I'm Trendy

Hey, It's John. Whattup?
We had a fun weekend. We went to Old Street on Saturday night to a bar called the Lounge. The bartenders were all foreign, like me! One of them I call crazy 80's metal mullet guy or C8MMG for short. C8MMG told me that wearing a New York Dolls T-Shirt is trendy. I was wearing one. I was all like fer real C8MMG? I'm from NYC so I didn't know. I thought I was cool, wearing a shout out to Johnny Thunder. You, faithful reader, pick if I mean the Kink's song or the guitarist.
Well, being from NYC, C8MMG thought I was the shizzle. He then proceeded into a monologue on WASP. WASP?!

We then had exciting late night indian food from our neighborhood. Rebecca from ASDS who met up with us at the Lounge came on down (Old Street is North of Clapham North - I am not antipodean, so South = Down for me) and ended up crashing with us. Our friend Myke (that's how he spells it, honest) made the guy serving the food crap his pants in panic. Apparently he couldn't handle the order and tried to call in for reinforcements. "They're asking for 4 Naan, we only have 2, and the Chicken Jalfrezie is out of Jalfrezie, GOOD GOD SAVE ME!" In his defence, we were less than sober and he appeared to be covering for his brother.

Good news though - no street/transit vomit incidents this week.

BTW - Jamie is slammin in her new clothes.


There's a cool show here called Brainiacs- History Abuse. One of the key features is a bunch of nerds using a battering ram to perform common household tasks. And two guys who try fix their camper with explosives, and it always goes wrong. Good stuff.

I'm sorry- whoosh?!

If you've been a loyal reader, you are aware of the troubles we have had hanging things on our walls. We were given permission in writing from the Landlord, but were not told that many of the walls are impenetrable. We've finally given up and it's a damn good thing we did. Here's why...The Landlord has guys that come around and check on work that was meant to be done by the "Decorators." They came by today to check on work that was done a couple of weeks ago. One of the men, Clive, is a regular- he does all of the work in our flat. He has seen me in different stages of getting the flat ready and remarked on the fact that I had managed to put all of our furniture together and he motioned to the bookcase. I explained that since we couldn't drill into that particular wall, I was worried that some day the bookcase may come crashing down on me. Well, the man in charge says, "Oh yeah- don't drill into the walls. You have a system in there that prevents the damp from coming in. If you drill into that, Whoosh!" I'm sorry- whoosh?! Then he says, "Well, it wouldn't be quite that bad." I'm sorry- whoosh?! Thankfully, we had decided to succumb to the impenetrability of the walls (most likely there to protect us from the whoosh,) but what if we had decided to get masonry nails and power through? I really wanted our family pictures over the sofa. What if I had been a bit more stubborn? I can just see John being washed away by the water gushing out of our pipes. And I wonder why on earth the Landlord would give us permission to drill into the walls knowing that there was a possibility of a whoosh! Oh well, no harm done. But I wonder what else he's forgotten to tell us...

Why So EARLY?!

Apparently we have lazy or angry, ruthless, vindictive Garbage Collectors in Clapham North. Every Thursday at 7AM they arrive to collect our garbage. This might not seem like a problem for those of you who haven't seen our flat, but let me assure you- it is. Our bed is right next to the window that looks out onto the garbage cans. And since our windows are Shite (my new favorite word) we basically sleep next to the garbage cans. So, the fact that our Garbage Collectors can't or won't bother to pick up the 8 or so garbage cans, but instead prefer to drag them across the stone walkway all the way to the truck and then drag them back to their place is extremely upsetting for someone who is trying to sleep right next to all the action. Are they just lazy or do they feel if they have to be up, everyone has to be? Either way- they are not my favorite people. I firmly believe it is because of this routine that Thursdays have regularly been my worst days in London. And so, we are moving our bed to a different wall this weekend in the hopes that it won't be quite as bad next Thursday. I have my fingers crossed.

In other news- I will be volunteering as a Steward (usher) at Shakespeare's Globe this summer! I am very excited, because I really want to work at The Globe and I'm hoping I'll meet the team this year which will help me get paying work next year. I will also get to see the shows for FREE!! I have to do something like 20 shows from May to October- as if! I'm going to do as many as possible- In case you can't tell, I am uber-excited. I have an Informational Session on March 11th (my Mum's Birthday!!) so I'll keep you posted.

I have also been sending out lots and lots of CVs- mostly for volunteer work at theatres, script reading, ushering, backstage, etc. And I have an interview with a Temp Agency on Monday. I know- I know- I hate temping too, but we could use the money and I'm getting bored looking for work all day. Besides, I'm going to stand up for myself and only take work when I feel like it! No really- I won't be full-time by May- I swear.

John is doing well- I know you haven't heard from him in a while, but I swear I don't have him locked up somewhere. Between work and the gym (yes, he's still going to the gym and he looks quite good) he is very busy. I'm sure you'll hear from him this weekend.

The weather is pretty crappy- cold and rainy- but I'm not complaining. We had a couple of really nice days while Flo was here and they say it should start to warm up next week.

Hope things are going well over there- we miss you all very much.

Silly American with British Food

I didn't blog yesterday, cause we were too busy, so here I am blogging late for both Saturday and Sunday...it's been a very busy and totally awesome weekend!

Ok, first things first: I happened to weigh myself on Jamie's scale Thursday night and I discovered that I had mysteriously lost 3pounds somewhere over the Atlantic. Now, I don't know if maybe the Earth's gravitaional pull is slightly less severe in London due to the extensive pollution, but I have to say I was psyched. By Friday morning I was another .5pound lighter. I think it might be time for me to invest in a new scale since mine is old and clearly miscalibrated. This being said, I planned to eat my way through the weekend. Oh, food glorious food.

On Saturday, after Jamie dragged my sorry butt out of bed, we decided it would be fun to walk along the South Bank and see the Globe Theatre, National Theatre, London Bridge, Millennium Bridge and Black Friar's Bridge. Which we did, BUT before we even got there we stumbled upon the Borough Market...this odoriferous open-air food market. So, we shove our way through the crowds to check out the stalls and Jamie finds a chicken burger place where she gets herself a sandwich with "everything"-- everything includes mayonnaise, salsa and spicy German style mustard. Yum?? I get it in my head that since I'm in England I should have something that I would never eat in America...hey-- when in London, right?! So, I stand in an endless queue for a West-country venison burger (I'm pretty sure Whales is the West-Country, but I'm not 100% sure on that point). There are lots of condiment options and I see bright yellow mustard that sure looks like French's to me. Since I don't consider French's to be very spicy and since I'm a little concerned about the actual taste of a venison burger I get it in my head that I need extra mustard, lots and lots and lots of extra mustard. I slap the bun in place and march off...then I take my first bite. Eye-popping, palate-burning, nasal-searing pain ensued. With tears streaming down my face I searched for a bin to spit the offending bite into. Needless to say, there weren't any and there I stood like a silly American, trying not to breathe through my nose or move my tongue. Jamie took a picture. The point of this story is: just because you see yellow mustard that looks like good olde American French's does not mean it is French's. Come to think of it-- at no point should you look at any food here and just assume it's like it's American counterpoint. I got rid of the bun and wiped off most of the evil wasabi/horseradish mustard in order to eat the venison. I made a valiant effort, but both Jamie and I ended up with big nasty stomachaches after that. We needed a brief time-out.

Moving on.

Following our tour of the South Bank, we crossed the river to take a proper English Creame Tea. Along the way we met a stag party. Yep, that's right I flew all the way to London to see how the English treat their grooms-to-be. This bevy of boys was actually wearing antlers...pretty funny unto itself, but add to that the fact that they all had custom-made rugby shirts on that included a picture of the groom on their chest and their nick-name on the back and they were quite the drunken herd. Since they were lost Jamie whipped out the omni-present A-Z and explained to them how they were to get where they needed to go. Boy, there's nothing like seeing an American gal tell a group of English lads how to get about in London. I was very proud. They wanted us to join them on their pub-tour, but we declined.

Finally, we did have a lovely tea. Then we were off to Jubilee Market, for some souvenir shopping. At about 6 we met John for dinner. It would have been a great meal if it weren't for the fact that Jamie ordered Asparagus Linguine. Described as linguine in a white wine butter sauce with sautéed asparagus it certainly seemed like a nice little vegetarian dish. Out comes our food and there on Jamie's linguine is squid AND ham but not one piece of asparagus. We called the waiter over to make sure that he brought out the correct dish. He did. We explained that Jamie was a vegetarian and he shrugged his shoulders. She picked everything out and ate a few noodles before giving up in order to have some well-deserved New York Cheesecake. (I had Berry Charlotte, as with the Welsh rarebit I had no idea what a Charlotte was, but I ordered it and it was great). When Jamie got home she posted 3 online revues...so future diners would beware. Way to go Jamie, if it had been me I would have sent it back!!!
Squid my ass!!!

We ended our evening with a trip to the theatre, Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus. It was a 6-person production done with an amazing mobile set in a studio theatre. Fabulous direction, great acting (I think the English are born reciting Shakespeare) and a near-flawless use of set, props and stage. It was great and we all really liked it. We paid a lot for the tickets, considering the space, but I'm glad we did cause I really wanted to see a show while I was here and this was sooooo well done. I was impressed and I think Jamie and John were too, but I'll let Jamie do actual theatre critique in another blog.

Sunday morning Jamie had to drag me out of bed again, she very nearly deflated the air mattress out from under me. I'm glad it didn't come to that 'cause it would have made for a lousy start to my morning. We had a delicious brunch at a local cafe with Drew, another American living here. After that we set out for the infamous Spitalfield's Market. This is a HUGE flea-market style space with hundreds of stalls...everything from funky-new-hip clothing to retro-vintage pieces can be found for men or women. Accessories galore, CDs, food...you name it. We walked the entire space and I spent all the cash I brought. Jamie and I each left the market with about 4 outfits...she got 2 dresses, 2 tops, a t-shirt, a belt and a necklace while I left with 2 dresses that can double as tunic tops, suede boots, a hobo bag, a belt and a scarf. We were so exhausted after spending all that money that we went to a Spanish place for tapas and wine. When we got home we did a little fashion show for John, who was such a good sport he even took pictures. Tonight, after some incredible Indian food, we played a rousing game of Scrabble, unbelievably I won.

It was a really great weekend, lots of eating and shopping. Tomorrow we'll hit the gym to work some of it off before I have to fly back to the States :(
This is a great city, everyone should come visit Jamie and John!!

Mormans with Lacy Tights and Short Skirts

Sing it with me folks, "I like a girl with a short skirt and a looooooooooooong jacket." Oh, yeah!

OR if I am in London (and I want to do as the Londoners do) then I have to wear super skinny jeans or stretchy pants with some kind of Robin Hood type slouchy suede boot. I kid you not this is the uniform of choice out here and every female wears it-- young or old, short or tall, skinny or fat. The other option for birds on the make is an itsy bitsy teeny weenie skirt with woven/lacy/funky/holey tights and, again, aforementioned boots. Never fear if you have no idea why I'm telling you this, it will come up again in a bit.

Super-guide (Jamie the never-lost urban-tracker) and I had a great day...we hit the gym at about 10:00 (about 4:00am CST--- which is pretty much what time my body thought it was). I had my ass kicked-in by some nutty cross-training machine that made me wish I had remained on the couch where I passed out last night in total slap-happy exhaustion. But no, I persevered and managed to get 35 very painful cardio minutes in before I headed over to the free-weights and attempted to convert kilograms to pounds so that I would know how much I could actually lift. 1 hernia later I figured out that you shouldn't go to the gym in London unless you really are awake. I left Jamie there and headed home on my own, way to go me-- I didn't get lost or hit by a car coming from the "wrong" direction.

On a much higher note we did get to Covent Garden, where I picked up a couple of gifts and then we went to the National Gallery...which was awesome. I have to admit that I also hit a Starbuck's up for a double-cappucino non-fat take-away. Tacky, I know, but I just couldn't help it-- it was right there calling my name and as we all well know they put crack in their coffee and I just needed my fix. Interestingly, if you buy your coffe and want to stay in the space you pay an extra 20 pence for the priveledge...take away is cheeper, lucky me.

Round about 18:00 (after 1 much needed power nap) Jamie and I hit the bricks in our finest...and met John at an incredibly swanky super-duper shee-shee bar/club where his co-workers had "the gold room" reserved. Oh yes--let the stupid British fun begin. Since I didn't want to stand out as an American I was wearing the uniform: itsy bitsy teeny weenie skirt with lace tights and boots. Let me just say that if I wore the same outfit in Chicago I would be: A) a freakin' moron cause it's cold and B) a ho. Also, for those of you who are interested in the cost-of-living difference the drinks Jamie and I had last night were 9pds or for you math wizzes about $18.00. No doubt my fiancee is reading this and shuddering at the thought of me spending $18.00 for one drink, well then he would really hate to know that my entree at dinner was a wopping $37.00 and that was not for a prime cut of meat either.

We met the people John works with and interestingly they didn't volunteer names even when I told them mine (I had to flat out say to every single person, "And your name is?"). Instantly, Jamie and I became "the interchangeable American woman." Basically, if I met 1 co-worker and she met another they would later think of her as Flo and me as Jamie and/or some single incarnation of each other. (No we were not dressed even remotely alike). A few people also came to the oddball conclusion that I was John's wife and she was the visiting friend (a mistake that didn't go over well and was rapidly corrected). One man, who we'll refer to as "Mr. Two Drinks at Once" decided that he loved my tights...and would not stop talking about them or staring or well, he was rather interested in them and, I guess by proxy, me. He was also interested in why I "stalked the Ramsburgs" by coming all this way to see them and then crashing at their flat. We told him we were Mormons and that I was John's second wife. Now, telling a Brit that you are Mormon means two things happen. The first is stunned silence while the second is major backslapping and high-fives for John who had scored himself two wives. I would have thought that two wives would be considered, by most men, as double the headache, but hey what do I know. We left the gold-room 'round 22:00 and trekked endless blocks to a pool pub. It was a yicky smoky place, but we stayed till 24:00. Jamie had lots of time to make new friends and it was, overall, a great great night. There was also one individual who literally sang his way through the night with random Bob Dylan lyrics...he didn't converse, he just looked at you and sang a lyric in a crappy pseudo-American drawl. I imagine that he chose Bob Dylan cause he thought we would appreiciate it as Americans, matter of fact John did. I have no words for John.

We navigated the tube back home where I counted no less than 5 piles of vomit...note to transit workers: if there were trash cans in the tubes, people might choose to throw up in them rather than all over ever single other surface, but again what the heck do I know?

Anyway, lots of love to America and more tomorrow...

PS-Dad, I had Welsh black-rib steak tonight! I'm on a Welsh roll here!

Big Brother's Missing Bins & Clotted Cream

Hello my fellow Americans...Flo here ;) I am starting the trend of guests blogging during their visits...it may not be as good as Jamie and John's usual posts, but well...you don't have to read if you don't want to :p

It's about 6pm here...I arrived at about 9am-- 30 minutes early no less-- and Jamie and I have been going ever since, which considering the limited amount of sleep I was able to get on the plane says a lot about my ability to "power through" via a coffee mainline. I have to mention the shrieking (not crying, but truly screaming) infant on the plane who made this God-forsaken noise from about 11:30pm-1am while most of the rest of the passengers were trying desperately to sleep. Lucky, lucky us. Of course I'd hate to leave out the 4 year old twins who sat directly next to me...apparently their state-side bedtime must be mid-night...cause that's about the time they stopped pushing every button they could reach while simutaneously slobbering cumbs on all surfaces. It was good times folks, no doubt about it.

So, here I am in merry-olde England and I am loving it! It was fabulously sunny when we got off the tube from the airport...granted the moment we set foot in the flat it started to sleet the size of M & M's, but hey-- that's really not point...the point is that it was momentarily a shiny bright day and I enjoyed the little walk from the tube to the Ramsburg flat. (The super-duper flat is way freakin' better then the pictures, which don't do it justice and-- for those of you who were familiar with the Horatio St. walkup-- this place is a PALACE and I kind of want to move in...P.S.- that's totally doable with a bigger heater in the 'conservatory').

Now, on to one of the points of this little 'guest blog' of mine: missing bins. Hmmmmmmmm, I got myself a little cappucino to-go while I was at the airport...needless to say, I finished it in record time and there I was wandering around in search of a trash can to dispose of my little waste. What a fruitless effort...turns out bins have been banned in the airport and the tube stations out of a fear for bombs. Ok, so I get it...keeping the citizens safe is of the utmost importance; However, I carried my empty cup around for over an HOUR because my mother raised me right and I cannot be convinced to litter, I feel really, really guilty. Of course if I did litter there's a good chance I'd get a ticket...not because there are Bobbies running around on every other corner, there aren't...but because there are cameras, quite literally EVERYWHERE. I am in no way exaggerating this point...it's kind of fun to find the tiny cameras in a busy place. So, for all you Americans, who bemoan our government's 'atrocious' invasion of personal privacy via phone taps or cameras or whatever political bug has wiggled up your butt to complain about...all I have to say is: fly across the Atlantic pond where the Red Coats can count your nose hairs from 500 feet. Woo hoo...boogies here I come. On a total sidenote-- you CAN throw trash away at the airport. You just have to find the trash man. That is, the man who walks around with his arms out and a trash bag...yep--he's the totally mobile human waste bin. If you can catch him then lucky you cause then you get to get rid of your garbage. For the record this beautiful historical city is riddled with garbage and don't even get me started on the human turd in the alley(!). I have to pose the question..."Do you think America could use some human trash recepticals?" I hear a Democrat (re: ME) suggesting a welfare jobs program.

Jamie is, as can be expected, an uber-guide and is already pretty flawless about getting around the city...way to go JLCR!! After a quick lunch here at Cadmus Close Flat B we headed out to Harrod's...even though it's incredibly touristy (think Macy's in Herald Square), but there are some really high-end things and beautiful, if ridiculously expensive clothing. I picked up some fun things for my mom and dad. Then we went for tea at a cute cafe...we shared Welsh Rare Bit (an ode to my father's Welsh roots-- he would have been proud) and it was great, I would highly recommend it and no I'm not actually going to tell you what it is. We also had scones and clotted cream with jam. Um, clotted cream only sounds like a disease...mostly it's a flavorless butter-like substance about the consistency of margarine, but slightly less solid. Too many details? Too bad, I'm the guest blogger and I'm having fun doing this and since I check the blog every day, I figure there are others out there like me who will enjoy this little afternoon update.

Jamie and The Late Henry Moss

Hi, Everyone- I hope those of you living on the East Coast are doing okay in the snow. The BBC showed the skiers in Times Square this morning. I never understood those people- why ski? Are you that desperate to go skiing? Well, in any case, I hope you had a few snowball fights and made a couple of snowangels before it got too gross!

I had a fantastic weekend! John filled you in on most of it. So, I will just tell you about the show I saw on Saturday.

I attended a Saturday Matinee performance of The Late Henry Moss by Sam Shepard at the Almeida Theatre. I was, of course, extremely early so I sat at the Cafe and read the paper. The cafe had surprisingly good coffee. This is important, because not all theatres have good coffee in their cafes. Actually, most places here don't have good coffee PERIOD. But I digress.

You know how there's a sort of stigma surrounding Matinee crowds? Well, this audience was no different. I guess I was surprised because it's Shepard and I don't know how many 70-year-olds would particularly enjoy Shepard- especially 70-year-old British people. So, I was looking forward to hearing their thoughts. And they did not disappoint. During Interval a woman behind me said to the man sitting next to her, "He's very good at weird, isn't he? Because this is weird!"

I have to preface my opinion of this production with the confession that I have not read The Late Henry Moss. So, I am going to raise a few questions. If you have read the play and have an answer, please post a comment. Also- I am just starting out and realize that I am low on the totem pole compared to Michael Attenborough, the Artistic Director of Almeida Theatre and Director of this production. But these are my thoughts...

I'm going to start with the question everyone is asking: how were their accents? I am happy to report they had the same problems we have with the British Accent. There are so many variations, it's hard to stick with one. The two main characters are brothers Earl and Ray. They supposedly grew up in the same house and yet they sounded completely different. Remember Putty, Elaine's Mechanic Boyfriend on Seinfeld? That's what Earl sounded like- slick, pointed and for the most part- Neutral. Not bad. Ray, however, was John Travolta meets Sean Penn. His accent was all over the place, but it was never neutral. Then there was Henry, their father. His was Southern and for the most part it was consistent. The funniest accent came from Esteban, the supposedly Mexican neighbor. The only reason I know he was Mexican is because they say it toward the end of the play. But for the first hour or so, I couldn't figure out if he was Mexican or Cuban. Most of the time he sounded like Scarface and every once in a while a very Mexican sound came out of his mouth. It was confusing. The best accent came from Taxi. He was Texan and he was consistent. Everyone strayed from time to time back into their own accent. Interestingly enough, there were certain words that did it for all of them. Although I can't remember any of them right now. But enough about accents, how was the production?

It was okay. Overall, I got the Spine. I understood what they were trying to say. But I didn't agree with the way they said it. I had two major problems with the production: The Director did not use the space to its fullest potential and everything the actors said was the most important thing (which led to a lot of shouting.)

In two of the three productions I've seen here, I've mentioned that the Directors have not made full use of the stage. I am beginning to wonder if this is a difference between the US (or at least my training) and the UK. The first ten to fifteen minutes of this play took place around a table. The two brothers are in their father's house. He is dead in the bed UR. Earl is sitting at the table SL and Ray is standing at the table SR. Earl smokes a cigarette in this time. Other than that, nothing happens. Ray barely moves, except the occassional shifting of weight and touching a socket wrench only after they've discussed the tools for a couple of minutes. Maybe this bothered me because I was sitting far House Left and could not see Ray's face at all for the entire opening scene. Or maybe it bothered me because it was just plain boring. Most of this opening is Exposition, so please do something to make it a little more active! Why not give Ray a prop or have Earl need to get up for a light? This was most obvious in the opening section, but continued throughout the production- long moments of stagnation and exposition.

My other problem was mostly a problem with Earl and Ray, although Henry succumbed to it a few times. Everything they said was SO IMPORTANT. This showed itself in two ways. Either they spoke the line very slowly and pointedly or they shouted it to the heavens. And I do mean this happened on 90% of their lines. Everything was so dramatic. The shouting just escalated and escalated. How many times have my teachers said to me, "There's more than one way to express anger." Yes, these characters were angry, but that was just the beginning. I don't know if the actors just couldn't go deeper or if they really thought this was all it was. Either way, I feel like the Director should have taken steps to limit the shouting and overdramatising. There is the possibility that most of the lines are written in all CAPS. I don't own this play, so I haven't been able to check on that. But even so, sometimes things are written in all CAPS for reasons other than the playwright wanting you to shout them.

In conclusion (this does sound like a paper, doesn't it?) despite the fact that I've focused on what I didn't like, I did enjoy myself. Jason Watkins, Taxi, was electrically funny and well-rounded. Trevor Cooper as Henry was convincing as the destroyed man who hasn't really lived in years. And the story is worth seeing.

For those of you who made it to the end- thank you for reading!

John watches football

Hola, esta Juan.

The football match was great. The stadium is in the middle of a neighborhood. All of the row homes had tents setup outside selling food, arsenal colors, etc. It felt more like a college or university stadium than pro sports. This is actually the last year they play at this stadium - after 96 years it will be torn down for more housing. Don't worry kids, they're almost finished with the new stadium just across the street.

We were in a VIP box, so I still haven't had a the experience of being in the middle of all the fans. The VIP box was nice - we had a 3 course meal before the match and they had rugby on the TV inside. You can bet on just about anything too - The first goal will kicked with the left foot is an example. I didn't place any bets - I should have, I would have won. I was going to bet that the game would end in a draw - which it did.

The other people in the box were various businessmen. One guy kept going on and on about his local team - it would be like yammering about the Brooklyn Cylcones at a Met's game. Another guy was just like David Brent from the BBC's The Office. He told us that he was asked to play semi-pro when he was younger but turned it down. Only after did he find out he was being recruited for a Chelsea feeder team. I'm not sure if I believe him.

So the game? Watching it live is a lot better than on the TV. The fans are as passionate (or crazy) as they are made out to be. They have songs for everything. The away team fans are isolated in their own section, surrounded by cops and ushers to prevent fights. They taunt each other over the aisle. Very entertaining. The taunts are all songs. Apparently a song is the worst thing ever - you have to sing the last song or you have been defeated. I think we all could learn a little something from that - songs, not violence are the answer. Until it degenerates into screaming profanities and fisticuffs.

Jamie and I went grocery shopping a la Nick Cage in Las Vegas - hey, we needed to stock the bar! Senior Tequila anyone? It has a sombrero for a bottle cap.

After dinner at home we went out to a couple different bars. I think we have two strong options now. One is more clubby, the other is more rock and roll.

I'm not feeling very funny today. Oh - I had one sheer moment of horror at the football match.
These two kids were passing a soccer ball back and forth on the street. It got away from one of them and started coming straight at me. I froze. These kids are a gazillion times better at ball control than I am. Crap, I need to pass it back to them. What if it goes wide and I look like an ass? Oh crap. Saved by some lady who casually flicked it back to them.

Break time is over - back to hanging pictures. By the by, the walls here are made of very very strong wood. Some of the walls are impenetrable by the tools of Man, or at least John. I think they are made of some NASA composite used on the Mars Rovers.

One Month

Can you believe it? Yesterday was our One-Month Anniversary in London! Of course, it didn't really occur to me, but John was on top of it. He came home from work with a bottle of Champagne and Weight Watchers Chocolate Brownies! Is he not the best ever?

Yesterday was another day of great progress with the flat. It should be in tip-top shape by the time Flo arrives on Thursday morning. As long as our last-minute purchases come on time and have all their parts.

Tonight we are renting "Green Streets" from Blockbuster because John has been told he has to watch it before his first soccer game, which is tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow night we will continue our search for our place. And Sunday will be the day for hanging things on the walls. Gee- this isn't a very exciting entry, is it? Oh well- they can't all be fun and witty!

Have a great day!

Quick Update

I thought I'd write a quick update for those of you who check in regularly and are wondering how I'm doing in our flat surrounded by piles and piles and more piles of our stuff. Well, after John let me out of the van, I set to the task of putting things away. As you must have deduced, I was extremely overwhelmed on Monday but lucky for me my Director side kicked in. I have made huge progress in the last three days and am happy to tell you that more things are in their place than not! This flat is actually beginning to look like a home. Which is good, because I have exactly one week and 15 hours before our first visitor arrives. Oh yes- I'm counting the hours!

In other news: I'll be going to a matinee on Saturday while John is watching soccer. I don't normally like to go to theatre alone but it's too cold to wander around London and the museums are always packed on Saturdays. So, it's theatre or shopping and let's face it- I'm going to be doing enough shopping next week with Flo. Besides, I've been waiting to see The Late Henry Moss by Sam Shepard for weeks now!

Oh- by the way- I apologize to those of you who have tried to comment and couldn't because you did not have an account. I was not aware that I had set it up that way, but rest assured I have fixed it! So, now anyone can comment. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

That's it from my end. Hope you're all doing well. Bye for now.

Could you just die from the suspense?

It's John. Since Jamie hasn't updated the blog in time I am making her wait outside in the truck until this is ready.

Our stuff is here. In fact, the majority of our stuff is here. Anyone need a lamp that only works in the US? You have to come pick it up :)

Apparently the labels did nothing. At least our cats weren't packed.

Friday afternoon the container finally showed. They didn't have enough time to unpack Friday so I came home to boxes and boxes and some more boxes. AND THE BED. They unpacked that and the sofa. Unfortunately, they too were outside.

Just kidding. They came back on Monday to unpack all of the boxes and to strew our crap all over the place. Jamie is making great progress in reducing the piles. I get to use our power tools. I have constructed one shoe rack in 24 hours. Later, I get to hang curtain rods - Didly swoots in British.

SO WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE PICTURES MAN??!

We did something awesome Saturday. We participated in the Waitangi Day pub crawl.
What's Waitangi day? Well, It's the anniversary of New Zealand's Independence - actually, termination of their lease like Hong Kong - from the British. You are supposed to start at the Paddington Tube stop on the Circle Line and make your way to Westminster Lawn by 4 PM - take the Circle Line. http://www.tfl.gov.uk for maps and information.
We cheated and started at Nottinghill Gate, 3 stops closer than Paddington. Cheat is too strong of a word- we wanted to be able to see.

So, the second picture is what the tube was like - BTW - No holding on, no sitting. In fact, you needed to stand on the seats if possible. Go Jamie! They closed down two stations we needed - one when were on the tube.

The object was to visit the closest pub to the tube stop, have a pint, move on.
Well, since every Kiwi in London and their friends were participating we didn't get into most of the pubs. Don't fret friends, we still had our pints - Here in the UK you can drink on the sidewalk. So we went to the Offie - (Off-License Shop-read Bodega or Deli) bought some beer and hung out outside on the street with the other hundreds of revelers.

Why get to Westminster by 4? Well, all the Kiwis perform the Hukka (sp?) at 4 PM on Westminster lawn, in view of "Look Kids-Big Ben, Parliment". The Hukka is the traditional native war dance that is designed to terrify the enemy. It must have worked since the British signed a lease as opposed to killing the tribespeople. However, as the 3rd picture attests, drunk fat white guys aren't that scary unless they are topless.

The first picture is the aftermath on the lawn. I carefully constructed a tribute to the fallen beers who gave their lives in pure sacrifice.

Oh, I climbed the fence at Westminster Abbey. That was fun.

Later we made our way to China Town, ate at Crispy Duck again, and then progressed to The Imperial Pub near my office (2 streets over) After officially drinking for 12 hours, we went home.

Sunday we sat on the couch and watched TV all day, ordered "Spicey Crunchy Chicken Wings" from Pizza Hut and watched the first half of the Superbowl. Suck it Brett.

The Superbowl is much different here. A) Dumb ass commentators. Surprisingly, some old rugby star had the best insights. We had the regular guys during the game, but when you got your cool commercials "MAGIC FRIDGE!!" We got dumb ass commentating. And adverts for DSL and RBL Team Merchandise.

I went to bed at half time so I missed the record setting run. BTW - happy 27th Conception Mike.

UPCOMING EVENTS: I have been invited to see Arsenal V Bolton in O2's Corporate Box. I better get up to speed on football... It is this Saturday at 3 PM.

See ya folks, off to hang the curtain rods for our Didly Swoot Pants.

Quick Moving Update

For those of you who are just arriving to work and can't wait to find out how my experience with the movers went this morning, here's a quick update: IT WENT NOWHERE!!! Our ocean shipment was supposed to arrive at 9AM today. I woke up early, vaccumed and cleared plenty of space for them to be able to move around easily. The movers arrived shortly after 9 and asked to see the flat prior to the arrival of the container. I walked them through- explaining where things would go. At 10:30 (yes, my friends, an hour and a half after I was told our things would arrive) I received a call from the Movers' Office saying the container had been held up and would not arrive until 3PM!!! Okay- I was pissed off- I will not deny it. But worse than making me rearrange my day is what they did to the workers. They are making them wait outside in their truck until the shipment arrives. They have been outside going on 6 hours now! I really wanted to let them wait in the flat, but I just don't think I should invite three men into my apartment to hang out for 6 hours. So, I went to the gym, read the paper, had lunch and checked my email. Now I wait. Cross your fingers, folks- they have twenty minutes!

Much-Needed Good News

I was in desperate need of some good news today. Yesterday I went to The Theatre Museum in Covent Garden. It is a branch of The Victoria & Albert Museum and like the V&A it was free - hooray for federal funding! I wondered why my theatre class hadn't visited it when we were here in 2002 but decided it must not have been open then. I was expecting great things: costumes, scripts, design sketches, white card models, photographs, etc. Instead- I got a very small exhibit on The Building of The West End which was interesting, but didn't scratch the surface of what I had been expecting. There were also workshops downstairs for school groups, but I didn't attend those. I believe they are expanding their current space and that may be responsible for my disappointment. Since I am completely and utterly excited by the idea of a Theatre Museum, I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt and check in on them periodically to see if their collection has improved. I will keep you posted.

Yesterday was a bad day for reasons other than the Museum and I was not loving life in London when I dragged myself out of bed this morning.

So, as I said I was in need of good news today. And, surprisingly, I got it. The movers called to let me know our Ocean Shipment will be arriving tomorrow morning at 9AM. John can't be there, because he needs to be at work- so I will be alone to deal with whatever does or does not make it across the ocean. Say a prayer for the movers!

The other piece of good news is that we can watch the Super Bowl at home! Apparently the little digital box we bought gives us the channel that is showing the game. We are thrilled about this because we didn't want to watch the game with a bunch of strangers. If we can't be with our friends, we'd rather be alone and drinking as though we were with our friends! So, we are ordering wings from Pizza Hut (the only place around here that delivers them) and drinking beer while we watch the game that starts at 11:30 here. Carla and Dave, we are holding up our end of the deal- I hope you hold up yours!

A final note- we realized today that our answering machine deletes messages. If you talk longer than it wants you to, it cuts you off and deletes your message. The movers informed me that they had left a message yesterday and it happened to my mom today. So, if you have called and left a message and were wondering why we hadn't called back, now you know. We will be replacing said piece of crap machine tomorrow.

That's all from here. I'll drop in tomorrow to let you know how the move-in goes. Hope you and your families are all well.