We just watched the election results come in, pretty moving stuff I have to say. In a week where, everyone I speak to is experiencing redundancies and downsizing it's amazing that there is any hope left in this country. We all watched it intently - everyone was gathering to watch the results together and even the kids were totally into it. (They've been wearing 'Trekies for Obama' buttons for weeks). Twinkle's homework was to color the states on a US map to match the results, and tally up the electoral votes - very creative way to make a 10 year take notice of politics I think.
Needless to say, the results and speeches blew us away. I admit to a tear in my own eye (very unlike me). Lets hope things start to pick up again - it may be getting to be too late for some of us other immigrants - when the work dries up, so do the work permits.
At this point I'd like to repeat that I do think some of the credit should go to Kieffer Sutherland for having a black president in 24. (Totally made people think it was indeed possible).
And Michelle's dress was hideous. (I HAD to get that out, would have sounded soooo shallow if I'd said it loud tonight).
Just looking out for the Sarah P chat show now. (its inevitable).
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
night night
Tonight I fell into a remote-control-tv channel-flicking-induced temporary coma in front of a bad american sit com. So lock-up duty fell to me. (No rolling off the couch and into bed in this household.)
The routine (for me anyway) goes like this:
-clear various cups, glasses and yogurt pots from around the room and deposit in sink/bin
-turn off bathroom light and open shower curtain so that any child who has to get up in the night can see before they enter the bathroom that there are no monsters hiding in the bathtub
-be sure to leave bathroom door open
-check on daughter
-remove half empty water glass from precarious perch on side of bunk bed
-retrieve enormous hardback Harry Potter 5 book from bed
0-untangle the singular duvet clad leg from duvet so that the rest of daughter can be -covered up
-unplug lilac handbag shaped lamp
-check on fish - which means look at fish to see if catfish is nipping at the others (he's completely devoured 8 already, but the tiger barbs seem to be fending him off)
-be sure to leave door 30% ajar
-check on son
-remove empty water glass from precarious perch on side of bunk bed
-retrieve 2 books, ninja pencil, baseball mitt and skip cap from bed
--untangle solitary duvet covered leg and cover up entire child - twice - he always -kicks it right back off again first time
-unplug neon lights plug
-check on peanut the roboski hamster to make sure that a) he is alive b) he is in his cage and not running free around the house - which he frequently manages c) his 'silent running' wheel is sufficiently padded for his 4 hour nocturnal eddie kidd role -playing session ( if its not, the entire family is awake at 3am listening to a rattly -spinning hamster wheel)
-put out light
-close closet door completely
-be sure to leave room door completely ajar
-lock front door
-turn off all 4 room lamps that I turned on 3 hours before
unplug phone charger
-take glass of water upstairs so that the cocktail of inhibitors, supplements, and herbal remedies I have lined up can be taken
-remove throw pillows from 'my side' of the bed (husband can't manage this when he gets in first for some reason).
-turn off closet light
-unplug lamp
-turn off computer
THEN I can get ready for bed.
I don't recall this sort of task list from Little house on the prairie! Charles didn't even put the fire out. He just packed the sprogs off to the giant child bed in the loft then rolled in beside Mrs Walton and her pigtail and big cotton nightie.
Even the Waltons just kissed granma olive and granpa joe and went off to bed shoutin 'gnite John Boy, gnite Elizabeth, gnite Jim Bob ...'
I'm not really complaining. I obviously like to tuck my kids into bed. And its always a delight to marvel at what I find secreted under their little pillows (rocks, sticky tape, pom pom farms) But I do ask "is it just me??"
The routine (for me anyway) goes like this:
-clear various cups, glasses and yogurt pots from around the room and deposit in sink/bin
-turn off bathroom light and open shower curtain so that any child who has to get up in the night can see before they enter the bathroom that there are no monsters hiding in the bathtub
-be sure to leave bathroom door open
-check on daughter
-remove half empty water glass from precarious perch on side of bunk bed
-retrieve enormous hardback Harry Potter 5 book from bed
0-untangle the singular duvet clad leg from duvet so that the rest of daughter can be -covered up
-unplug lilac handbag shaped lamp
-check on fish - which means look at fish to see if catfish is nipping at the others (he's completely devoured 8 already, but the tiger barbs seem to be fending him off)
-be sure to leave door 30% ajar
-check on son
-remove empty water glass from precarious perch on side of bunk bed
-retrieve 2 books, ninja pencil, baseball mitt and skip cap from bed
--untangle solitary duvet covered leg and cover up entire child - twice - he always -kicks it right back off again first time
-unplug neon lights plug
-check on peanut the roboski hamster to make sure that a) he is alive b) he is in his cage and not running free around the house - which he frequently manages c) his 'silent running' wheel is sufficiently padded for his 4 hour nocturnal eddie kidd role -playing session ( if its not, the entire family is awake at 3am listening to a rattly -spinning hamster wheel)
-put out light
-close closet door completely
-be sure to leave room door completely ajar
-lock front door
-turn off all 4 room lamps that I turned on 3 hours before
unplug phone charger
-take glass of water upstairs so that the cocktail of inhibitors, supplements, and herbal remedies I have lined up can be taken
-remove throw pillows from 'my side' of the bed (husband can't manage this when he gets in first for some reason).
-turn off closet light
-unplug lamp
-turn off computer
THEN I can get ready for bed.
I don't recall this sort of task list from Little house on the prairie! Charles didn't even put the fire out. He just packed the sprogs off to the giant child bed in the loft then rolled in beside Mrs Walton and her pigtail and big cotton nightie.
Even the Waltons just kissed granma olive and granpa joe and went off to bed shoutin 'gnite John Boy, gnite Elizabeth, gnite Jim Bob ...'
I'm not really complaining. I obviously like to tuck my kids into bed. And its always a delight to marvel at what I find secreted under their little pillows (rocks, sticky tape, pom pom farms) But I do ask "is it just me??"
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Summers over
Yep, I've been very quiet - for 4 months I'm ashamed to admit.
I can't swear I've been too busy (although I have). Nor that nothing interesting has happened in that time. (Although some of you may argue that nothing interesting ever happens in my blog). I just kinda got busy and summer was here - and I lost the desire to write about stuff.
I can't promise I'm back in the groove now. Who knows? But I decided today to register as a volunteer for non-profits, so thought that might be an interesting little journey I'd like to log personally. So I'm back onboard for the moment.
In the meantime, lest I forget here's what I did this summer.
April, visa renewal application (paperwork hell)
May visa got approved. Tenants finally grudgingly moved out of Rose Cottage
June part #1 returned to Scotland - via the Hamptons where husbands dress sense was publicly deriled by v camp couple in matching pastel shade Bermuda shorts ensemble. (Ironic, I know) Husband handled it very well I have to say.
June part#2. Braced ourselves for the horrible, US embassy experience, packed little survival bags for the anticipated 7 hour ordeal. Were in and out in 45 minutes with approved new 3 year visas (hurrah!). Since the Embassy ban mobile phones, pda's and even key fobs we had nobody's number with us, so couldnt hook up with all the friends we hoped to catch up with. Instead spent the nice day dotting around London in the sunshine, and eating scones in Liberty's while waiting for our plane back up North.
July. Did a mini tour of Scotland with some American friends in tow. Slept in castles, ate in dungeons, laughed at the yanks chasing sheep and taking photos of their dinner. It was fun.
Then got stuck into the DIY proper in big panic for selling the house. Tenants smoked and had dogs (both forbidden in the lease) but what can you do? We painted, scrubbed, mowed, trimmed, pruned, laid floors, ditched furniture. Got totally bogged down in it and didnt manage to see all the friends we had planned too. We did manage to spend some time with immediate family though - so we haven't been completely disowned yet.
August. Back to the USA with too much luggage in tow. Our first visitors of the season (they got here the day before us!) A weekend in the mountains. Back to work and school and real life. - and fog. lots of fog.
September. Rose cottage not sold yet.But the sun is back. Had a FAB week at brunches, and sundowners and boating parties and looking forward to the glorious sunshine that is fall here in CA.
... And my new volunteering adventure. I'll keep you posted on that one. But as it's work related I'm going to open it up on a new blog. Will post that address here when I get around to getting started proper.
Feel free to post replies - its nice to know there's someone out there.
I can't swear I've been too busy (although I have). Nor that nothing interesting has happened in that time. (Although some of you may argue that nothing interesting ever happens in my blog). I just kinda got busy and summer was here - and I lost the desire to write about stuff.
I can't promise I'm back in the groove now. Who knows? But I decided today to register as a volunteer for non-profits, so thought that might be an interesting little journey I'd like to log personally. So I'm back onboard for the moment.
In the meantime, lest I forget here's what I did this summer.
April, visa renewal application (paperwork hell)
May visa got approved. Tenants finally grudgingly moved out of Rose Cottage
June part #1 returned to Scotland - via the Hamptons where husbands dress sense was publicly deriled by v camp couple in matching pastel shade Bermuda shorts ensemble. (Ironic, I know) Husband handled it very well I have to say.
June part#2. Braced ourselves for the horrible, US embassy experience, packed little survival bags for the anticipated 7 hour ordeal. Were in and out in 45 minutes with approved new 3 year visas (hurrah!). Since the Embassy ban mobile phones, pda's and even key fobs we had nobody's number with us, so couldnt hook up with all the friends we hoped to catch up with. Instead spent the nice day dotting around London in the sunshine, and eating scones in Liberty's while waiting for our plane back up North.
July. Did a mini tour of Scotland with some American friends in tow. Slept in castles, ate in dungeons, laughed at the yanks chasing sheep and taking photos of their dinner. It was fun.
Then got stuck into the DIY proper in big panic for selling the house. Tenants smoked and had dogs (both forbidden in the lease) but what can you do? We painted, scrubbed, mowed, trimmed, pruned, laid floors, ditched furniture. Got totally bogged down in it and didnt manage to see all the friends we had planned too. We did manage to spend some time with immediate family though - so we haven't been completely disowned yet.
August. Back to the USA with too much luggage in tow. Our first visitors of the season (they got here the day before us!) A weekend in the mountains. Back to work and school and real life. - and fog. lots of fog.
September. Rose cottage not sold yet.But the sun is back. Had a FAB week at brunches, and sundowners and boating parties and looking forward to the glorious sunshine that is fall here in CA.
... And my new volunteering adventure. I'll keep you posted on that one. But as it's work related I'm going to open it up on a new blog. Will post that address here when I get around to getting started proper.
Feel free to post replies - its nice to know there's someone out there.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Religion and kids
Easter Sunday.
"Why do we roll our eggs down a hill?"
"To symbolise the stone rolling away from Jesus's tomb".
"Why did the stone roll away?"
"Because he rose from the dead and he wanted to get out."
"He rose from the dead?"
"Yes, so the story says".
"So, Jesus was a zombie?"
"ehm.."
"Why do we roll our eggs down a hill?"
"To symbolise the stone rolling away from Jesus's tomb".
"Why did the stone roll away?"
"Because he rose from the dead and he wanted to get out."
"He rose from the dead?"
"Yes, so the story says".
"So, Jesus was a zombie?"
"ehm.."
neighbours
Husband discovered recently that Michelle Pfeiffer lives somewhere in the county. Have barely seen him for days. Now I understand the new coffee shop obsession.
another brown sauce moment
It's been so long since I posted, I had to think twice about my password. how shameful.
Today was eventful, so I feel compelled to catch up.
Husband totally managed to bowl me over with his completely breezy way of handling stuff.
We've had dodgy electric flickering going on all week. Usually this means high winds, or the connector outside has gotten all corroded by the sea air and needs replacing. So when we got up this morning to power in only half the house, we duly phoned PG&E. The lovely chappy was here in a flash as he knows us so well now (and he likes that we plied him with treats to get us back on the grid in time for our hogmany party). Anyway, he shimmies the pole, replaces the connector, checks the second connection - and smells gas. Uh oh. Corroded gas pipe. He phones the emergency gas man. (Fortunately its the same company). So the gas man comes out. But the corroded pipe is in the house boundary, so we need to call in a private contractor to get it replaced. Meanwhile the electric fault is traced to burnt out connectors in the fuse box (yes we were literally sitting on a gas leak and a sparking fuse box at the same time someone up there is definitely looking out for us!). So the landlord has to come out and sort out the fuse box thing. Today is also first day for our new cleaner - who turns up with a squad of 3 (she obviously felt my house was VERY dirty) at the same time as all this is going on.
I have bogged off to work and left hubby to deal with this. But he graciously phones me to keep me informed every 15 minutes. I did point out that I had a big nasty deadline and a rapidly flapping client to deal with, but nonetheless he felt he should update me frequently. Especially with the good news that we are possibly going to spend the next 4 days and nights without heat, cooking facilities, hot water or power.
So around 11.45 he calls again. I'm in mid stress mode. He calling to ask if I want to meet him for a coffee, as having so many people around the place is really irritating for him and he'd like to just leave them to it for a while. WHAT?! Leave them to it!!! Only he would consider walking away and leaving the gas contractor, the emergency gas man, the emergency electrician, the landlord and three cleaners just to get on with it. I know he cant actually DO anything while they are there, but to me its a bit like letting all the acts onto the ring at once and strolling out of the circus for the day. You can imagine my frosty response.
Anyway, I returned home to a beautifully clean house, complete with power, gas, etc etc. Turns out leaving professionals to do their job in peace is better than micro managing. Who'd have thought.?
The kids took it in turns to show me their newly cleaned rooms. Daughter was overly impressed that her bed had been made, and son stunned that all his lego men have magically re-appeared from lost. (they had been living under the bed I suspect). Husband (until now the housekeeper principle) was completely unashamed, but has discovered a new coffee shop by the ocean apparently.
And for those of you who don't get the brown sauce reference. If you post a comment and I'll fill you in.
Today was eventful, so I feel compelled to catch up.
Husband totally managed to bowl me over with his completely breezy way of handling stuff.
We've had dodgy electric flickering going on all week. Usually this means high winds, or the connector outside has gotten all corroded by the sea air and needs replacing. So when we got up this morning to power in only half the house, we duly phoned PG&E. The lovely chappy was here in a flash as he knows us so well now (and he likes that we plied him with treats to get us back on the grid in time for our hogmany party). Anyway, he shimmies the pole, replaces the connector, checks the second connection - and smells gas. Uh oh. Corroded gas pipe. He phones the emergency gas man. (Fortunately its the same company). So the gas man comes out. But the corroded pipe is in the house boundary, so we need to call in a private contractor to get it replaced. Meanwhile the electric fault is traced to burnt out connectors in the fuse box (yes we were literally sitting on a gas leak and a sparking fuse box at the same time someone up there is definitely looking out for us!). So the landlord has to come out and sort out the fuse box thing. Today is also first day for our new cleaner - who turns up with a squad of 3 (she obviously felt my house was VERY dirty) at the same time as all this is going on.
I have bogged off to work and left hubby to deal with this. But he graciously phones me to keep me informed every 15 minutes. I did point out that I had a big nasty deadline and a rapidly flapping client to deal with, but nonetheless he felt he should update me frequently. Especially with the good news that we are possibly going to spend the next 4 days and nights without heat, cooking facilities, hot water or power.
So around 11.45 he calls again. I'm in mid stress mode. He calling to ask if I want to meet him for a coffee, as having so many people around the place is really irritating for him and he'd like to just leave them to it for a while. WHAT?! Leave them to it!!! Only he would consider walking away and leaving the gas contractor, the emergency gas man, the emergency electrician, the landlord and three cleaners just to get on with it. I know he cant actually DO anything while they are there, but to me its a bit like letting all the acts onto the ring at once and strolling out of the circus for the day. You can imagine my frosty response.
Anyway, I returned home to a beautifully clean house, complete with power, gas, etc etc. Turns out leaving professionals to do their job in peace is better than micro managing. Who'd have thought.?
The kids took it in turns to show me their newly cleaned rooms. Daughter was overly impressed that her bed had been made, and son stunned that all his lego men have magically re-appeared from lost. (they had been living under the bed I suspect). Husband (until now the housekeeper principle) was completely unashamed, but has discovered a new coffee shop by the ocean apparently.
And for those of you who don't get the brown sauce reference. If you post a comment and I'll fill you in.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Mayo with that?
Tunitas Creek Road (according to someone at work) is where one should go if you happen to have a body to dump. Apparently all local people know this.
This weekend local cops here investigated a car that was parked up on the highway near the beach. No doubt expecting a drunk or a teen pothead. When they were talking to the driver they spotted a bundle-under-a-blanket, in the back seat. Lo and behold there was a dead body.
Obviously, being a small town this caused some Monday morning speculation on the driver's intention (dump the body off the cliff into the sea, was my bet) This is when G revealed the Tunitas Creek Road (not so) secret.
The collective response was fascinating 'oh really?' 'where is that exactly?' 'why is Tunitas Creek so good then?' ' 'is it accessible?' 'is it signposted?'
You'd think he'd found a great sandwich bar.
I don't really know where I'm going with this one - but felt it deserved a mention. Just in case anyone happens to have a body to dump!
This weekend local cops here investigated a car that was parked up on the highway near the beach. No doubt expecting a drunk or a teen pothead. When they were talking to the driver they spotted a bundle-under-a-blanket, in the back seat. Lo and behold there was a dead body.
Obviously, being a small town this caused some Monday morning speculation on the driver's intention (dump the body off the cliff into the sea, was my bet) This is when G revealed the Tunitas Creek Road (not so) secret.
The collective response was fascinating 'oh really?' 'where is that exactly?' 'why is Tunitas Creek so good then?' ' 'is it accessible?' 'is it signposted?'
You'd think he'd found a great sandwich bar.
I don't really know where I'm going with this one - but felt it deserved a mention. Just in case anyone happens to have a body to dump!
A matter of taste
Now that I'm a 'water warrior' (I have been since sundance - you MUST see F.L.O.W. if you get the chance), I suspect I've become a pain in the butt (pun intended).
I'm currently reading Blue Covenant by Maude Barlow. Get it. It's fascinating (and scary) and will now be peppering my rants with terms like 'water apartheid'.
I don't drink bottled water, only tap water filtered in a jug, carry my own refillable aluminium water bottle everywhere (plastic is B.A.D)., jump on the kids if they dare to run the tap while brushing their teeth and go around at the end of the day tipping everyone else's stale drinking water into the bamboo plants on the windowsill. (waste not want not).
I may become overwhelmed by the issue any day now.
Husband on the other hand is worried because the world is running out of oil and he wont be able to ride his motorbike.
He's also fretting about being eaten by a great white shark if he goes sea kayaking.
I'm currently reading Blue Covenant by Maude Barlow. Get it. It's fascinating (and scary) and will now be peppering my rants with terms like 'water apartheid'.
I don't drink bottled water, only tap water filtered in a jug, carry my own refillable aluminium water bottle everywhere (plastic is B.A.D)., jump on the kids if they dare to run the tap while brushing their teeth and go around at the end of the day tipping everyone else's stale drinking water into the bamboo plants on the windowsill. (waste not want not).
I may become overwhelmed by the issue any day now.
Husband on the other hand is worried because the world is running out of oil and he wont be able to ride his motorbike.
He's also fretting about being eaten by a great white shark if he goes sea kayaking.
Bloody funny
I was at the dentist yesterday getting my teeth routinely cleaned. As you do. The hygenist was lovely and chatty and very considerate and all that, but at one point she totally stabbed my gums. I was very self-contained-dont-like-to-complain British and gave out a polite little 'ouch'. She asked in a not really bothered voice 'oh, did that hurt? . Now this was a tad unrepentant in my opinion, given that she'd just pierced my flesh with a great big silver hook thing!. There was blood for Goodness sake.
I slipped into a mini fantasy of me going OTT writhing and bleeding and screaming at her 'you stabbed me in the mouth of course it feekin hurts!!!' - and it cracked me up!! (obviously it had been a slow day untill then). I completely lost it in the chair, and in an all time first, the dentist had to stop and wait for me to stop laughing before she could carry on.
BUT the best bit is she didn't crack a smile. Just looked at me, blood seeping out my face, laughing like a skate, and waited for me to stop. Americans, nae sense of humor.
I slipped into a mini fantasy of me going OTT writhing and bleeding and screaming at her 'you stabbed me in the mouth of course it feekin hurts!!!' - and it cracked me up!! (obviously it had been a slow day untill then). I completely lost it in the chair, and in an all time first, the dentist had to stop and wait for me to stop laughing before she could carry on.
BUT the best bit is she didn't crack a smile. Just looked at me, blood seeping out my face, laughing like a skate, and waited for me to stop. Americans, nae sense of humor.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
NOT BOVVERED
I should post photos here i know. but that involves me getting up, finding the cable thingy for my iphone, and clicking two buttons. seems like a lot of bother to me.
maybe later.
maybe later.
oh my gawd - am I middle aged??
This just occurred to me.
In the past 2 months I've taken up knitting, pottery and reading history books on 16th century society. Is this a sign of something? Why has the slumbering artisan in me suddenly awoken?
now granted by knitting always turns out to be a scarf, regardless of what it starts as - and a very mishapen and knotted one at that. And I only use size 36 needles cos I dont have the patience for anything thinner, but still...
And my pottery SUCKS! ( I do a great Demi Moore /Righteous Brothers routine though. ) I've only taken 2 classes so far but I can tell my teacher thinks I'm 'special'. Especially when I completely loose control of the clay and end up scraping the walls to remove the 2 inch 'olive bowl' I used 16 pounds of clay to create. I repeatedly tell her it's actually a celtic vessel made in the traditional western isles style. she aint buying it though. - And I had to get my acrylic nails removed so I'd stop slicing through my creations - so I'm sure this one wont last long
The history books are taking a very long time to digest - but I do get past page 18 which is the deepest dive i managed with any of the 'fascinating' business strategy books that line my now sizable reference library
WTF!!!! My hobbies used to be drinking till i fell over, swearing until I subconsciously broke into Russian and wearing shoes completely inappropriate for the surrounding terrain. what happened? anyone? someone?
In the past 2 months I've taken up knitting, pottery and reading history books on 16th century society. Is this a sign of something? Why has the slumbering artisan in me suddenly awoken?
now granted by knitting always turns out to be a scarf, regardless of what it starts as - and a very mishapen and knotted one at that. And I only use size 36 needles cos I dont have the patience for anything thinner, but still...
And my pottery SUCKS! ( I do a great Demi Moore /Righteous Brothers routine though. ) I've only taken 2 classes so far but I can tell my teacher thinks I'm 'special'. Especially when I completely loose control of the clay and end up scraping the walls to remove the 2 inch 'olive bowl' I used 16 pounds of clay to create. I repeatedly tell her it's actually a celtic vessel made in the traditional western isles style. she aint buying it though. - And I had to get my acrylic nails removed so I'd stop slicing through my creations - so I'm sure this one wont last long
The history books are taking a very long time to digest - but I do get past page 18 which is the deepest dive i managed with any of the 'fascinating' business strategy books that line my now sizable reference library
WTF!!!! My hobbies used to be drinking till i fell over, swearing until I subconsciously broke into Russian and wearing shoes completely inappropriate for the surrounding terrain. what happened? anyone? someone?
I thought I was European until..
On my recent sundance trip I did two things which made me feel like a total hicksville prude.
First up, sharing a room with two girlfriends, I'm chatting, pick up my things go into the bathroom and get ready for bed. As I emerge I think 'why did I just get changed in the bathroom? I'm not 11 years old!!!!!' I shared the thought out loud and they both went 'yeah we did wonder' - obviously had been exchanging looks while I was in there.
Then we saw a movie called 'Choke'. The girl from Trainspotting was in it. A little raunchy for a 8.30am viewing, but funny - I recommend it. But here I had hicksville moment number two. There is a scene in the movie where a female character has engaged the male lead to play out her burglar fantasy and during the act she reaches under the bed and grabs a hairdryer. I'm thinking 'why are people laughing?' I lean over to my friend to ask. Just as I start to whisper ''what's the relevance of the hairdryer?' the 'hairdryer' starts to buzz... Oh the look of disbelief that the California girl gave me, was physically painful.
But of course now they are all considering Scottish colleges for their daughters!
First up, sharing a room with two girlfriends, I'm chatting, pick up my things go into the bathroom and get ready for bed. As I emerge I think 'why did I just get changed in the bathroom? I'm not 11 years old!!!!!' I shared the thought out loud and they both went 'yeah we did wonder' - obviously had been exchanging looks while I was in there.
Then we saw a movie called 'Choke'. The girl from Trainspotting was in it. A little raunchy for a 8.30am viewing, but funny - I recommend it. But here I had hicksville moment number two. There is a scene in the movie where a female character has engaged the male lead to play out her burglar fantasy and during the act she reaches under the bed and grabs a hairdryer. I'm thinking 'why are people laughing?' I lean over to my friend to ask. Just as I start to whisper ''what's the relevance of the hairdryer?' the 'hairdryer' starts to buzz... Oh the look of disbelief that the California girl gave me, was physically painful.
But of course now they are all considering Scottish colleges for their daughters!
Coffee n eggs for breakfast. - Lily dont read this first para
Today was destined to be another ho hum day at work - even in the glittering world (!) of brand design you get those.
But no, packed with events it was.
First lovely A goes into the kitchen and screams like a banshee. We've had a recurring ant problem, despite having completely pristine everythings by my standards. When A went to fill the drip coffee machine, she spotted a little sucker in the water reservoir, she flushed it out - only to set off a mass exodus of egg carrying ants emerging from the innards of the coffee maker. Aaargh. we've all been drinking coffee from there - I refuse to believe the colony was established and fertilized in the last 24 hours. eeeeeuggghh. Send teabags - please.
Then as the morning rolled on, more and more workmen types appeared. Now this I tend to find dull - we rarely have 'diet-coke' types here. Then they leave the door open so it's freezing and to top it off they are way too respectful - no 'awright darlin - hey I widnae bring you a broken pay packet' glesgae banter to redeem them. So I plodded on.
We work in a big new warehouse (esque) building and they were fitting ceiling fans so there was much monkeying up ladders and bending of pipes going on. I realise that lovely A the office do everything is missing and presume they've annoyed her so much she's gone off for a sandwich. Which I also decide to do. I step outside to see if I need my coat (it is January after all - but I didnt) and there she is driving a bleedin cherry-picker around the back yard and hooting like a loony.
Obviously I immediately started screeching 'let me let me let me'. She wouldn't let me, but she came down and up we went together - her driving. We went higher than the roof then proceeded to have a ladylike conversation across the fence with the dudes from the surf shop next door. 'hey ladeez whats the surf look like from up there??' 'flat' 'bogus'. - obviously from great distance we appeared to him as ladeez and not screeching glesga/boston keelies as we did from up close.
It was sooo cool though. I want one for my birthday now. I can just see me, cruising up Highway 1,driving with two little knobs, appearing at peoples upstairs windows, looking in car sunroofs, decapitating myself on powerlines....
But no, packed with events it was.
First lovely A goes into the kitchen and screams like a banshee. We've had a recurring ant problem, despite having completely pristine everythings by my standards. When A went to fill the drip coffee machine, she spotted a little sucker in the water reservoir, she flushed it out - only to set off a mass exodus of egg carrying ants emerging from the innards of the coffee maker. Aaargh. we've all been drinking coffee from there - I refuse to believe the colony was established and fertilized in the last 24 hours. eeeeeuggghh. Send teabags - please.
Then as the morning rolled on, more and more workmen types appeared. Now this I tend to find dull - we rarely have 'diet-coke' types here. Then they leave the door open so it's freezing and to top it off they are way too respectful - no 'awright darlin - hey I widnae bring you a broken pay packet' glesgae banter to redeem them. So I plodded on.
We work in a big new warehouse (esque) building and they were fitting ceiling fans so there was much monkeying up ladders and bending of pipes going on. I realise that lovely A the office do everything is missing and presume they've annoyed her so much she's gone off for a sandwich. Which I also decide to do. I step outside to see if I need my coat (it is January after all - but I didnt) and there she is driving a bleedin cherry-picker around the back yard and hooting like a loony.
Obviously I immediately started screeching 'let me let me let me'. She wouldn't let me, but she came down and up we went together - her driving. We went higher than the roof then proceeded to have a ladylike conversation across the fence with the dudes from the surf shop next door. 'hey ladeez whats the surf look like from up there??' 'flat' 'bogus'. - obviously from great distance we appeared to him as ladeez and not screeching glesga/boston keelies as we did from up close.
It was sooo cool though. I want one for my birthday now. I can just see me, cruising up Highway 1,driving with two little knobs, appearing at peoples upstairs windows, looking in car sunroofs, decapitating myself on powerlines....
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
star spotting
I went to the Sundance Film festival in Utah with two friends.
Minus 10, freeeeeeeeezing cold, standing in queue's for 2 hours for tickets, living on popcorn, coffee and bagels for 3 days. And I LOVED it. It was a total hoot!
Celebs all over the place:
Alan Alda in the airport and on our plane (he's VERY old)
Jack Black at the Premier (he's VERY grey)
Danny Glover (he's looking wobbly)
Glenn Close (she's teeny tiny)
Patty Smith (I didnt know who she was but she's tiny and has had a hard paper-run by the looks of her)
Woody Harrelson (my mates saw him, I missed him cos I was putting my dafty bobble hat on at the time)
And lots of people who's name I can't remember so obviously aren't famous enough yet to merit a mention here.
I stayed with friends of a friend in an incredibly fancy and beautiful big house in the mountains (fancy as in, they have a cinema and ski lodge in the house, fancy). Which in itself was a hoot.
Saw some great movies and a terribly self indulgent documentary on Patty Smith. But at least now I know who she is!
I also had my 15 minutes of fame. Saw a documentary about water 'Float'. You MUST see it if you get the chance. Or read the book 'blue gold'. Anyway, at the Q&A session at the end, I talked about how it had knocked me off the fence on privatisation of water in Scotland. And they asked me to come up to the mic to tell the audience. Being shy and self-conscious I struggled with the decision for 2 seconds - and of course stepped right up there. My mates were thrilled. J says she's been going for 15 years and never seen anyone invited up to the mic before. I realised I am obviously destined for greatness and have a career as an activist / public speaker ahead of me. - that is till she showed me the video and I realized that while speaking very convincingly and with passion, I was talking total mince!!
But maybe politics is more my calling...
Anyway read the book, see the documentary, or check out the website wwww.floatthefilm.com. Please.
Minus 10, freeeeeeeeezing cold, standing in queue's for 2 hours for tickets, living on popcorn, coffee and bagels for 3 days. And I LOVED it. It was a total hoot!
Celebs all over the place:
Alan Alda in the airport and on our plane (he's VERY old)
Jack Black at the Premier (he's VERY grey)
Danny Glover (he's looking wobbly)
Glenn Close (she's teeny tiny)
Patty Smith (I didnt know who she was but she's tiny and has had a hard paper-run by the looks of her)
Woody Harrelson (my mates saw him, I missed him cos I was putting my dafty bobble hat on at the time)
And lots of people who's name I can't remember so obviously aren't famous enough yet to merit a mention here.
I stayed with friends of a friend in an incredibly fancy and beautiful big house in the mountains (fancy as in, they have a cinema and ski lodge in the house, fancy). Which in itself was a hoot.
Saw some great movies and a terribly self indulgent documentary on Patty Smith. But at least now I know who she is!
I also had my 15 minutes of fame. Saw a documentary about water 'Float'. You MUST see it if you get the chance. Or read the book 'blue gold'. Anyway, at the Q&A session at the end, I talked about how it had knocked me off the fence on privatisation of water in Scotland. And they asked me to come up to the mic to tell the audience. Being shy and self-conscious I struggled with the decision for 2 seconds - and of course stepped right up there. My mates were thrilled. J says she's been going for 15 years and never seen anyone invited up to the mic before. I realised I am obviously destined for greatness and have a career as an activist / public speaker ahead of me. - that is till she showed me the video and I realized that while speaking very convincingly and with passion, I was talking total mince!!
But maybe politics is more my calling...
Anyway read the book, see the documentary, or check out the website wwww.floatthefilm.com. Please.
happy new year
On New Years Eve, while we had a housefull of people, little boy comes to me and says 'mum, I don't feel too good'. Oho thinks I, too much Root Beer (which tastes like germoline in my opinion. not that I've ever eaten germoline but its how I imagine it must taste). I whisk him upstairs and he duly barffs EVERYWHERE. Perfect exorcist style, it hits the walls, the floor, my suede boots (they've never been the same since the carpark incident anyway). I mop him up settle him down and return to the party.
Everyone leaves eventually and I get to bed at around 2am. At this point, a 96 hours of bodily fluids and sleep deprivation begin. Son is ill for 2 days (both ends, nuff said). He starts to recover and husband takes ill (less ill than the child in my opinion but still needs to go to his bed for 2 full days - but of course). 21 year old nephew visiting from Scotland gets it the night before his 12 hour flight home. He recovered enough to travel, clutching a pack of immodium for safety. Then as husband recovers and nephew departs, daughter gets it.
I spent 96 hours cleaning, bleaching and mopping brows - and I didn't get it!
My OCD handwashing thing must be a blessing after all.
Anyway, I felt like Ricky Fulton on Jan 1 - lucky white heather anyone?
Everyone leaves eventually and I get to bed at around 2am. At this point, a 96 hours of bodily fluids and sleep deprivation begin. Son is ill for 2 days (both ends, nuff said). He starts to recover and husband takes ill (less ill than the child in my opinion but still needs to go to his bed for 2 full days - but of course). 21 year old nephew visiting from Scotland gets it the night before his 12 hour flight home. He recovered enough to travel, clutching a pack of immodium for safety. Then as husband recovers and nephew departs, daughter gets it.
I spent 96 hours cleaning, bleaching and mopping brows - and I didn't get it!
My OCD handwashing thing must be a blessing after all.
Anyway, I felt like Ricky Fulton on Jan 1 - lucky white heather anyone?
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