Happy Chinese New Year!

In honor of the occasion a few of us went to The Noodle Bar tonight for a Chinese feast. It's this great cheap little place near WR's house, and we had a great time eating and talking and laughing louder than is ladylike. We invited some Chinese friends to come, but they were busy living it up with their own parties. So they can just be that way, then! I ordered some pork dumplings even though Saturday night was the night for dumplings. Better late than never, I guess. Also I think we should make our New Year last fifteen days too. How great would that be?

Sorry I've been AWOL, I promise I'll do better. I have a whole list of things to write about though which will shock and appall you and make your hair curl and cause you to write letters to your local paper and possibly get together a vigilante force and all that good stuff.





By the way, I recommend #43: Fried Singapore Ho Fun

Fun times in Leicester

So last week I spent an afternoon in Leicester so that I could obey Savvydad's counsel to "Take every opportunity to enjoy yourself." He's still sore because I didn't make it to Paris over New Year's. Mmmm, Paris.

Anyway.

It was a gorgeous sunny day and I didn't have any classes, so I decided to go prowl around. Leicester is a 30 minute drive south of me, but only a 10 minute train ride. Seeing as how I don't have a car but DO have a train, I went with the second option. And it turns out that Leicester is a fun kind of a place. I'm usually only there at night (um, that may sound wrong but it's not), and then I'm On The Street Where WR Lives. Unfortunately, all the drug dealers and yellers live on his street too, which kind of gives me a skewed impression of the place.


Here are some quick facts about Leicester:

Leicester is Britain's most ethnically diverse city with 43% nonwhite residents, (mostly from India and Pakistan).

It has the longest-running covered market in England--700 years and still going.

It has Roman and Norman ruins.

It has pretty canals with swans, and then some not-as-pretty canals with trash.

It has H&M, which was having a sale and sold me a blue softy-feeling sweater and a dark pink (for when I only want to look slightly vulnerable) V-neck top.

First place I hit was the Leicester Market, and Oh My Gosh it was huge. There were so many things to look at. They had clothes, jewelry, sheets, lamps, makeup, electronics, everything. And there were miles of produce. You could buy pretty much any fruit or vegetable you could think of. Plus they had things arranged so prettily and everything was so clean and fresh that I found myself wanting to cook and eat things like brussel sprouts and new potatoes because they were Just So Pretty sitting next to each other.

One of the cool things were the "pound bowls" where you could pick any bowl (full of fruit or veggies or a mixture, like the "salad bowls") for £1. The picture gives you an idea of what I mean. I forgot to take my camera with me, so these are all from the Internet.

There were also flower stands with gorgeous cheap bunches of flowers and small potted plants with spring bulbs, and I really wanted to buy myself some but figured they would get trashed as I carried them around, so I didn't.

I was, however, seduced by the piles of mangos I saw everywhere--3 for £1. So I bought three and the nice man who sold them chatted w/me and asked what brought me to Leicester. I ate one as soon as I got to WR's place that night and it was perfect--all three of them were. Then I went to Sainsbury's the next day and saw them selling mangoes at £1.78 each and I did the victory dance of "Hah! Three for a POUND, baby!!" right there in the store.

Then I went to Lush. And I saw that it was good. I've been wanting to go for the past month, ever since I got the Soft Touch body butter as a Christmas gift. WR's sister's B-day party was that night, so I volunteered to go in and find her a present, because I am a selfless, selfless person. I picked the Honey Farm gift set, only the box smelled so good that I kept sniffing at it during the day and wanted to keep it. For myself I bought a block of The Blonde solid shampoo and got a bottle of Coolaulin conditioner for free because I spent £15. (The UK site won't let me link you directly to the products, so I'm taking you to the US site, which is better, even though I'm passing out in my chair from the prices, which are about 3x what they are here. I guess I'd better stock up now!)

Other highlights:

Meeting up with WR for a pub lunch

Wandering around looking at the old pretty buildings

Enjoying the sunshine even if it was freezing cold

Finding a Baskin Robbins in one of the shopping malls, which renewed my faith in the English people, even if it was too cold to actually be eating ice cream just then.

Saved £17.50 when a gorgeous dress that made me look absolutely hot turned out not to be on sale like its neighbors were. I maybe would have bought it at £17.50, but not at £35. It really was so very pretty though . . . sigh.

Anyway, yes. Leicester and I are friends now, and there is much to see and do and buy there.

So I'm officially it now, I think

After being tagged 3 times, I'd better just go ahead and do the thing.

Four jobs you have had in your life:

Sandwich Artist at Subway--and I was an artist, because it said so on my shirt
Custodian @ BYU--because cleaning urinals at 4am makes you more righteous
Student Editor/Proofreader--because it's a good day when you get paid to point out other people's mistakes!
Travelling Sales Rep--because I thought it might be fun to have my soul (and will to live) drained slowly from my body for a coupla years

Four movies you could watch over and over:

BBC Pride & Prejudice--"And your parents are in good health?"
Ocean's Eleven--"Been practicing that speech?"
Horatio Hornblower--"[something something about setting one's manly jaw and doing one's duty For England]"
Cold Comfort Farm--There'll be no butter in hell!"

Four places you've lived:

Bitburg, Germany
London, England
Eagle River, Alaska
Provo, Utah

Four TV shows you love to watch:

House
Friends
Lost (when it isn't being stupid)
Pretentious British stuff like Masterpiece Theatre

Places you've been on vacation:

Smoky Mountains National Park
Paris
The Isle of Capri
Cedar City, UT

Four of your favorite foods:

Cheese, all kinds
Chocolate, all kinds
Pasta, all kinds
Thai food

Four places you'd rather be right now:

On a tropical beach, sipping pina coladas and not burning my pasty white skin off
On a Mediterranean cruise, sipping pina coladas and not burning my pasty white skin off
In Paris, wandering down by the Seine while eating a crepe filled with Nutella, banana, and coconut
In bed with my down comforter (Oh wait! Hah! I totally am!!!)

Four sites I visit daily:

My blog friends
IMDB
Google
Dollars2Pounds, because I am a freak who checks the conversion rate daily

Four Bloggers I am tagging:

Savvymom
Spitfire
Uncle Dave
CBH

These are my brothers and sisters, but only Savvymom updates her blog regularly, and she has a new baby right now. So this is probably a futile exercise.

Yes, to me Sainsbury's grocery store is better than the mall. So?

WR and I did some grocery shopping on Saturday. Because I forgot my purse, he bought all the stuff and then gave me the receipt. When I started looking it over, I got a kick out of the differences in what we bought. See if you can decide which list is which.

List #1

£0.87 Cottage cheese

£0.64 Skim milk

£0.44 Canned soup

£1.39 Jar of pesto

£0.97 Green & orange bell peppers

£0.47 Bananas

£0.54 Granny Smith apples

£0.95 Cereal

£1.43 Mature cheddar cheese

£1.99 Strawberries on sale

£1.48 Cadbury chocolate trifle 3-pack

£2.69 Sainsbury's "Taste the Difference" pizza with mushrooms and mascarpone cheese on a focaccia crust

List #2:

£1.68 Two packages Butcher’s Choice sausages

£1.05 Sausage rolls

£0.87 Tuna Pasta Bake frozen meal

£0.87 Pasta & Meatballs frozen meal

£0.87 Tomato & Bacon Pasta frozen meal

£1.15 Cereal

£1.16 Skim milk

£0.34 Two cans sweetcorn

£0.28 Two cans carrot slices

£0.98 Two cans apple & pear cubes

£0.35 Ketchup

£6.99 Frozen chicken fillets

£0.69 Frozen Mixed Vegetables, which would make his mum so proud

So list #1 was mine--could it be more girly? I guess I could have added sanitary products or Midol for good measure, but really. Also I need to explain a few items because I sort of let myself go this time. The pesto was an indulgence because I was feeling Jamie Oliverish and had visions of fusilli pasta with creamy pesto sauce like they make at the Noodle Factory in Orem. I topped mine with fresh mushrooms, green & orange peppers, and grated white cheddar. Friends, it was good. The Cadbury trifles were for the kids (the kids being me, Landlady J, and me—WR didn’t want his once he saw me eyeing it like a slavering wolf).

I think that WR's list is so completely the list of a bachelor. All the sausage rolls were gone in 2 days, by the way. While in the grocery store, WR is a Man with a Mission. There is no browsing or staring at eclairs, although he will push the cart a bit slower while I stop and stare at eclairs. His system involves going up and down every single aisle, including the liquor aisle and the baby goods aisle. It's not that he needs Absolut Vodka or diapers, because I'm pretty sure he doesn't, but that's The System, by gum.

I become somewhat Attention Deficit in the grocery store. (The only clear focus I have is the need to not spend money, which is problematic in a place that sells fuel which is needed by the body to sustain life.) I skip the aisles I don’t need (like the cookie aisle) so that I can save time and avoid temptation, but then I always forget things like bread or eggs and have to go back to find them. Plus I tend to browse around because there's just so much to look at--visit the cheese section and you will understand. I like to stand in front of the nice posh things and imagine what my life would be like if I actually bought said things—like mortars & pestles and sea salt and profiteroles and all that Jamie Oliver stuff they have in stock.

And in the interest of cultural understanding and growth, there are issues that need pondering, like the following:

(1) Half an aisle is devoted to canned baked beans, which people will be eating on toast, or possibly with sausage on toast.
(2) All the cream cheeses (called “soft cheese” over here) are either flavored or low-fat. Blech blech blech.
(3) There is no such thing as alfredo sauce. There is only carbonara sauce, which is totally different, or this white cheese sauce that people pour on top of lasagna.
(4) You can buy about 8 million different kind of potatoes here.
(5) My strawberries come from Israel. How cool is that?

Maybe the whole "British Empire" thing wasn't such a bad idea

A while back WR and I were watching Pirates of the Caribbean, and during the part where the troops are all lined up and stuff during Norrington's promotion WR said, "See, you can say what you want about the British Empire, but that looks so cool. I mean, they were organized." I probably said something bratty about men dressed like giant targets, and that was the end of it.

Only this past week I've found myself waxing nostalgic for the days of the Empire, too. You may remember that at the beginning of the semester, all the British professors warned us about the death and carnage that would result from mobile phones which dared to go off in class. And I was all excited about the new Reign of Justice and Death.

Sadly, however, it turns out that those were idle soft and fluffy Commonwealth threats. Because we just had two days full of lectures about Research Methods for our dissertation (thesis) and on the first day I heard FOUR different cell phones go off. And not a single person was killed or flayed or even reprimanded. At the beginning of the lectures I noticed one girl carrying a conversation on her mobile. Also, people kept wandering in late. But it was mostly the mobiles that stunned me. In fact, one phone went off on both Day 1 and Day 2 of lectures. I mean really, these kids have already been here an entire semester--how have they not been picked off by eagles yet???

Also it appeared to me that all the mobiles that rang belonged to East Asian students. But this may just be the law of percentages: If a phone rings it's just more likely that it belongs to an East Asian student (50 percent of the department's postgraduate student population) than an American student (2 percent) or a Russian student (1 percent). So it's not that I'm racist, so don't write in to tell me that I am. (If you do choose to write in, please tell me your ethnicity and I will be sure to look up some racist terms on Wikipedia to call you to prove how not racist I am.)

A professor was telling us about how early in his career he was researching in the Trinity Library at Cambridge and came across an old unopened box containing eight letters from some famous theorist to another famous theorist, and how those letters had never before been published and actually answered some of the unanswered questions about this theorist. It was like something out of Possession by A.S. Byatt. Right as the instructor is telling us how exciting all this was, and how things like this never happen, a mobile phone went off. And it wasn't the one and one-half rings that you're used to hearing, which is how long it usually takes for the embarassed idiot to turn off their flipping phone. Oh no, this phone rang no less than 5 times. The student just took it out of her bag and then held it as it rang, as though she had absolutely no idea how to make the sound stop.

I tell you what: let's bring back the British Empire. Sure, it may have been oppressive and culturally insensitive and full of stupid outfits. But when the British Empire promised floggings, they delivered. Captain Sir Edward Pellew would never have put up with this mess.

You break the rules; you get flogged. That is all.

I'm loyal to the Motherland, but America is quite nice too

Hah. My dad will be calling me in 5 minutes, just you watch.

So I've lived most of my life in the States, which is not unusual for a US citizen. But it's funny the things you notice after being gone for a little while. Here are the things I noticed and appreciated during my visit back home. (Note: I realize that I was visiting Mormonville but that's not what this post is about. Rest assured, though, that there were lots of churches and SUVs and Aryan poster-children all over the place.)

Things I Noticed and Appreciated:

Drinking fountains

Honda Civics and other not-hatchbacks

Houses with grass on all four sides

Sunshine

Dry cold, which is pretty much a tropical vacation compared to damp cold

Being able to say "crap" every other sentence if I felt like it, which I sort of did. 'Twas very freeing.

Refrigerators you could park an entire English car in

Seeing gallon jugs of milk in the fridge--4 of them

Seeing 3 tubs of Dryers in the freezer

Dad's chocolate milkshakes and microwave popcorn

Ice cream shops, where I could go and get a double-scoop ice cream cone at the exact second I decided that I wanted one. Granted, I never did this, because I didn't have to with all that Dryers in the freezer, but still. People have heard my opinions on the lack of ice cream shops in England. (In WR's words, "Oh. So you're still on that, then.")

Fleming's steakhouse, where my parents took me for dinner because they love me--and because my dad loves steak

Coney's Frozen Custard with Daltongirl

Fry sauce

All-you-can-eat sushi for $12.95 with Cicada and Redlaw. Mmmm . . . Vegas rolls . . .

AmyJane, Redlaw, Daltongirl, Foodie, Kristen, AA, Panini, Cicada, Mistress of Mayhem, Jaime, and all the delightful people I got to see. I am not going to mention the undelightful people, because I've done that once already.

Hearing my 22-month-old niece announce that she farted. Her mother and I both started laughing, which made her say it more. "I FAR-ted. I far-ted. FAR-ted, Momma!"

Yes, I really am this lazy

I can't write an entire post here because I have to get back to class, but here's the letter I wrote to my family to let them know that I'm back safe on English soil:

I just wanted to let y'all know that I made it back just fine and I've unpacked and am going to go take a much-needed shower.

Highlights from the trip:

Exchanged my blue pashmina at the Vegas airport store, only it snagged by the time I got to Loughborough. Moral of the story: don't buy $10 crap.

[Savvymom's] sleeping pill, which worked quite nicely! I took it with the in-flight meal and by the time I finished eating I saw two flight attendants instead of one and barely had time to get my complimentary little eye-mask thingie on before I passed out. I woke up several times but just for a minute or two each time.

Getting a sweet text from WR as soon as I hit English soil and turned on my phone.

Hearing a toddler yell "NOO!" during passport check and automatically looking for Savannah.

Having this 60-yr-old Australian lady try to cut in line at the passport check because she'd got in the wrong one and didn't want to go to the back like a normal person. My new friend Victoria from Las Vegas who is studying costume design in London told her that she was sorry the lady got in the wrong line, but she could just go to the back like everyone else, and the Australian lady told her not to be so "narky." And then the lady touched Victoria's shoulder to get her to move forward and Victoria said, "I'm going to have to ask you not to touch me." Eventually the people behind us let her in because she wasn't going to budge. (Victoria and I both agreed later that if the lady had just come up to us and said, "I'm so sorry, but I just spend 40 minutes standing in the wrong line and my family is waiting for me, could I possibly, etc." then we would have let her in. Only she didn't do that. And it's not like Australians have never heard of a queue before. Anyway, I'm not a jerk. I'm not!)

Dropping my laptop case upside down on an ESCALATOR and having everything spill out--a nice man helped me grab some of the stuff at the bottom.

Getting an earlier train from Gatwick--the nice train man said I could, so I got home an hour early.

Forgetting my suitcase when I got off the train at King's Cross and having to rush back on to grab it--a nice man pried the door open for me so I could get back off.

Remembering that people in London can be nice.

Mommie gem

Remember how sometimes I do mommie gems? Well it's Christmas and Easter all rolled in one, because today I have a new one for you!

The other day I was steeling myself to go drop 60 bucks with the hairdresser lady to get my hairs done. My split ends were taking over the world, and I needed to have chemicals poured on my head to stop the dirty dishwater shade that tries to take over my head when I'm not looking.

When this happens, I have this conversation with myself (and with anyone else unfortunate enough to be around) about how I really should not be spending that much money on something as silly as hair, and how I can't just keep this up indefinitely, and how I really should just stop and accept the fact that my natural hair color looks like dusty bat poop and how I will never spend enough time in the sun, ever, to get natural highlights.

This time, I had The Conversation with Mom and Savvymom.

Me: "I mean, it's just so much money to spend. And it's especially expensive to spend that in England, where everything is twice as much."

Mom: "Now, it should be cheaper to get your hair done in Europe. It was when I lived there."

Me: "Um, well, it costs plenty in England. Also there's the exchange rate and all."

Mom: "Well, in Germany, in 1987, you could get your hair done for cheap."

Me: ". . . kay . . . Anyway, maybe I should just get a cut and forget the highlights. Would my hair look terrible if I just skipped it?"

Mom: "In Germany I could get a cut and a perm for about 35 marks."

Savvymom: "Ewww, why would you get a perm?"

Me: "Thanks for you help."

I finally got her to believe that Europe's economy may have bounced back a bit since the Cold War, and that England was probably never cheap to begin with. I did end up spending all my moneys on a cut and highlights, and it does look pretty darn cute.

How not to be a slack-jawed idiot

This is my letter to the table of 25, most specifically the 7 big-haired rugby-player teenagers at the loud end of the table, who ruined Foodie's birthday dinner:

Dear Big-Haired Rugby-Player Teenagers at the Loud End of the Table,

I realize that you are from Springville, UT and therefore were never taught proper "going out in public" manners (your claim, not mine), so I'm just going to make you a little list now for future reference.

1. The Brick Oven in Provo may not be an establishment of fine dining, but it is still a restaurant, rather that the pig's trough you mistook it for.

2. Claiming that you are from Springville, UT, and therefore were never taught how to be in public is no excuse. However, if this is seriously going to impede you, they do have things resembling restaurants in Springville. We suggest you use them.

3. Apache war cries from wannabe frat boys are offensive, whether at the table or not.

4. We do not pound on tables with our fists.

5. When the weak-spined pansy manager with the stupid glasses has to come over and ask you to keep it down, that means you are being really, really loud.

6. A real manager (rather than the weak-spined pansy you met last night) would have asked you to leave. Should you decide to try this whole "restaurant thing" a second time, don't be surprised when this happens.

7. When the entire UNLV women's basketball team (who was in town playing BYU that day) asks to be moved to another area of the restaurant, that means you are being really, really loud.

8. When the entire UNLV women's basketball team gets up to leave and you start calling out things like, "Go home, UNLV!" that means you are not only loud and stupid, but that you deserve to be stuffed into a basketball hoop, doused in kerosene, and set on fire.

9. The "Happy Birthday Song" does not need to be sung at the top of your lungs. And it most definitely does not need to be sung twice at the top of your lungs.

10. When a witty and attractive library student is visiting from England and this is her one chance to catch up with these particular friends, and she can't even hear them because you are being so flipping loud, that means you deserve to be slowly dismembered with pizza slicers.

11. When one of the long-suffering girls at Foodie's table finally stands up and tells you exactly how obnoxious you are being and that you have completely ruined her meal, then grabs her purse and leaves the room, you do not call out things like "Yay, she's leaving!" This causes both Kristen and Nemesis to whip around in their seats, snarling, and tell you exactly what they think of behavior like that, because that is both rude and ugly. Then you will look down at your laps like the embarassed teenagers that you are. Only you brought in our yourselves.

Bon Appetit, punks!

Let the wild rumpus begin

So Baby Savannah is having a great time with the whole "having grandparents in town" gig. She already knows that Grandma and Papa = Krispy Kreme and Soda. Today my mom and dad and I took her to Burger Supreme for lunch, where she drank 1) Mom's Diet Coke, 2) my root beer, and 3) her ketchup. We went for lunch because Savvymom and Savvydad were taking the new baby to have his little, ahem, procedure. I'll leave Savvymom to tell that story, though.

This morning she presented my dad with Where the Wild Things Are and made the noises that mean "read this to me right now and nobody gets hurt."

Dad: "Okay sweetie, let's read the book. I don't have my reading glasses, though . . . "

So because he couldn't see the words he just made stuff up.

Dad: "And this boy has a crown or something on his head . . . "

After a few minutes I heard . . .

Dad: "Wait, what kind of oddball animals are these? What book is this??"

The Precious and The Precious II

Bliss, people. Guess who remembers her auntie?



This snuggly little guy doesn't remember me yet, on account of he's new. But he will!

Stay on target

Almost there . . . almost there . . .

The Star Wars quote is in honor of my dad, and also in honor of Denis Lawson, who played Wedge Antilles in the Star Wars trilogy but has lately been showing up in some of the British stuff I've been watching lately, including a television show that they showed on the airplane just now. They said it was a comedy but it wasn't that funny to me. Only maybe that's because I'd just watched Everybody Loves Raymond and almost choked from trying not to wake up the girl napping next to me with my chortling.

This morning dear sweet WR got up at 4:30am to drive me to Gatwick, because he is a Good, Good Man. (His flatmate also wins the Good Good Man award for coming with us to keep WR awake on the 3-hour drive back.) Also, how pathetic am I that I'm only going to be gone for a week, but I started missing WR the second he hugged me goodbye. Also he paid to park and came inside and bought me breakfast at McDonalds. Sniff. Sniff.

I'm in the Las Vegas airport right now, waiting for my Delta connection to SLC. To my left is the Strip, and to my right is the moving walkway, which keeps playing celebrity and faked-celebrity voices telling people to stand to the right of the moving walkway so that the people on the left who want to be gambling right this second can get to it. They even have slot machines in that livestock pen airports build for smokers. The Las Vegas airport is kind of my new best friend, though, because I stood outside waiting for a bus to the terminal and it was sunny and 65 degrees. Mmmmm. Also they have free wireless. And drinking fountains and really big nice bathrooms where I can brush my teeth and stores containing things which cost dollars instead of pounds, so I can buy twice as much of them. So yeah, we're friends.

Only I'm not so sure if Virgin Atlantic and I are friends. Or at least I'm not friends with their representatives in the airport. They kept not doing what I wanted, like when they said I couldn't carry my carry-on bag on the airplane because it weighs more than 6, even though I used the same sassy cherry-colored bag on a Virgin flight back in September. They also wouldn't check said bag all the way through to SLC, (grrr) and they tried to say that Delta and Virgin Atlantic aren't Skymiles partners, but I wasn't having any of that, because they so are. So yeah, moral of the story: start your trip with Delta, so then Virgin just has to shut their faces and deal with it. Plus it wasn't nice of them to start telling me No first thing in the morning and throwing off my groove. I have a long day ahead of me, people--could you try not shafting it right off the bat??

Once I got on the plane Virgin started redeeming itself, which means that they kept me fed and watered. I can get behind that. Every time I looked up they were coming around with water or orange juice or ice cream bars or these tiny little panini guys. The dessert with the dinner was this profiterole thing w/chocolate sauce and I really wanted to start cruising the aisles to see if there were people who didn't want theirs, cuz dang that was good. Also they showed lots of lots of movies and TV shows, but the station that would have been showing the new Pride & Prejudice was out of service. Of course. I did watch the new Wallace & Grommit movie and some good TV shows and stuff.

Almost there . . . almost there . . .

Who has one-third of a master's degree?

That's right, I do!!

Whew! I just finished my last two projects today. (I couldn't finish one of them until the computer labs opened back up yesterday). And now I am free, free, free! Also it means I can actually get on the plane in the morning and fly meself back across the pond to see darling baby Savannah and my NEW darling nephew Ethan who arrived yesterday and is just beautiful beautiful beautiful.

It feels really weird to be coming back though when I've only been gone a few months. I keep thinking, "Wait, this isn't right! I haven't transformed myself into a creature of intrigue and sophistication and a Madonna-ish accent yet! I don't even have a new wardrobe!" But the sad fact is that my meagre funds will buy me more clothes in Provo than they will in England, so I'll be doing some shopping next week. In fact, there is a whole list of things I will be doing in Provo next week, on account of how much cheaper it will be:

1. Developing all my pictures (Bless the good people at Costco!)
2. Buying a white dress shirt to replace the one that I turned grey in the washing machine (along with all my underwear) when I accidentally put a black sock in with my whites. This was when I was first dating WR, so I was trying to do the laundry really fast so I could get back to, um, stuff . . .
   
3. Buying books to read on the plane ride, airport wait, plane ride, passport check, airport wait, train ride, train station wait, and train ride back to my England house. Airplane books are such tricky things, anyway. It has to be the right kind of book--just page-turny enough to be interesting but not enough to make you think too hard. And I don't like just buying the first piece of chick-lit cotton candy I come across, because what if it's rubbish and then I have a $10 book I'm never going to read again?
   
4. Buying t-shirts for WR, because he says he wants some, and he will deserve them on account of he's driving me 3 hours to the airport tomorrow. I asked him what size he wears and he doesn't know. What size of Old Navy shirt do 6-foot-tall skinny men wear, usually? Anyone know?
   
5. Looking for black heels. Right now I only have flats, which are comfortable but don't actually show my sexy calf muscles to their full advantage. And since those are the only sexy muscles I have, I should really be making use of that. Unfortunately, English shoes hate me and my feet and absolutely none of them fit. Or at least they don't fit my right food. And no, I don't want to talk about it. If I were smarter I would just chuck the high-heel idea because I still have scars on my feet from the last time I tried to wear high-heeled black dress shoes (September 25th). But maybe the scarring part was because they were crap from Payless Shoe Source.
   

Also there's a list of things I will be buying when I'm in UT because I can't buy them here

1. The entire stock of Bath & Body Works who will be having their huge January sale
2. Cajun seasonings for the cooking of Cajun Chicken Linguine
3. Tomatilla for my Canadian classmate who is having Mexican food withdrawals
4. Black beans, possibly, unless anyone in the UK knows where I might find some
5. Reeses peanut butter cups
   
6. More peanut butter
7. More chocolate chips
8. More cowbell
9. Bisquick, for the cooking of Southern necessities
10. Smucker's boysenberry syrup for Landlady J, because it turns out she really likes that stuff and she gave back half my rent for next week since I won't be here. So she can have whatever kind of syrup she wants.
    
11. A duffel bag for the carrying of said items
    

Can anyone think of anything I'm leaving out? Anyway, must get to packing. Please cross your fingers that I survive the 10 hour 45 minute plane ride to Vegas without causing harm to myself or others. And I hope I will get to see some of you while I'm there!

The Brits meet Dixie and she frightens them

My absolute favorite breakfast is my mom's (and now my) biscuits & sausage gravy. It's a Southern staple, and people who've never tried the real stuff are missing out. (Note: whatever they serve you at Denny's or from the big cauldron at gas stations is NOT the real thing. You must never let such an abomination pass your lips.)

So during the Christmas break I decided that I needed some biscuits & gravy and that WR needed to be introduced to the finer aspects of Southern cuisine. Turns out that a fun thing to do is tell a British person you are making them biscuits 'n gravy. Go on, try it sometime! They will look at you and say, "Biscuits . . . with gravy???" as they imagine someone taking a plate of Hobnob cookies and pouring a boatload of brown gravy over them. Then they start retching. It gets even better when you mention the sausage. Landlady J couldn't get over it, and started laughing through the dry heaves. Once I explained further she decided that I was making sugarless scones with white sauce and sausage. Which . . . okay.

I had to make the biscuits from scratch, since they don't actually make Bisquick here, and I had to forego the Jimmy Dean sausage in favor of Sainsbury's brand. But the end result worked, I think, even though the sausage-to-milk ratio was off in the beginning. And I wasn't too worried about whether WR would eat it, because the main ingredient is sausage, which I think might be his favorite section of the food pyramid.

So I served us both, took a picture especially for my blog friends, and proceeded to dig in. To my right I saw WR pick up a biscuit half with his hand and take a bite out of it.

WR: "Mmmmm . . . this is quite tasty!"

Me: "Oh my gosh, what are you doing???"

WR: "What?"

Me: "Um, you don't eat this with your hands. It's against the rules."

WR: "Why not?"

Me: "You just don't!"

WR: "But that's how the French eat it."

Me: "Aaaughh! Don't mention the French, my father will be reading this!"

WR: "Erm, not sure what the problem is here."

Me: "Because, people will see the pictures and they will know that I failed because you're not supposed to be physically able to eat this with your hands! The gravy is too thick and now everyone will know and the Daughters of the Confederacy will tell me that I'm out of the club and I'm not allowed to make biscuits and gravy anymore and I will die from the shame!"

WR: (calmly continued eating his meal, hoping that the rabid banshee next to him would eventually settle)

As soon as I finished my plate, I raced to the kitchen to add more milk to the gravy. The problem was that an English package of sausage is bigger than an American package of sausage, so I needed more milk to compensate. And that's all. I know what I'm doing. I do!

WR went back for seconds and ended up nearly finishing off the pan. I swear I've never seen anyone who can pack away as much food as he can. Also he was very complimentary and told me that he really liked it. That's the nice thing about cooking for WR--he always compliments the food and then usually offers to do the "washing up." And yes, he calls it that, which I think is adorable. Somehow in my egocentric world English people only use words like this because they know I get a kick out of it.

In case anyone wants to try this at home, here's the very simple recipe:

1 package sausage
3 or so tbsp flour
3 cups of milk
salt & pepper

biscuits (made from a mix or scratch)

Brown the sausage in a large saucepan--don't drain out the grease. Once cooked, sprinkle in the flour & stir to coat the meat. Add the milk and stir over low heat until the gravy thickens (about 10 minutes). If the gravy's too thin, let it cook down. If it gets too thick, add more milk and reheat. (Hint: If it's thick enough to eat with your hands that's bad!) Add salt and pepper to taste, serve hot over warm biscuits.

Extra points if you up the cholesterol quotient with a side of fried or scrambled eggs. Bonus extra points if you use a Southern accent for the entire meal.

Enjoy!

Resolutions? I don't need no stinking resolutions

Because it is the new year, and because I would hate to start the year off with some kind of blogtastic feat of genius and wit, which would then haunt me for the rest of the year as I tried to live up with the precedent I'd set, I'm going to make things easy on myself. My first post of the year will be a highlights/lowlights list. So there.

New Year's Highlights:

Lasagna dinner with WR and other friends, with lasagna prepared the English way. Turns out this does not involve ricotta cheese but does involve a jar of white Lasagna sauce. Who knew? It was tasty, though.

Drank large quantities of J2O. My favorite flavor is "Orange & Passionfruit."

Ate enough cookies, cake, cheesecake, Jaffa cakes, chocolates, brie, ciabbatta bread, and red grapes to turn myself (and possibly 2 or 3 other people) morbidly obese.

Got to be on the winning Monopoly team (WR's). I've decided that I should always be on a team when I play that game, as it reduces the impulse to 1) lose interest and quit early, 2) lose interest and begin with the namecalling, and 3) lose interest and knock the #$%&^ game off the table. It was much better this way, and I sort of won! Also it was the British version, where the money is in pounds and the properties are things like "Oxford Street" and "Park Lane" and "Marylebone Railroad" and stuff.

There was no playing of Risk. Thank the heavens above. I know the menfolk love that game, but seriously.

Watched the countdown on TV, as well as the fireworks show that they did from the London Eye, which looked pretty darn amazing, even on the TV. The only fly in the ointment was the BBC commentator lady, who was either high, drunk, or had never seen fireworks before in her entire life. She kept going on and on about how "fireworks are so masculine, so this year they've incorporated touches of fushcia to make them more feminine" and how "OOOOOh my Goooooooosh, it's like falling drops of lace from Heaven and the Blessed Angels!!!" Yeah. Completely insane, she was.

Slept in till 10:30 and had English pancakes for breakfast. Turns out they're different too--more like thick crepes in texture--but really good. I had mine w/lemon & sugar and polished off the leftover brie for good measure. Wouldn't want to be wasteful. WR hit on the genius idea of melting brie into the pancake. Am I the luckiest girl ever or what?

Went to church in the afternoon and listened to a very sweet man give a talk wherein he didn't actually talk about the gospel or the scriptures or Jesus so much. He had just been to see The Lion, The Witch & the Wardrobe with his family and did that thing many people do when they've just recently seen a movie and loved it and found it Really Meaningful (think Schindler's List, Saving Private Ryan, The Passion of the Christ, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, The Matrix, movies starring Hillary Duff, etc.). Because this dear brother was moved by the elements of Christian allegory in the story, he proceeded to re-tell the entire thing right there in church, including the part where the White Witch kills Aslan and you think he's dead but he's actually not because of this older magic and then he totally comes to life again. I kept waiting for someone in the congregation to stand up and say, "Hey! I'm flippin' taking my kids to see that tomorrow, could you not ruin it???" I bet some people wanted to.

It was WR's birthday on the 1st, so I gave him his presents and he really liked them. Also he wanted new jeans and I found a pair for 5 English Pounds because I am the best bargain shopper ever! (And possibly I was just in the right place at the right time during the after-Christmas sales, but still!)

Lowlights:

Was not, as you may have deduced from the highlights list, actually in Paris for New Year's Eve like I said I would be. This is my own fault, though, since I kind of killed it once we added up all the costs and the driving time and the crappy weather and some other things. I will get there, though, and it will be wonderful and we will eat crepes and dance down the streets and speak the francais to the francaise.

Am certain the morbid obesity will be settling in any time now. I will feel a rumble and look down to find my jeans ripping of my legs and my thighs lopping over the sides of my chair onto the floor.

So there you have it. Welcome, 2006! Let's try not to suck!

Bit of fast-food culture for you

So I'm at WR's apartment and they've received a bunch of those flyer things from the nearby pizza places and burger places and Chinese places, as do you. I had a pretty good time flipping through and wanted to share some of the menu items with you so that you know what I'm up against in this crazy world.

Ahem.

First we have the burger places, which usually double as kebab shops or as fish & chip shops or pizza shops or maybe friend chicken places or perhaps a bit of all these things.

Beef or Lamb Burger
(Char grilled burger with lettuce, tomato, onion & corn relish)

Pepper and Mayo Burger
(With mayo & lots of freshly ground black pepper)

Garlic and Mayo Burger
(you get the idea)

Lamb Doner Kebab
(Specially minced lamb with herbs and spices)

Kofte Kebab
(Specially minced lamb with parsley, spices & garlic, char grilled on a skewer)

Then we move on to the pizza places, which have possibly my favorite selection. You've got your basic stuff like margherita and pepperoni and hawaiian, and then it all goes to Crazy Land. Do keep in mind that this is from a resteraunt labelled "American Pizza":

Tandoori Chicken
(Tandoori chicken, green chilli, onions, sweetcorn, peppers)

Indiana--Miss Hass, this one's for you since you live in Indiana and probably eat this all the time! Or, you know, possibly this is a play on "India".
(Hot base w/Tandoori chicken, chicken tikka w/green chilli, onions, pineapple, peppers, and sweetcorn)

Seafood
(Anchovy, prawns, tuna, cockles, sweetcorn, onions & peppers)

American Special--pay close attention to this one, folks
(Ham, garlic sausage, pepperoni, sweetcorn, mushrooms, onions & peppers)

Sweetcorn, for the love of heaven. Can any of you tell me when on this sweet green Earth of goodness we Americans have ever put such a thing as corn on our pizzas? That's right, the answer is NEVER. But they're crazy about sweetcorn over here and put it in everything--pizza, pasta, tuna sandwiches, absolutely everything.

But lest you think I live amongst a pack of crazies who need to be wiped out, let me tell you about the thing they do here that we really need to get behind. It's an appetizer in pretty much every Chinese restaraunt and it is amazing.

Crispy Aromatic Duck
(Deep-fried crispy duck, served with thin pancakes, shaved cucumber, spring onions and hoi sin sauce)

They bring all the ingredients to your table and you make little wraps and eat them while making indecent sounds. I've never seen this on a Chinese menu, but maybe I only live in podunk places and some of our more cosmopolitan friends in NYC or San Francisco have this all the time. Feel free to tell me if that's the case.

So there's Miss Nem's cultural comparison of the day, which is brought to you by the number 6 and the letters E & W.

Wherein I wax metaphorical

So there are these cherry trees on the way to campus, just near my house. And they seem to have become confused, because around the beginning of December they started blossoming. Now, perhaps this is wrong and an abomination against nature and its laws, but I don't care. When I was sick and dying during my Time of Illness and final projects and stress and Dickens Orphan Christmases as I trudged back and forth from campus, those darn blossoms were almost the only thing that could make me smile and feel okay about life.

If you want to use The Story of the Cherry Trees as an object lesson during a talk or whatever, you can feel free. Just be sure to mention me in it somewhere, and make sure it's not stupid. A few ideas for themes:

Beauty in the midst of ugliness
Promise of rebirth and Spring
The Jesus story
Trees with flowers are better than trees without
Sick people get wacked-out ideas

Coming down from the chocolate stupor

Yay, let's play the numbers game!

1--Traditional English Christmas dinner eaten, including turkey and vegetables and brussel sprouts and roasted potatoes and truckloads of gravy

1--English Christmas Puddings eaten

1--Queen's Christmas Speech viewed

0--Mention of Charles & Camilla's wedding during said speech

9--Time difference (in hours) between England and AK

1--Mobile phones accidentally left at home when I went over to spend Christmas w/WR's family

17--Times my family tried to get ahold of me on Christmas Day

4--Total hours spent in my own house during the holidays

2--Times my parents said, "You're dead to me!" when I finally called them

2--Turkey & brie sandwiches consumed from Christmas leftovers

1,379--Pieces of chocolate consumed, including the alcoholic kind and imported Reese's peanut butter cups

27--Hours of television watched, including the parts I slept through

2--Times it snowed, turning the rooftops all white and Dickenslike, and the countryside all English and pretty

0--Hours of homework done

It did feel somewhat strange and not-quite-like-Christmas to be away from my family. But I was very lucky in that lots and lots of people checked in to make sure that I had somewhere to go and wasn't going to end up alone in a cold empty house, overdosing on paracetemol. WR's family was very kind and made me feel at home (they even bought me presents!) and I didn't ever have time to get homesick. Plus I got to be with WR pretty much the whole time, which made me happy. So yeah, I'm a lucky girl.

I hope you all had wonderful Christmases too!

You love me! You really love me!

I just want everyone to know how much I have appreciated your Christmas cards and emails. You've kept me from feeling homesick! I created a shrine (complete with candles) with all the Christmas cards you've sent. So, you know, don't ever think, "Oh, I don't want to send Nem anything. She won't even appreciate it." Because I totally will! I don't even throw them away once Christmas is over, but keep them in a box because I just can't bear to throw anything away.

But I also appreciate good vibes/prayers/well wishes, just in case you're like me and had to cut down your Christmas card list this year.




Also, I think my little tree is the most beautiful thing in the world and I might just keep it up until March because I like it that much. It makes me think of happy things, as does the Christmas cd I'm listening to right now. It's the one I made last year--all the classics sung by Nat King Cole, Judy Garland, Bing Crosby, Dean Martin, and all those good folks.



So mommy, you don't need to worry about me being a Dickens orphan trudging the streets with my crust of bread--I'm happy and well and very blessed.

Merry Christmas to everyone!

Good times never felt so good

So, this is what "well" feels like, then? It's taken so long to return to the Land of the Living that I'd almost forgotten what an absolutely fabulous place that land can be.

So here are the things that have me feeling great:

1. I can pretty much smell again. (Sad part--I can now smell myself and my bedroom, aaaaannnnd . . . it's not pretty, folks. )

2. I can taste my food! Yipee! Tasting food is pretty much favorite thing and now I can do it again, just in time for Christmas and all the gastronomic delights that await me! (Yes, Dad, I do realize that I'm in England. But this is a glass-full kind of a post.)

3. I can breathe! Breathing is my favorite, too!

4. I'm not feeding Lady J's cat anymore! Although I'm so blissed out now that I don't even mind that string of meows she does when she's calling forth the Minions of Hades. I can actually find it kinda cute now.

5. It's almost Christmas! And I don't have to be even a tiny bit sad about not being with my family, because I'm going to see them in two weeks--so I can just enjoy my English Christmas and love the people I'm with and watch the Queen on the telly.

6. The computer labs on campus have shut for Christmas and so now I don't have to do any more Quark Xpress homework! (It must be pointed out here that for the past few days the labs have been open but there have been workmen in there replacing the ventilation system, which doesn't actually create the best work environment. My favorite part was today when one of their cell phones went off. Rather than ringing it played an audio clip about a bank robbery where a woman yells the f-work about 6 times. Clas-sy.)

7. I only have a few things to pick up in the morning, and then my Christmas shopping is done.

8. I'm taking the darling and long-suffering WR to dinner tomorrow. This is my idea to celebrate 1) me not being a cranky sick exhausted stressed-out hormonal beast anymore, 2) me having some "play money" left in my budget, and 3) the two-month anniversary of our First Date.

I think life would be better if we all had more anniversaries--not the kind people get in trouble for forgetting, necessarily, but more like the kind you can make up on the spot as an excuse to use the nice glasses. (Examples: The Anniversary of When I Bought My Car, or The Anniversary of When I Got that Mole Removed.)

Quick note to the gentlemen out there: You could get soooo many points if you were to go back and figure out some anniversaries and use them as a reason for doing something nice. Girls just love that stuff. Please only do that for someone you are actually dating, as opposed to pretend dating. No girl wants Leonard the Scary Office Guy who Doesn't Wash His Hand to hand her a crimson rose with a note that reads, "This is the anniversary of the day I met you. I went home that day and carved your name into my chest with a crochet hook. My mom cauterized the wound and then we braided each other's hair."

Seriously, don't do that. Just--don't.

9. I might be going to Paris for New Year's Eve!!!

10. Paris, baby!