Monday, January 18, 2010

Your love is my drug. (Well your Food Halls are at least Harrod's.)

(I desperately need a break from my post colonial literature.)

If I could live in a magical world all to my self, I would live in Harrod's. For real. The mega-store of luxury is basically every little girl's dream. There are floors upon floors of the finest shoes, coats, coffee makers, dresses, chocolates, espresso machines, vases, tables, rugs, etc. etc. It's magnificent and a little more than slightly ridiculous.

Regardless, I got to go explore a little today with Mary Lou (xoxo Seymours!), and I may have to publicly apologize for the lack of conversation skills I possessed while in the store. I'm sorry I can't speak when my mind is buzzing from a watch to a scarf to a pastry to a truffle to a pump to a chocolate pump?!

Yes, Harrod's was serving chocolate shoes.

(CHOCOLATE SHOES!) I really don't think I need to say anything more.

Today I also had my first deli coffee. 90p and the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. (I see why Europeans walk so much, its so they can afford to have super coffee with real milk and sugar. I support this way of life.)

My delicious coffee was immediately followed by running into prime individual numero uno on the street. First a pub, now a street, next thing I know I'll be seeing him when I run off to York for the viking festival!

Oh yes folks, in mid/late February vikings take over the town of York. Due to the sad fact that Eric Northman will not be attending, my giant hope for this fabulous weekend to come is that are giant chicken legs, or some other barbaric food on a stick. :)

School starts tomorrow. I must continue contextualizing how Brits textualized colonialism in the nineteenth century. Woot.

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