Obviously my sense of humor hasn't come very far

When I was in high school, I wrote a column in the school paper for which I researched bizarre facts of dubious factuality and wrote snide comments about each one. It's what I do best in life (shoddy research and snark, that is). One of my very first columns contained a fact that went something like, "Americans are more likely to crumple their toilet paper before using it, while the British tend to fold theirs." Fast forward to October 2006: I still don't know if that's true, but if it is, I can believe it. British toilet paper, even the cheapy Tesco brand, is about twenty-five times thicker than any American toilet paper. I can use one (one!) sheet at a time without even laughing at myself. You can't even get enough paper together to crumple without clogging the toilet. American toilet paper just begs to be crumpled; otherwise you sit there forever trying to arrange ten feet of paper in order to make your folded wad thick enough to use.

Um, am I the only one who puts this much thought into cross-cultural TP comparisons? Clearly I need something else to occupy my time.

In other news, it's [finally] becoming chillier, though the gods seem reluctant to let the temperature drop below 60 degrees. But to this downward trend I say it's about time! I might be in the minority on this one but I'd be perfectly happy if the outside temperature never rose above 65 degrees ever again. And so it's been lately, but that means I have to keep the window shut more often, and to get the oxygen/CO₂ cycling I bought an aloe plant which in a fit of silliness I named Mabel. In addition to keeping my lungs happy, it will also be handy if (when) I burn myself cooking, and I think aloe is hard to kill so I won't be convicted for yet another count of plantslaughter due to my brown, wilted thumb. Naming it was probably a poor choice, though, because now if (when) I do kill it it's going to be like that time when I named all my Oregon Trail characters after my family and then Oregon Trail Dad died of dysentery. The guilt! It nearly killed my 9-year-old soul.

Oh, and someone told me today that wintertime in London means this:

Sunrise: 8:30 am
Sunset: 3:30 pm

Seasonal Affective Disorder, thy name is Britain.

posted by limeywannabe @ 5:37 PM