Bus Stop Man

Having wasted  wisely spent the morning reading my blogroll and eating figs, dates and manuka honey on toast, I'm finally ready to put Kiddo's laundry out on the line. Because it's sunny. What a gas.

It wasn't an interesting week. SciMan returned from Munich and while he was gone, I again was reminded how much of a badass my mom is/was for being single mom for so long. But I'm more of a badass because I did it while wrangling public transportation schedules and without a dryer. Kiddo started school. Yeah, yeah...so did your kids. But guess what? My kid's four.

They start 'em young here.

Last year I met an elderly gentleman at the bus stop down the road from Kiddo's school. It was during the cold snap when we had weeks of snow and ice covering the sidewalks aka "pavement". We had a lovely conversation about him. I had a great view of his nose hairs. And then the bus arrived.

A few months later, we encountered each other again and it was like brand new acquaintanceship, for him at least. Took me way to long to figure out he didn't remember me. No big whoop, just minor ego bruising that is so trifling, I'm embarrassed to admit to it. Maybe I'm not really all that embarrassed. Americans are a dime a dozen here. And then the bus arrived.

One afternoon after work last week, I'm waiting for a bus to take me to Kiddo's school. This same lovely gentleman and I had the exact same conversation we had in December 2010. And then the bus arrived and I know no more about him now as I did then. But I sure do like him.

Edit 9:05 pm: I guess at some point I'm going to have to publish the post I wrote on December 23, 2010. But I don't fucking want to. Based on the comments from more than one of you by this point in the day, it appears that you don't know the story of me and my grandmother. Understandable, since this blog is not about my past, only about the daily conniptions I experience here in County Durham of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. So, for once, I suppose I'll address this. I'll get personal...but don't expect more of the same later. My grandmother was my best friend. I think I was hers, as only a little girl can be.

But then she began to forget me.

It was subtle at first. She began to address me as "Sheila", her daughter's name, who was alive and hale and hearty...just not in the state. The questions began to be repetitive... then tiresome. I got other best friends and other interests on which to spend my time, rather than taking the time to travel the 65 minutes to Ada, Oklahoma.

I grew up. She grew older.

Alzheimer's is a terrible disease. It scared me. I learned I was a coward. I stayed away, rarely initiated phone calls, never replied to letters.

So when I say "minor ego bruising", what I'm really saying is "my fucking heart bleeds still for the beautiful, talented woman who helped raise me and tried to teach me about what was good in life but died before she could finish".

So yeah, I know about dementia. And I'm fucking scared for my dad, for me, for Kiddo.

Fun Video Friday

Oh you crazy Scandinavian kids! Summer's too long for your parents.

Campaign for Real Ale

Know your rights, especially as a drinker, when you go next to your local. You could be drinking crap for all you know.

I had the amazing, once-in-a-year opportunity to go to the Durham Beer Festival held at the Durham University Student Union.


Yeah. I'm in Alice's world where you can drink pretty much what you want on a university campus. Ring, ringring, ring. Um, hello OU? Yeah, I'd like to open you up for this cool thing called adult discretionary activities where you could allow the adult students and adult faculty and staff to partake of the wonderfulness that is Delirium Tremens....

source

It's such a wonderful Belgian beer, I didn't even mind the pink elephants I saw...

I mean really, OU... If a #3 university in a CIVILIZED COUNTRY can have a family room for the underaged at a beer festival, surely too, you could as well. What better way to keep tabs on our youth than right under our noses as we imbibe?

You could even have security! They have such smooth butts to polish the handrails with! There's bathrooms for the washing of the hands afterwards! WE CAN DO IT! We can be the change we want to see!

And the clientele that would attend are the good ol' boys with money types. With a festival like this, people are there to spend money to drink beer. To drink beer. And to drink the beer. It's classy. See? The bartenders have official festival uniform polo shirts. There's a manly smell that you just can't get from the 50 yard line at Owen Field. Toby Keith knows this.

*****

I went this last weekend to the Durham Beer Festival, obviously. I really enjoyed myself...sensibly. I thought I caught a glimpse of a "minor" celebrity and was thrilled that I might get a chance at a reddit post, "Guess Who I Ran Into?" Alas, the fat man was just a fat man.

The fat man sitting under the PROMOTES DRINKERS RIGHTS sign, to me, looked like Nick the Greek from Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels. 

CAMRA, or Campaign for Real Ale, is an organization that was started in the 70s here in England as a way to keep drinking from being commercialized, a la Budweiser and to promote small pubs. I had several Englishmen (okay, two) tell me about their perception of Americans and the American beer (they think it's shit). 

According to these two Geordies, and if I'm honest others from the area here as well, think that all Americans drink is Budweiser varieties and the odd Coors and Miller Lites. I didn't totally disabuse them of that notion because well, those beers have their place. But I told them about how when I did go out to Louie's after a hard day of teaching 6th graders, I'd usually get a Sam Adams or a Corona. With lime. No salt. Or a Negro Modelo. With shredded lime on the goblet rim. The bigger the better. No salt. See? I can be a beer snob too.

First beer of the night.

So, the Durham Beer Festival. Really cool in many ways. First, it was on a university campus. Paradigm shift for me. Second, £10 for four half pints and I get to keep the glass? Bargain. Third, I got to go to a part of the University that I hadn't been motivated to explore prior. Really. Fourth, I got to go with my buddy, Ruth.

And I learned a lot about myself that night too. I learned that I LOVE Belgian beer. Best beer of the night? Delirium Tremens, hands down. It won "Best Beer in the World" in 1998 at the World Beer Championships. 

Also, I like the Dumbo reference.

Furries in Durham

Another surreal market day. Am thinking the remnants of the Edinburgh Fringe are trickling south and today was the day they hit Durham.

Tons of street performers and comedians. Gave a pound to a couple of teenaged buskers who aren't able to shave their faces yet; it was a pity donation. One of them tried to "Harpo" but forgot to not talk.

And then these buggers loomed out of the crowed. No. They "loped".




Srsly. What are two grown men doing in gender correct kangaroo aviator suits?

Unhinged Jaws

A few things...

After ingesting our morning carbs and dairy the other morning, Kiddo, SciMan, and I got to experience the spectator sport of watching "Fee Fi Fo Yum", a children's TV game show. It was really interesting that this is quality programming. It was similar to "Double Dare" but the carrot of the game show's premise is to NOT BE EATEN! BY A GIANT!

Oh yeah. Every so often, there'd be "commercials" like these embedded in the game show...because the show is on a fake network for giants, GTV. In the land of the giants, Hairy Mary is the spokeswoman of choice. Go ahead, take some time to watch them. It's only 3 minutes. Just make sure you don't have a mouthful of liquid.



See?

Now close your mouth. You know we could totally use a "Guff Muffler" to help us be in control of our output.

Want to see more? Try this or this. Totally worth your time, especially if you've got kids.

*******

Came across a few more jawbreakers...

Pay toilet outside of Trencher's restaurant in Whitby. Price?
Adults: 40p = $0.65
Children: 10p = $0.16

I think this is a little pricey to pay for #1 and #2. The pay toilet in the bus station in Durham is just a flat rate of 20p ($0.33)

Yeah. I get the rationale for pay toilets. But cleanliness is not always guaranteed. Neither is the prevention of an assault on your ol' olfactory senses.

 

Kiddo got this as a birthday present from one of her little schoolmates. OBVIOUSLY, schmuck means jewelry.
You paint it, then you bake it.
Heart warming. It warms the cockles of my heart.
There's nothing like hot cockles.

While waiting for Dad and Sis to arrive via train...

The "ice-cream-shoppe-vomited-all-over-baby-seal-boots" look.
I hope this look is catching on in the States... I don't want to be all alone with this.

At least VPL is still vogue.

You KNOW they called each other to coordinate!

Seen on the shelf in the children's library... The Ministry of Niceness

Initially, cute premise... but...

the message of the story is that cool people are not nice...therefore, BE NICE.

And then it becomes a governmental policy.

I can imagine...

...12 months probation for not holding a door open for the person behind you,

...2-4 months jail time for not giving up your seat in the front of the bus to an elderly or disabled person,

...10 years for buying Abercrombie hoodies and wearing them in public*. Plus five more if worn while rioting**.

Okay, okay... so that's really stretching it.

But this... THIS takes my breath away...

We're made of PORK! Our business is our own.

Can you imagine the commercial for this one?

interdental lisping: Yay MEAT!

Thank you so much, Tesco!

*Guilty as charged. Oops. My bad.
**I have nothing more to say about this, just thought there needed to be a double asterisk because that's what my teacher told me when we learned about writing outlines in junior high.

I drank the Kool-Aid...

...and it tastes all pink, green, and blue.

...because pink and green and blue were the colors for the day.

Took Kiddo to the park nextdoortoournewhouse! Packed a picnic bag (Thanks SJ!) and felt content after arrival. I had the kind of contentment that is a barrier to ever leaving this country.

DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE I'VE BEEN CONTENT?

Too long.

So here's some eyecandyporn for Friday's Fone Fdump

BEFORE

AFTER

I highly recommend to you Brookeshields wannabees that you immediately go find your nearest Indian lady and beg her to thread your eyebrows. If no Indian lady can be found, try some Iranians. Oh so much better than wax. Only, I recommend you not go get it done if you've just done really awesome eyemakeup. Smudged City. Ah, imperfections. How I love mine.

When Dad came for his visit (<3!!!), he brought the Lego set he bought me in 1988, The Black Monarch's Castle. 

And every good castle has to have a dragon... SO I BUILT THAT BADASS DRAGON! Design and implementation all from my brain...no showsies from a how-to booklet! Look, look! He even doubles as a T-Rex!

Also of note... We hosted poker for the first time in over 3 years. And here's what's cool about it => present at poker were the following people: A Cuban, an Englishman, a Taiwanese, a Belgian, a Frenchwoman, and two Americans.

This is the Cuban! They really do exist outside of Cuba and Florida.

Guess who won?

THE REALLY STYLISH FRENCHWOMAN OF COURSE!

Anyway. Like I was saying... if I was saying anything, which I doubt, my point is that I've now entered the phase of the ex-pat {wait, do I even qualify as 'ex-pat'?} experience where I'm reluctant to contemplate going home. I've found myself making plans that do not involve considering a move homewards. I enjoyed having people here to visit and found myself wishing for more time so that I could show them more of what I find wonderful about this place, like hot chocolate from a bar/lounge that really should be called hot liquid cake.

I really do still hate a lot about this country...and if last week's riots were any indication, so too do a lot of other people and for probably what's tantamount to the same things as me. Like, for instance, a 23 year old guy gets jail time for knowingly passing on herpes to his now ex-girlfriend. He got 14 months.

14 months?

How's that going to do anything to his future behavior? Would that deter you if you were determined to use a disease as biological revenge? It's just not common sense. The jails are basically full, from what I've read and it's not solving the fundamental problem. Does anyone even know what the problem truly is? I most likely don't, but I've got the outsider's perspective and shit ain't looking good from out here.

When I read about this crap or when I watch the result of economic and opportunity poverty unfold, my gut response is "I gotta get out of here." When I have to call the NHS Health Visitors to cancel an appointment that they set up but that I didn't want in the first place, I'm all like  ಠ_ಠ . 

But then there's being in places like this...

And this....

And this...

And so, yeah. I may have drank the Kool-Aid already...and I didn't realize it.

Visiting historic site with an architect.

My dad's an architect. I've got him and my sister here in town (today's their last day) and when in Durham, you got to go see the World Heritage site that is Durham Cathedral.

We took the "scenic route" up the river hill, really, for the reason that if done right, the first view of the Cathedral is jaw dropping. I had the two of them stop at the alley corner to shut their eyes and then I guided them around and from under the overhanging trees so that the first thing they saw of the Cathedral was the whole of the building in all its enormity.

My sister said,

"I wasn't necessarily breath-taken, but I was astounded...but that's because my words are very rarely taken from me...because I'm a talker. And then you told me The Venerable Bede was entombed there and of course I flipped a nut."

Dad's jaw did drop, which was the reaction I wanted from him. He studied Durham as an undergrad and for him to get to see it in person for the first time was, for me, very touching. We had poignancy; it was a real moment there for me. But then he started doing this...

He took pictures of the drains. 

Who does that? My dad, that's who.

So that was the first full day...walking around the Cathedral and walking around Durham City centre. There was lunch, too. Lots of real bonding for Kiddo and her Poppa.

No really...

She wanted to be chased. Honest.

And today, on the last full day with them here, we took them to what I've been told is the best fish & chips restaurant in the region...Trencher's in Whitby.

Seafood Surprise! There was caviar! That goop on the left was crab meat... um, yum? Yes.

Um, I'm not going to bother showing you the fish and chips because you can go to your local Long John Silver's and see what it is for yourself. Also, no pictures were taken of said fish & chips. And yes, it is the best fish & chips in the region. So go there when you're in town next.

Took a bus tour and really enjoyed the commentary! Saw all this crap!

Do you see my awesome photobomb? Totally not inadvertent; I meant to do that. Just like my dad meant to derp.

And...EVERYONE got to touch the North Sea...or Bay of Whitby.

I think touching every ocean is on my dad's bucket list.

Whitby. And this is a cool picture too, because you can see the evident Human-Environment Interaction.

Whitby Abbey. The one and the same that inspired Dracula.

And because I can't ever resist teasing my dad...here he is coming out of the bus station's pay toilet after using it. Just want you to be sure that you know that.

My sister says I am turning into "British-ese if you please."  What butchering of Lady and the Tramp! She says I'm speaking like they do here. Like, "quite nice" and "brilliant" and "hiya" and that's it. And so, then...am I really 'going native' if it is just those three? 

Well, when in Rome. And Rome was burning this last week.

Survival in England 101, vol 2: If you want white cake mix...

...do not buy the Postman Pat Fairycake Sponge Cake Cupcake Mix. It is not like white cake mix in the least. My Tesco did not have white cake mix. It had brownie and chocolate cake mix...but no white mix. Heh...affirmative action for the brown mixes!

Why am I needing to buy white cake mix? To make this:

source, although I'm sure it's Martha Stewart.

or a facsimile! Because? It's my/our birthday cake! Dad and sis arrive today so I thought it'd be nice at tonight's dinner to have a fun and festively creative cake for all our birthdays...since every single one of us has a birthday in the summer: sis's is in June; mine, Kiddo's, and SciMan's in July; Dad's in August...actually it was just this past Sunday.

I have such high hopes. I mean, had. Don't worry, I'll get there. But first! The buildup! We attempted to make a Jumbo Cupcake as seen on TV! No, wait... the box says "similar to 'as seen on TV'" Oh well...mistake #1.

I read the directions; I'm not that big of an obnoxious asshole. But I may not remember all the directions.

The top and bottom did not match, size-wise. And, instead of layers, there were "swirls". And mistake #2: Forgot to spray the silicone pans with cooking spray. FML.

Taste? Eh. It went okay. It was the texture that left me in the cold, dark netherworld that is the waiting room you stay in before you get to stomp on Martha Stewart's effigy.

Sponge cake is popular here? Really?

I WANT MOIST AND DELICIOUS CAKE! I want Minnie's Caramel Cake but without the caramel!

However, I had so much fun with Kiddo and I think she had fun too.

Anyone else do this rainbow cake shit with a modicum of success or are you like me and have a nice lump of cake in the trash?