The Skinny

If there's one thing I like, one thing I appreciate about bands from North America, it's the fact that, more than likely, you won't find any of the male members clad in skinny jeans. Maybe it's just me, maybe no one else finds someone's "rocker" credibility to be slightly lessened by the presence of skin-tight, tapered ankle jeans, accessorized by any number of sparkly belt buckles or thrift store cardigans. I mean, geeky rockers are cool, but Weezer never tucked their jeans into their tube socks. I'm sorry. This is why, this evening in Camden, surrounded by North American accents, I relaxed into the scene at a "Stars" show. Now, Stars is a Canadian band, but they still understand the skinny jeans rule. Skinny jeans are for girls and guys I will never...ever...consider dating....but will most assuredly consider punching in the face.

Where have I been the past week, you ask? Well, busying myself being very important...organizing someone else's life. It's much more complicated than organizing my own life. I was working for a Dame...one of those "order of the british empire" types. She was lovely, and the people she worked with and negotiated with were lovely as well. She asked me to schedule a lunch for her on February the 14th with the private secretary to the Countess of Wessex. When I asked for a location that I might enter into the diary, she looked at me like I was from another planet and replied, "Buckingham Palace". To which I replied, "you'll have to help me with things like this...we don't really have palaces in the states...nor do we have technical royalty." I mean, Brangelina is about as close as we get to 'royalty' in Amerrrica.

Friday night Liam and I went to see the London Philharmonic for a surprisingly low rate. Liam is quite the sweetness. I mentioned that I might be interested in going, and he said he had a football match with some of his teachers from his school, but that there would be more shows in the coming weeks. Then, the next day, I got an email telling me that his football game had been cancelled and he'd gone ahead and booked the tickets to the philharmonic. They played The New World symphony, and afterwards we argued the relevance of such a mainstream piece. My argument was that it takes a great deal of brilliance to create a piece of music that remains to be accessible to almost everyone that hears it, and his argument was that it was used in a bread commercial...but it's not like it was WRITTEN for the bread commercial. It's just been exploited, and that's a totally different story.

Saturday we went to a farm in the middle of the city (in a part of the city I now want to live in) where we got to pet the pigs...not as cute as it sounds. They were wiry, and if you pet them too long, they made terrifying grunting pig sounds and plopped down in their mud pits. I couldn't stop myself from chasing chickens around as well.

Monday I went to register at the Dr's office...I was kind of nervous as this sort of thing usually results in some sort of rejection in America. However, I just filled in some forms and they asked me if I wanted to set up an appointment for Wednesday. WEDNESDAY! (and there was no money involved...NONE) Well, I wanted to, but I couldn't because I've been put on a new assignment beginning that day. It ends on Friday though. I'll have to make an appointment for next week and tell the agency about it this week. I'm also registering at another agency...as I've heard it's a good idea when temping and wanting to keep making money on a regular basis (and now that I've completely destroyed the poetry of this blog by inviting you into the mundane of my thoughts...I'll tell you a little bit about washing whites with beiges. It shouldn't be done...and I learned it the hard way...WHY??!!!)

Today I made my final decision about Skinny jeans. Consider it productive.