Wednesday, April 30, 2008

On the Walls of the Underground

So...The Playboy Mansion place that exists. Every once in a while I come to this conclusion, and it's not like I ever change my mind or anything. It's not like I wake up one day and think...Playboy Mansion who? It's just that I'm reminded of existence on occasion...and it...almost always..causes me to pause. More often than not it happens when I'm channel surfing and I come across the infamous 'The Girls Next Door' (aka 'The Girls of the Playboy Mansion' as it's known in England because, apparently, 'girl next door' is not terminology they are familiar with over here), but today it happened as I was piling off the Picadilly Line at Turnpike Lane and I noticed a poster on a wall in the distance with a girl in a bunny suit on...possibly named 'Paris' (I was a ways away)...and then the words 'The Playboy Mansion' were splayed (is that a word...because it's in my head) across the middle of the poster. And, well, I just remembered that it existed...and that it know...acknowledged by a great deal of the world. Then I climbed out of the station into the spitting rain.

How is this reality? How is this a reality that we accept? And why does the youngest 'wife'? 'girlfriend'? 'Concubine'? Laugh like that? And why do we have to listen to it? And why does it suck us in? And when is that guy going to die? and how MALE centric can one television programme be? I's about those girls...but they exist...their entire based around this magazine that entertains men with boobs...and this old guy that apparently 'loves' least until they are 30 something...but not too much older...because women are of no use past that age. How is this not something we detest entirely? I'm tellin you...if I don't get some answers....

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Imagine a World

Without The Red Hot Chili Peppers. This is a statement made by a radio station I was listening to the other day at work. I believe it was Virgin Radio. The station then proceeded to play 'Californication' before I could properly imagine a world without the Red Hot Chili Peppers. It was rude really. For a brief moment I was awash with a sense of peace...and well being. and was all over.

Today I got mad at a coworker for making a (daily) jab at Americans. I swear you to...I have never had to shoulder more insults in my LIFE than I have had to sit through in England. We were chatting about a woman who's partner of eight years (and three children) woke up one day and told her he didn't love her any more...mainly because he had met someone else. She doesn't have a job. I mentioned that she should sue, and the co-worker remarked, "Caroline, this isn't America, we can't go suing people for anything we want." This struck me as a bit categorize this guy's crime as just any old thing. So I spoke up and said, "Why are you insulting me? What does this have to do with whatever you hate about Americans? I'm not chuckling about how she should sue him for spilling coffee on her lap. He left her with three children (his children) and no job. I didn't realize it was STUPID to think that perhaps he should be held accountable for the children at least." I swear to you, I have NEVER had to deal with being insulted as much as I do over here. They're always talking about how stupid Americans are and how much better the English are...they're awful. She responded to me by saying, "oh come on, it's not like I'm not going to get insulted all the time in America" (she's going to America this summer)....and well...the answer to that is...NO...we don't sit around telling tourists how much they suck. It's just not nice, and while we might be a little messed up at times...we're not total assholes. I bet Liam could count the insults he received while visiting me for three months on one hand...while the insults that I receive are countless. COUNTLESS. I'm sorry, but I really had to get that off my chest. I AM AWESOME...and my friends are AWESOME...and they are also AMERICAN. and...surprisingly...not total they will automatically be assumed to be when visiting England. What is the freaking deal.

So there you go.
my rant for the day.
Have a good one.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

I'm Pretty Sure

That I do not like having a stuffy nose. I mean...the rest of me feels fine, so I suppose I shouldn't be complaining...but the right side of my head feels like it's about ten times bigger than the left (you might expect me, at this point, to go for one of those right brained/left brained jokes...but I shall refrain...and leave the jokes to the professionals). I feel like I'm going to keel over to the right and bang my head on something. It's unpleasant. Also...I've eaten about five prunes today. I've taken to prunes as of late because I find that I enjoy...the benefits of prunes. You can make all the 'old people' jokes you want. I'm walking with a spring in my step and it ain't cause I got Bingo in about an hour.

Today I spent two hours filling out an online application for this Education program I'm trying to get into here in London...and then I pressed save...and everything was erased. It was stunning...magnificent...almost like watching a building implode...except way less cool. Note that I capitalized 'education.' I'm not sure why, but I'm too lazy to go back and change it.

It's finally possibly getting warm across the pond. I keeping mentioning having a cinco de mayo party, but people just look at me blankly and say, "what's 'cinco de mayo?" To which I can only reply, 'It's the fifth of May. You eat Mexican food and drink Margaritas." "Why?" "Uh....because the Mexicans are celebrating something...or the other." "Why?" "Uh...because it's the fifth of May." I am the ultimate...not the best...the ULTIMATE.

The Goonies came on TV over here today. I made Liam and James watch it while we prepared our roast duck for dinner. That's right...roast duck...I'm like royalty. I'm like friggin...Prince William...only way cuter. Liam had seen it before, but seemed to enjoy it much more the second ya do. James seemed to enjoy it right off the bat. Don't worry folks...I'm workin' on it. The Americanisation process can take months, even years.

So yeah...I'm going to lie down now...on my right side...because that's the direction my head is leaning due to the outstanding amount of pressure building up inside my nasal passages. No worries, my lovelies. All will be fine. I've taken some stuffs.


Saturday, April 19, 2008

My Best Angle

So...I was thinking...perhaps the reason I can't get into blogging lately is that I'm not allowing it to be what it has been for me in the past...basically a rant. I find that I humor myself the most by entertaining bitter thoughts about life. But...I mean...happy bitterness...the kind that gives satisfaction...perhaps it's like the satisfaction losers get from seeing how much pain they can, like, stapling their hands over and over again. satisfaction comes from an enlightened, slight...anger? is that it? Meh.

I'm going to tell you about Italy...but not about all the AMAZINGLY beautiful secluded beaches...because that would just make you would make you feel less than me (maybe) because you didn't get to go to a little island off the coast of Italy and stay at a little Villa with kitties that run to you when you exclaim, 'kitties!' I don't want to make you feel like that...because you are special.

So I'll tell you this: It was the wind...somewhat warm in the sun...and all the Italians walked around with angry grimaces behind their layers and scarves while Liam and I stripped down to summer wear (except at night...because...i mean...we're not totally bad-ass). We rented a car...which I drove...because...well...Liam is from England and doesn't really need to drive..especially not on the right hand side of the road. My first shock came when I looked at the speedometer to discover I was driving 80....I let out a little yelp..which I quickly swallowed when I reminded myself that Italy measures things in Kilometers. so...i was really going like...30? you do the math. then I realized that everyone in Italy drives like they are on crack. CRACK...and that 80 is way way too slow for driving while on crack. Imagine little old me with triple my normal road rage...and i admit to having a decent road rage at present. There was one point, and I am not proud of this, when Liam had to yell at me to relax and let the Italians do their thing...because probably none of them wanted to kill me. WANTED to kill me.

We stuffed our fact...I'll tell you about the restaurants...or this one in particular...I can't remember the name but it was 5 courses including wine and a digestive (liqueur) for 35 Euro. The motto was 'only fish, only fresh, only at night' except, that, in Italian. I ate more than I have ever eaten in my life. I also ate things I never imagined I would squid ink pasta...well...only a little...i can only go so far. we also at these shell things that you had to dig out with a was kind of gross...but interesting? and when we finished our first half liter of wine (extracted from a giant 5 liter jug no doubt), they brought us another one. Oh...and the shrimps (excuse me, prawns)were giant with heads on them....another thing I just can't get that looks at me.

we also walked down 650 stairs to get to Neptune's grotto...which means we had to walk back up 650 stairs to get to the car. The grotto was very impressive and lovely...but instead of going for the cheap thrills of telling us little stories about people that may or may not have died in the grotto...the tour guide just talked about geology and stuff. aw well. I got to see liam bump his head a couple of times.

On the last day, we found a totally secluded beach. and it would have been totally rad if we didn't have to shield ourselves from the battering blasts of sand picked up and flung at our faces by the unrelenting winds. In the end we just found a beach with some kids on it, out of the wind, and I buried liam's foot in a mountain of sand while he read. I tried to get some sun, but when I got back to work, my coworkers, instead of giggling about all the sun I got said things like, "oh welcome back! did you have fun! you got some...sun? a little? maybe?" the confusion was probably due to the sand burns.

So Italy....more specifically, Alghero, Sardinia....while being quite also full of the realities of life...and to recap, those realities are: booger like fish that you will sometimes be obligated to try just so you don't look like a wuss, crazy Italian drivers, evil wind, and lots and lots of stairs.

But if you're really lucky...there will always be kitties.

Friday, April 18, 2008

This is what I think

I think that Nickelback (or however you spell it) is horrible. I think that if I have to listen to that stupid rock star song one more time, I'm going to turn into a person that I never thought I'd be. The other day, I was talking to Liam while forcing him to listen to the song and imagine having to listen to it two to three times a day (radio stations! HANG THE DJ!)...and I actually said, 'I want to beat them...with one of those know...with a spike on the end.' Do you see? I'm resorting to medieval warfare. I'm resorting to barbarism. I've become something no one should become. I've flirted with the dark side. Next thing you know, I'll be dressing in animal skins...that I've sewn together with my own hair, and I'll be running around caked in mud and yelling inaudibal phrases...much like a Nickelback song. I'll tell you what I want, Nickelback...for you to stop. Also, 'If Everyone Cared'...your music would not be popular. Perhaps I am being too harsh...perhaps there is some value in the nonsense they produce...perhaps they are lovely boys...or that song supposed to be ironic? I don't know, but something tells me irony is not something high on their list of rhetorical devices. Now, If you'll excuse me, I have to go kill and eat my lunch...with my bare hands.

Thursday, April 10, 2008


I am writing...not to give you a cooky glimpse into my FFAbulous London life, but to let you know that I will probably be out of pocket until next Tuesday evening (afternoon for all you overseas fans...well..probably my only fans). I am going to Italy. Yep. I am. Tell you about it later.


Saturday, April 5, 2008

In case you were worried that I was out of the loop


*note the time of posting: 1:22 a.m. Greenwich mean time +1 hour. I'm with you my friends...even if it means I have to nap during half time to stay awake for the rest of the game.