Yellow Dress and Chocolate Milk...

I don't remember too much about my first day of school, excpet the colors on the carpet of my kindergarten class and the fact that I wore a yellow dress with white checks, on which I managed to spill chocolate milk during lunch. Maybe that's why I spent my first day of MA orientation yesterday convinced that at some point I was gonna spill something on myself...

Addendum to Affirmation

Many thanks to jedwardkeyes for pointing out my gross omissions of Ian Curtis (tho technically he's from Manchester) and The Office (vis a vis ergo sum...how could I forget?) but I'm more upset that I forgot to include one of the truly great things about Great Britain:

11. Dude, McDonalds does banana milkshakes!!!

Affirmation

Someone* who shall remain nameless told me recently that my blog was starting to sound a bit anti-Brit (yes, this person is British). So, in a complete cowering to peer pressure, I'll now note some of the things I really like about London:

1. Hyde Park
2. The British Library (what this country hordes is unbeleivable)
3. The samosa from that guy on Brick Lane
4. Red and Happy magazines
5. That the NFI is showing the Dylan documentary and so is BBC Two
6. Muller Rice--that stuff is the business
7. The fact that people who have lived here for a long time can still get just as lost as me
8. All the open markets
9. Flowers everywhere
10. The cup of coffee I got from Corner Coffee on my walk this morning,the best 90p I've spent so far

There ya go, a ten-item salute.

Two (American) Football Tales

Me: Well, I'm in England with the most basic of cable packages (i.e. all home shopping, all the time). So the fact that football season has begun in the States is mildly heartbreaking. I miss the anticipation of beginning a Sunday or Monday night not knowing which team was going to win. I miss the coinciding cool snap in the air reminding me of Friday nights in high school. I miss the reckless gluttony that accompanies each game, the indigestion inducing array of chips, salsa, wings, beer, and chili without which no football game is complete. I miss the yelling at the screen, the ridiculing of the commentators, the quick rushes to the bathroom to pee between plays (ah, thank goodness for TiVo). I miss it all. You can take the girl outta Texas, I suppose...

So last Monday night marked the first games of the season and I'm in London, a city which gets far more excited about a game that sometimes actually ends with a 0-0 score, but for the most part, leaves the NFL out of the TV lineup, especially on my aforementioned poopy cable package. So I went out in search of a bar or pub that would pipe in the Cowboys game....didn't happen, as it turns out the Sky TV sports network only shows one game, which happened to be New York v. Arizona. Good enough, I thought. I had to go to great lengths, but I found it: the Sports Cafe, an establishment reminiscent of all the places I would have scorned at home: the ESPN Zone, Hooters, Planet Hollywood...we're talkin' a TV in every corner, underdressed waitresses and overpriced beer. And something else that my years in California made me forget about: smoking allowed.

I watched the whole game from start to finish. I listened to the incongruous voice of a British commentator giving his take after each quarter. I drank two Guinness and ate what passed for decent nachos. I wore my Dallas Cowboy jersey and yukked it up with other Americans in town who'd also found this gap in the time-sports continuum. It was great. Thank you, Britain. I left with a scratchy throat and seered lungs and a bit less money.

I would have been super-satisfied with this, one of my most memorable football experiences ever...but I just got an IM from my mom. My brother, Micah, it so happens, was in a lottery at work. Now, the kid says he never wins anything, right. Well, when it rains it pours or whatever the expression is, because Mr. Lucky just won two tickets to the Super Bowl. All expenses paid. Hotel, flight, car, probably free hot dogs, too (I hate hot dogs; it's just the principle of the thing).

Anyway, it kind of puts a bit of a damper on my story, eh? Just kidding, Micah. I'm really happy for you. Nope, not bitter at all.

Sigh...wonder which home shopping show is on next...

A special treat, pix of my pups...today is official "I Miss My Dogs Day."

Donut and Professor...if you don't think they are the most precious dogs in the world then there is something wrong with you.
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This is Professor, the smartest dog in the universe, reading to my friend V, who is housing both him and Donut in Portland while I'm away.
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Following are pix from BBC's Proms in the Park festival:

Beginning of the festival...everyone dry, happy and patriotic.
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Middle of the festival.... the first drops of rain have been felt and the preparations for the deluge are being made, including this very nice, resourceful green bag igloo.
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End of the festival, or "How we know we are in Britain."
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Something I find disconcerting...

The ominous use of the word "terminate" that has infiltrated my daily life via the hypnotic fembot voice informing all hapless passengers on the underground: "This train terminates at Seven Sisters" or, "Welcome to Kennington Station, where this train terminates."
I know, I'm a picky, paranoid American, but can't she just say "ends"?

It's nice to know that wherever you are in the world...

IKEA is there to infuriate you.

Things that took less time than getting a mobile phone:

1. Customs at Heathrow
2. Registering with the NHS
3. Finding a flat

Hampstead, near where my friend Sarah* lives.
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testing

check baby check baby 1,2,3