Saturday, February 24, 2007

I have to push the pram a lot

So, yeah.

Last week R and I went to Edinburgh where we spent the majority of three days 1) walking up and down hills (mostly up), 2) bickering and 3) taking [non-sketchy] pictures of local children with the added non-sketchy factor of us being female. The novelty of kids with British accents just never wears off. We saw the now stuffed Dolly the Sheep, a full rainbow, the hotel where J K Rowling finished the seventh Harry Potter book, some modern art, and some less than modern art. Also some art that is so modern that R had to tell me it was art. In an attempt to drink in some Scottish countryside, we went hiking and I managed to fall [valiantly in battle] and have left a chunk of my knee on the Salisbury Craigs.

Last night I saw Jean-Luc Picard--uh, Patrick Stewart, doing his Shakespearean thang in a rather Shackletonian adaptation of the Tempest. Which brings my Famous Person Sighting total up to about 5, which is a lot considering that before I came here, Brad Delp and Mark Hudson tied for first in the Most Famous Person I've Met category.

Also, the other day I was introduced to the concept of paying extra for one's doggie bag. I'm sorry, 20p for a little cardboard box in which to store the food that I'm already paying for? At the risk of securing my place in Eternal Spinsterhood, I have half a mind to bring a tupperware next time in abject defiance of their snooty excess charges. What's next? Uncorking fees? An extra charge for freshly ground pepper? 18% gratuity added to parties of 8 or more????

My brother has just arrived and is staying the week, which should be awesome (what, like a hot dog?) and full of conversations consisting entirely of Eddie Izzard quotes. Yesterday I went food shopping and stocked up on the four main food groups of the Limey Brother: Eggs, Milk, Cheese and Pasta. After arriving this morning and making a four-egg cheese omelette with three slices of toast, he is currently having a nap under the airline blanket he swiped. Ahh, almost like being home.

Off to Spamalot, complete with my flesh wound.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

I'd better stock up on my non-perishables

So rumor (rumour) has it that we are getting snow later this morning, around 6am, which I am excited about. They have dragged me around all winter; I will see snow forecast for later in the week and by the time the day comes, the little snow icon has disappeared, replaced by a rain cloud icon, naturally. But this time will be different, I can smell it. The BBC Weather site is still listing it as "heavy snow," lasting a few hours, and everyone is aflutter about the impending "storm." I got an email from my lecturer with a subject line of "contingency plans in the event of heavy snow on thursday," though upon further investigation I discovered that "heavy snow" really means 5 centimeters, possibly 15 up north. 2-6 inches?? Please. My high school didn't cancel class during raging ice storms. My college has had one snow day while I've been there, and it was only because the waist-high snow prevented our president from leaving his house. But here, you know, two inches--sorry, 5 centimeters--is a big deal, and the Tube will probably shut down completely and the power in my dorm will probably go out again, as well as the power in the three train stations on Euston Road.

I should really lay off on the snark, though, because I realize that even after enduring 21 years of New England winter, I have been completely weakened by London weather. It's been hovering comfortably around 45 degrees Fahrenheit during the day, and when it dipped to 30 the other day I nearly had a hemorrhage. Thirty degrees! Good lord man! Humankind has not endured such meteorological hardship! Whereas back home if it were 30 in January I would be shedding my coat and donning a coconut bra while humming "Mele Kalikimaka."