I'm Still Alive

Tonight I will be making my way back accross the Atlantic to see Sir Pasty and the rest of the crew and I promise I will be better about posting as soon as we return from my parents in law's house. They are slowly making their way into the 21st century with satellite TV and a cordless phone, but have not quite made it to the internet yet. So I won't be able to post for a few more days still I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas, or Chanukah, or Kwanza or whatever you celebrate. Make sure to stuff yourself with lotsa good cookin and alcohol too. :)

Where's the Love?

I know. It's been ages since I last wrote. I have been busy racing around all of New England trying to fit everyone in before I leave. This is in addition to my 100 year old grandmother having a stroke last week. So I think I have some pretty good excuses.

But this morning I was so shocked by the news on the front page of the globe, I felt the need to vent. So here goes: What the hell is Johnny doing?

I mean first Pedro leaves, then Theo, and now Johnny? This is the same Johnny who said he wanted to play for Boston forever? Is there any loyalty left in the sport of baseball these days? I mean, not only is he leaving the Red Sox, but he's going to play for.....gasp.......The Skankees. Did I read that correctly? Johnny Damon is not only leaving Boston, but he is leaving to play for the fucking Yankees? Well, let's face it y'all, he doesn't give a god damn shit where he plays as long as he can get his 52 million somewhere, and it's the Yanks who offered it. There is no such thing as team loyalty these days, only loyalty to paychecks and that is just pathetic.

I used to love Johnny Damon. And he was definitely the sexiest player on the Sox, until he grew his hair and his beard.



After that he looked like the smelliest player on the Sox, but I still didn't mind admiring his upper bod during interviews with his shirt off in the locker rooms after the game.



And then after the Red Sox won the world series and I saw him on several talk shows, I decided he was the dumbest guy on the Red Sox. I mean he didn't seem to know his ass from his elbow if you know what I mean. But now I just think he's a selfish, money grubbing jerk, who is as smart as cardboard, and also happens to smell bad and look skanky (he will do great on The Skankees).

Johnny Damon can KISS IT.

coming home in true boston style

sorry for the long delay. between the crazy freak snowstorm, jet lag, and trying to make arrangements to see everyone over the next 10 days, it hasn't left much time for bloggin.

on my first day back, i awoke to the most beautiful snow falling over the city. i was so excited because in england it never snows. i went for a walk around the reservoir near our house and met up with my dad in the afternoon to help him go grocery shopping (actually it was really because it was sooooo exciting to be back in an American grocery store again). when we came out of the grocery store, the "beautiful snow" had turned into blizzard from hell with white out conditions meaning driving at 5 miles per hour we couldn't see a thing. none of the roads were plowed because the snow was falling so fast and our car couldn't make it up the hill to our house. we had to abandon it and walk up the hill.

eventually, after shovelling out our driveway and walkway, we had to go back and dig out the car. we were hoping by this time the roads would be clear enough to get up the hill. after trying several different routes with no success, and not wanting to abandon the car overnight in the middle of the road, i ended up using the other car, a jeep with 4 wheel drive, to push my dad up the hill for half a mile. we finally walked in the door at 8:30pm completely exhausted and really sore. i think really mother nature was making me earn my trip home. now that it's all over, it sho do look purdy:

London Moment of the Day

Today is my last full day in London for a while. Tomorrow afternoon I will be making my way accross the ocean for some pre-Christmas R & R and to soak up the lovely Bahston weathah:) After that, I will be back to spend Christmas with my hubby and his family for a week in lovely Canterbury, England. So, in celebration of the fact that I will not have to face the drudgery of London living for 3 long weeks, I bring you today's typical London moment of the day.

I met Sir Pasty for lunch and was making my way back home, when I remembered we needed chickpeas as part of dinner tonight. Unfortunately this means a trip to our lovely local shopping centre called Elephant and Castle. Look how pretty this place is.





and don't forget the lovely ornament that adorns the whole place:




The photos don't even come close to sharing the utterly cheap, grimy and cheesy existance of this place. I wish I had a photo of the fake all white Christmas tree with bright purple garlands that is the center piece of this dreary mall. When you go up and down the escalators, there is a poster with Kate Winslet advertising a magazine, and that same poster has been there, in the same spot, turning brown, for as long as Jon and I have been together (over 5 years). Outside the center, and on the way to the Elephant and Castle subway stop, there are hundreds of stalls selling all sorts of stolen goods from all over the world (at very reasonable rates if you don't mind brownish fruit, or some dirt on your new clothes, or the smell of rotting meat).

Anyway, I made my way into the grocery store, and went straight to the bakery section because the french sticks were being stocked with fresh ones. Mmmmmmm....hot out of the oven yum. So I grabbed a bag and as I was doing that another man made his way over clearly with the same idea in mind. That's okay. There's plenty to go around. I mean they just stocked the bread, right? I watched him as he grabbed the tongs and began to fill his bag with the french sticks. One....Two.....Three....okay surely he's gonna stop now. I mean that's a ton of bread, but there's still a few in there. Four.....come on man......Five.....okay, you are at least gonna leave me the last one right, I mean I was here first, and it is only the nice thing to do, and I did let you go in front of me. I stared at him and he was swaggering and his hair looked like it hadn't been washed in a month or so. He looked at me with a look that was a cross between utter determination and complete insanity and announces "6 for a pound you know?" and puts the final french stick in his bag.

Now I know the way things work around this country, and the way people are obsessed with feeding the birds, regardless of the fact the city council continuously announces the pigeons are too fat and there is a serious problem with them shitting everywhere. I am sure that the pigeons in our local park have already demolished at least one of the french sticks that was supposed to go with our dinner tonight.

Espanol

After 4 weeks of intensive Spanish classes, 3 hours a day, 5 days a week, I thought I would give my Spanish a go by writing an e mail all in Spanish to my dear friend Ruben. Ruben is from Mexico originally. It took me about an hour to write 7 sentences, with contstantly consutling the dictionary and often guessing at how to phrase things, string sentences together. But somehow I managed to do it, if completely incorrectly!

Somehow it didn't occur to me that Ruben would write back in Spanish. I have just spent the last hour trying to translate a 7 sentence e mail from him! Thank god our flatmate Anna speaks fluent Spanish.

I think it's time to sign up for Spanish 102....

Feliz Navidad.

Vamos a la playa.

:)

Going Home......

This past weekend, I hit breaking point. Spanish class is ending, I still have no job, we haven't made friends, we never see the friends we have, we are sharing a flat and no longer can afford our own space, and we are living in a flat with absolutely no soundproofing whatsoever where we can hear our neighbors sneeze, fart, and burp, not to mention their absolute CRAP taste in music. This is in addition to the fact that they are very loud people anyway and every time we ask them (very nicely) to turn down their music, they tell us (rudely) it isn't loud. Um, yes it is which is why we asked you to turn it down. I don't really like my news mixed with crap techno thank you. By the way, is it illegal to put a poisonous snake through their mail slot? And now there is no longer a point to continuing to look for a permanent job as we are leaving in 6 months when Jon's contract is up which means it is time to contact cho mama's local temping agency to find new ways of whorring myself.


But first, there are just sometimes when you need to go home.





Though I am well aware it won't fix our problems, I am hoping a trip accross the big pond to see friends and family will give me some much needed distance from everything to regain at least a little of my sanity.

English vs Americanish

After 5 and 1/2 years of life with Sir Pasty, I thought I would have mastered all of the many differences between British English and American English completely. I mean the first few weeks we were together, it was like learning another language..... "loo roll? oh, you mean toilet paper!" or "peckish? oh, you mean you are getting hungry!", or "washing powder, oh you mean laundry detergent!". I thought surely after 2 periods of living here in England and years of living together, we would have all miscommunications sorted by now.

Wrong. I think it never ends. I seem to hear something new everyweek.

Last week, while we were visiting Liz for Thanksgiving, I asked her where something was, and she tells me (with a completely strait fact) "in the larder"

Larder? You have got to be kidding right? What the hell is a larder? Surely it is where they kept.....oh yuck...lard! In case you are wondering what it is, it is a pantry in Americanish.

And over the last week or so, Jon has been complaining about the annual work Christmas party he is dreading next week. He kept saying it was going to be really annoying because he is obliged to go, and everyone gets really into it, and it is going to be such a pain in the ass because it is "fancy dress". He moaned about it at least 4 times this week, and every time he complained about it, I kept thinking to myself, "why is he making such a big deal out of this? I mean he has plenty of clothes to wear to that, including a full on tuxedo sitting at his parents house that surely he could go and retrieve next weekend if need be." Today, upon complaining session #5, I pointed this out to him.

He says, "No, I can't wear the tuxedo to a 'fancy dress' party, because it is a heroes and villains theme this year. I wish I could just wear that cause it would be so easy then."

Huh? Say what? Como se dice? En Ingles por favor? "Fancy dress, and a heroes and villains theme?

And after a few minutes of putting two and two together, the penny drops. Fancy dress = Costume party. Just to double check, I asked if on Halloween, people here go to "fancy dress parties" and he says yes. Okay, now I understand. It all makes sense, sort of.

But I can't help but think that dressing up in a costume, is not the same thing as dressing up in fancy clothes. Personally, I think the term "comstume party" makes a lot more sense.

And I also can't help but realize that as far as I got with Sir Pasty's big scary 6 inch thick Art History research endeavor, was the title of one of the articles, which included "Fancy Dress". Now it turns out, I even misunderstood the title.

Nope, never a dull moment.