Custom Black Sim. Diamond Lollipop ring Custom Black Sim. Diamond 360 Earrings Call or text me at 832-483-1691 to order yours today! I accept western union, moneygram, direct deposit, or paypal.
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Thesis pending studies exquisitediamond crafted in 14K bright white gold. Twenty-five round cut black diamonds are pave set in the center of each slope and the total weight is 3 diamonds. 00 carats. The square frame measures 1 / 2 inches in length and width and locks securely with a locking screw on the back. Weighing approximately 6 grams, thesis? Diamond earrings unique designs are ideal for both adolescent males and females.
Black Diamond Jewelry: A ‘Black and White’ Affair by Apples of Gold Jewelry
Los Angeles, CA (PRWEB) August 2, 2007
Apples of Gold Jewelry’s newest addition to their already existing line of approx. 2,000 unique jewelry pieces is their new black diamond jewelry collection, including black diamond rings, black diamond pendants and black diamond earrings.
The value of black diamond jewelry is manifold: it is unique and aesthetically pleasing, classy yet trendy and substantially less expensive than traditional white diamonds.
A large 2.00 carat black diamond solitaire ring can cost between $ 500-$ 600 on average in today’s market, compared to $ 8,000 – $ 15,000 for a white diamond of the same size (depending of course on the quality of the diamond).
“Black diamonds are in fact natural, genuine diamonds with one caveat: they have been treated to obtain their pure and uniform black color. As for prices, black diamonds are surpassingly lower,” says Afshin Yaghtin, CEO of Apples of Gold Jewelry.
There are “naturally occurring” black diamonds also, but they are very rare and extremely brittle due to their high number of inclusion, and the ones worth anything are exceptionally expensive. One famous naturally occurring black diamond is the sought after Black Orlov, weighing at 67.5 Carats and the Black Star of Africa weighing in at 202.00 Carats.
The naturally occurring black diamond is truly an anomaly and very few will own one. Virtually all black diamonds on the market are treated diamonds which have been altered through irradiation (radiation) or heat treatment.
Another classy black diamond concept is “black and white” diamond jewelry, which combines both black and traditional white diamonds. This creates a very sophisticated and creative look. Take a traditional three stone diamond ring, but instead of the standard white diamond center stone, add a black diamond center stone flanked on each side by two white diamonds. A large 1 3/4 carat “black and white” diamond ring at Apples of Gold Jewelry, for example, will cost an affordable $ 925 (at the time of this publication) vs. approx. $ 7,000 (average) for an “all white” 1 3/4 Carat Three Stone Diamond Ring.
Among other unique styles is Apples of Gold Jewelry’s Filigree Black and White Diamond Ring and their Black and White Diamond Stackable Ring. Apples of Gold Jewelry’s black diamond jewelry collection can be viewed and purchased online at http://applesofgold.com/Black-Diamond-Jewelry-BDJ.html
Within the next month, Apples of Gold Jewelry will also be releasing a new line of blue diamond jewelry, debuting in September/October 2007. Yaghtin is hoping to secure a new line of champagne colored and chocolate colored diamonds to debut by 2008.
Visit Apples of Gold Jewelry, http://applesofgold.com for more information and to view their line of approx. 2,000 jewelry items.
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Image taken on 2009-04-14 18:25:49 by Wootang01.
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Here? ICED these thugs had outstanding. Labmades 14kt gold with black stones. Size o: 11mm x 15mm Ll? Mame at: 306-550-1848 * For your action? needs, you can send an electronic mail? mail: ChillyStonez @ gmail. * Com
Image taken on 2009-04-15 18:52:40 by Wootang01.
? Can you really see? S quality defects? If black diamonds? They are a pair of earrings at a time? E VS princesse.Les black diamond better? “I wonder if this? Ent because they are black, t pleased that a natural diamond. Thanks!
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These earrings are made exquisitediamond? S 14K white gold. Twenty-five round diamonds of size or black are to open in the center of each slope and the total weight is 3 diamonds. 00 carats. Square frame measures? of 1 / 2 inches in length and width and s? SAFETY? locks with? rear screws? return. Weighing approximately 6 grams, these earrings? Nicos study design or diamond is id? Ales for men and women.
Image taken on 2006-07-08 00:00:57 by caribb.
I’m not racist, but I realized? boyz boyz chose.Pourquoi do some good black better than white? ? Qu? about tight pants? s est? n showing his @ $ $? Dress and Old Navy white boyz, like way back in the late Sch? Est? S 30. ? Qu? happens to white guys with these cars? old? ? Why? no? improve their cars and Aparici? n yourself? Mira Black boyz hot. V new clothes, no tight pants? S showing his @ $ $ is and, above all? Last drive? Re BMW and Mercedes Benz, big cha? Gold, non-white, diamond earrings, cute shoes, etc? Qu? happens with these white boyz dr? t smile? measure? And when white boyz get into the cervix? Re, which can cause f? Easily realized her face turns red. But what? I like that about them. M always buy the house? S face, right? Duke? S and sh! T. But my question is: What? white boyz? You tell me.
{description}
At some sensual appeal to any outfit with these lovely 1/4ct black diamond hoop earrings in sterling silver! At this low, low price. The time to order is now!
List Price: $ 149.00
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1/2 Carat Genuine Black Diamond Hoop Earrings | US $119.00 End Date: Wednesday Jan-04-2012 2:17:56 PST Buy It Now for only: US $119.00 Buy it now | Add to watch list |
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Pretty stud earrings showcase prong-set round black onyx earrings. Jewelry is crafted of gleaming sterling silver with a highly polished finish. Sparkling cubic zirconium studs will light up your casual wardrobe. Earrings secure with butterfly clasps.
List Price: $ 9.50
Price: $ 9.50
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This video? O has two Nevaeh Black Diamond jewelry? To earrings. It is 14k white gold with a 2. Natural Black Diamond 00 Ct. The second? Me est? done? 14k yellow gold and has a 1. Natural Black Diamond 35 Ct. jewelry? a Cr? Atrice diamond encrusted jewelry? To Black? Nicos handmade? ? New York. With U by Theodore Mander -? Jewelry? Black Diamond -? Color Diamond Jewelry – Jewelry for Men – imitation jewelery a – Fine gemstone jewelry pearls – www. nevaehjewelry. Com m? Music by Birdman FT. Clipse -? Qu? pas? ? that boy? that
Check out these Black Diamond Earrings images:
IMG_2132
Image by Wootang01
9.4.09
The flight arrived on time; and the twelve hours while on board passed quickly and without incident. To be sure, the quality of the Cathay Pacific service was exemplary once again.
Heathrow reminds me of Newark International. The décor comes straight out of the sterile 80′s and is less an eyesore than an insipid background to the rhythm of human activity, such hustle and bustle, at the fore. There certainly are faces from all races present, creating a rich mosaic of humanity which is refreshing if not completely revitalizing after swimming for so long in a sea of Chinese faces in Hong Kong.
Internet access is sealed in England, it seems. Nothing is free; everything is egregiously monetized from the wireless hotspots down to the desktop terminals. I guess Hong Kong has spoiled me with its abundant, free access to the information superhighway.
11.4.09
Despite staying in a room with five other backpackers, I have been sleeping well. The mattress and pillow are firm; my earplugs keep the noise out; and the sleeping quarters are as dark as a cave when the lights are out, and only as bright as, perhaps, a dreary rainy day when on. All in all, St. Paul’s is a excellent place to stay for the gregarious, adventurous, and penurious city explorer – couchsurfing may be a tenable alternative; I’ll test for next time.
Yesterday Connie and I gorged ourselves at the borough market where there were all sorts of delectable, savory victuals. There was definitely a European flavor to the food fair: simmering sausages were to be found everywhere; and much as the meat was plentiful, and genuine, so were the dairy delicacies, in the form of myriad rounds of cheese, stacked high behind checkered tabletops. Of course, we washed these tasty morsels down with copious amounts of alcohol that flowed from cups as though amber waterfalls. For the first time I tried mulled wine, which tasted like warm, rancid fruit punch – the ideal tonic for a drizzling London day, I suppose. We later killed the afternoon at the pub, shooting the breeze while imbibing several diminutive half-pints in the process. Getting smashed at four in the afternoon doesn’t seem like such a bad thing anymore, especially when you are having fun in the company of friends; I can more appreciate why the English do it so much!
Earlier in the day, we visited the Tate Modern. Its turbine room lived up to its prominent billing what with a giant spider, complete with bulbous egg sac, anchoring the retrospective exhibit. The permanent galleries, too, were a delight upon which to feast one’s eyes. Picasso, Warhol and Pollock ruled the chambers of the upper floors with the products of their lithe wrists; and I ended up becoming a huge fan of cubism, while developing a disdain for abstract art and its vacuous images, which, I feel, are devoid of both motivation and emotion.
My first trip yesterday morning was to Emirates Stadium, home of the Arsenal Gunners. It towers imperiously over the surrounding neighborhood; yet for all its majesty, the place sure was quiet! Business did pick up later, however, once the armory shop opened, and dozens of fans descended on it like bees to a hive. I, too, swooped in on a gift-buying mission, and wound up purchasing a book for Godfrey, a scarf for a student, and a jersey – on sale, of course – for good measure.
I’m sitting in the Westminster Abbey Museum now, resting my weary legs and burdened back. So far, I’ve been verily impressed with what I’ve seen, such a confluence of splendor and history before me that it would require days to absorb it all, when regretfully I can spare only a few hours. My favorite part of the abbey is the poets corner where no less a literary luminary than Samuel Johnson rests in peace – his bust confirms his homely presence, which was so vividly captured in his biography.
For lunch I had a steak and ale pie, served with mash, taken alongside a Guinness, extra cold – 2 degrees centigrade colder, the bartender explained. It went down well, like all the other delicious meals I’ve had in England; and no doubt by now I have grown accustomed to inebriation at half past two. Besides, Liverpool were playing inspired football against Blackburn; and my lunch was complete.
Having had my fill of football, I decided to skip my ticket scalping endeavor at Stamford Bridge and instead wandered over to the British Museum to inspect their extensive collections. Along the way, my eye caught a theater, its doors wide open and admitting customers. With much rapidity, I subsequently checked the show times, saw that a performance was set to begin, and at last rushed to the box office to purchase a discounted ticket – if you call a 40 pound ticket a deal, that is. That’s how I grabbed a seat to watch Hairspray in the West End.
The show was worth forty pounds. The music was addictive; and the stage design and effects were not so much kitschy as delightfully stimulating – the pulsating background lights were at once scintillating and penetrating. The actors as well were vivacious, oozing charisma while they danced and delivered lines dripping in humor. Hairspray is a quality production and most definitely recommended.
12.4.09
At breakfast I sat across from a man who asked me to which country Hong Kong had been returned – China or Japan. That was pretty funny. Then he started spitting on my food as he spoke, completely oblivious to my breakfast becoming the receptacle in which the fruit of his inner churl was being placed. I guess I understand the convention nowadays of covering one’s mouth whilst speaking and masticating at the same time!
We actually conversed on London life in general, and I praised London for its racial integration, the act of which is a prodigious leap of faith for any society, trying to be inclusive, accepting all sorts of people. It wasn’t as though the Brits were trying in vain to be all things to all men, using Spanish with the visitors from Spain, German with the Germans and, even, Hindi with the Indians, regardless of whether or not Hindi was their native language; not even considering the absurd idea of encouraging the international adoption of their language; thereby completely keeping English in English hands and allowing its proud polyglots to "practice" their languages. Indeed, the attempt of the Londoners to avail themselves of the rich mosaic of ethnic knowledge, and to seek a common understanding with a ubiquitous English accent is an exemplar, and the bedrock for any world city.
I celebrated Jesus’ resurrection at the St. Andrew’s Street Church in Cambridge. The parishioners of this Baptist church were warm and affable, and I met several of them, including one visiting (Halliday) linguistics scholar from Zhongshan university in Guangzhou, who in fact had visited my tiny City University of Hong Kong in 2003. The service itself was more traditional and the believers fewer in number than the "progressive" services at any of the charismatic, evangelical churches in HK; yet that’s what makes this part of the body of Christ unique; besides, the message was as brief as a powerpoint slide, and informative no less; the power word which spoke into my life being a question from John 21:22 – what is that to you?
Big trees; exquisite lawns; and old, pointy colleges; that’s Cambridge in a nutshell. Sitting here, sipping on a half-pint of Woodforde’s Wherry, I’ve had a leisurely, if not languorous, day so far; my sole duty consisting of walking around while absorbing the verdant environment as though a sponge, camera in tow.
I am back at the sublime beer, savoring a pint of Sharp’s DoomBar before my fish and chips arrive; the drinking age is 18, but anyone whose visage even hints of youthful brilliance is likely to get carded these days, the bartender told me. The youth drinking culture here is almost as twisted as the university drinking culture in America.
My stay in Cambridge, relaxing and desultory as it may be, is about to end after this late lunch. I an not sure if there is anything left to see, save for the American graveyard which rests an impossible two miles away. I have had a wonderful time in this town; and am thankful for the access into its living history – the residents here must demonstrate remarkable patience and tolerance what with so many tourists ambling on the streets, peering – and photographing – into every nook and cranny.
13.4.09
There are no rubbish bins, yet I’ve seen on the streets many mixed race couples in which the men tend to be white – the women also belonging to a light colored ethnicity, usually some sort of Asian; as well saw some black dudes and Indian dudes with white chicks.
People here hold doors, even at the entrance to the toilet. Sometimes it appears as though they are going out on a limb, just waiting for the one who will take the responsibility for the door from them, at which point I rush out to relieve them of such a fortuitous burden.
I visited the British Museum this morning. The two hours I spent there did neither myself nor the exhibits any justice because there really is too much to survey, enough captivating stuff to last an entire day, I think. The bottomless well of artifacts from antiquity, drawing from sources as diverse as Korea, and Mesopotamia, is a credit to the British empire, without whose looting most of this amazing booty would be unavailable for our purview; better, I think, for these priceless treasures to be open to all in the grandest supermarket of history than away from human eyes, and worst yet, in the hands of unscrupulous collectors or in the rubbish bin, possibly.
Irene and I took in the ballet Giselle at The Royal Opera House in the afternoon. The building is a plush marvel, and a testament to this city’s love for the arts. The ballet itself was satisfying, the first half being superior to the second, in which the nimble dancers demonstrated their phenomenal dexterity in, of all places, a graveyard covered in a cloak of smoke and darkness. I admit, their dance of the dead, in such a gloomy necropolis, did strike me as, strange.
Two amicable ladies from Kent convinced me to visit their hometown tomorrow, where, they told me, the authentic, "working" Leeds Castle and the mighty interesting home of Charles Darwin await.
I’m nursing a pint of Green King Ruddles and wondering about the profusion of British ales and lagers; the British have done a great deed for the world by creating an interminable line of low-alcohol session beers that can be enjoyed at breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner; and their disservice is this: besides this inexhaustible supply of cheap beer ensnaring my inner alcoholic, I feel myself putting on my freshman fifteen, almost ten years after the fact; I am going to have to run a bit harder back in Hong Kong if I want to burn all this malty fuel off.
Irene suggested I stop by the National Art Gallery since we were in the area; and it was an hour well spent. The gallery currently presents a special exhibit on Picasso, the non-ticketed section of which features several seductive renderings, including David spying on Bathsheba – repeated in clever variants – and parodies of other masters’ works. Furthermore, the main gallery houses two fabulous portraits by Joshua Reynolds, who happens to be favorite of mine, he in life being a close friend of Samuel Johnson – I passed by Boswells, where its namesake first met Johnson, on my way to the opera house.
14.4.09
I prayed last night, and went through my list, lifting everyone on it up to the Lord. That felt good; that God is alive now, and ever present in my life and in the lives of my brothers and sisters.
Doubtless, then, I have felt quite wistful, as though a specter in the land of the living, being in a place where religious fervor, it seems, is a thing of the past, a trifling for many, to be hidden away in the opaque corners of centuries-old cathedrals that are more expensive tourist destinations than liberating homes of worship these days. Indeed, I have yet to see anyone pray, outside of the Easter service which I attended in Cambridge – for such an ecstatic moment in verily a grand church, would you believe that it was only attended by at most three dozen spirited ones. The people of England, and Europe in general, have, it is my hope, only locked away the Word, relegating it to the quiet vault of their hearts. May it be taken out in the sudden pause before mealtimes and in the still crisp mornings and cool, silent nights. There is still hope for a revival in this place, for faith to rise like that splendid sun every morning. God would love to rescue them, to deliver them in this day, it is certain.
I wonder what Londoners think, if anything at all, about their police state which, like a vine in the shadows, has taken root in all corners of daily life, from the terrorist notifications in the underground, which implore Londoners to report all things suspicious, to the pair of dogs which eagerly stroll through Euston. What makes this all the more incredible is the fact that even the United States, the indomitable nemesis of the fledgling, rebel order, doesn’t dare bombard its citizens with such fear mongering these days, especially with Obama in office; maybe we’ve grown wise in these past few years to the dubious returns of surrendering civil liberties to the state, of having our bags checked everywhere – London Eye; Hairspray; and The Royal Opera House check bags in London while the museums do not; somehow, that doesn’t add up for me.
I’m in a majestic bookshop on New Street in Birmingham, and certainly to confirm my suspicions, there are just as many books on the death of Christianity in Britain as there are books which attempt to murder Christianity everywhere. I did find, however, a nice biography on John Wesley by Roy Hattersley and The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. I may pick up the former.
Lunch with Sally was pleasant and mirthful. We dined at a French restaurant nearby New Street – yes, Birmingham is a cultural capitol! Sally and I both tried their omelette, while her boyfriend had the fish, without chips. Conversation was light, the levity was there and so was our reminiscing about those fleeting moments during our first year in Hong Kong; it is amazing how friendships can resume so suddenly with a smile. On their recommendation, I am on my way to Warwick Castle – they also suggested that I visit Cadbury World, but they cannot take on additional visitors at the moment, the tourist office staff informed me, much to my disappointment!
Visiting Warwick Castle really made for a great day out. The castle, parts of which were established by William the Conquerer in 1068, is as much a kitschy tourist trap as a meticulous preservation of history, at times a sillier version of Ocean Park while at others a dignified dedication to a most glorious, inexorably English past. The castle caters to all visitors; and not surprisingly, that which delighted all audiences was a giant trebuchet siege engine, which for the five p.m. performance hurled a fireball high and far into the air – fantastic! Taliban beware!
15.4.09
I’m leaving on a jet plane this evening; don’t know when I’ll be back in England again. I’ll miss this quirky, yet endearing place; and that I shall miss Irene and Tom who so generously welcomed me into their home, fed me, and suffered my use of their toilet and shower goes without saying. I’m grateful for God’s many blessings on this trip.
On the itinerary today is a trip to John Wesley’s home, followed by a visit to the Imperial War Museum. Already this morning I picked up a tube of Oilatum, a week late perhaps, which Teri recommended I use to treat this obstinate, dermal weakness of mine – I’m happy to report that my skin has stopped crying.
John Wesley’s home is alive and well. Services are still held in the chapel everyday; and its crypt, so far from being a cellar for the dead, is a bright, spacious museum in which all things Wesley are on display – I never realized how much of an iconic figure he became in England; at the height of this idol frenzy, ironic in itself, he must have been as popular as the Beatles were at their apex. The house itself is a multi-story edifice with narrow, precipitous staircases and spacious rooms decorated in an 18th century fashion.
I found Samuel Johnson’s house within a maze of red brick hidden alongside Fleet Street. To be in the home of the man who wrote the English dictionary, and whose indefatigable love for obscure words became the inspiration for my own lexical obsession, this, by far, is the climax of my visit to England! The best certainly has been saved for last.
There are a multitude of portraits hanging around the house like ornaments on a tree. Every likeness has its own story, meticulously retold on the crib sheets in each room. Celebrities abound, including David Garrick and Sir Joshua Reynolds, who painted several of the finer images in the house. I have developed a particular affinity for Oliver Goldsmith, of whom Boswell writes, "His person was short, his countenance coarse and vulgar, his deportment that of a scholar awkwardly affecting the easy gentleman. It appears as though I, too, could use a more flattering description of myself!
I regretfully couldn’t stop to try the curry in England; I guess the CityU canteen’s take on the dish will have to do. I did, however, have the opportune task of flirting with the cute Cathay Pacific counter staff who checked me in. She was gorgeous in red, light powder on her cheeks, with real diamond earrings, she said; and her small, delicate face, commanded by a posh British accent rendered her positively irresistible, electrifying. Not only did she grant me an aisle seat but she had the gumption to return my fawning with zest; she must be a pro at this by now.
I saw her again as she was pulling double-duty, collecting tickets prior to boarding. She remembered my quest for curry; and in the fog of infatuation, where nary a man has been made, I fumbled my words like the sloppy kid who has had too much punch. I am just an amateur, alas, an "Oliver Goldsmith" with the ladies – I got no game – booyah!
Some final, consequential bits: because of the chavs, Burberry no longer sells those fashionable baseball caps; because of the IRA, rubbish bins are no longer a commodity on the streets of London, and as a result, the streets and the Underground of the city are a soiled mess; and because of other terrorists from distant, more arid lands, going through a Western airport has taken on the tedium of perfunctory procedure that doesn’t make me feel any safer from my invisible enemies.
At last, I saw so many Indians working at Heathrow that I could have easily mistaken the place for Mumbai. Their presence surprised me because their portion of the general population surely must be less than their portion of Heathrow staff, indicating some mysterious hiring bias. Regardless, they do a superb job with cursory airport checks, and in general are absurdly funny and witty when not tactless.
That’s all for England!
IMG_1987
Image by Wootang01
9.4.09
The flight arrived on time; and the twelve hours while on board passed quickly and without incident. To be sure, the quality of the Cathay Pacific service was exemplary once again.
Heathrow reminds me of Newark International. The décor comes straight out of the sterile 80′s and is less an eyesore than an insipid background to the rhythm of human activity, such hustle and bustle, at the fore. There certainly are faces from all races present, creating a rich mosaic of humanity which is refreshing if not completely revitalizing after swimming for so long in a sea of Chinese faces in Hong Kong.
Internet access is sealed in England, it seems. Nothing is free; everything is egregiously monetized from the wireless hotspots down to the desktop terminals. I guess Hong Kong has spoiled me with its abundant, free access to the information superhighway.
11.4.09
Despite staying in a room with five other backpackers, I have been sleeping well. The mattress and pillow are firm; my earplugs keep the noise out; and the sleeping quarters are as dark as a cave when the lights are out, and only as bright as, perhaps, a dreary rainy day when on. All in all, St. Paul’s is a excellent place to stay for the gregarious, adventurous, and penurious city explorer – couchsurfing may be a tenable alternative; I’ll test for next time.
Yesterday Connie and I gorged ourselves at the borough market where there were all sorts of delectable, savory victuals. There was definitely a European flavor to the food fair: simmering sausages were to be found everywhere; and much as the meat was plentiful, and genuine, so were the dairy delicacies, in the form of myriad rounds of cheese, stacked high behind checkered tabletops. Of course, we washed these tasty morsels down with copious amounts of alcohol that flowed from cups as though amber waterfalls. For the first time I tried mulled wine, which tasted like warm, rancid fruit punch – the ideal tonic for a drizzling London day, I suppose. We later killed the afternoon at the pub, shooting the breeze while imbibing several diminutive half-pints in the process. Getting smashed at four in the afternoon doesn’t seem like such a bad thing anymore, especially when you are having fun in the company of friends; I can more appreciate why the English do it so much!
Earlier in the day, we visited the Tate Modern. Its turbine room lived up to its prominent billing what with a giant spider, complete with bulbous egg sac, anchoring the retrospective exhibit. The permanent galleries, too, were a delight upon which to feast one’s eyes. Picasso, Warhol and Pollock ruled the chambers of the upper floors with the products of their lithe wrists; and I ended up becoming a huge fan of cubism, while developing a disdain for abstract art and its vacuous images, which, I feel, are devoid of both motivation and emotion.
My first trip yesterday morning was to Emirates Stadium, home of the Arsenal Gunners. It towers imperiously over the surrounding neighborhood; yet for all its majesty, the place sure was quiet! Business did pick up later, however, once the armory shop opened, and dozens of fans descended on it like bees to a hive. I, too, swooped in on a gift-buying mission, and wound up purchasing a book for Godfrey, a scarf for a student, and a jersey – on sale, of course – for good measure.
I’m sitting in the Westminster Abbey Museum now, resting my weary legs and burdened back. So far, I’ve been verily impressed with what I’ve seen, such a confluence of splendor and history before me that it would require days to absorb it all, when regretfully I can spare only a few hours. My favorite part of the abbey is the poets corner where no less a literary luminary than Samuel Johnson rests in peace – his bust confirms his homely presence, which was so vividly captured in his biography.
For lunch I had a steak and ale pie, served with mash, taken alongside a Guinness, extra cold – 2 degrees centigrade colder, the bartender explained. It went down well, like all the other delicious meals I’ve had in England; and no doubt by now I have grown accustomed to inebriation at half past two. Besides, Liverpool were playing inspired football against Blackburn; and my lunch was complete.
Having had my fill of football, I decided to skip my ticket scalping endeavor at Stamford Bridge and instead wandered over to the British Museum to inspect their extensive collections. Along the way, my eye caught a theater, its doors wide open and admitting customers. With much rapidity, I subsequently checked the show times, saw that a performance was set to begin, and at last rushed to the box office to purchase a discounted ticket – if you call a 40 pound ticket a deal, that is. That’s how I grabbed a seat to watch Hairspray in the West End.
The show was worth forty pounds. The music was addictive; and the stage design and effects were not so much kitschy as delightfully stimulating – the pulsating background lights were at once scintillating and penetrating. The actors as well were vivacious, oozing charisma while they danced and delivered lines dripping in humor. Hairspray is a quality production and most definitely recommended.
12.4.09
At breakfast I sat across from a man who asked me to which country Hong Kong had been returned – China or Japan. That was pretty funny. Then he started spitting on my food as he spoke, completely oblivious to my breakfast becoming the receptacle in which the fruit of his inner churl was being placed. I guess I understand the convention nowadays of covering one’s mouth whilst speaking and masticating at the same time!
We actually conversed on London life in general, and I praised London for its racial integration, the act of which is a prodigious leap of faith for any society, trying to be inclusive, accepting all sorts of people. It wasn’t as though the Brits were trying in vain to be all things to all men, using Spanish with the visitors from Spain, German with the Germans and, even, Hindi with the Indians, regardless of whether or not Hindi was their native language; not even considering the absurd idea of encouraging the international adoption of their language; thereby completely keeping English in English hands and allowing its proud polyglots to "practice" their languages. Indeed, the attempt of the Londoners to avail themselves of the rich mosaic of ethnic knowledge, and to seek a common understanding with a ubiquitous English accent is an exemplar, and the bedrock for any world city.
I celebrated Jesus’ resurrection at the St. Andrew’s Street Church in Cambridge. The parishioners of this Baptist church were warm and affable, and I met several of them, including one visiting (Halliday) linguistics scholar from Zhongshan university in Guangzhou, who in fact had visited my tiny City University of Hong Kong in 2003. The service itself was more traditional and the believers fewer in number than the "progressive" services at any of the charismatic, evangelical churches in HK; yet that’s what makes this part of the body of Christ unique; besides, the message was as brief as a powerpoint slide, and informative no less; the power word which spoke into my life being a question from John 21:22 – what is that to you?
Big trees; exquisite lawns; and old, pointy colleges; that’s Cambridge in a nutshell. Sitting here, sipping on a half-pint of Woodforde’s Wherry, I’ve had a leisurely, if not languorous, day so far; my sole duty consisting of walking around while absorbing the verdant environment as though a sponge, camera in tow.
I am back at the sublime beer, savoring a pint of Sharp’s DoomBar before my fish and chips arrive; the drinking age is 18, but anyone whose visage even hints of youthful brilliance is likely to get carded these days, the bartender told me. The youth drinking culture here is almost as twisted as the university drinking culture in America.
My stay in Cambridge, relaxing and desultory as it may be, is about to end after this late lunch. I an not sure if there is anything left to see, save for the American graveyard which rests an impossible two miles away. I have had a wonderful time in this town; and am thankful for the access into its living history – the residents here must demonstrate remarkable patience and tolerance what with so many tourists ambling on the streets, peering – and photographing – into every nook and cranny.
13.4.09
There are no rubbish bins, yet I’ve seen on the streets many mixed race couples in which the men tend to be white – the women also belonging to a light colored ethnicity, usually some sort of Asian; as well saw some black dudes and Indian dudes with white chicks.
People here hold doors, even at the entrance to the toilet. Sometimes it appears as though they are going out on a limb, just waiting for the one who will take the responsibility for the door from them, at which point I rush out to relieve them of such a fortuitous burden.
I visited the British Museum this morning. The two hours I spent there did neither myself nor the exhibits any justice because there really is too much to survey, enough captivating stuff to last an entire day, I think. The bottomless well of artifacts from antiquity, drawing from sources as diverse as Korea, and Mesopotamia, is a credit to the British empire, without whose looting most of this amazing booty would be unavailable for our purview; better, I think, for these priceless treasures to be open to all in the grandest supermarket of history than away from human eyes, and worst yet, in the hands of unscrupulous collectors or in the rubbish bin, possibly.
Irene and I took in the ballet Giselle at The Royal Opera House in the afternoon. The building is a plush marvel, and a testament to this city’s love for the arts. The ballet itself was satisfying, the first half being superior to the second, in which the nimble dancers demonstrated their phenomenal dexterity in, of all places, a graveyard covered in a cloak of smoke and darkness. I admit, their dance of the dead, in such a gloomy necropolis, did strike me as, strange.
Two amicable ladies from Kent convinced me to visit their hometown tomorrow, where, they told me, the authentic, "working" Leeds Castle and the mighty interesting home of Charles Darwin await.
I’m nursing a pint of Green King Ruddles and wondering about the profusion of British ales and lagers; the British have done a great deed for the world by creating an interminable line of low-alcohol session beers that can be enjoyed at breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner; and their disservice is this: besides this inexhaustible supply of cheap beer ensnaring my inner alcoholic, I feel myself putting on my freshman fifteen, almost ten years after the fact; I am going to have to run a bit harder back in Hong Kong if I want to burn all this malty fuel off.
Irene suggested I stop by the National Art Gallery since we were in the area; and it was an hour well spent. The gallery currently presents a special exhibit on Picasso, the non-ticketed section of which features several seductive renderings, including David spying on Bathsheba – repeated in clever variants – and parodies of other masters’ works. Furthermore, the main gallery houses two fabulous portraits by Joshua Reynolds, who happens to be favorite of mine, he in life being a close friend of Samuel Johnson – I passed by Boswells, where its namesake first met Johnson, on my way to the opera house.
14.4.09
I prayed last night, and went through my list, lifting everyone on it up to the Lord. That felt good; that God is alive now, and ever present in my life and in the lives of my brothers and sisters.
Doubtless, then, I have felt quite wistful, as though a specter in the land of the living, being in a place where religious fervor, it seems, is a thing of the past, a trifling for many, to be hidden away in the opaque corners of centuries-old cathedrals that are more expensive tourist destinations than liberating homes of worship these days. Indeed, I have yet to see anyone pray, outside of the Easter service which I attended in Cambridge – for such an ecstatic moment in verily a grand church, would you believe that it was only attended by at most three dozen spirited ones. The people of England, and Europe in general, have, it is my hope, only locked away the Word, relegating it to the quiet vault of their hearts. May it be taken out in the sudden pause before mealtimes and in the still crisp mornings and cool, silent nights. There is still hope for a revival in this place, for faith to rise like that splendid sun every morning. God would love to rescue them, to deliver them in this day, it is certain.
I wonder what Londoners think, if anything at all, about their police state which, like a vine in the shadows, has taken root in all corners of daily life, from the terrorist notifications in the underground, which implore Londoners to report all things suspicious, to the pair of dogs which eagerly stroll through Euston. What makes this all the more incredible is the fact that even the United States, the indomitable nemesis of the fledgling, rebel order, doesn’t dare bombard its citizens with such fear mongering these days, especially with Obama in office; maybe we’ve grown wise in these past few years to the dubious returns of surrendering civil liberties to the state, of having our bags checked everywhere – London Eye; Hairspray; and The Royal Opera House check bags in London while the museums do not; somehow, that doesn’t add up for me.
I’m in a majestic bookshop on New Street in Birmingham, and certainly to confirm my suspicions, there are just as many books on the death of Christianity in Britain as there are books which attempt to murder Christianity everywhere. I did find, however, a nice biography on John Wesley by Roy Hattersley and The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. I may pick up the former.
Lunch with Sally was pleasant and mirthful. We dined at a French restaurant nearby New Street – yes, Birmingham is a cultural capitol! Sally and I both tried their omelette, while her boyfriend had the fish, without chips. Conversation was light, the levity was there and so was our reminiscing about those fleeting moments during our first year in Hong Kong; it is amazing how friendships can resume so suddenly with a smile. On their recommendation, I am on my way to Warwick Castle – they also suggested that I visit Cadbury World, but they cannot take on additional visitors at the moment, the tourist office staff informed me, much to my disappointment!
Visiting Warwick Castle really made for a great day out. The castle, parts of which were established by William the Conquerer in 1068, is as much a kitschy tourist trap as a meticulous preservation of history, at times a sillier version of Ocean Park while at others a dignified dedication to a most glorious, inexorably English past. The castle caters to all visitors; and not surprisingly, that which delighted all audiences was a giant trebuchet siege engine, which for the five p.m. performance hurled a fireball high and far into the air – fantastic! Taliban beware!
15.4.09
I’m leaving on a jet plane this evening; don’t know when I’ll be back in England again. I’ll miss this quirky, yet endearing place; and that I shall miss Irene and Tom who so generously welcomed me into their home, fed me, and suffered my use of their toilet and shower goes without saying. I’m grateful for God’s many blessings on this trip.
On the itinerary today is a trip to John Wesley’s home, followed by a visit to the Imperial War Museum. Already this morning I picked up a tube of Oilatum, a week late perhaps, which Teri recommended I use to treat this obstinate, dermal weakness of mine – I’m happy to report that my skin has stopped crying.
John Wesley’s home is alive and well. Services are still held in the chapel everyday; and its crypt, so far from being a cellar for the dead, is a bright, spacious museum in which all things Wesley are on display – I never realized how much of an iconic figure he became in England; at the height of this idol frenzy, ironic in itself, he must have been as popular as the Beatles were at their apex. The house itself is a multi-story edifice with narrow, precipitous staircases and spacious rooms decorated in an 18th century fashion.
I found Samuel Johnson’s house within a maze of red brick hidden alongside Fleet Street. To be in the home of the man who wrote the English dictionary, and whose indefatigable love for obscure words became the inspiration for my own lexical obsession, this, by far, is the climax of my visit to England! The best certainly has been saved for last.
There are a multitude of portraits hanging around the house like ornaments on a tree. Every likeness has its own story, meticulously retold on the crib sheets in each room. Celebrities abound, including David Garrick and Sir Joshua Reynolds, who painted several of the finer images in the house. I have developed a particular affinity for Oliver Goldsmith, of whom Boswell writes, "His person was short, his countenance coarse and vulgar, his deportment that of a scholar awkwardly affecting the easy gentleman. It appears as though I, too, could use a more flattering description of myself!
I regretfully couldn’t stop to try the curry in England; I guess the CityU canteen’s take on the dish will have to do. I did, however, have the opportune task of flirting with the cute Cathay Pacific counter staff who checked me in. She was gorgeous in red, light powder on her cheeks, with real diamond earrings, she said; and her small, delicate face, commanded by a posh British accent rendered her positively irresistible, electrifying. Not only did she grant me an aisle seat but she had the gumption to return my fawning with zest; she must be a pro at this by now.
I saw her again as she was pulling double-duty, collecting tickets prior to boarding. She remembered my quest for curry; and in the fog of infatuation, where nary a man has been made, I fumbled my words like the sloppy kid who has had too much punch. I am just an amateur, alas, an "Oliver Goldsmith" with the ladies – I got no game – booyah!
Some final, consequential bits: because of the chavs, Burberry no longer sells those fashionable baseball caps; because of the IRA, rubbish bins are no longer a commodity on the streets of London, and as a result, the streets and the Underground of the city are a soiled mess; and because of other terrorists from distant, more arid lands, going through a Western airport has taken on the tedium of perfunctory procedure that doesn’t make me feel any safer from my invisible enemies.
At last, I saw so many Indians working at Heathrow that I could have easily mistaken the place for Mumbai. Their presence surprised me because their portion of the general population surely must be less than their portion of Heathrow staff, indicating some mysterious hiring bias. Regardless, they do a superb job with cursory airport checks, and in general are absurdly funny and witty when not tactless.
That’s all for England!
IMG_1973
Image by Wootang01
9.4.09
The flight arrived on time; and the twelve hours while on board passed quickly and without incident. To be sure, the quality of the Cathay Pacific service was exemplary once again.
Heathrow reminds me of Newark International. The décor comes straight out of the sterile 80′s and is less an eyesore than an insipid background to the rhythm of human activity, such hustle and bustle, at the fore. There certainly are faces from all races present, creating a rich mosaic of humanity which is refreshing if not completely revitalizing after swimming for so long in a sea of Chinese faces in Hong Kong.
Internet access is sealed in England, it seems. Nothing is free; everything is egregiously monetized from the wireless hotspots down to the desktop terminals. I guess Hong Kong has spoiled me with its abundant, free access to the information superhighway.
11.4.09
Despite staying in a room with five other backpackers, I have been sleeping well. The mattress and pillow are firm; my earplugs keep the noise out; and the sleeping quarters are as dark as a cave when the lights are out, and only as bright as, perhaps, a dreary rainy day when on. All in all, St. Paul’s is a excellent place to stay for the gregarious, adventurous, and penurious city explorer – couchsurfing may be a tenable alternative; I’ll test for next time.
Yesterday Connie and I gorged ourselves at the borough market where there were all sorts of delectable, savory victuals. There was definitely a European flavor to the food fair: simmering sausages were to be found everywhere; and much as the meat was plentiful, and genuine, so were the dairy delicacies, in the form of myriad rounds of cheese, stacked high behind checkered tabletops. Of course, we washed these tasty morsels down with copious amounts of alcohol that flowed from cups as though amber waterfalls. For the first time I tried mulled wine, which tasted like warm, rancid fruit punch – the ideal tonic for a drizzling London day, I suppose. We later killed the afternoon at the pub, shooting the breeze while imbibing several diminutive half-pints in the process. Getting smashed at four in the afternoon doesn’t seem like such a bad thing anymore, especially when you are having fun in the company of friends; I can more appreciate why the English do it so much!
Earlier in the day, we visited the Tate Modern. Its turbine room lived up to its prominent billing what with a giant spider, complete with bulbous egg sac, anchoring the retrospective exhibit. The permanent galleries, too, were a delight upon which to feast one’s eyes. Picasso, Warhol and Pollock ruled the chambers of the upper floors with the products of their lithe wrists; and I ended up becoming a huge fan of cubism, while developing a disdain for abstract art and its vacuous images, which, I feel, are devoid of both motivation and emotion.
My first trip yesterday morning was to Emirates Stadium, home of the Arsenal Gunners. It towers imperiously over the surrounding neighborhood; yet for all its majesty, the place sure was quiet! Business did pick up later, however, once the armory shop opened, and dozens of fans descended on it like bees to a hive. I, too, swooped in on a gift-buying mission, and wound up purchasing a book for Godfrey, a scarf for a student, and a jersey – on sale, of course – for good measure.
I’m sitting in the Westminster Abbey Museum now, resting my weary legs and burdened back. So far, I’ve been verily impressed with what I’ve seen, such a confluence of splendor and history before me that it would require days to absorb it all, when regretfully I can spare only a few hours. My favorite part of the abbey is the poets corner where no less a literary luminary than Samuel Johnson rests in peace – his bust confirms his homely presence, which was so vividly captured in his biography.
For lunch I had a steak and ale pie, served with mash, taken alongside a Guinness, extra cold – 2 degrees centigrade colder, the bartender explained. It went down well, like all the other delicious meals I’ve had in England; and no doubt by now I have grown accustomed to inebriation at half past two. Besides, Liverpool were playing inspired football against Blackburn; and my lunch was complete.
Having had my fill of football, I decided to skip my ticket scalping endeavor at Stamford Bridge and instead wandered over to the British Museum to inspect their extensive collections. Along the way, my eye caught a theater, its doors wide open and admitting customers. With much rapidity, I subsequently checked the show times, saw that a performance was set to begin, and at last rushed to the box office to purchase a discounted ticket – if you call a 40 pound ticket a deal, that is. That’s how I grabbed a seat to watch Hairspray in the West End.
The show was worth forty pounds. The music was addictive; and the stage design and effects were not so much kitschy as delightfully stimulating – the pulsating background lights were at once scintillating and penetrating. The actors as well were vivacious, oozing charisma while they danced and delivered lines dripping in humor. Hairspray is a quality production and most definitely recommended.
12.4.09
At breakfast I sat across from a man who asked me to which country Hong Kong had been returned – China or Japan. That was pretty funny. Then he started spitting on my food as he spoke, completely oblivious to my breakfast becoming the receptacle in which the fruit of his inner churl was being placed. I guess I understand the convention nowadays of covering one’s mouth whilst speaking and masticating at the same time!
We actually conversed on London life in general, and I praised London for its racial integration, the act of which is a prodigious leap of faith for any society, trying to be inclusive, accepting all sorts of people. It wasn’t as though the Brits were trying in vain to be all things to all men, using Spanish with the visitors from Spain, German with the Germans and, even, Hindi with the Indians, regardless of whether or not Hindi was their native language; not even considering the absurd idea of encouraging the international adoption of their language; thereby completely keeping English in English hands and allowing its proud polyglots to "practice" their languages. Indeed, the attempt of the Londoners to avail themselves of the rich mosaic of ethnic knowledge, and to seek a common understanding with a ubiquitous English accent is an exemplar, and the bedrock for any world city.
I celebrated Jesus’ resurrection at the St. Andrew’s Street Church in Cambridge. The parishioners of this Baptist church were warm and affable, and I met several of them, including one visiting (Halliday) linguistics scholar from Zhongshan university in Guangzhou, who in fact had visited my tiny City University of Hong Kong in 2003. The service itself was more traditional and the believers fewer in number than the "progressive" services at any of the charismatic, evangelical churches in HK; yet that’s what makes this part of the body of Christ unique; besides, the message was as brief as a powerpoint slide, and informative no less; the power word which spoke into my life being a question from John 21:22 – what is that to you?
Big trees; exquisite lawns; and old, pointy colleges; that’s Cambridge in a nutshell. Sitting here, sipping on a half-pint of Woodforde’s Wherry, I’ve had a leisurely, if not languorous, day so far; my sole duty consisting of walking around while absorbing the verdant environment as though a sponge, camera in tow.
I am back at the sublime beer, savoring a pint of Sharp’s DoomBar before my fish and chips arrive; the drinking age is 18, but anyone whose visage even hints of youthful brilliance is likely to get carded these days, the bartender told me. The youth drinking culture here is almost as twisted as the university drinking culture in America.
My stay in Cambridge, relaxing and desultory as it may be, is about to end after this late lunch. I an not sure if there is anything left to see, save for the American graveyard which rests an impossible two miles away. I have had a wonderful time in this town; and am thankful for the access into its living history – the residents here must demonstrate remarkable patience and tolerance what with so many tourists ambling on the streets, peering – and photographing – into every nook and cranny.
13.4.09
There are no rubbish bins, yet I’ve seen on the streets many mixed race couples in which the men tend to be white – the women also belonging to a light colored ethnicity, usually some sort of Asian; as well saw some black dudes and Indian dudes with white chicks.
People here hold doors, even at the entrance to the toilet. Sometimes it appears as though they are going out on a limb, just waiting for the one who will take the responsibility for the door from them, at which point I rush out to relieve them of such a fortuitous burden.
I visited the British Museum this morning. The two hours I spent there did neither myself nor the exhibits any justice because there really is too much to survey, enough captivating stuff to last an entire day, I think. The bottomless well of artifacts from antiquity, drawing from sources as diverse as Korea, and Mesopotamia, is a credit to the British empire, without whose looting most of this amazing booty would be unavailable for our purview; better, I think, for these priceless treasures to be open to all in the grandest supermarket of history than away from human eyes, and worst yet, in the hands of unscrupulous collectors or in the rubbish bin, possibly.
Irene and I took in the ballet Giselle at The Royal Opera House in the afternoon. The building is a plush marvel, and a testament to this city’s love for the arts. The ballet itself was satisfying, the first half being superior to the second, in which the nimble dancers demonstrated their phenomenal dexterity in, of all places, a graveyard covered in a cloak of smoke and darkness. I admit, their dance of the dead, in such a gloomy necropolis, did strike me as, strange.
Two amicable ladies from Kent convinced me to visit their hometown tomorrow, where, they told me, the authentic, "working" Leeds Castle and the mighty interesting home of Charles Darwin await.
I’m nursing a pint of Green King Ruddles and wondering about the profusion of British ales and lagers; the British have done a great deed for the world by creating an interminable line of low-alcohol session beers that can be enjoyed at breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner; and their disservice is this: besides this inexhaustible supply of cheap beer ensnaring my inner alcoholic, I feel myself putting on my freshman fifteen, almost ten years after the fact; I am going to have to run a bit harder back in Hong Kong if I want to burn all this malty fuel off.
Irene suggested I stop by the National Art Gallery since we were in the area; and it was an hour well spent. The gallery currently presents a special exhibit on Picasso, the non-ticketed section of which features several seductive renderings, including David spying on Bathsheba – repeated in clever variants – and parodies of other masters’ works. Furthermore, the main gallery houses two fabulous portraits by Joshua Reynolds, who happens to be favorite of mine, he in life being a close friend of Samuel Johnson – I passed by Boswells, where its namesake first met Johnson, on my way to the opera house.
14.4.09
I prayed last night, and went through my list, lifting everyone on it up to the Lord. That felt good; that God is alive now, and ever present in my life and in the lives of my brothers and sisters.
Doubtless, then, I have felt quite wistful, as though a specter in the land of the living, being in a place where religious fervor, it seems, is a thing of the past, a trifling for many, to be hidden away in the opaque corners of centuries-old cathedrals that are more expensive tourist destinations than liberating homes of worship these days. Indeed, I have yet to see anyone pray, outside of the Easter service which I attended in Cambridge – for such an ecstatic moment in verily a grand church, would you believe that it was only attended by at most three dozen spirited ones. The people of England, and Europe in general, have, it is my hope, only locked away the Word, relegating it to the quiet vault of their hearts. May it be taken out in the sudden pause before mealtimes and in the still crisp mornings and cool, silent nights. There is still hope for a revival in this place, for faith to rise like that splendid sun every morning. God would love to rescue them, to deliver them in this day, it is certain.
I wonder what Londoners think, if anything at all, about their police state which, like a vine in the shadows, has taken root in all corners of daily life, from the terrorist notifications in the underground, which implore Londoners to report all things suspicious, to the pair of dogs which eagerly stroll through Euston. What makes this all the more incredible is the fact that even the United States, the indomitable nemesis of the fledgling, rebel order, doesn’t dare bombard its citizens with such fear mongering these days, especially with Obama in office; maybe we’ve grown wise in these past few years to the dubious returns of surrendering civil liberties to the state, of having our bags checked everywhere – London Eye; Hairspray; and The Royal Opera House check bags in London while the museums do not; somehow, that doesn’t add up for me.
I’m in a majestic bookshop on New Street in Birmingham, and certainly to confirm my suspicions, there are just as many books on the death of Christianity in Britain as there are books which attempt to murder Christianity everywhere. I did find, however, a nice biography on John Wesley by Roy Hattersley and The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. I may pick up the former.
Lunch with Sally was pleasant and mirthful. We dined at a French restaurant nearby New Street – yes, Birmingham is a cultural capitol! Sally and I both tried their omelette, while her boyfriend had the fish, without chips. Conversation was light, the levity was there and so was our reminiscing about those fleeting moments during our first year in Hong Kong; it is amazing how friendships can resume so suddenly with a smile. On their recommendation, I am on my way to Warwick Castle – they also suggested that I visit Cadbury World, but they cannot take on additional visitors at the moment, the tourist office staff informed me, much to my disappointment!
Visiting Warwick Castle really made for a great day out. The castle, parts of which were established by William the Conquerer in 1068, is as much a kitschy tourist trap as a meticulous preservation of history, at times a sillier version of Ocean Park while at others a dignified dedication to a most glorious, inexorably English past. The castle caters to all visitors; and not surprisingly, that which delighted all audiences was a giant trebuchet siege engine, which for the five p.m. performance hurled a fireball high and far into the air – fantastic! Taliban beware!
15.4.09
I’m leaving on a jet plane this evening; don’t know when I’ll be back in England again. I’ll miss this quirky, yet endearing place; and that I shall miss Irene and Tom who so generously welcomed me into their home, fed me, and suffered my use of their toilet and shower goes without saying. I’m grateful for God’s many blessings on this trip.
On the itinerary today is a trip to John Wesley’s home, followed by a visit to the Imperial War Museum. Already this morning I picked up a tube of Oilatum, a week late perhaps, which Teri recommended I use to treat this obstinate, dermal weakness of mine – I’m happy to report that my skin has stopped crying.
John Wesley’s home is alive and well. Services are still held in the chapel everyday; and its crypt, so far from being a cellar for the dead, is a bright, spacious museum in which all things Wesley are on display – I never realized how much of an iconic figure he became in England; at the height of this idol frenzy, ironic in itself, he must have been as popular as the Beatles were at their apex. The house itself is a multi-story edifice with narrow, precipitous staircases and spacious rooms decorated in an 18th century fashion.
I found Samuel Johnson’s house within a maze of red brick hidden alongside Fleet Street. To be in the home of the man who wrote the English dictionary, and whose indefatigable love for obscure words became the inspiration for my own lexical obsession, this, by far, is the climax of my visit to England! The best certainly has been saved for last.
There are a multitude of portraits hanging around the house like ornaments on a tree. Every likeness has its own story, meticulously retold on the crib sheets in each room. Celebrities abound, including David Garrick and Sir Joshua Reynolds, who painted several of the finer images in the house. I have developed a particular affinity for Oliver Goldsmith, of whom Boswell writes, "His person was short, his countenance coarse and vulgar, his deportment that of a scholar awkwardly affecting the easy gentleman. It appears as though I, too, could use a more flattering description of myself!
I regretfully couldn’t stop to try the curry in England; I guess the CityU canteen’s take on the dish will have to do. I did, however, have the opportune task of flirting with the cute Cathay Pacific counter staff who checked me in. She was gorgeous in red, light powder on her cheeks, with real diamond earrings, she said; and her small, delicate face, commanded by a posh British accent rendered her positively irresistible, electrifying. Not only did she grant me an aisle seat but she had the gumption to return my fawning with zest; she must be a pro at this by now.
I saw her again as she was pulling double-duty, collecting tickets prior to boarding. She remembered my quest for curry; and in the fog of infatuation, where nary a man has been made, I fumbled my words like the sloppy kid who has had too much punch. I am just an amateur, alas, an "Oliver Goldsmith" with the ladies – I got no game – booyah!
Some final, consequential bits: because of the chavs, Burberry no longer sells those fashionable baseball caps; because of the IRA, rubbish bins are no longer a commodity on the streets of London, and as a result, the streets and the Underground of the city are a soiled mess; and because of other terrorists from distant, more arid lands, going through a Western airport has taken on the tedium of perfunctory procedure that doesn’t make me feel any safer from my invisible enemies.
At last, I saw so many Indians working at Heathrow that I could have easily mistaken the place for Mumbai. Their presence surprised me because their portion of the general population surely must be less than their portion of Heathrow staff, indicating some mysterious hiring bias. Regardless, they do a superb job with cursory airport checks, and in general are absurdly funny and witty when not tactless.
That’s all for England!
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Image taken on 2009-04-14 01:50:18 by Wootang01.
My plan is wearing a small black dress with stockings or black. I dressed in a black dress as? I’m going to put silver peep toe heels stockings black. ? Is this a way no-no? Along with the money I want to wear diamond earrings and a bracelet and a silver clutch met? Lica. All opinions are greatly appreciated.
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A few nice Black Diamond Earrings images I found:
2 fashionpose (Miamai)
Image by Edith Ogleby
dame-edith.blogspot.com/2010/12/pose-revelation-props-and…
Dress: Mimikri – Nanette wine
Hair: Bliss – Queen, Vanille
Glasses: Wrigglesworth – Cat Eye Glasses
Gloves: Icing – Camera Girl Opera Gloves
Rings: Paper Couture – Diamonds and Pearl Ring, Leather Blossom Ring
Earrings: Paper Couture – Diamond Pearl Menagerie Earrings
Shoes: Paper Couture – Platform Pump, black
Stockings: The Rural Route – Varicose Veins with Support Pantyhose
Poses: Miamai – I was only dreaming, from the Props and Poses Fair
Photo 113/365 – The Flip Side
Image by Aerokev
Photo 113/365 – 23 April 2010.
Honestly I don’t even know where the inspiration for this photo came from. I had a second entry to do for Sub-12 brief "Wish you were here". I could have pulled out another holiday photo but I chose not to.
So this morning whilst rummaging though my desk drawers for some stamps, I came across the infamous love cuffs courtesy of freocookster and lonefemaletog. It has been a while since these cuffs have made an appearance in my Project 365 and I was wondering what I could use them in next.
A warped imagination kicked in and I thought what the hell, I can only give it a go. It is a very out there reinterpretation of "wish you were here". Yes it’s adult themed, but only in the imagination sense rather than real portrayal. Thanks to my wife for agreeing to model her hand and arm in it.
Image taken on 2009-04-13 19:04:11 by Wootang01.
It is a white dress with a design or black with silver glitter detail. I “ch? Taignier” hair (which is what it says on the bottle, but my natural color is chestnut or dark also? N …?)? Qu? is a cross between corrugated? It is, straight, very strange that the bonds, or, as? often collected. My skin is tannish, as I am right? ? the beach and bronze, “but not so great. You know? This is a bar (bat?) Mitzvah, and it is a c? A ceremony? F? You. I? pr bit? s five hours to walk? stop the night? post and two for the c? r? ceremony. For c? R? Ceremony, I am the diamond (well, are taient five d? Dollars and I am s? R that is not real diamond) earrings with a rub? (Again, probably false, but it seems certain) in? L and a matching necklace. On the left, I re? U a thick red collar and red earrings. I do not s? about shoes, so suggestions that be? a aussi.J good “wearing black eyeliner and plum and mascara.Merci fair and everything? A.
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Resembling pure elegance, these glamorous womens diamond earrings are crafted in 18K White Gold. Both earrings arepave set with 506 small round cut diamonds which total to 5.92 carats and 550 small round cut white diamonds which total to 3.33 carats. The frame measures to 2 Inches in length and the lower section measures to 3/4 Inches in width. Weighing approximately 16.5 grams, these exquisite diamond earrings are ideal for a special night out.
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? 01.02 in search of diamond earrings. But the white diamonds are a small budget. Never fear. These 1/2ct Black Diamond Earrings 10k white gold are the perfect alternative? prices with a character? own back. Order? Today!. . . M? s information? n>>
Image taken on 2008-01-11 00:58:40 by Izabella.Dreamscape.
1/2ct Black Diamond Stud Earrings in 10k White Gold
Check out these Black Diamond Earrings images:
6 rummaging around (Miamai)
Image by Edith Ogleby
dame-edith.blogspot.com/2010/12/pose-revelation-props-and…
Dress: Mimikri – Nanette wine
Hair: Bliss – Queen, Vanille
Glasses: Wrigglesworth – Cat Eye Glasses
Gloves: Icing – Camera Girl Opera Gloves
Rings: Paper Couture – Diamonds and Pearl Ring, Leather Blossom Ring
Earrings: Paper Couture – Diamond Pearl Menagerie Earrings
Shoes: Paper Couture – Platform Pump, black
Stockings: The Rural Route – Varicose Veins with Support Pantyhose
Poses: Miamai – I was only dreaming, from the Props and Poses Fair
These versatile huggie hoop earrings are made from 925 sterling silver and detailed with shimmering black and white diamonds, arranged in three rows. The small, chunky hoops hold a combined total of .41 carat of diamonds. A beautiful accessory for day or night, they are finished with hidden snap posts for a seamless look.
Find More Black Diamond Earrings Products
Image taken on 2009-07-30 21:00:52 by Melissa Gray.
Am I? RESEARCH pending? n are a beautiful design in diamonds or cihttp: / / www. gembeagles. com clip% / 20Art/GEM1. jpgJe pr? f? noirpersonne again? env? em a v? LINKS with them for sale gets 10 ptsgr? this
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Amazon . Description Com? No Product Sterling Silver Diamond
05.01 cttw black and white spider with earrings? E. These adorable earrings chandelier to? E are always agr? Cables? wear! Diamond diamond bodies and legs, black, white, have a great contrast, the caregiver? is d? mark of the crowd. Mant? Databases and on the back of the friction n. . . . M? s information? n>>
Image taken on 2010-11-29 23:52:20 by Caer.
Silver Black Diamond Earrings
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www. gadgettown. com Black Pen-shaped diamond earrings is a bit flirtatious female fetus, and plenty? n of fun? n. The slope MATERIALS can not? feature? s for TOMORROW? improve their appearance or durability?. pending feathers cute is so appealing. This is the greatest gift of Audition? N for the lovely woman.
Amazon . Description Com? No Product Facebook luxury black diamond front and center these gold hoop earrings 14-carat fine. A total of 66 round diamonds (1 cttw) l? Line the edges and corners? the int? rear of the Interior? are the 26mm rings. The “? The int? Laughing” design or da? These beauties? S Black visibility? Optimal. These earrings are one of those? Part? Unique to the traditional white diamond rings, and m? S sophisticated? and vers? useful? your collection n of jewelry or fine. Choose from white or yellow gold. . . . M? s information? n>>
Image taken on 2008-11-04 21:27:11 by ArtJewel Designs.
14k White Gold Black Diamond Hoop Earrings
Description? Product No Facebook These earrings fantasy? A J-ring 1/4ct sterling silver black diamond is a flight? this award. Some songs they love to use. It is this kind of earrings! Order? Now!. . . M? s information? n>>
Image taken on 2010-12-31 20:19:29 by Kghia Gherardi.
Black Diamond J-Hoop Earrings set in Sterling Silver 1/4ct tw
Image taken on 2010-12-02 02:26:22 by Edith Ogleby.
? Having trouble? ? D cider – I wear a black dress: 1) Bold alone2 pending) and pendentif3 diamond studs) coat Seulles Bold neck is the neck? and is very port? ? marriage. It is a style cl? Physical. Advice? ? And what? type of jewelry to?
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Description? Product No Facebook A? Adds a subtle touch of bright light? your look with these beautiful earrings. A nice contrast to the r? Set in sterling silver, diamond black, 52 dark and dramatic? Tico by a total of 2.1 carats reinforcing? Black Rhodium art? Size. S? Curis? with the back of a butterfly. . . . M? s information? n>>
Image taken on 2010-12-20 23:35:42 by Edith Ogleby.
1/2 Carat Black Diamond Earrings w/ Sterling Silver and Black Rhodium Detailing
These are Princess Cut Black Diamond Stud Earrings. They are made in Solid .925 Sterling Silver and weigh 1/2 Gram (Total Weight). The 1/2 ctw (Total Weight) Diamonds are Black (Color Enhanced - Irradiation) Color. Very well made, the earring is hallmarked .925 Silver. The dimensions of each earring is 3.5mm. These earrings have push-backs. The setting is 4-Prong. With this purchase you will get two studs that are 1/4 ct each for a total of 1/2 CT. These earrings are a perfect gift for any occas
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These earrings are design and manufactured exclusively mensdiamond track? S 10k white gold and silver? black rhodium. The center of both lines are implemented with round black diamonds totaling 1. 51 carats. The sizes of frames? 1 / 2 inches in length and width and s? SAFETY? of locks? rear screws? return. It weighs about 7. 7 grams, these diamond earrings are id? Ales for all v? Leisure wear and Journ? E sp? Cial.
Description ? No Product Facebook 1. 00ctw black diamond earrings. . . M? s information? n>>
Image taken on 2010-12-02 02:26:22 by Edith Ogleby.
Unisex 1.00ct Black Diamond Earrings
Image taken on 2010-06-17 08:22:08 by Portia Capelo.
No tires. Maybe? Be just diamond studs, black or black s? Valid. People are shopping and all that happened? Re times and no pod? To find. ? Can anyone give me a link to the plot this time? Thanks!
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Description ? No Product A? add drama and sophistication Facebook? n? your look with this unique 08.03 ct. t. w. s? outstanding as black? diamond solitaire. Take you look at the modern twist. In situ? 14k white gold. . . . M? s information? n>>
Image taken on 2009-04-14 20:50:01 by Wootang01.
3/8 ct.t.w. Single Black Diamond Solitaire Earring in 14k White Gold
A Balance between Luxury and Elegance: Black Onyx Diamond Earrings
Article by SAPerillo
Diamonds were once used about 3000 ago by the ancient Hindus, who wore the rough cut stones for protection against negative forces. Throughout history, jewelers have been perfecting the necessary techniques to polish and cut diamonds and put in a black onyx earrings. Well cut and well-polished diamonds are one of the most valuable and expensive gemstones in the world. It’s hard to imagine that it came from a simple piece of coal sitting at the bottom of the earth.Meanwhile, black onyx gives an elegant, classy look. A jeweler’s favorite, black onyx can be set with other precious gemstones. It can give great contrast to any metal or stone, but particularly so for diamonds. The black beauty of the stone and the luster of diamonds sure makes for jewelry that is eye catching and timeless. Black onyx diamond earrings convey an air of elegance and class.The usual metal setting for black onyx diamond earrings is in 14 or 18 k yellow or white gold. You are not limited to these options, though. Sterling silver and stainless steel are also used as less expensive alternatives to more precious metals. Meanwhile, if you’re okay with putting out a lot of money for high quality metal settings, platinum is a great option. For those who want black onyx diamond earrings but have sensitive skin, you can easily purchase a pair set in titanium as the metal is hypo-allergenic.You can find black onyx diamond earrings in a lot of different designs. However, more traditional designs set of stud earrings in yellow gold are used as they are evergreen and never goes out of style. Meanwhile, using white gold metal settings will further create a lot of contrast, as you have more colors to play with.Some people can argue that less is more. Sometimes, that’s not always the case. Small can be beautiful, but large can be great. ‘Big girls need big diamonds’ according to Elizabeth Taylor, and this is very much true. Big, elegant diamond earrings set with oval-cut black onyx can really turn heads, especially with a white gold or platinum metal setting.A teardrop shaped pair of onyx diamond earrings can add much needed punch to any outfit. They are popular gifts for those who are looking for the perfect set of jewelry for a unique woman. You won’t be disappointed with your special someone’s reaction when she sees what you have in store for her. Alternatively, if you want to be a little more playful, you can also gift her with black onyx diamond huggie earrings.If you are looking for the perfect gift for an elegant, sophisticated, high class woman, onyx diamond drop earrings are a great choice. They are elegant, and is more suited to high fashion styles.They come in a variety of designs, a lot of different shapes, and a countless number of metal settings. With its versatility and eye-catching contrast, black onyx diamond earrings are a perfect addition to every jewelry collection.
About the Author
Black onyx ringscome in a wide range of styles and shapes. Find Great Deals on Black Onyx Jewelry!
Description ? No Product Facebook Cr? aci? n a look? unique and beautiful, these earrings offer the bold appearance of black diamonds in contrast to the eye to shine? Licata white diamonds, totaling 04.01 carats (ct). In situ? network in 14 carat white gold, this series offers a verse? til Supreme style? m? affordable. SKU: 01GD102525W. . . M? s information? n>>
Image taken on 2009-06-24 17:42:00 by Kevin H..
White and Black Diamond Hoop Earrings 1/4 Carat in 14K White Gold
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www. buy. com est slope? design ado beautiful? diamonds or whole year or a black and white frame? three pins. Manufactured Jewelersclub. com
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For m? S information? Not to buy now: www. HSN. Com Black tie affair or casual, these Black and White Diamond s outstanding sterling silver accents are the perfect finishing touch. Design or hoop? two rows is acid? and two a black tour of China. . . The price listed? S on the vine? Or a member? Pr? C? Obviously can not represent? Enter the current price. View HSN. com to view the current selling price. HSN Item # 408945
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Image taken on 2009-04-11 21:22:05 by Wootang01.
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Black Belt Seduction: Seduction Training For Men
Description? Product No s Facebook? Earrings pink topaz producers? Explode? rich and ex? ticos diamond black accents. The earrings are an extraordinary choice? fashion for any occasion? n. jewelry? a sterling silver sheen. . . . M? s information? n>>
Image taken on 2010-07-15 18:00:21 by Caer.
Silver Pink Topaz and Black Diamond Earrings
Go for these bargain-priced black diamond earrings! Even though it’s light on the pocket, these 1/10ct black diamond stud earrings in 10k white gold are very eye-catching! Wear these little studs whether you’re in a conservative mood, serious mood, or aiming for a sexy, mysterious look.
List Price: $ 99.99
Price: $ 39.99
Classic combinations never go out of style! Just look at the appeal of these 1 1/2ct black diamond stud earrings in 14k white gold! These earrings are adorable and affordable! Order yours today.
List Price: $ 1,299.00
Price: $ 199.99
Find More Black Diamond Earrings Products
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Link: www. buy. com 1/4ct TDW. Earrings? Silver Black Diamond Ring
Check out these Black Diamond Earrings images:
4 surprisegood (Miamai)
Image by Edith Ogleby
dame-edith.blogspot.com/2010/12/pose-revelation-props-and…
Dress: Mimikri – Nanette wine
Hair: Bliss – Queen, Vanille
Glasses: Wrigglesworth – Cat Eye Glasses
Gloves: Icing – Camera Girl Opera Gloves
Rings: Paper Couture – Diamonds and Pearl Ring, Leather Blossom Ring
Earrings: Paper Couture – Diamond Pearl Menagerie Earrings
Shoes: Paper Couture – Platform Pump, black
Stockings: The Rural Route – Varicose Veins with Support Pantyhose
Poses: Miamai – I was only dreaming, from the Props and Poses Fair
8 yay poses (Miamai)
Image by Edith Ogleby
dame-edith.blogspot.com/2010/12/pose-revelation-props-and…
Dress: Mimikri – Nanette wine
Hair: Bliss – Queen, Vanille
Glasses: Wrigglesworth – Cat Eye Glasses
Gloves: Icing – Camera Girl Opera Gloves
Rings: Paper Couture – Diamonds and Pearl Ring, Leather Blossom Ring
Earrings: Paper Couture – Diamond Pearl Menagerie Earrings
Shoes: Paper Couture – Platform Pump, black
Stockings: The Rural Route – Varicose Veins with Support Pantyhose
Poses: Miamai – I was only dreaming, from the Props and Poses Fair
Black Pearl Earrings & Necklaces – The Most Stunning Jewelry
Article by Lan Toma
Pearls are those timeless gems that are adored universally by almost every woman. These come in a variety of colors, whether crested by nature or processed by human beings for the purpose of jewelry designing. The exotic pearl jewelry, which is created by using black pearls, is believed to make a woman appear sensuous. It is for this reason that women, especially the celebs all over the world are embracing the fascinating black pearl jewelry as part of their essential accessories.
The rare and beautiful ‘Black Pearl’ hails from French Polynesia, namely Tahiti and the Cook Islands, and continues to be in high demand. However, fewer people can afford them. Black freshwater pearl necklaces have the same fascinating multi-color rainbow sparkle but at much more reasonable prices; most of these pearls also contain rich purple tones. Black pearls give the wearers a mysterious and extraordinarily attractive look.
There are some highly regarded, expert pearl wholesalers who offer exquisitely crafted, black pearl jewelry to suit some of the most refined tastes. Having their own pearl farms and in-house manufacturing units, they are able to offer an incredible variety of loose pearls as well as finished pearl jewelry at unbelievable wholesale prices.
Black pearls offered by them are available in different shapes, shades, and sizes – Round black pearls, black Button pearls, black Rice pearls, black Nugget pearls, black Coin pearls, peacock and black Potato pearls, Cross pearl in black, black Biwa pearl strands, top-drilled peanut black pearls etc. Black pearls with slight imperfections, also called the ‘Diamonds of the Pearl Kingdom’ are also available. These are elegant and can blend into any traditional or modern outfit.
Customers can conveniently shop for magnificent black pearl matching sets consisting of black pearl necklace, black pearl bracelet, and black pearl earrings, stylish necklaces with black Coin, Rice or Biwa pearls, with either 925 sterling silver or 14k gold pearl clasps, black pearl earrings in the choicest styles and designs – from the classical studs, through to fashionable Long dangling earrings, Leverback earrings, to Chandelier earrings, and lots more. Innumerable options are available for the jewelry designers as well. From loose black round large-sized pearls that are undrilled, to half-drilled black pearls that can be used for making earrings and pendants, they can find almost everything.
Because of the fact that the rich, beautiful black pearls accentuate any complexion, occasion and outfit, women all over the world love to possess the unique jewelry as their valuable collections!
About the Author
Lan Toma is a writer for http://www.OrientalPearls.net, a branch of C.D. Plus, Inc.- a California corporation, which provides cultured freshwater pearls and fine pearl jewelry directly from pearl farms and operates an in-house manufacturing unit at low wholesale cost. Its headquarters are in San Diego with offices in China and representatives worldwide. For more information, please visit http://www.orientalpearls.net
Related Black Diamond Earrings Articles
Amazon . Description? No product com Facebook diamonds to make a bright blue? Declaration? N in these particular huggy hoop earrings 12mm. Made? 10-carat white gold, 3 mm wide left? Hold a total of 32 round diamonds arranged blue? S in two columns along its curved front. The diamonds are set in rhodium black pin and has a beautiful color and brightness of the eyes. . . . M? s information? n>>
Image taken on 2008-11-04 21:22:26 by ArtJewel Designs.
10k White Gold and Black Rhodium Blue Diamond Hoop Earrings
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