Real Londoners wear black

Real Londoners wear black. This is what I have discovered by playing my new game I fondly refer to as “guess where people are from based on what they are wearing.” Everyday during my hour-long lunch break I wander down the street behind the building where I work through this adorable produce and flower market. Whatever smells the strongest is what I buy (and I usually regret buying it because it, in fact, smells the strongest) and then I sit on the curb and people watch. This is what I have concluded:

Anyone wearing all black, or all khaki: real, legitimate Londoner
Anyone wearing bright colors/crocs/skimpy clothes: Americans

It is hard to sum up all that I have seen and done in the last few days. Somewhere between Big Ben, Parliament, church at Westminister Abbey, high tea at the Kensington Palace, late night stroles on the London Bridge and cute British pubs I have found little time for sleep. Observing this lifestyle is not enough- I want to live it. I've been drinking tea instead of coffee and am constantly referring to french fries as "chips." Probably because "chips" have become a staple in my diet recently. Oh well, when in Rome....

Tonight was the European premier of Kung Fo Panda. While I was not jumping up and down to see this flick, I was really excited to see Angelina Jolie, Jack Black (who was close enough that I could have kissed him, if I had decided to do so) and Dustin Hoffman. We are all kind of best friends now. No big deal. 

While I love my job (and moderately feel like a British version of the Hills on occasion) I feel like work is just something to pass the time between each cute produce market, Shakespeare in the park performance, or afternoon tea. I miss home, but for now I am satisfied with this being home.