My New House

I've finally gotten word this morning that all systems are go for me to move into a new flat in two and a half weeks time!

So first some background, Mark and I have looked at approximately 15 flats, basically all of them uninhabitable, at least for our purposes. Our own flat was let while I was in Seattle, so that basically means the option of staying any extra time is out the window. Last Tuesday night, despite a series of near misses that could have derailed the whole thing, we got lucky and were the first ones to see a place that had come on the market that day. It was the best thing we'd seen: nice location, very pretty little kitchen, pretty little bathroom, nice light, and not even on the ground floor. We bit the bullet and put in an offer. As it was late in the day, the offer didn't get called in until the next morning, while other people were in the process of viewing the flat. We're tricky like that.

Knowing that it was very reasonably priced (especially considering what else we'd seen asking for the same amount), we put in our offer at the asking price. NOTE: in the UK people put in offers on rent much like you would on a house. Basically, we weren't willing to risk putting in an offer that anyone else could beat. So we were extremely relieved to find out later that day (Wednesday) that our offer had been accepted, and Mark was on top of things and put down the holding fee. We then had 24 hours to fill out the application forms, which we promptly slid under the estate agent's door Thursday morning. I might add that the estate agent is essentially located next door to us. Alas, Mark's references all came back safe and sound on Tuesday, but mine dilly-dallied until today. But finally, we received the all clear that the place would be ours on June 16th. We have to be out of our current place on the 18th, so we've got a Monday, Tuesday, and a Wednesday to move our stuff from one place to the other and leave the old one in at least decent condition, making sure we don't forget our curtains.

So where are we moving? Although it may sound a bit boring, our new flat is located about a 5 minute walk from our current one, on a street called Radipole Road. Google Earth tells me we will be exactly the same distance from the tube, but closer to the local bus stops. Farther from Tesco, but just a little bit closer to Fulham Broadway. Closer to the dry cleaner, but farther from a pub.

It's again a one bedroom place, but considerably smaller than our current one, thanks to the 'study' we now enjoy. We are very happy to exchange this extra space for the extreme niceness of the new place and the (from our 30 second glimpse) quality of the finishing. Plus, instead of a futon there's an actual couch. Well, it's a loveseat actually, but still, I'm not expecting to fear it breaking every time I sit down. There will also be plenty of room for dancing around playing wii, and as it's up one floor from street level, people walking by can't laugh at us! There's of course still room for any guests that find themselves passing through town! Oh, and I'll take pictures as soon as I get the keys!

Happy Birthday, Mark

Mark's birthday was actually on Monday, so blog greetings are a little belated. But he should have known they were coming. However, it does provide an easy segue into my topic for the day that also happened to be his primary birthday present (from his parents, not from me, I'm not that generous): a wii. That's right, I now live in a wii house. People walking by on the street can now look in and catch sight of people flailing their arms about like mad people and this doesn't bother me in the slightest.

So I had witnessed a wii being played in my presence before, but had never actually touched the thing until faced with a series of duals against Mark on Saturday. For some reason he was not entirely impressed with inability to hit a tennis ball, my inability to his a baseball, and my inability to get a golf ball anywhere near the hole. And well, anyone can bowl on the wii. Luckily, instead of discouraging me completely and me never going near the thing again, I opted to 'practice' all of these skills and therefore spent a sizable portion of Sunday doing just that. And while I have since then improved, and discovered that boxing can provide some good cardio, I still have a long way to go. And I'm still worthless at baseball (despite repeated attempts, my skill level is still 0).

Of particular interest to me in regard to the wii is that for a small fee (no idea what it is in the US, but it was £3.50 or so in these parts) you can download original nintendo games and play them on your wii. Backtracking on that, you can hook your wii up to your wireless network and look at the internet as well. So Mark has downloaded the original Super Mario Brothers in its true original form. You just turn the wii remote sideways and it's like the handset of old. You even get the same sore thumb as you did back in the day. I haven't had a look at all the old games on offer, but if Paperboy is available I might be tempted. Oh, and I'm already tempted to get Super Mario Bros 2 and 3!

We (and by 'we' I mean Mark has ordered, but I will feel free to use) have also ordered a wii fit that is set to arrive later this week, so we'll see how that goes!

Side note: I've got tickets to go see the Sex and the City movie tonight! No one knows why it's being released here before the US, but I'm not going to argue!

Eurovision 2008

Saturday night marked the annual procession of European nations across a brightly lit stage accompanied by outrageous costumes and some really bad tunes. This even is also sometimes referred to as Eurovision. It's like the most popular thing ever, although nobody likes to admit they're a fan. It's a song contest that has seemingly very little to do with artistic integrity. It's a mixing of European nations, but includes Israel and Armenia, which in my mind would not fall under the classification of 'European'.

Anyways, it was my first Eurovision viewing. A total of 43 countries entered the competition, including such big names as San Marino, Andorra, Azerbaijan and France. Not including: Italy. To get it down to 25 songs for the big night, there were two semi-finals last week where 38 of those countries had to battle it out for spots. Five countries are given automatic passageway into the final - the UK, Germany, France and Spain (I think at least...) for basically bankrolling the whole thing and Serbia for having won in last year. The show was in Belgrade, again as Serbia won it last year, in Europe's largest basketball arena. I'm not sure if this is saying much, however, as I don't think the basketball love has made it past more than a few European countries. Now on to the show...

It opened with a performance by last year's gender bending winner, featuring half-man half-woman costumes for the back-up dancers. There were two cheesy hosts who had at least decent grasps of English, the woman staying in tune with the latest hostess trends of wearing a different dress every time she came on stage. The UK broadcast had a BBC radio dj providing additional sassy commentary. The show then proceeded with relative little delay through the 25 performances, this in all taking slightly over two hours. To drag things out for as long as possible, all 43 entering countries get to vote. And they each have a person available via satellite to reveal the results of each country's votes. Needless to say, this took an additional hour, but the trends were clearly established well before this, and everyone knew who the winner would be by the time we got to country 30 or so.

So here is how Eurovision voting works: you can't vote for your own country, but you can vote for all your neighboring countries and they can all vote for you. People call in their votes, and each country tallies up their totals. First place gets 12 points, 2nd place 10 points, 3rd 8 points, and then 4th - 10th or so get one less point depending on their order, from 7 points to 6 points. Or maybe its 4th - 9th get 6 points down to 1. I'm not sure, but it doesn't really matter. What does matter is that each country give points to a lot of other countries. Eurovision voting is politically controversial - everyone complains that the former Soviet countries all vote for each other, the Baltic countries all vote for each other, the Scandinavian countries all vote for each other and nobody votes for the UK, no matter what. Except for Ireland and for some reason Malta.

Cutting to the chase, Russia won. Their entry was produced by Timbaland. How they tricked him into producing a Eurovision song is beyond me, but they did. It involved some skinny guy dressed all in white singing in English who ripped his shirt open during some sort of over-powering emotion, and near the end a male figure skater came out and started twirling about in pretty little circles. This was done in a much more masculine way than I'm sure comes across. Terry Wogan, the UK commentator, was of course aghast and think the whole thing should be boy-cotted by the western European countries that pay for it but are basically guaranteed never to win no matter how good their entry. But quite frankly, Terry, I think we all saw that coming.

Other things to note: the Bosnia and Herze, um, yeah that country, their entry included a clothesline and 4 back up singers dressed as old-fashioned brides, ranging in age from about 20 to 60. The French entrant controversially sang in English and made his entry on stage in a golf cart. Ireland's entry sung by a turkey puppet did not make it past the semi-final. Abba won Eurovision back in the 1970s with Waterloo. We also apparently have Eurovision to blame for that whole Riverdance thing - Michael whatshisface and a woman danced their little dance in an Ireland entry circa the dawn of time and they've been big ever since. The UK last won in 1997, but nobody remembers how they were able to do it. I'm certainly not putting any money on them for next year.

Paris - Part 6

For our last complete day in Paris, we headed en masse to Versailles. This involved taking the metro to a suburban rail station, where we waited in a line consisting mainly of American tourists that made me feel ashamed to be American and a tourist, in order to get cheaper tickets and allegedly skip out on some line time. Upon arrival at Versailles, we were indeed able to skip the shorter ticket line to wait in the much, much, much longer line to get into the actual palace.

The palace at Versailles is by all means a very impressive piles of bricks enriched by a colorful social and political history. I can bore you for hours (or at least 15 minutes) with some of the tales of what has gone on with it, but alas, I shall temporarily refrain. Let's just stick to the facts and say that it was very pretty so long as you were looking up, as otherwise you were confronted with the heads of way too many people aimlessly wandering in packs, aka, Japanese tour groups. They should be banned. We quickly lost the parents in the melee of little Japanese person dodging, doing our best to get in as many pictures as possible (I waved at a video camera), but caught sight of them just enough to think we were at least on the same track. While lacking the bling of hall of mirrors area, I personally quite enjoyed the dauphin's apartments on the ground floor and the neighboring apartments for King Louis XVs many daughters. They were very nice and fancier than anything I'll ever reside in, but seemed much more livable and therefore approachable and understandable that the stuff above. Plus the Japanese tour groups seemed to skip this area so the crowds were light. Although come to think of it, we did actually hush some loud Japanese men who kept walking around talking loudly in that 'it's in another language so other people must not be able to hear me' sort of way...

Anyways! We eventually all headed out to the gardens, which really bring a whole new level to the concept of big. Take a minute to look at them on Google Earth. Otherwise the sheer scale is hard to get across. It was a very, very beautiful day and we got some baguettes to eat in what seemed like it could have been a bit of a maze, then wandered out towards the two Trianons, passing by what for some reason is termed a canal, where Mark got irreversibly excited about the possibility of taking out a rowboat. The wee Trianon was getting a facelift so was sadly closed, but we took a nice spin of the uber Trianon before wandering out to see Marie Antoinette's Disney-inspiring village. It was tres tranquil (and what a relief that the Japanese tour groups didn't go there either, wouldn't have totally squashed the peaceful vibe!). After our rehydration/ice cream break, we gave in to temptation and rented one of the little rowboats for half an hour, where we learned that on like their second date Kathy rowed Brian around while wearing a striped top with her hair braided. I thought you would all want to know that.

After seeing all that could be seen, we headed back into town and eventually ended up at what was termed a Mediterranean restaurant that was very, very delicious. The next morning, the folks headed off, Mark and I had a nice little breakfast at our local cafe, and then it was my turn to head off for the airport. FYI, Charles de Gaulle is a horrible airport. Anyway, that wraps up my Parisian times. While I could dwell for a few days on the little idioms of Parisian and Parisian tourist culture, so much has been going on in England these days that it's time to get back to normal!

Paris - Part EURODISNEY

So on our Monday in Paris, Mark and I dismissed the judgement of others and hopped on a train to eurodisney, no wait, ahem, Disneyland Paris. After a little train and a big train, we pulled up to the station conveniently located in the middle of the Disney parks. There are two parks there, the Disneyland one and a, um, movie studio one. There's also an entertainment area with no admission charge featuring a movie theater and several restaurants. But we were like, whatever alternative entertainment venues and made a beeline for Disneyland. After an extended period of time spent buying or tickets, delayed by me initially getting an excellent student deal and then Mark getting his ticket changed to reflect his own student-ness, we headed into the park.

The thing I found most intriguing about eurodisney was that it had a very confused sense of identity. It was torn between being French and American, and most of the time it seemed to be quite American. 'Thunder mountain railroad' and 'pirates of the caribbean' have a certain English language ring to them. When you walk in, you are on 'main street USA', where we got chocolate brioches shaped like Mickey Mouse's head for breakfast. No Mickey pancake, but better than a stick in the eye.

I'll cut straight to the chase instead of dwelling on details. Most everything there was very similar to regular Disneyland. There was an Adventureland, Frontier land, Fantasy land, and something to do with the future. There was no New Orleans thing, and the haunted house was renamed 'Phantom Manor'. There was no Splash Mountain, no Matterhorn (despite being the country where the actual mountain is!), no Jungle Cruise, no Tiki Room (although that's no loss, really). The haunted house was the same, Indiana Jones was horribly painful and transformed into an upside down roller coaster, as was space mountain. Pirates of the Caribbean wasn't quite right. Thunder mountain railroad was by far the best ride, and as a reflection of this status we went on it 3 times. We had lunch at a Mexican place, having 'taco' salads which were not really taco salads but in one of those taco shell bowls.

In our spare time between rides, we frequented those lovely little themed shops and consumed liquids. For months Mark had been going on about his obsession with getting a goofy hat. It was fine by me, but alas, it was not on Disneyland's mine to outfit him with such. All day we searched for a goofy hat, in all kinds of stores in all kinds of lands. Finally near the end of the afternoon, before our last whirl on thunder mountain, we found a giant leprechaun style goofy hat. However, the initial excitement ended abruptly when we discovered the hat didn't fit Mark's head. Our later discovery of a headband with little goofy ears didn't quite fit the bill. Alas, Mark left the park goofy hatless. And sadly, without minnie mouse ears.

As part of our extra special student tickets, we had access to both parks. So when we were Disneylanded out we headed over to the other park basically just to go on their highly advertised new ride, the Tower of Terror (as found in California adventure and at Disney World). Again slightly torn between being French and American, but I guess there's only so much you can do. We quite enjoyed the ride, but that certainly didn't mean we were going to go on it again. You really do end up going quite high! Anyways, we quickly walked around the rest of the park but the only ride we seriously considered going on had a 40 minute wait, which we deemed 'not quite worth it', and opted to head back into town.

Being the cool locals that we were, we headed back to the uber fancy grocery store where we purchased additional meats and cheeses on which we dined. This was followed by more viewing of the same random MTV channel and continued confusion over what exactly French people see in French music. Off to bed at an early hour, we had to be up bright and early for the big trip to Versailles!

Paris - Part 4

It's starting to feel like ages since I've been in Paris, so it's really a small miracle that I'm able to keep these days straight! So let's see, part 4 would be the fourth day which was the Sunday. Got it.

The parents tried out their 'let's ditch Margo' scheme again by claiming to be going to Giverny. This meant Mark and I were again left to fend for ourselves. After drying our tears, we wandered over to the Pantheon to look at the tombs of famous dead French men and the token famous dead French woman, Marie Curie, who was Polish or something anyways but that's not the point. The building was even more impressive and such on the inside than it was on the outside. The main feature of the main floor area (well, I shouldn't say main, there was art everywhere, but this bit was hard to miss) was one of the pendulum clock things that somehow tells you what time it is by just incessantly swinging on a string attached to the ceiling. There's one in the physics building at UW. Only this one seemed more out of place. Anyways, all of the tombs were in the basement, aka 'crypt'. The 'tales' of the 'crypt', aka the biographies of the dead people, were all in French but I like to think I was able to scrap together my knowledge to figure out what much of them were about. To all of those aspiring alive French people out there, fear not, there's plenty of room for you, too.

Our Sunday lunch was huge. Not in size (well, it was quite large), but in importance. We were going to Crepes a Go Go for some crepes. We hadn't had crepes yet, and no trip to France, in my mind, is complete without them. For my main course, I chose a potato with some herbs and creme fraiche option. It was fabulous. Mark had a complete thing with eggs, ham and cheese. For our shared dessert, we had a banana, chocolate and vanilla ice cream concoction that was amazingly delicious. After our fine dining venture, we waddled down to the river to search for river cruise options. We were quite lucky and stumbled upon a decently priced one hour cruise on a nice mid-sized boat with roof-top seating. Giving the pleasantness of the day, it was all very ideal and quite good fun. Now, to be honest, I can't really remember what we did after this. I think there was some meandering around the Notre Dame area, as that is where the boat had left from. Oh yes, we went and sat in the Luxembourg gardens on a shaded bench for a short bit before heading back to meet the parents.

We went out for a slightly early dinner to our corner cafe, where three of us ordered omelette completes. I'm not sure about the others, but a big factor in my decision was the fact that I felt I could pronounce the word complete. We then headed out for our big adventure to the Eiffel Tower. It was a bit of a trek, but we got there eventually. Well, that was a dull sentence. My apologies. Anyways, there was again a long line involved, then we waited in some more lines to get to the top. The line waiting was taken very seriously by some, as can be seen in the above photo. There was a very nice view to be had and many pictures to be taken. So that is what we did. We then slowly worked our way down as it was getting progressively darker, attempting to be arty in our camera work at all possible moments. There was an apparently amazing light show on the hour every hour starting at 10pm, so we hurried to get down and to a decent viewing post by this time. While waiting, a very bad salesmen attempted to sell me a dead rose by sticking it in my face even after they were told no and to go away several times. So then there was a wild bit of sparkly business on the tower, and we kept waiting for something else before eventually realized it was just a bit of sparkly business for the entire show. I played a bit with my fireworks setting however, and got some intriguing shots.

After the show, we stopped by a neighboring cafe for a bit of a night cap. Brian won by getting a good dessert. I had lemonade. You get thirsty so easily walking around on hot sunny days! Tune in tomorrow for the pen-ultimate highlight of the trip: EURODISNEY!!!

Paris - Part 3

Our third day in Paris was a warm, sunny Saturday. We transitioned as a unit from the apartment up to see Sacre Coeur, where we were greeted again by masses of tourists. Taking pictures out front wasn't bad, but we then decided to take a spin inside. Much like at Notre Dame, we managed to be inside right as a service was going to start. This basically meant we hit a dead end, and as people kept coming inside, there wasn't really any way to get back out again. We had to shuffle for what seemed like 20 minutes before we were able to get back out again. If you want to visit the place, I recommend maybe sticking your head in and then clearing well away. Like, really far away. Which I guess is what we eventually did, walking down to get a glimpse of the Moulin Rouge and the red light district (how is there enough demand to keep all those shops in business??).

After yet again walking miles without coming to an eating establishment and then finding ourselves faced with about 10, we had lunch at a cafe in the shade before splitting up into groups by gender. The men went off to pursue traditionally manly things, such as walk through sewers. Us lady types attempted to go off and look at pretty clothes. Alas, our plans came to a sudden standstill when we learned that the pretty clothes museum (note: not actual name) was indeed closed. So instead we had diet cokes, went to a book store, listened to street musicians and I got myself a Paris Starbucks mug for the collection. We then met up with the fresh from the poo males before disbanding into separate age groups. The mature group hit the Musee l'Orangerie whilst we youngsters sat on some grass and then headed back to the local hood in hot pursuit of some chilled alcoholic beverages. Later a pleasant and attractive couple of similar age to ourselves came and sat next to us, and they can be seen in the photo above.

For the evening meal, we took advantage of the having of the apartment and ate in. Having enjoyed the concept in my previous French travels, we had a range of cured meats and cheeses with bread for dinner, as well as some wine. This was followed by enjoying hours of a satellite French MTV channel that fluctuated between the hits from 1979 and songs sung by whispery French types. It's oddly entertaining. I recommend.

Paris - Part 2

First off, my apologies for the gap in my Paris coverage. I'll try and improve on it and churn them out this week. Sort of like butter. Anyways, day 2 in Paris was a Friday and the parents decided to grace us with their presence. We walked over to the Musee d'Orsay, which was and had been at the top of my 'to see' list in Paris for months. Much like the previous day at Notre Dame, there was an unnaturally long and snaking line out front. We joined said line and took turns teasing Mark for having seemingly cut an artery in nose while shaving that morning, who was at this time sporting a happening nose band-aid with a nice chunk of bendy foam stuff underneath. Some say it's the look for summer, I agree.

I really enjoyed Musee d'Orsay. The building was very cool, and they have what I'm assuming is the world's premiere collection of impressionist art. However, for some reason they cluster it all together on the top floor, which is rather hard to get to and very cramped with people once you manage. The ground floor, on the other hand, is much larger and was less dense in world-famous art. But overall, I give it 4 stars. Very good.

We all hit a cafe down the road for lunch, dining on fine baguette sandwiches and things in the croque family, before splitting up for the afternoon. The parental types went to the Rodin museum, trying to convince us that it was worth waiting in the world's 3 longest line (behind Notre Dame and Musee d'Orsay) to pay €1 to see the garden. We said 'non' and went to see Napoleon's tomb. I must say, Napoleon certainly thought highly of himself to arrange such a splendid place. Although that said, I'm not really sure what roll he played in this post-mortem homage to his little greatness. By looking at the walls in the place, you would maybe think that he had been an ancient Roman emperor instead of a wee little man from the 19th century. After seeing the tomb, we tried sitting on the grass but got kicked off, went and got some magnums, looked at some stuff in the military museum (as it was included in the ticket) and then went out the other side where people were allowed to sit on the grass. It was a warm, sunny afternoon, and sitting on grass was an enjoyable way to spend a bit of time.

The Louvre is open late on Wednesdays and Fridays, and has reduced entrance fees after 6 pm, including free admission for those 26 (yay for me!) and under. Oh, so yeah, we met the folks there at a quarter to 6 for just that much more museum times. After joining the masses to see the Venus de Milo and wondering just where exactly everyone was able to procure their maps, we again split up into over- and under-50 groups with the intention to meet up in a few hours. Being so late in a museum intestive day, the going through the Louvre was a bit tough. I hit the painting section and strolled through what was seemingly the world's longest hallway. Amongst those present in this hall was the one seen here. Personally, I was slightly taken aback to see an Italian Renaissance painting featuring what appears to be a young Jesus on a space ship, keen on maiming the woman shielding herself below. I did not bother to read the caption, I just thought it might ruin it.

As it seems we had acquired a knack for doing so, we managed to walk a route back from the Louvre that involved passing no acceptable dining establishments until we were within a block of our little apartment. While not intentional, we ended up at another Italian establishment where I ate more pizza. A guitar player was present who jazzed up the place, while one of the waiters seemingly enjoyed singing along. It was something!

Paris - Part 1

Let's just start by saying that I had a horrible journey down to Paris. This flying business is no deal - we were nearly two hours late, resulting in my taking the metro across Paris all by myself after midnight. While getting a seat was not an issue, fear of the trains stopping while I was far from my destination was certainly a concern.

So Thursday was my first day there. The folks were allegedly going to Giverny, although it was later revealed that was just a clever front so they wouldn't have to hang out with us 'kids'. Alas, Mark and I were left to roam the streets by ourselves, hot tears streaming down our cheeks. As so many of things were closed as they regard May 1 as some sort of holiday (I just think they didn't want to go to work), we really did do a lot of roaming. We roamed through the Luxembourg gardens, then headed towards Notre Dame via the Panthenon. Or is it the Parthenon? The place with famous dead French people inside.

Notre Dame, to put it mildly, was a crazy circus of rapid wild animals. To quote Cher from Clueless, it's like, way famous. And as it was open, it was an obvious place for everyone to go, present company included. There was much chaos and confusion to be had, so after posing for the requisite pictures and being handed a note by a woman who had 10 children somewhere and wanted money to feed them (the first of about 30, I'm not a fan of this approach to asking for money), we headed a little closer to try and figure out what the deal was with the line. It was approximately 3 miles long and snaked every which way. I made Mark get in anyways, and about 15 minutes later we made it inside. Once within the halls of the ancient cathedral, we were herded and poked like cattle as a mass was getting underway and the smoking ball man needed a clear path. Let's just say it was very nice, but there were too many people!

Post cathedral, we continued our roam across the rest of the river, past the Hotel de Ville, through a few animaleries to look at the cute puppies and kittens, and then on to the Louvre. While closed, this did not prevent us taking pictures of the outside. The sporadic rain showers then encouraged us to eat inside. After much stress and confusion, we had delicious sandwiches before continuing on our way. We made a brief stop to mispronounce Madeleine/buy Madeleine and then went back into the Tuileries and up the Champs Elysees. The road was packed with people despite the stores being closed, but then I realized that under most circumstances the stores would be holding onto a lot of these people, reducing sidewalk congestion, so then it made a bit of sense to me.

The Arc de Triumphe is conveniently located in the middle of a 12-armed roundabout, thus allowing you to practice your shuffle as you take the pedestrian underpass. My shuffle was a little rusty, so I was thankful for the chance. Now the arc proved a very handy place to be for the next rain shower, providing fine arc-like cover. Thanks, arc. Tired off walking, we then searched desperately for an open cafe on the way back to the apartment so we could sit outside, pretend to be Parisian and drink some wine. The one we finally stumbled upon was approximately 15 feet from the apartment, so that was somewhat convenient. To accompany our bottle of red, we got a sausage plate. Which was all in all not a bad way to spend the late afternoon.

When the folks finally decided to grace us again with their presence, we roamed some more streets looking for a place to eat dinner. We finally ended up a cute little Italian restaurant where I consumed yummy pizza. I just can't recall exactly what was on it. While there, we learned that cool French people don't head out for dinner until approximately 9:30 and then wait ages for a table, but if you show up for dinner at 7:30 you'll be shown to a table right away.

Coco's Wedding

The primary reason for my long detour to Seattle (along with general visiting and stocking up of supplies from the mainland) was to attend Coco's wedding. I arrived in Seattle last Wednesday evening and casually strolled out of the airport with my carry-on while everyone else crossed their fingers that their suitcase made it through. Proceeding into downtown a la bus, I was miraculously able to meet up with Kari and Coco at Fado. I was slightly taken aback at the price of beer, but that might have just been because I'm accustomed to happy hour prices. Note to London: have more happy hours.

On Thursday and Friday (through early afternoon) I ran around town doing some shopping, visited Kelly's bakery and enjoyed a delicious rhubarb almond muffin cake situation, wondered why there were no simple black work pumps available for sale, ate Mexican food for lunch, and got my haircut. This was all well and good. I was pleased to be able to talk to people without worry of them discovering my foreign-ness, mainly because I wasn't foreign. The people were all oh-so friendly and nice, nobody pumped into me on the sidewalk, and I felt a) that being friendly to people was a viable option without people thinking I was slightly off and b) that being friendly to people was a good time.

On Friday afternoon, Kari and I headed up to the location of the wedding for the rehearsal. Whilst the others were practicing, I read and checked out the place. The place, being 'The Quarry' was a scenic little oasis in the middle of Skagit County with a big rock face and a whole lot of sculptures. Some of these sculptures were fine, in fact, most were. Only two really disturbed me: the series of bathing suits descending into the water and the rusted mechanism containing naked dancing barbies (we put a shrimp on this the next day at the wedding so there would be shrimp on the barbie). Afterwards we headed down to Everett for the rehearsal dinner, taking a slight detour as we were looking for a non-existent exit. We ate Italian food. I particularly enjoyed my little salad.

The next day we were due back at the Quarry quite early so Kari could prepare with the other bridesmaid. We got there just a little bit late (this place is deceivingly far). Nikki and I tried to stay on the DL until it was time for our assigned setting things on tables tasks while much was aflutter. There was a videographer present who seemed to enjoy following people around when they clearly did not want to be filmed. He is not my friend. Anyways, so we eventually went to set things up, watched Kelly set up the cake and cupcakes, and then settled in for the ceremony. We waited a little while in the seat grabbing and as a result were a bit to the side (as can be seen above).

The reception was a festive affair with chicken and potatoes and other things I've forgotten. I want to say Caesar salad. But truth be told, I was saving a bit of room for cake and cupcakes (while theoretically only enough for everyone to have either/or, our inside baker source told us there was a little extra). The cupcakes had coconut, the cake was lemon. It was a tough battle, but my vote went to the cake. A band played that was very good, but sadly they claimed not to know the song 'Shout'. The overall crowd pleaser turned out to be 'Brown Eyed Girl'. A classic in it's own way but I've heard that Shout is at the top of the heap for weddings these days. In all, the wedding was a good time and the weather seemed to be just holding up, but alas it did so all was well on that front.

On Sunday we did a bit of shopping and enjoyed a fine happy hour with Matador's nachos. I went a little crazy and had two Shirley Temple's. It was then about time to head to the airport, which, alas, was pretty much where yesterday's blog picked up (this backwards thing is somewhat intriguing). Tomorrow I shall get cracking on Paris!

Back from the US...

So after months of anticipation, I have returned from a nearly two week voyage to Paris and Seattle, what I shall term 'the combo of champions'. If anyone else goes on a trip encompassing these two cities I shall send them a prize. Unless you live in Seattle, then it's like cheating.

Anyways, as I like to think I have too many observations to record in a single blog entry, I'm going to have to split things up a bit into more manageable chunks. Plus this will then give me things to write about for the rest of the week. In lieu of being logical and writing of things in chronological order, I'm going to flip that around and start at the other end: my return to London.

For some reason all of the flights I've had to the UK from the US have gotten me into London in the 7am to 10am window, giving me an entire day to walk around with a sleepy glazed over look of which I was never a fan. Why is it that these flights essentially last over the night-time period of your destination when you are most likely acclimated time-wise to your origin? How are people supposed to settle in for the night when they are packed into an airplane and it's 3pm? It's baffling really. So, let me just say that I highly recommend my 9pm departure flight from Seattle on Sunday night, which kindly took place over the night-time period of my origin, landing in London in the early afternoon. After having gotten some decent sleep (actually being tired sure helped) on the plane and suckling on diet coke for the rest of the afternoon, I didn't go to bed until after 10pm. Plus I like to think my glazed look was at a minimum.

Some interesting things happened while I was gone. My apartment has been letted to the next tennants (which is good because that means I won't have people coming by to look at it!), the girl who sits next to me at work quit to become a writer (good luck with that), and summer came and is seemingly on it's way out again. The UK has the only nice weather all year and I miss it. What are the chances? But luckily it's still nice and sunny and I've even worn a summer dress to work today with no nylons. I keep feeling like I've forgotten something!