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Published: February 14th 2014
Not much happened during the rest of the month. I attended class, went out with my friends, and kissed a French boy, which unfortunately led nowhere. Have you ever had one of those nights that feels amazing and right at the time but is impossible to duplicate? It's a little like being Cinderella, only Prince Charming doesn't really take the hint.
The last weekend in March I took the train back to London to see the Script in concert. On the way down I made friends with a pair of children named Zi Zi and Ahmed, proving that the best conversations definitely don't have to involve adults. I met up with Natalia and a friend of hers, and we began our visit with the Tate Modern. I'll come right out and say it: I despise modern art as a whole. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but to me, filling a piano with potatoes and attaching a statement to it is not art. Would anybody like to give me a million dollars to get violently drunk and chuck paint all over a canvas? Of course not, but you'll drown Jackson Pollock in your money. My favorite moment was
when I was staring at a mirror hanging on the wall next to a placard that read, "Art is a reflection of the world around us." I would like to once again stress that there was nothing else to it. I was staring at it in mute rage when Natalia's friend walked up beside me and crossed his arms.
"I could be a modern artist," he said.
I cracked up laughing because I'd had the exact same thought. "We should quit our day jobs and be artists. Can't be too hard if these douchebags are doing it."
Kiss my sassafras, hipsters. A lot of modern pieces suck. Here's a hint: if what you're doing can be duplicated by 99% of the population, it's not special, and it sure as hell isn't art. We did see several beautiful pieces that took real effort to create, and those aren't the ones I'm talking about.
We didn't do much more before the concert, which took place at the O2 arena. This was amazing to me, as I'd previously only seen the boys play smaller venues in the States, but in Europe they are hot stuff. Up until a couple
of years ago, the Script was a band that most people swore they didn't know until you started singing one of their songs, and it was very frustrating because I think they're one of the most talented bands out there. The concert was fantastic, and they ended it with a giant shower of gold confetti. I still have a piece of it tucked in my wallet.
The next morning, Natalia went off on her own to visit with her friend, and I walked down to the British Museum. I'd told myself that I wouldn't go see it in protest of the government's refusal to return the Parthenon statues, but it was free. I know I'm just an American and it's literally none of my business, but this is getting ridiculous. Anyway, the British Museum is definitely worth a look if you're a history nerd. Their Egyptian section is nearly unparalleled in that part of the world, and it's amazing to be less than a foot away from important artifacts like the Rosetta Stone and the Assyrian winged bulls. I'm a very tactile person, and I had to constantly whisper to myself, "Mustn't touch, Kelsey. Mustn't touch."
like how inclusive their exhibits are. Obviously they couldn't showcase every culture, but I did see Inuit and Mexican exhibits as well as several from countries in Africa. They weren't quite as extensive as the others, often occupying only a single room, but they were enough to whet my appetite.
I had a picnic lunch since it was nice outside, and then met up with Natalia for a visit to the Natural History Museum, because I really am that much of a nerd. The entryway is really cool: you walk amongst statues representing key figures in Earth's history and mythology, and then you step onto an escalator and ascend up into this fantastic representation of the layers of Earth. There are different zones that deal with geology, ecology, biology, and other -ology words. Seriously though, it's a really cool museum with amazing opal displays and a wicked Camarasaurus
skeleton that takes up half the hall.
This trip ended with a peek at platform 9 at King's Cross Station, which was apparently moved several years ago during construction. This was before they put in a trolley display for platform 9 3/4's, but I still had a mini fangirl episode as I walked by. I grabbed a delicious Cornish pasty and happily munched on it as the train pulled away from London and began the journey home.
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