, 2010 | 3 Comments

For those who care about such things, my throat is healed.  What hell I have been through this past week!  Perhaps you know this feeling, but sometimes when you get really sick, it’s impossible to imagine ever feeling well again.  I’ve been swallowing normally for decades, but just 3 or 4 days of a sore throat and I’m convinced I’ll never swallow or eat or drink again.  Now I must figure out how to prevent myself getting sick again.  I wrote in the comments of my previous post that I have lessened my workload somewhat, which should help, but I’ve got to do more.

16 February, 2010 | 6 Comments

Once again I am ill, this time with the worst sore throat I’ve had in 20 years, easily.  The glands in my neck are so swollen I can barely turn my head.  Last night, drinking water made me want to cry.  The doc said I don’t have strep or tonsillitis, just a viral infection.  I must say I have difficulty believing that diagnosis.

2010, why are you being so unkind to me?

3 February, 2010 | 6 Comments

Tonight on the bus ride home, my friend and I were discussing which Los Angeles freeway interchange would be the best if you wanted to drop a body from an off-ramp or overpass onto the freeway and have lots of cars run over the splattered remains.  [And since it's SoCal, no one would probably even stop to help.]  Since my friend and I are both American, we were talking about this pretty loudly and people started to turn around and look at us.  I think they were freaked out, thinking we were a couple of assassins.  We didn’t bother to set the record straight.  All Americans are violent killers at heart – let’s keep that stereotype afloat.

If there are any SoCal folks out there who might know of such an interchange, give me a holler.  There needs to be grass or some sort of greenery off to the side of the freeway, because people picking up trash will discover the body there, thinking it’s the remains of an animal.  Having a well-known landmark nearby would be helpful too.

Oh yeah – this is for my novel.  I’m not planning on killing anyone.

30 January, 2010 | 8 Comments

On Thursday and Friday, I suffered the worst physical pain I have ever felt in my entire life.  I was suffering from an ailment that we all get from time to time and which is not normally a big deal, but for some reason my little situation turned extreme.  [I won't share any further details, because, you know, TMI, but it wasn't a "female" thing - just a "human" thing.]

Oh. My. God. I have never given birth, but the pain I felt had to be equal to that.  It was literally excruciating.  I’m talking about the kind of pain that makes you scream involuntarily.  It wasn’t constant pain, but came and went.  When it hit, I had to psyche myself up and muster every ounce of willpower and energy I could just to survive without blacking out.  I never thought I could withstand that level of pain.  Last year I suffered from sciatica – that was a walk in the park compared to this.  I’m not a wimp, either.  I’ve had surgeries and a whole host of problems in my life.  I had double pneumonia once, which was the worst misery I have ever felt, but it didn’t cause pain.  What happened yesterday was sheer, pure pain.  Unfortunately, given the nature of the problem, the only type of pain killer that would work would be something like anesthesia from a doctor.

I did call NHS Direct yesterday and spoke to a nurse, which was helpful.  There really isn’t much doctors can do for you unless the situation lingers on for a long time, so I was stuck caring for myself at home, though the Boots pharmacist did give me something that ultimately ended the problem.  As of today I am okay, but if this problem hadn’t gone away last night, I would have been at the ER this morning, begging them to just to knock me out.  I’m so relieved it didn’t come to that.

21 January, 2010 | 8 Comments

On Tuesday night I was going home on a double-decker bus from Bloomsbury.  The bus was speeding down Kingsway when all of a sudden the driver slammed on the brakes; this was followed by loud, multiple thuds as the bus crashed into something.  As often happens in the midst of an accident, time seemed to slow down; even though it all happened relatively quickly, it felt as if it were happening in slow motion and a million thoughts ran through my mind: Is the bus going to flip over?  Are we plowing into a bunch of cars?  Have we run off the road?  I was facing the back of the bus, so I had no idea what was happening.

Once the bus came to a halt, it was clear that we had hit a pedestrian. People were screaming. In all the confusion, the bus driver opened the doors, the guy we hit stumbled onto the bus, then collapsed and lost consciousness.  People were shouting that an ambulance needed to be called and multiple people called the emergency services.  A student nurse was on the bus and was examining the guy where he was at the foot of the stairs, totally motionless.  He looked dead.  She said he had a pulse and was breathing, but that his eyes were fixed in space.  She thought he had a serious spinal injury.  She lifted up his shirt and we could see the wounds from where the bus had hit him.

I was really stunned and along with the other passengers, got off the bus and stood on the pavement.  All of Kingsway was backed up behind us, since no one could get by.  If you’re familiar with Kingsway (near the London School of Economics), then you know it’s not possible for a pedestrian to cross the street; between the northbound and southbound lanes, there are iron gates and a steep drop down into a tunnel.  So the guy we hit should not, under any circumstances, have been in the street.  This is why cars and buses speed down Kingsway and what makes it so dangerous.

As we stood near the bus, we all thought the guy was on the verge of death (or possibly already dead).  About 5 to 10 minutes later the paramedics arrived.  As they stepped onto the bus, something completely bizarre happened. The victim leapt to his feet and ran to the back doors of the bus, where he manually opened them (which takes a bit of strength).  The crowd gasped in shock.  A minute before he seemed dead, now he was on his feet and ripping the doors open.  He jumped off the bus and was acting crazed; he ripped off his jacket and threw it in a rubbish bin, then began to run down the street.  I cannot tell you how surreal this was.  A woman who had been on the sidewalk and witnessed the accident said the bus had slammed into him hard and that it was unbelievable he could even stand up, let alone run.  At the end of the block, he collapsed.  The police and medics ran to him and as they were examining him, he jumped up and attacked them in an extremely violent way; it took 5 or 6 people to restrain him.  He was screaming like a madman; I don’t know what he was saying, but it sounded really scary echoing into the night, especially given that it seemed he had just come back from the dead.  He sounded demonic.  A police officer walked by and said the guy was “off his tits” on some illegal drug – I can’t remember the name.

It seemed to me and everyone else that this guy had to have suffered major internal injuries when the bus hit him.  Even with powerful narcotics in his system, I don’t understand how he could have gotten up, especially because he had lost consciousness before.  He probably hurt his chances for survival by running around like that, particularly if he had a spinal injury.  I don’t know if he survived or not, or what his fate will be.  In London, it’s very difficult to get local news of this kind, so I may never know.

Our bus driver went into shock and had to be wrapped in a blanket.  The police didn’t take witness statements or anything, which I thought was odd.  As soon as it became clear the guy was a druggie, the mood of the crowd changed somewhat.  There was less sympathy; the police and medics were very hardened with him – I’m sure they must deal with people like this everyday and it’s exhausting and a drain on the system.  [I'm sure being attacked doesn't help their mood.]

This area of London is extremely dangerous for pedestrians.  About three years ago, I stumbled upon the aftermath of a horrific accident at Holborn, where a double-decker bus had lost control, driven up onto the pavement, hit a woman and dragged her under the bus.  Of course she died.   If you have occasion to travel through this area (Southampton Row/Holborn/Kingsway), be super careful.  And if you ride a bike through this area, you’re insane.

This incident left me feeling quite shaken and I ended up walking home afterwards, the sound of the thuds when we hit the guy ringing in my ears.  It’s scary to be sitting on a bus reading Henry James one instant, and then the next a person is violently injured and perhaps even killed right in front of you.  My sense of safety is still shaken by it and I haven’t been back on a bus yet; when I’m waiting to cross the street and a bus or a big truck races by, I feel my stomach clench.  Accidents like this can happen anywhere, but city life just seems to be pretty brutal sometimes.  Life and death in the cold, dark streets.

3 January, 2010 | 5 Comments

I had an upsetting experience on New Year’s Eve, yet another confrontation with a male stranger who was menacing and abusive.  I don’t know why this keeps happening.

I was doing laundry around 6:00 p.m.  Not a fun task for NYE, but I wanted to wake up to clean laundry on the first day of 2010.   I live in a building with hundreds of people, but there are only two washers and two dryers down in the basement, which is a real hassle.  I was lucky enough to snag both washers.  I timed my wash cycle, but apparently mis-timed it by a minute or so, because when I got down to the laundry room, this guy in his mid-twenties was waiting.  As soon as he saw me, he said, “Are those your clothes?” in a very unfriendly way.

I looked at him and said, “Yep.”  Nothing more.  I don’t engage with rude people.

I opened the washer and as soon as I felt my clothes, I knew the spin cycle hadn’t worked properly, which often happens here.  My clothes were dripping with water.  So I removed an item of clothing, went to the sink and wrung it out, then threw it in the dryer.  I proceeded this way, removing clothes from the washer, wringing them out and then placing them in the dryer.  This guy was watching everything I was doing with his arms folded.  I explained the spin cycle wasn’t working, that I’d need to wring out my clothes and it would take a few minutes.

At this, the guy went nuts.  He said he didn’t have all day, that I had to remove my clothes and put them in the dryer.  I said I didn’t want the dryer to be filled with water, that it would only take a minute to wring them out, but he kept ranting and raving.  He began to berate me for not being down in the laundry room the second the washers stopped running, behaving as if my crime was as serious as murder.  He got right in my face to intimidate me.

Who gets this upset over laundry?  As you might imagine, this was scary.  I was down in the basement alone with this guy and it was clear to me that he’s a potentially violent person.  He was totally flipping out over nothing.  He said in a very menacing way, “If you don’t get your clothes out of there, I’m taking them out.”

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1 January, 2010 | 2 Comments

Happy 2010, my lovelies!  Wishing you all a wonderful New Year, filled with champagne wishes and caviar dreams.

I normally enter the New Year full of plans and dreams for the next twelve months, but this January 1st I feel…nervous. The last few years have been fairly predictable. I knew what to expect – writing, teaching, university life, more of the same.  But this year is different. I should be excited, since if all goes according to plan, I’ll finish writing my novel this year and obtain my PhD sometime this summer. I am excited, but this is clouded somewhat by the knowledge that to achieve these things, I will need to push myself like never before. I’ll need to produce very high-level artistic and academic work in a relatively short period of time and it’s not for certain that I can pull this off. Because I switched dissertation topics after my first year, I have lost a whole year of the PhD, which puts me at a disadvantage time-wise. I’m feeling the pinch now. What I accomplish over the next three months will likely determine my success overall, so if you’re at all inclined to think happy thoughts for me, please do!

I also don’t know what will happen after the PhD. Opportunities for PhDs in the humanities are scarce in the best of times, but we’re in one of the worst recessions of modern times. There won’t be a job waiting for me, that’s for certain, so then what will I do to make a living? Where will I live? I really have no idea.

So yes, I’m excited to (I hope) achieve two major goals this year, but the reality of life afterwards is weighing on my mind. It’s scary not knowing what I’ll be doing exactly one year from now. I really have no idea what the future holds and that is a scary position to be in.

I guess all any of us know for certain is that 2010 begins today and it’ll unfold one day at a time. We’ll see where it takes us.

31 December, 2009 | Comments

It’s the last day of 2009, but I’m not in a very reflective mood.  This year had its ups and downs, but it was pretty non-descript.  I don’t look back and think, “Gee, that sucked,” so I guess I’m making progress.  I’d rather look forward to 2010, which I’ll do tomorrow.

This week I’ve been immersed in research on prostitution, sex trafficking and pornography, which probably accounts for my subdued mood.  I spent part of the summer doing this research as well and a little bit in the spring too.  That’s one thing that stands out about 2009 – this descent into the darkness of exploitation, cruelty and misogyny.  It’s not a fun task, but it’s necessary for my work and it’s changed me in a fundamental way.  One thing is for certain: Once I finish my PhD in 2010, I will become much more active in these causes.  My eyes were opened in 2009.  Looking away, closing my eyes and pretending not to see what’s happening will never be an option again.

28 December, 2009 | 5 Comments

I got an email from a guy who works at the travel magazine of Singapore Airlines – they want to use some of the “Amelie” photos I took in Montmartre for an article.  My email exchange with this guy reminded me, sadly, that my photography habit has died.  This is due in large part to the PhD taking over my life (let’s blame that for everything!).  Also, since I switched to a Mac, I have really been hampered by their photo software.  Whoever designed iPhoto should be shot.  iPhoto is the most useless, counter-intuitive piece of software I’ve ever used.  It’s beyond awful.  I can’t afford to buy Photoshop for my Mac, so I have to pull out my old Dell laptop when I want to edit photos, which isn’t convenient (and when I’m traveling, I don’t have the Dell with me).  So the PhD and the Mac have conspired to make taking photos difficult.  I have a backlog of photos from the summer that I haven’t gone through yet.  I just pulled out these five that I took in Paris in August – all very touristy, but that’s what I like:

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22 December, 2009 | 7 Comments

I guess this will be my last post till after Christmas.  Being on your own and far from home is tough this time of year, so that’s why I’ll be glad when this week is over.  What’s difficult is having nowhere to go for the holidays.  Of course you can make your own plans, as I have done, but that’s different from having a place to go.  Does that make sense?  I know a lot of kind people here, but none of them are sensitive to the fact that it’s difficult to be a displaced person far from home on the holidays.  When I lived in NYC and if I couldn’t go home for any of the holidays, I always received invitations to spend holidays with friends or even co-workers I didn’t know very well.  That’s what people do, don’t they?  That just hasn’t happened here.  I think people want to be with their own families and don’t look outside of that small circle.  All of this is to say that if you know someone who is far from home, or perhaps someone who has no family, extend them an invitation to join you for a meal on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.  It’s a nice thing to do and it will mean a lot to them.  It might be a hassle for you, but what’s the point of Christmas?  For most people nowadays, it seems to have no religious significance.  So then what’s it about?  Shopping?  Eating?  Having time off work?  That’s all fine, but it’s also selfish.  I think it needs to be about something more than that, otherwise it’s just a holiday celebrating consumerism and consumption.

As for me, I have my own plans.  And I’ve received shipments from family and friends from home containing the following: Lucky Charms, Motrin, See’s Candy (the best!), a pure chocolate Santa Claus, Lifesavers and Reese’s peanut butter Christmas trees (!), DVDs, books and of course, underwear.   I also bought the complete series of Poirot (starring David Suchet), which is great for watching while curled up in bed.

Merry Christmas everyone.

22 December, 2009 | 7 Comments

I had an okay birthday yesterday.  The weather couldn’t possibly have been more miserable, but then I guess it was the first day of winter, so…

I went to see Wicked last night.  I don’t really like musicals, unless it’s The Sound of Music or Xanadu.  [Yes, Xanadu.  Do you have a problem with that?]  What I can’t stand is musicals where they sing virtually the entire time with very little normal dialogue.  I’m afraid Wicked falls into this category.  However, I love the Wicked Witch of the West – she’s one of my favorite fictional characters and she’s, like, a personal heroine of mine since I’m a witch and a bitch and goddamn proud of it.  [I'd love to have green flesh - wouldn't that be awesome?]   So anyway, I decided that I must see Wicked at long last.  As I hoped, the Wicked Witch kicked major ass, so she made sitting through all those songs and being surrounded by children for three hours worth it.

The show has some interesting political undertones to it, but they were muddled and the story was a mess – the result of trying to create a show with mass appeal.  Witches are, of course, very loaded symbols historically and from a feminist perspective.  Once I finish the PhD and have my life back again, I may read the novel Wicked, since I’m curious to get the full story.  The play just skims the surface.  This is rich material, so I hope the novel does something good with it.  Interestingly, I read in the program last night that L. Frank Baum’s mother-in-law was Matilda Gage!  [If you're American and you don't know who Matilda Gage is - for shame!]  Knowing this makes me think of The Wizard of Oz in a slightly different light.  I don’t really know anything about Baum, but now I wonder if he had feminist sympathies.

In addition to seeing Wicked, there was an overnight stay in Belgravia, sleeping on the world’s most comfortable mattress.  Seriously, I pulled off the sheets to get a look at the tag.  But then this morning it was back to the humiliation of sleeping on a twin-sized mattress in the slums of Souf London.

So there’s the birthday gone for another year.  If only Christmas were over too.  [Yeah, I'm a scrooge this year.  So be it.]

18 December, 2009 | 2 Comments

I’m not sure if anyone has seen the recent movie “2012.”  I haven’t seen it, but apparently it’s based on a Mayan prophecy that says the world will come to an end on December 21st, 2012.  A quick internet search turns up many websites stating that the apocalypse will occur on this date or, alternatively, a new age of spiritual enlightenment will be unleashed on earth.  Wikipedia has a whole page about it, with tons of resources.  There is even a Complete Idiot’s Guide to 2012, which has this description on Amazon: “On December 21, 2012, the Mayan calendar will complete its thirteenth cycle. According to the Mayan belief system, the world will end. And if you don’t believe the Mayans, you can check in with The Bible Code, The Nostradamus Code, or The Orion Prophecy, all of which predict planet-wide doom.”

I find all of this to be quite amusing, since December 21st, 2012 will be my 40th birthday.  Really, turning 40 (or any age that ends in a zero) is stressful enough – who needs the added stress of thinking the world might end?  This website even has a countdown clock to the dreaded date – the date of the world’s end and my 40th birthday.  This is surreal.  I have a feeling that everyone is going to go nuts as this date approaches, reminiscent of Y2K.  I would say to you all that there’s nothing to worry about, but my family doesn’t have a very good track record: My mom celebrated her 50th birthday on September 11th, 2001.

At least I know what the theme for my 40th birthday party will be:

WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!!!!!!!!

So anyway, just a friendly warning that 3 years from Monday, it’s curtains.

15 December, 2009 | 8 Comments

It is so bitterly cold right now!  We’re expecting snow.  It’s so cold it hurts to be outside.

I was taken out for an early birthday dinner this evening.  Since the restaurant was my choice, I chose Mexican!  My favorite.  We don’t have enough Mex restaurants here in London.  We had planned to go to Wahaca, but the wait was over an hour, so we went to Cafe Pacifico instead, which is nearby in Covent Garden. The food was yummy. It was very gringo-fied.  My guess is that Wahaca is more authentic, but who cares – guacamole, cheese, flour tortillas, corn chips, salsa – heaven!  I forgot how filling Mexican food is though – or maybe it was just the sheer volume of what we ate.  I normally subsist on Subway sandwiches or cereal for dinner, so this was indeed a treat.  [However, they did have rabbit pot pie on the menu.  That's just wrong on so many levels.]

In Covent Garden this evening, I visited the most darling sweet shop – Hope and Greenwood.  If you’re in London, stop by.  It’s a great place for gifts and it’s just so cute inside, like walking back in time.  I managed to spend £30 in there tonight.  They have sugar mice!

I like to complain about the neighborhood where I live (and really, it sucks) but I can be in Covent Garden and the West End in about 10 minutes or so by bus. Not too shabby.

14 December, 2009 | 5 Comments

I’ve been accepted to present at a major academic conference stateside in the early spring – I’ll be reading from my novel.  Yay!  I’m also reading at a conference here in January, which is a smaller conference and will be good practice.  I feel like such an academic.  It’s a bit strange because my novel has thus far been a private, personal thing that no one else has read in its entirety – now it’s going to be shared with many others.  I guess the time had to come eventually.

In other news, I went Christmas shopping this afternoon.  I was actually having a good time, feeling all Christmassy and jolly.  But after about an hour it was like get me outta here!   I can only tolerate so much Christmas-consumerist joy.   After a while it’s about as much fun as a fork in the eye.  Ho ho ho.

10 December, 2009 | 3 Comments

Well, to update my previous post, I’ve been set straight on the whole magazine issue!  I’ve put the magazine back in the novel and broadened the scope a bit so that there’s an online version of the magazine and also, the editor of the magazine (who my character works for) appears on TV as well.  So it’s more dynamic now, but retains the magazine that I really missed when I took it out.

I have been writing very intensely this week.  I go for about three hours, then must stop because I get a headache.  So I take a break and then try to write for three more hours, and so on.  After tomorrow I am free from all other responsibilities until the middle of January.  Hurrah!  My goal is to revise the first 300 pages of the novel during my time off.  I still have a few chapters left to write, but I’ve decided to go back to the beginning and do some revision.  This will help me get reacquainted with my character in the early chapters and maintain continuity of voice.  Also, I need to start sending proposals out to agents and if I get lucky, someone may request to see the first chapters, so I want to be prepared.  I met with my supervisor this week and I really need to get an agent and try to at least get a publishing deal, otherwise I have no chance of getting a university job.  I don’t necessarily want a university job anymore – I’d rather write and perhaps work as a visiting lecturer here and there – but on a practical level, I will likely need a full-time job to support myself.  I’m too old not to be realistic about that.

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26 November, 2009 | 22 Comments

If it were legal to have a gun here then I would buy one and carry it with me.  I’m totally serious.

Tonight I was walking home and some guy started to follow me.  I know when someone is following me.  I went into a shop to buy something and he also went into the shop.  As soon as I came out, he was waiting outside and started to follow me again.  Though it was only around 6pm, it was pitch dark, no different than if it were midnight.  While the high street had a lot of people walking around, I was heading into an area with not enough street lights and with abandoned buildings and far fewer people (which is why I hate this neighborhood so much).  Thankfully, Southwark Police Station was nearby.  I could see it about a block away, so I turned around and said to this thug very loudly, “Stop following me!  The police are right there and I’m going to the police!”  He was a bit stunned, but then started to speak, saying something like he just wanted to talk to me or something.  Unbelievable.  So I screamed “GET AWAY FROM ME!!!”  I walked off and headed towards the police station, then I turned around and he was gone.  After this I walked home through the very dark and semi-deserted streets and felt very afraid.  If he were somehow following me and approached me at this point, who knows what would have happened.

Less than a week ago, I had another unpleasant experience.  I was outside of London in a small town and a guy said something very rude and misogynist to me.  Then he drove off.  This particular guy was white British, the guy in the previous story was an immigrant from somewhere in Africa.

You know what – I’m really sick of this shit.  I’m sick of not feeling safe and I’m sick of abuse – all coming from strange men in the street.  I will start to carry some sort of weapon with me, but I don’t know what.  Any ideas?  It’s really ridiculous that pepper spray is illegal here, because that would be ideal.  Whatever I start to carry with me, I will use it on anyone who makes me free threatened and anyone who treats me in an abusive way.  I’ve had enough.