Going to college in Santa Cruz prepares you for your share of crazy people. In general, people who may or may not have a mental illness; who may or may not be homeless; who may or may not have issues with body odor, verbal control, or twitching. Not that Santa Cruz is a mecca of crazies, just that Santa Cruz is Weird--as Bookshop would have us keep it that way--and it's part of the atmosphere. The edge of craziness, if you like.
In London, I'm just not prepared for crazy. Craziness feels completely out of context here. It's prim, proper, cups of tea, orderly queues, and standard Tube behaviour. The vibe of London doesn't appear to allow for crazy people in the way that Santa Cruz welcomes them.
I think this is why I get so distraught riding the bus going to university. I have the expectation that London is not a crazy city. Therefore, there should be no crazy people on my bus. There's not supposed to be a man who sniggers jabbing statements at random people on the pavement when he alights at his stop. There's not supposed to be a woman who walks with her palms up, open to the energy, chanting under her breath in a post borough of London. The scuffy, ex-biker guy with an odor problem does not wear a gold band of diamonds on his ring finger. And the last he didn't even act crazy!
No, I'm just not prepared for crazy in London. But I think I need to work on that.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
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