An assortment of things I now associate with Islington.

sheets: my first week in London I bought some sheets at Wolworths in Islington. They were so scratchy and uncomfortable that I had to buy a whole new set somewhere else. I kept the old ones for guests, sorry guests, but it's better than nothing.

lomo photo gallery: that same first week, I also went to an event at a tiny gallery displaying lomo and lomo-type photos. I put this Holga photo up on the wall and left it there. I haven't bothered to go back for it and I don't think I ever will.

racial profiling: I also went clubbing with my taxi driver somewhere in Islington. He is black and got approached several times by preppy white kids who thought he might be selling drugs. Understandably, that pissed him off.

bathtub: I have some friends who live in Islington in an absolutely great flat with a giant jacuzzi tub that they never use because they are neither British nor female, two implied prerequisites for opting to bathe rather than shower.

futon: Occasionally if we are all out late together, me and the Islington friends with the great flat, the underground shuts down and I can't get back to my neighborhood-without-a-hip-night-scene unless I take a cab. And I can't afford that. So I gratefully sleep in the living room on the futon in my smelly, smoky clothes.

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