Book of the Week: The City of Dreaming Books by Walter Moers
Well, here we go again. I have been very, very bad at maintaining this blog this year. I did plenty, saw plenty and experienced so much, yet barely posted any of it. Highlights have definitely been going back for the folks' 40th anniversary in January, then having the family visit for three weeks, and all the travelling I did either with Gareth, the family or with both together (week in New York, long weekend in Zadar, the couple of weeks over in London, Paris and Ireland - again - a brief weekend in Germany, another two weeks in Japan and another long weekend in Madrid). And my first proper snowy winter (white Christmas, yay!). Maybe I'll find some time to blog about all of it at some point. I'm feeling quite annoyed and a bit sad that I didn't, because I know I should - I already have enough trouble trying to remember things the state my memory is in, and I still I didn't. I always say this at the end of the year, but I don't seem to stick to it. That's my one regret for the year. Apart from that, it's been fantastic.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
London Calling
Book of the Week: see previous post.
This post should really have preceded the previous one, but I hadn’t got round to writing it before I got the news that made me so glad and relieved. It’s just cascading happiness around here just now – getting news like that just makes everything pale in significance, and nothing and no one, no matter how annoying or incompetent, can get you down.
Dad being OK really capped off a great weekend – Gareth and I just returned from our second wonderful one on Sunday night. Apart from being really put out by his insisting on holding the handrails on stairs and escalators (all those germs!!!!!!!), it was a great three days.
Took a half day on Thursday and caught the 3pm train to Kings Cross – unfortunately, our seats were on the wrong side of the train so we couldn’t watch the coast go by, but we had fun fiddling about with the videocam and eating Mini-Eggs. One stuck-up auntie kept looking at us – probably jealous that she had to squeeze her biggish arse next to someone else and was facing backwards, whereas we had an entire table to ourselves. But alas, we had to give up our cushy seats at York when almost an entire trainload piled on after their train was cancelled. Ah well. It was good while it lasted!
Kings Cross was less grotty than I remembered it – the last time I was there was 2006 when the folks came over – probably due to the lack of boards and works going on. Our hotel, the Jesmond Dene, was just two minutes away across Euston Road on Argyle Street. Very cosy, warm and welcoming Georgian townhouse – bedroom a bit small (double bed was a foot short, I’m sure of it) and no en-suite but came with breakfast. Everything excellent value and clean showers (extremely important when you’ve forgotten your flip-flops). Certainly recommend it.
Went back out and checked out St Pancras – it really is an amazing building. The neo-Gothic façade is just spectacularly overwrought and the inside has this lovely airy spaciousness. Think we both went a bit mental when we saw there was a Neuhaus store there as well… but we were very good and refrained from stuffing our faces. Found a wee Japanese restaurant, Mai Sushi, by accident – while Gareth got his bottle of water at WH Smith, I sneaked a peek at the Time Out London and found Swizz Szechuan on Chalton Street, which really appealed to me. However, when we got there, it was quite packed and the menu didn’t look all that appetizing – but there was Mai Sushi across the street. Went back through Kings Cross and became the proud owners of an Oyster card each.
We hit the London Eye first thing on Friday and although London at our feet was a visual feast, it made me feel a bit sad that I hadn’t experienced it sooner. I just felt like it was… meh. Another tourist attraction. Ditto the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. I was so overwhelmed when I saw them for the first time in 1996 – on Friday, it was just… Huh. OK. Houses of Parliament. Like I’ve said before – travel doesn’t seem to excite me any more. I wonder if I can get therapy for this, do mental exercises to get myself psyched up about places and sights and adventures again. We then walked down the Victoria Embankment to Charing Cross, where I had hoped to surprise Gareth with Davenport’s magic shop, but dang it, he’d been there before. So we hopped on the tube at Embankment to the Natural History Museum.
Now the NHM is a place I’ve always wanted to visit. Well, at least I did until all this enthusiasm drained out of me a few years ago. If I’d visited even just five years ago, I would have gone absolutely bonkers. Wow! Wow! Cool! I love it! OH MY GOD! Oooh… (mental orgasm there). As it was on Friday, it was more, hmmm yeah, nice. I would have been photographing everything, from the diplodocus in the entrance hall to the stuffed hummingbirds, and worrying if there was enough time to take it all in. But it just wasn’t awe-inspiring enough, through no fault of its own (and I greatly fear nothing will be any more for me). But there was no time to worry; it was getting on for lunch, which was horribly expensive at the NHM, and such small portions – but we made up for it that night when we went back to Mai (Japanese food is turning out to be a standard highlight of our trips these days).
We started our NHM tour proper post-lunch with the Earth Galleries. I loved the fossils, especially the ones of the plesiosaurs and the dolphin-like ichthyosaurs. The cast of the archaeopteryx found in Germany got my heart racing too – such a famous fossil. And the giant crocodile skull was amazing. As big as I am tall! Checked out the Creepy-Crawlies and mammals before going for tea (another regular feature of our trips), then nipped in early into the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition. Really enjoyed that. Some astounding images. Made me very jealous. Also went in early to the Darwin exhibition, which celebrated the 200th year of his birth. It was surprisingly entertaining and informative – the “mouth on legs” frog was funny. Both well worth the entrance tickets for the amount we learnt. (Didn’t know it was finches that got Darwin thinking about evolution.) Went back to Victoria Embankment afterwards, primarily for me to take shots of the London Eye at night, then went back to the hotel. Very sore feet.
The next morning, we found ourselves stuck at Kings Cross – Saturday at 9.30am is SO not a good time – when we discovered our Oyster credit had all but been spent getting around. So we waited in line to top it up – the queues were unbelievable. When we finally got past them, the first place we zoomed off to was the British Museum – site of my first mental orgasm. As usual, it didn’t do anything for me. Nothing does any more. As I told Gareth, I think I need a kid to get myself excited about these things again. See the world through the eyes of a child, and enjoying introducing its wonders. Perhaps that is one way to be refreshed. (No, that is NOT a hint.) Just that you know you’re getting blasé and jaded when you go to the bloody British Museum, and you aren’t instantly filled with this uncontrollable urge to tear around and see the looted wonders of the ancient world in all their magnificence. One of the world’s greatest museums, one of the richest repositories of archaeological treasures, and all I could think of was, gee, my feet are sore, and oooh is that a raspberry tart? That was just so depressing, and such a contrast to the first time I was there, when I hardly saw anything for all the swooning – this time I didn’t see anything at all for the nonchalance.
Anyway, we dumped our bags at the museum (because we’re clever that way – didn’t want to lug them around London, and the lockers were free as well) and went to St Paul’s. Didn’t see anything of it – just walked around the gardens looking for directions to get to the Millennium Footbridge to the Tate Modern. Quite disappointed that it didn’t sway. Would have been quite an experience. The Tate Modern – can’t really comment on it as we only really saw the giant spider sculpture (which left me quite revolted after I saw the handball-sized white foam “eggs” under its body) before heading to Southwark Cathedral. I really enjoyed this bit of the day – didn’t really know about the cathedral before this nor read nor remembered much of what I’d read previously in Lonely Planet. It felt very much like other cathedrals, in the way of vaulted ceilings and arches, but what made it special was the choir singing in the back the whole time we were there. The acoustics were just superb – when I went round back I counted only 18 of them, but how the sound carried! Absolutely angelic harmony as well.
The Borough Market right next to the cathedral was another find. Couldn’t help thinking how much Mum would enjoy this place – must bring her here when they visit. The sights and smells were quite something – I really loved the buzz! Made me wish I had lots of money to spend – the place gave me a serious case of greedy eyes. Oysters on the shell, with a twist of lemon and Tabasco; fresh fruit smoothies; all manner of cold meats and cheeses; sweets and pastries (felt a bit like the Egyptian spice market in Istanbul – all those free Turkish delights); tons of fish and vegetables (one stall was dedicated to just mushrooms – mmmm!); and that huge black steaming wok of paella! It left me feeling extremely hungry and wishing I had four stomachs. Then headed back to the British Museum, where we had some nibblies and tea, collected our bags and hopped on a Chiltern Railways train to Beaconsfield, where Chris picked us up – it was Shelley’s birthday and the food was great (first time we had meatloaf) but the house was even better. To be £200,000 in debt over an enormous four-bedroom house with front and back gardens in the very middle English commuter belt is not a bad financial situation to be in.
On Sunday we came back up after lunch at the Crown in Amersham, and once again, were on the wrong side of the train (bah!) and had the table to ourselves most of the journey. A very perasan guy who got on at York kept placing a sheaf of papers rather strategically on the table, in all likelihood trying to show that he had made it as a contestant onto “A Question of Genius”. Didn’t have to feign disinterest. Got beef curry in a tin from M&S and was very impressed when I had it with pasta – it tasted just like Yeo’s back home. Called home, said a little prayer for Dad with Gareth, had a fitful sleep – then woke up to the good news.
The other nice thing to happen on Monday was that I interviewed Stuart MacBride, who not only seems like a very genial sort of chap, but a very humorous one as well. Made me want to head to the nearest Waterstone’s and get a copy of his latest book. Doesn’t seem to take himself too seriously – I liked that he bothered to explain why he calls himself a “write-ist” as opposed to a writer, author or novelist. Too worthy, too intellectual, sounds like they know what they’re doing. Write-ist sounds like someone who is winging it and will be found out. I feel like that at work sometimes. Maybe I should start calling myself a report-ist.
On Friday, we are off to Mallaig for Wonderful Weekend Number Three on the top-rated train journey in the world (beating even the almighty Trans-Siberian and the Cuzco-Puno and Cuzco-Macchu Picchu lines). Will keep all cameras rolling.
Factoids of the Week:
The London Underground is the world’s oldest underground railway, and Baker Street is the world’s first tube station. It was also the first underground railway to operate electric trains.
The Underground runs on 400km of track and has 270 stations, and is the longest metro system in the world by route length.
The Angel station has the longest single escalator rise in western Europe.
The longest distance between two stations is 6.26km, between Chalfont & Latimer and Chesham on the Metropolitan line. The longest distance between two underground stations is between Caledonian Road and Kings Cross St Pancras on the Piccadilly line.
The shortest distance between two stations is 100m, between Charing Cross and Embankment. (We know, we walked it!)
Waterloo is the station with the most escalators – currently 25.
This post should really have preceded the previous one, but I hadn’t got round to writing it before I got the news that made me so glad and relieved. It’s just cascading happiness around here just now – getting news like that just makes everything pale in significance, and nothing and no one, no matter how annoying or incompetent, can get you down.
Dad being OK really capped off a great weekend – Gareth and I just returned from our second wonderful one on Sunday night. Apart from being really put out by his insisting on holding the handrails on stairs and escalators (all those germs!!!!!!!), it was a great three days.
Took a half day on Thursday and caught the 3pm train to Kings Cross – unfortunately, our seats were on the wrong side of the train so we couldn’t watch the coast go by, but we had fun fiddling about with the videocam and eating Mini-Eggs. One stuck-up auntie kept looking at us – probably jealous that she had to squeeze her biggish arse next to someone else and was facing backwards, whereas we had an entire table to ourselves. But alas, we had to give up our cushy seats at York when almost an entire trainload piled on after their train was cancelled. Ah well. It was good while it lasted!
Kings Cross was less grotty than I remembered it – the last time I was there was 2006 when the folks came over – probably due to the lack of boards and works going on. Our hotel, the Jesmond Dene, was just two minutes away across Euston Road on Argyle Street. Very cosy, warm and welcoming Georgian townhouse – bedroom a bit small (double bed was a foot short, I’m sure of it) and no en-suite but came with breakfast. Everything excellent value and clean showers (extremely important when you’ve forgotten your flip-flops). Certainly recommend it.
Went back out and checked out St Pancras – it really is an amazing building. The neo-Gothic façade is just spectacularly overwrought and the inside has this lovely airy spaciousness. Think we both went a bit mental when we saw there was a Neuhaus store there as well… but we were very good and refrained from stuffing our faces. Found a wee Japanese restaurant, Mai Sushi, by accident – while Gareth got his bottle of water at WH Smith, I sneaked a peek at the Time Out London and found Swizz Szechuan on Chalton Street, which really appealed to me. However, when we got there, it was quite packed and the menu didn’t look all that appetizing – but there was Mai Sushi across the street. Went back through Kings Cross and became the proud owners of an Oyster card each.
We hit the London Eye first thing on Friday and although London at our feet was a visual feast, it made me feel a bit sad that I hadn’t experienced it sooner. I just felt like it was… meh. Another tourist attraction. Ditto the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. I was so overwhelmed when I saw them for the first time in 1996 – on Friday, it was just… Huh. OK. Houses of Parliament. Like I’ve said before – travel doesn’t seem to excite me any more. I wonder if I can get therapy for this, do mental exercises to get myself psyched up about places and sights and adventures again. We then walked down the Victoria Embankment to Charing Cross, where I had hoped to surprise Gareth with Davenport’s magic shop, but dang it, he’d been there before. So we hopped on the tube at Embankment to the Natural History Museum.
Now the NHM is a place I’ve always wanted to visit. Well, at least I did until all this enthusiasm drained out of me a few years ago. If I’d visited even just five years ago, I would have gone absolutely bonkers. Wow! Wow! Cool! I love it! OH MY GOD! Oooh… (mental orgasm there). As it was on Friday, it was more, hmmm yeah, nice. I would have been photographing everything, from the diplodocus in the entrance hall to the stuffed hummingbirds, and worrying if there was enough time to take it all in. But it just wasn’t awe-inspiring enough, through no fault of its own (and I greatly fear nothing will be any more for me). But there was no time to worry; it was getting on for lunch, which was horribly expensive at the NHM, and such small portions – but we made up for it that night when we went back to Mai (Japanese food is turning out to be a standard highlight of our trips these days).
We started our NHM tour proper post-lunch with the Earth Galleries. I loved the fossils, especially the ones of the plesiosaurs and the dolphin-like ichthyosaurs. The cast of the archaeopteryx found in Germany got my heart racing too – such a famous fossil. And the giant crocodile skull was amazing. As big as I am tall! Checked out the Creepy-Crawlies and mammals before going for tea (another regular feature of our trips), then nipped in early into the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition. Really enjoyed that. Some astounding images. Made me very jealous. Also went in early to the Darwin exhibition, which celebrated the 200th year of his birth. It was surprisingly entertaining and informative – the “mouth on legs” frog was funny. Both well worth the entrance tickets for the amount we learnt. (Didn’t know it was finches that got Darwin thinking about evolution.) Went back to Victoria Embankment afterwards, primarily for me to take shots of the London Eye at night, then went back to the hotel. Very sore feet.
The next morning, we found ourselves stuck at Kings Cross – Saturday at 9.30am is SO not a good time – when we discovered our Oyster credit had all but been spent getting around. So we waited in line to top it up – the queues were unbelievable. When we finally got past them, the first place we zoomed off to was the British Museum – site of my first mental orgasm. As usual, it didn’t do anything for me. Nothing does any more. As I told Gareth, I think I need a kid to get myself excited about these things again. See the world through the eyes of a child, and enjoying introducing its wonders. Perhaps that is one way to be refreshed. (No, that is NOT a hint.) Just that you know you’re getting blasé and jaded when you go to the bloody British Museum, and you aren’t instantly filled with this uncontrollable urge to tear around and see the looted wonders of the ancient world in all their magnificence. One of the world’s greatest museums, one of the richest repositories of archaeological treasures, and all I could think of was, gee, my feet are sore, and oooh is that a raspberry tart? That was just so depressing, and such a contrast to the first time I was there, when I hardly saw anything for all the swooning – this time I didn’t see anything at all for the nonchalance.
Anyway, we dumped our bags at the museum (because we’re clever that way – didn’t want to lug them around London, and the lockers were free as well) and went to St Paul’s. Didn’t see anything of it – just walked around the gardens looking for directions to get to the Millennium Footbridge to the Tate Modern. Quite disappointed that it didn’t sway. Would have been quite an experience. The Tate Modern – can’t really comment on it as we only really saw the giant spider sculpture (which left me quite revolted after I saw the handball-sized white foam “eggs” under its body) before heading to Southwark Cathedral. I really enjoyed this bit of the day – didn’t really know about the cathedral before this nor read nor remembered much of what I’d read previously in Lonely Planet. It felt very much like other cathedrals, in the way of vaulted ceilings and arches, but what made it special was the choir singing in the back the whole time we were there. The acoustics were just superb – when I went round back I counted only 18 of them, but how the sound carried! Absolutely angelic harmony as well.
The Borough Market right next to the cathedral was another find. Couldn’t help thinking how much Mum would enjoy this place – must bring her here when they visit. The sights and smells were quite something – I really loved the buzz! Made me wish I had lots of money to spend – the place gave me a serious case of greedy eyes. Oysters on the shell, with a twist of lemon and Tabasco; fresh fruit smoothies; all manner of cold meats and cheeses; sweets and pastries (felt a bit like the Egyptian spice market in Istanbul – all those free Turkish delights); tons of fish and vegetables (one stall was dedicated to just mushrooms – mmmm!); and that huge black steaming wok of paella! It left me feeling extremely hungry and wishing I had four stomachs. Then headed back to the British Museum, where we had some nibblies and tea, collected our bags and hopped on a Chiltern Railways train to Beaconsfield, where Chris picked us up – it was Shelley’s birthday and the food was great (first time we had meatloaf) but the house was even better. To be £200,000 in debt over an enormous four-bedroom house with front and back gardens in the very middle English commuter belt is not a bad financial situation to be in.
On Sunday we came back up after lunch at the Crown in Amersham, and once again, were on the wrong side of the train (bah!) and had the table to ourselves most of the journey. A very perasan guy who got on at York kept placing a sheaf of papers rather strategically on the table, in all likelihood trying to show that he had made it as a contestant onto “A Question of Genius”. Didn’t have to feign disinterest. Got beef curry in a tin from M&S and was very impressed when I had it with pasta – it tasted just like Yeo’s back home. Called home, said a little prayer for Dad with Gareth, had a fitful sleep – then woke up to the good news.
The other nice thing to happen on Monday was that I interviewed Stuart MacBride, who not only seems like a very genial sort of chap, but a very humorous one as well. Made me want to head to the nearest Waterstone’s and get a copy of his latest book. Doesn’t seem to take himself too seriously – I liked that he bothered to explain why he calls himself a “write-ist” as opposed to a writer, author or novelist. Too worthy, too intellectual, sounds like they know what they’re doing. Write-ist sounds like someone who is winging it and will be found out. I feel like that at work sometimes. Maybe I should start calling myself a report-ist.
On Friday, we are off to Mallaig for Wonderful Weekend Number Three on the top-rated train journey in the world (beating even the almighty Trans-Siberian and the Cuzco-Puno and Cuzco-Macchu Picchu lines). Will keep all cameras rolling.
Factoids of the Week:
The London Underground is the world’s oldest underground railway, and Baker Street is the world’s first tube station. It was also the first underground railway to operate electric trains.
The Underground runs on 400km of track and has 270 stations, and is the longest metro system in the world by route length.
The Angel station has the longest single escalator rise in western Europe.
The longest distance between two stations is 6.26km, between Chalfont & Latimer and Chesham on the Metropolitan line. The longest distance between two underground stations is between Caledonian Road and Kings Cross St Pancras on the Piccadilly line.
The shortest distance between two stations is 100m, between Charing Cross and Embankment. (We know, we walked it!)
Waterloo is the station with the most escalators – currently 25.
Monday, March 02, 2009
And again I say rejoice!
Book of the Week: See previous post.
Today I got the news I have wanted, but was always afraid I wouldn’t get, ever since the morning of November 26. Dad is now officially in the Big R. No new lesions. No new growths. No anything. All Clear. I am so grateful and I am so happy. I know it’s early days yet but to hear this at the first scan post-op is tremendous and such a boost. I am sure it’s not just the family who are rejoicing and relieved, I know for a fact that there are so many, many dear friends out there and back home, who have been praying hard all this time, giving thanks as well. Thank you, Lord. Thank you, all.
Factoids of the Week:
One in three of us will be affected by cancer during our life. We’ve already been directly affected twice. I don’t ever want to have to do it again, or wish it on anyone.
One in every nine women will develop breast cancer at some point in her life; more than 45,000 cases are diagnosed every year, or around 125 a day. It is the most common cancer in the UK and the leading cause of death for women aged 34 to 54.
Every year, 300 men in the UK are diagnosed with breast cancer.
Lung cancer is the most commonly diagnosed cancer in the world. In the UK, it is the second most-frequently occurring cancer, accounting for one in seven new cases, with nine of out 10 linked to smoking.
Bowel cancer, also known as colon, colorectal or rectal cancer, is the third most common cancer in the UK.
Today I got the news I have wanted, but was always afraid I wouldn’t get, ever since the morning of November 26. Dad is now officially in the Big R. No new lesions. No new growths. No anything. All Clear. I am so grateful and I am so happy. I know it’s early days yet but to hear this at the first scan post-op is tremendous and such a boost. I am sure it’s not just the family who are rejoicing and relieved, I know for a fact that there are so many, many dear friends out there and back home, who have been praying hard all this time, giving thanks as well. Thank you, Lord. Thank you, all.
Factoids of the Week:
One in three of us will be affected by cancer during our life. We’ve already been directly affected twice. I don’t ever want to have to do it again, or wish it on anyone.
One in every nine women will develop breast cancer at some point in her life; more than 45,000 cases are diagnosed every year, or around 125 a day. It is the most common cancer in the UK and the leading cause of death for women aged 34 to 54.
Every year, 300 men in the UK are diagnosed with breast cancer.
Lung cancer is the most commonly diagnosed cancer in the world. In the UK, it is the second most-frequently occurring cancer, accounting for one in seven new cases, with nine of out 10 linked to smoking.
Bowel cancer, also known as colon, colorectal or rectal cancer, is the third most common cancer in the UK.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Fabulous February
Book of the Week: Watchmen by Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons (OK, not really a book so much as a graphic novel... but at least I’m reading!)
Wow. Nearly the end of February already. It’s true then – time really does fly when you’re having fun. Or get old(er).
Let’s see – it’s been a pretty good month. I became an aunt (again) – Jo’s kid Arianna was born on January 30. Looks just like her dad from the photos. Though when she squints she kinda looks like her mum. Made me feel all broody. Some day we’ll see Mishmish. I hope.
On the same night, on this side of the world, Gareth and I went to see Sandi Thom at the Carnegie Hall. We had listened to Smile, It Confuses People during two weeks of driving around Kiwiland in 2007, but I honestly could not remember anything besides I Wish I Was A Punk Rocker (which I thought was Punk Rock Girl for ages – just the emphasis, I guess). We had a great time, even if I did come out a little deaf. Catchy tune upon catchy tune, and after the gig we listened to the CD all the way home. No, repetition doesn’t always bore us.
Had new PCs and story filing/editing system installed on February 12. Was really a) pleased because no longer have to endure embarrassment by not being able to access information prior to interviews; b) pissed off because installation was done on our work time, as opposed to doing it after working hours, which led to c) even more pissed-offness, because Mr Big made us all come back in on Saturday to “make up for Thursday”. And when it came around, he was in for just the half day. Just as well we hadn’t made any plans for Valentine’s Day. Luckily, didn’t miss much of the England-Wales match either.
Next day, went into Stirling and got a bunch of new winter clothes at Mountain Warehouse and Tiso (mostly for myself) before going into Glasgow for a wee taster of what lay ahead the coming weekend. Got a congratulatory card for Jo, picked up tickets for Religulous at the Glasgow Film Theatre, picked our way along Sauchiehall Street (actually most of it was in Jessops checking out digital SLRs), saw The Strange Case of Benjamin Button at Cineworld, hit Wagamama for dinner, went to Borders for a good sexy browse, went back to Wagamama because had left card behind on table, before rounding off the day with Religulous. It was all right. A few good jokes, but as ever, the Jews and Christians made easy targets. Would like to have seen Bill Maher asking the imams about taqqiya... or a few really hard-hitting questions about Muhammad’s personal life. Starting with getting married to a six-year-old.
On Friday, we started the first of our four Wonderful Weekends, which we will have on the trot throughout February and March. Went through to Glasgow after work and hung out in Borders while waiting for Gareth to finish his movie with Graeme. We then went to Wagamama (again!) for a late dinner – lovely yasai chilli men (for me) and yasai laksa thingy (for him). Checked into Travelodge Braehead (£80 for two nights, a steal) where we finally went to bed at... must have been 2am before we fell asleep.
Next morning, went for breakfast at Braehead Centre (big ham and mushroom pancake for me) and got a pair of gloves each (I also got a free bottle of contact lens fluid from the nice man at Optical Express – must have been my dazzling good looks) before heading to Xscape. WHOO!!! Real “fake” snow! It was great! I couldn’t wait to get going. Unfortunately my excitement was tempered some by having to wait around for someone to take us onto the slopes. But someone finally did turn up at exactly 11.15am – and even then Gareth and I couldn’t jump in right away because we didn’t have right-sized helmets on... bah. Curse of the squiffy heeds.
But after that it was all systems go. Was a bit worried as I jumped into an ice slide for the first time – could see myself crashing into the wooden sideboards and meeting the same sort of end as Dracula – but man, it was cool! In more ways than one – we both got snow into our shoes, up our pants, on our bums... honestly, it got everywhere. The only thing we didn’t enjoy about it was the dip right before crashing into the foam blocks. And crashing into the foam blocks, come to think of it. Newton’s Third Law of Motion. After about half a dozen gos at manoeuvering, I finally got the hang of How Not To Get Whiplash by trying as best as possible to hit the wall side-on first.
After our 45 minutes were up, we had barely time to catch our breath before we went on the sledging. Oh wow. So much fun. Gareth had always talked about taking me sledging down Cockleroy but now that we live on the other side of the water, that seems a bit far away. If you’re going to risk quadraplegia zooming down a slippery slope at 30mph, you might as well do it close to home. That’s why we went 50 miles out. The sledging area itself wasn’t that amazing, maybe a 10-degree, 50m-long slope – but the rush came from trying to dodge other sledgers and not run over three-year-old tots (who, in addition to not being able to steer very well, were also, due to Newton’s Second Law of Motion, going like grannies on a B-road).
Just about sprinted back to the Travelodge to get changed into fresh clothes – I was paranoid that my socks would be frozen to my ankles and the paramedics would peel off a swathe of skin as they sliced the wool off – but we did get a fantastic cardio workout, what with all the climbing up slopes. Went back to Xscape for lunch (a superb garlic prawn farfalle for me – or to give it its proper Wild West Weegie name, “bowtie pasta”) before thawing our bums out at Paradise Golf, where I scored my first hole-in-one in my first game of miniature golf. We were both really pegged out by 4pm, so chilled out with some hot chocolate and apple and raspberry crumble before heading back to the Travelodge for a power nap before dinner. Still couldn’t feel our bums at that point. Mental note: must get proper snow/ski pants.
Mile-long traffic jam on M8 on our way in but made our 6.30pm appointment at Borders, went to Nanakusa (had been agitating for a Japanese all day despite the visit to Wagamama the previous night – or maybe I just needed a massive noodle fix) where I had a massive, but very daintily presented, plate of sushi (it came on a “bridge”). Went back to Odeon the second week in a row to watch Hush – I think Mum and Dad would probably enjoy it, but it just annoyed me, with all its “thriller-horror” cliches. Right twat of a hero, scary old house, planted backstabber... all the typical plot twists.
Lazy Sunday morning fry-up at a Wetherspoons on Sauchiehall Street before hitting Mountain Warehouse (acting on mental note) and Borders again. Lovely roast beef and Yorkshire pudding dinner in Clackmannan on way home. All in all, it was the near-perfect weekend – just those draggy loose bits of thread on the edge of Gareth’s jeans drove me mental. Walked ahead of him all day so I didn’t have to see them if I happened to look down.
Weather-wise it’s been a better winter than usual. It snowed a few times in January – very happy – though couldn’t enjoy it as much as I would have liked despite staying home because I was feeling absolutely crap. It snowed the night we came home from Religulous so I put on my new winter clothes and went out for a gambol. Also enjoying the longer days – glad not to wake up/go to work/come home in the dark. The really good programmes on TV are helping as well – am really enjoying Being Human to the point where I caught myself thinking, I wish the box set were out already so I could just watch it all at a go.
On the career front – resolve building by the hour now to quit job. Already at that point in my life where I don’t want to waste time on anything that makes me pissed off, miserable or generally feeling all-round negative. Getting really annoyed with work, people at work, system at work – it’s been a right crappy two weeks. The new filing/editing system is driving everyone up the wall - everything takes three times as long (never trust an programme where you can’t copy and paste). Of course, can’t really do anything until visa is sorted (and all the process leading up to THAT entails). Gareth saw a job for press officer at CHAS... let’s hope offers like those are still around in two months.
In the meantime, we plan to make the most of now. (Hmmm... where have I heard that tagline before?) Tomorrow I’m doing a half-day then we’re off to London for the second of our Wonderful Weekends. Can’t wait. We’ve never done it together so really looking forward to it.
Factoids of the Week:
Watched University Challenge this week and have been well impressed by Gail Trimble – very annoying how so many people over here have shot her down. What is wrong with being educated? Knowing stuff? Why in the name of all that is holy (and intelligence is one of them), is intellectual superiority vilified, and ignorance championed? She’s doing a PhD in Latin at Oxford following her first-class honours degree, scored 11As in GCSEs (10 of which were A*) and four As at A-level, for crying out loud - if we had anyone like her on a University Challenge in Malaysia (where no doubt the teams would be all Chinese if contestants were chosen on merit), she would be lauded, offered scholarships, have odes composed celebrating her accomplishments. So this week’s selection is in her honour. She’s smart enough not to let the airhead-worshipping snipes get to her – they can make all the comments she wants about her appearance, because she can lose weight, shave her legs and/or get new boobs, but they’ll still be stupid. You can’t get a brain transplant, after all.
Measure for Measure is the only Shakespearean play set in Vienna.
Leiden, home to the Netherlands’ oldest university, also gave its name to the leyden jar, an early form of capacitor.
The taco terrier is a cross between a toy fox terrier and a chihuahua and originated in Mexico.
In botany the term “etiolated” describes the appearance of a plant which has developed without or been deprived of light.
Hilaire Belloc’s Matilda and Charles Dickens’s Miss Havisham both died in fires.
The four-field rotation of crops adopted in the agricultural revolution and popularised by Charles Townsend involved the successive planting of barley or oats, clover or rye, wheat and turnips.
Wow. Nearly the end of February already. It’s true then – time really does fly when you’re having fun. Or get old(er).
Let’s see – it’s been a pretty good month. I became an aunt (again) – Jo’s kid Arianna was born on January 30. Looks just like her dad from the photos. Though when she squints she kinda looks like her mum. Made me feel all broody. Some day we’ll see Mishmish. I hope.
On the same night, on this side of the world, Gareth and I went to see Sandi Thom at the Carnegie Hall. We had listened to Smile, It Confuses People during two weeks of driving around Kiwiland in 2007, but I honestly could not remember anything besides I Wish I Was A Punk Rocker (which I thought was Punk Rock Girl for ages – just the emphasis, I guess). We had a great time, even if I did come out a little deaf. Catchy tune upon catchy tune, and after the gig we listened to the CD all the way home. No, repetition doesn’t always bore us.
Had new PCs and story filing/editing system installed on February 12. Was really a) pleased because no longer have to endure embarrassment by not being able to access information prior to interviews; b) pissed off because installation was done on our work time, as opposed to doing it after working hours, which led to c) even more pissed-offness, because Mr Big made us all come back in on Saturday to “make up for Thursday”. And when it came around, he was in for just the half day. Just as well we hadn’t made any plans for Valentine’s Day. Luckily, didn’t miss much of the England-Wales match either.
Next day, went into Stirling and got a bunch of new winter clothes at Mountain Warehouse and Tiso (mostly for myself) before going into Glasgow for a wee taster of what lay ahead the coming weekend. Got a congratulatory card for Jo, picked up tickets for Religulous at the Glasgow Film Theatre, picked our way along Sauchiehall Street (actually most of it was in Jessops checking out digital SLRs), saw The Strange Case of Benjamin Button at Cineworld, hit Wagamama for dinner, went to Borders for a good sexy browse, went back to Wagamama because had left card behind on table, before rounding off the day with Religulous. It was all right. A few good jokes, but as ever, the Jews and Christians made easy targets. Would like to have seen Bill Maher asking the imams about taqqiya... or a few really hard-hitting questions about Muhammad’s personal life. Starting with getting married to a six-year-old.
On Friday, we started the first of our four Wonderful Weekends, which we will have on the trot throughout February and March. Went through to Glasgow after work and hung out in Borders while waiting for Gareth to finish his movie with Graeme. We then went to Wagamama (again!) for a late dinner – lovely yasai chilli men (for me) and yasai laksa thingy (for him). Checked into Travelodge Braehead (£80 for two nights, a steal) where we finally went to bed at... must have been 2am before we fell asleep.
Next morning, went for breakfast at Braehead Centre (big ham and mushroom pancake for me) and got a pair of gloves each (I also got a free bottle of contact lens fluid from the nice man at Optical Express – must have been my dazzling good looks) before heading to Xscape. WHOO!!! Real “fake” snow! It was great! I couldn’t wait to get going. Unfortunately my excitement was tempered some by having to wait around for someone to take us onto the slopes. But someone finally did turn up at exactly 11.15am – and even then Gareth and I couldn’t jump in right away because we didn’t have right-sized helmets on... bah. Curse of the squiffy heeds.
But after that it was all systems go. Was a bit worried as I jumped into an ice slide for the first time – could see myself crashing into the wooden sideboards and meeting the same sort of end as Dracula – but man, it was cool! In more ways than one – we both got snow into our shoes, up our pants, on our bums... honestly, it got everywhere. The only thing we didn’t enjoy about it was the dip right before crashing into the foam blocks. And crashing into the foam blocks, come to think of it. Newton’s Third Law of Motion. After about half a dozen gos at manoeuvering, I finally got the hang of How Not To Get Whiplash by trying as best as possible to hit the wall side-on first.
After our 45 minutes were up, we had barely time to catch our breath before we went on the sledging. Oh wow. So much fun. Gareth had always talked about taking me sledging down Cockleroy but now that we live on the other side of the water, that seems a bit far away. If you’re going to risk quadraplegia zooming down a slippery slope at 30mph, you might as well do it close to home. That’s why we went 50 miles out. The sledging area itself wasn’t that amazing, maybe a 10-degree, 50m-long slope – but the rush came from trying to dodge other sledgers and not run over three-year-old tots (who, in addition to not being able to steer very well, were also, due to Newton’s Second Law of Motion, going like grannies on a B-road).
Just about sprinted back to the Travelodge to get changed into fresh clothes – I was paranoid that my socks would be frozen to my ankles and the paramedics would peel off a swathe of skin as they sliced the wool off – but we did get a fantastic cardio workout, what with all the climbing up slopes. Went back to Xscape for lunch (a superb garlic prawn farfalle for me – or to give it its proper Wild West Weegie name, “bowtie pasta”) before thawing our bums out at Paradise Golf, where I scored my first hole-in-one in my first game of miniature golf. We were both really pegged out by 4pm, so chilled out with some hot chocolate and apple and raspberry crumble before heading back to the Travelodge for a power nap before dinner. Still couldn’t feel our bums at that point. Mental note: must get proper snow/ski pants.
Mile-long traffic jam on M8 on our way in but made our 6.30pm appointment at Borders, went to Nanakusa (had been agitating for a Japanese all day despite the visit to Wagamama the previous night – or maybe I just needed a massive noodle fix) where I had a massive, but very daintily presented, plate of sushi (it came on a “bridge”). Went back to Odeon the second week in a row to watch Hush – I think Mum and Dad would probably enjoy it, but it just annoyed me, with all its “thriller-horror” cliches. Right twat of a hero, scary old house, planted backstabber... all the typical plot twists.
Lazy Sunday morning fry-up at a Wetherspoons on Sauchiehall Street before hitting Mountain Warehouse (acting on mental note) and Borders again. Lovely roast beef and Yorkshire pudding dinner in Clackmannan on way home. All in all, it was the near-perfect weekend – just those draggy loose bits of thread on the edge of Gareth’s jeans drove me mental. Walked ahead of him all day so I didn’t have to see them if I happened to look down.
Weather-wise it’s been a better winter than usual. It snowed a few times in January – very happy – though couldn’t enjoy it as much as I would have liked despite staying home because I was feeling absolutely crap. It snowed the night we came home from Religulous so I put on my new winter clothes and went out for a gambol. Also enjoying the longer days – glad not to wake up/go to work/come home in the dark. The really good programmes on TV are helping as well – am really enjoying Being Human to the point where I caught myself thinking, I wish the box set were out already so I could just watch it all at a go.
On the career front – resolve building by the hour now to quit job. Already at that point in my life where I don’t want to waste time on anything that makes me pissed off, miserable or generally feeling all-round negative. Getting really annoyed with work, people at work, system at work – it’s been a right crappy two weeks. The new filing/editing system is driving everyone up the wall - everything takes three times as long (never trust an programme where you can’t copy and paste). Of course, can’t really do anything until visa is sorted (and all the process leading up to THAT entails). Gareth saw a job for press officer at CHAS... let’s hope offers like those are still around in two months.
In the meantime, we plan to make the most of now. (Hmmm... where have I heard that tagline before?) Tomorrow I’m doing a half-day then we’re off to London for the second of our Wonderful Weekends. Can’t wait. We’ve never done it together so really looking forward to it.
Factoids of the Week:
Watched University Challenge this week and have been well impressed by Gail Trimble – very annoying how so many people over here have shot her down. What is wrong with being educated? Knowing stuff? Why in the name of all that is holy (and intelligence is one of them), is intellectual superiority vilified, and ignorance championed? She’s doing a PhD in Latin at Oxford following her first-class honours degree, scored 11As in GCSEs (10 of which were A*) and four As at A-level, for crying out loud - if we had anyone like her on a University Challenge in Malaysia (where no doubt the teams would be all Chinese if contestants were chosen on merit), she would be lauded, offered scholarships, have odes composed celebrating her accomplishments. So this week’s selection is in her honour. She’s smart enough not to let the airhead-worshipping snipes get to her – they can make all the comments she wants about her appearance, because she can lose weight, shave her legs and/or get new boobs, but they’ll still be stupid. You can’t get a brain transplant, after all.
Measure for Measure is the only Shakespearean play set in Vienna.
Leiden, home to the Netherlands’ oldest university, also gave its name to the leyden jar, an early form of capacitor.
The taco terrier is a cross between a toy fox terrier and a chihuahua and originated in Mexico.
In botany the term “etiolated” describes the appearance of a plant which has developed without or been deprived of light.
Hilaire Belloc’s Matilda and Charles Dickens’s Miss Havisham both died in fires.
The four-field rotation of crops adopted in the agricultural revolution and popularised by Charles Townsend involved the successive planting of barley or oats, clover or rye, wheat and turnips.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Welcome To My Worlds
Book of the Week: Anita and Me by Meera Syal
By some fortuitous alignment of both lunar and Gregorian calendars, we will simultaneously celebrate two days of significance two cultures today. Earlier this morning (i.e. night back home), my nearest and dearest on the other side of the world sat down to a scrumptious Malaysian-Chinese family dinner, as they have every year on Chinese New Year’s Eve. And later tonight, Gareth and I will sit down to our very own dinner, which will comprise haggis and mash with caramelised onions and mushrooms in honour of Burns Night.
It’s a meal that I look forward to (not just because Gareth makes the best mash in the world – I was torn between having bangers or haggis with it) and will hold much symbolism for me because tonight, my Chinese roots and heritage truly meet those of my adopted country. And it’s not just any Chinese New Year’s Eve or Burns Night we’re commemorating either: it’s the last day of the Year of the Golden Rat, and tonight marks the 250th anniversary of the Scottish Bard’s birth, the official start of Homecoming 2009. My only regret is that there won’t be anything Malaysian or Chinese on tonight’s menu. Maybe we can toss some five-spice powder or chilli into the mash…
It’s definitely a night worth celebrating. I discovered early on – my first trip to the UK to be exact – that people here can have incredibly outdated, stereotyped views of what it’s like to be non-white, and when I moved over here, got a lot of the same old stereotyped views from people back home of what life is like over here. Basically, at risk of overgeneralising it, the two worlds I live in don’t really know what life is like in the other, despite my attempts to explain it to them. Back home, they still think we only ever eat haggis over here and turkey is the main meal at Christmas. And there are people over here who are amazed (in a patronising kind of way) that I speak such good English. And that’s made me realise how lucky I am – that I am comfortable in both, fit into both (well, perhaps a little better in Malaysia) and love both. Maybe I don’t live enough of the intellectual life, but I just don’t get the whole crisis in exile and struggle for identity thing (see Shirley Lim). In fact, I think it’s a bit contrived. I’ve just finished reading Ireland by Frank Delaney and feel that’s how the subject should be addressed: the pride in what and where you come from and who that makes you.
I’m happy being who I am, with a foot in both hemispheres. I have wee linguistic nuances that I am barely aware of when I’m over here, but get pointed out to me when I’m back home (and vice-versa). I might be oversimplifying it, but I enjoy a good bowl of fishball noodle soup as much as I do cullen skink. I’ve got Gareth eating laksa and spouting Hokkien and lahs, and I’ve got my family (those without borderline diabetes anyway) hooked on the very best Dean’s shortbread. I don’t think I’ve lost any of my identity – in fact, I think living over here has enriched me in every sense, and I’m thankful for that. I’m always going to be a Malaysian Chinese girl, but tonight – tonight, I’m going to celebrate being Malaysian Chinese Scottish. I just wish my family could be here with me. Maybe next year Gareth will go home with me for Chinese New Year and we can have some haggis on the dinner table.
Happy Chinese New Year everyone, and Happy Burns Night!
Factoids of the Week:
The Chinese lunar calendar is believed to date from 2600BC when the Emperor Shih Huang Ti introduced the first cycle of the zodiac. A complete cycle, according to the Chinese calendar, takes 60 years and consists of five cycles (featuring one element) of 12 years (of 12 animals) each.
The 12 animals in the Chinese zodiac, in chronological order, are the rat, ox, tiger, rabbit, dragon, snake, horse, ram, monkey, rooster, dog and pig. The five elements are wood, fire, earth, metal and water.
Robert Burns is the only person outside the Royal family to feature on three special stamp issues. Royal Mail issued commemorative stamps in 1966 and 1996, and the latest edition went on sale on Thursday.
The Selkirk Arms in Kirkcudbright, reputed to be the birthplace of Burns’ Selkirk Grace, has put the poem on the lids of all its toilet seats. Nothing like a bit of reading in the loo, eh.
By some fortuitous alignment of both lunar and Gregorian calendars, we will simultaneously celebrate two days of significance two cultures today. Earlier this morning (i.e. night back home), my nearest and dearest on the other side of the world sat down to a scrumptious Malaysian-Chinese family dinner, as they have every year on Chinese New Year’s Eve. And later tonight, Gareth and I will sit down to our very own dinner, which will comprise haggis and mash with caramelised onions and mushrooms in honour of Burns Night.
It’s a meal that I look forward to (not just because Gareth makes the best mash in the world – I was torn between having bangers or haggis with it) and will hold much symbolism for me because tonight, my Chinese roots and heritage truly meet those of my adopted country. And it’s not just any Chinese New Year’s Eve or Burns Night we’re commemorating either: it’s the last day of the Year of the Golden Rat, and tonight marks the 250th anniversary of the Scottish Bard’s birth, the official start of Homecoming 2009. My only regret is that there won’t be anything Malaysian or Chinese on tonight’s menu. Maybe we can toss some five-spice powder or chilli into the mash…
It’s definitely a night worth celebrating. I discovered early on – my first trip to the UK to be exact – that people here can have incredibly outdated, stereotyped views of what it’s like to be non-white, and when I moved over here, got a lot of the same old stereotyped views from people back home of what life is like over here. Basically, at risk of overgeneralising it, the two worlds I live in don’t really know what life is like in the other, despite my attempts to explain it to them. Back home, they still think we only ever eat haggis over here and turkey is the main meal at Christmas. And there are people over here who are amazed (in a patronising kind of way) that I speak such good English. And that’s made me realise how lucky I am – that I am comfortable in both, fit into both (well, perhaps a little better in Malaysia) and love both. Maybe I don’t live enough of the intellectual life, but I just don’t get the whole crisis in exile and struggle for identity thing (see Shirley Lim). In fact, I think it’s a bit contrived. I’ve just finished reading Ireland by Frank Delaney and feel that’s how the subject should be addressed: the pride in what and where you come from and who that makes you.
I’m happy being who I am, with a foot in both hemispheres. I have wee linguistic nuances that I am barely aware of when I’m over here, but get pointed out to me when I’m back home (and vice-versa). I might be oversimplifying it, but I enjoy a good bowl of fishball noodle soup as much as I do cullen skink. I’ve got Gareth eating laksa and spouting Hokkien and lahs, and I’ve got my family (those without borderline diabetes anyway) hooked on the very best Dean’s shortbread. I don’t think I’ve lost any of my identity – in fact, I think living over here has enriched me in every sense, and I’m thankful for that. I’m always going to be a Malaysian Chinese girl, but tonight – tonight, I’m going to celebrate being Malaysian Chinese Scottish. I just wish my family could be here with me. Maybe next year Gareth will go home with me for Chinese New Year and we can have some haggis on the dinner table.
Happy Chinese New Year everyone, and Happy Burns Night!
Factoids of the Week:
The Chinese lunar calendar is believed to date from 2600BC when the Emperor Shih Huang Ti introduced the first cycle of the zodiac. A complete cycle, according to the Chinese calendar, takes 60 years and consists of five cycles (featuring one element) of 12 years (of 12 animals) each.
The 12 animals in the Chinese zodiac, in chronological order, are the rat, ox, tiger, rabbit, dragon, snake, horse, ram, monkey, rooster, dog and pig. The five elements are wood, fire, earth, metal and water.
Robert Burns is the only person outside the Royal family to feature on three special stamp issues. Royal Mail issued commemorative stamps in 1966 and 1996, and the latest edition went on sale on Thursday.
The Selkirk Arms in Kirkcudbright, reputed to be the birthplace of Burns’ Selkirk Grace, has put the poem on the lids of all its toilet seats. Nothing like a bit of reading in the loo, eh.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Start Of The Year Thoughts
Book of the Week: The Anubis Gates by Tim Powers
Went back to work today after nearly two weeks back home. I remember this time last year we had just booked our trip to Egypt, and I was getting really excited about going home to Malaysia for Chinese New Year. I remember being so happy when I saw Dad whistling to the birds in the trees and when I met up with so many of my former 5 Sc 1 classmates. I was also sad because it was our first Chinese New Year without Gua Ma. On the whole, the year started with so much promise. But it got a bit more depressing in the second half. We lost Dusty. Then came the week leading up to November 26. And the day before I went back to Malaysia, I felt like quitting my job on the spot after getting so pissed off.
This year’s started wonderfully so far – I spent the first 10 days back home, and what a celebration it was with the folks’ surprise ruby anniversary and Dad being on the mend. I really loved it, but it was good to come back to my other home here too, to Gareth. Before I went away, Gareth and I booked a week in New York in March, and we have a long weekend away in London at the end of February. We could still do the Mongol Rally. We might still go travelling for three months. I’m going to get an extension on my visa. And if Dad gets the news we all want to hear when he goes for his next appointment in February, it will be the most perfect year (not least because it will mean he and Mum will be coming over in August). In fact, I don’t think I could ask for any more – I would happily forgo all else if he gets the all-clear. I would be happy if I could see and hear him in the garden whistling to the birds in the trees like I did last year.
Factoids of the Week:
Not really read anything of interest of late. I probably stumbled across some good stuff in the LP New York guidebook...
Went back to work today after nearly two weeks back home. I remember this time last year we had just booked our trip to Egypt, and I was getting really excited about going home to Malaysia for Chinese New Year. I remember being so happy when I saw Dad whistling to the birds in the trees and when I met up with so many of my former 5 Sc 1 classmates. I was also sad because it was our first Chinese New Year without Gua Ma. On the whole, the year started with so much promise. But it got a bit more depressing in the second half. We lost Dusty. Then came the week leading up to November 26. And the day before I went back to Malaysia, I felt like quitting my job on the spot after getting so pissed off.
This year’s started wonderfully so far – I spent the first 10 days back home, and what a celebration it was with the folks’ surprise ruby anniversary and Dad being on the mend. I really loved it, but it was good to come back to my other home here too, to Gareth. Before I went away, Gareth and I booked a week in New York in March, and we have a long weekend away in London at the end of February. We could still do the Mongol Rally. We might still go travelling for three months. I’m going to get an extension on my visa. And if Dad gets the news we all want to hear when he goes for his next appointment in February, it will be the most perfect year (not least because it will mean he and Mum will be coming over in August). In fact, I don’t think I could ask for any more – I would happily forgo all else if he gets the all-clear. I would be happy if I could see and hear him in the garden whistling to the birds in the trees like I did last year.
Factoids of the Week:
Not really read anything of interest of late. I probably stumbled across some good stuff in the LP New York guidebook...
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Happy New Year
Not exactly the sort of New Year I would have hoped for (I prefer the hugs and cuddles and prolific displays of affection sort) but things can only get better. At least I go home in a bit. Happy New Year anyway. To better blog housekeeping, and, if I may look ahead, to the first day of 2010 being one spent together (REALLY together, not Separate Together) with plenty of I Love Yous.
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