Yikes

In the course of trying to understand the implications of the UK’s recent elections, I followed a link to a site about the British monarchy. Let’s just say that these people are not at all fans of the Windsors.

Australia’s unrelenting awesomeness

Australians are awesome, as long as you allow them to bring up Paul Hogan first (if ever) and avoid ordering Foster’s beer in front of them (or anywhere else, either; Foster’s: Australian for crap). Aside from containing awesome Aussies (who always seem to be traveling/visiting/living/working someplace else anyway), Australia also has great weather, at least from a North American standpoint. When we’re burning up during our summer, most of Oz is experiencing an awesome, snowy winter. When we can’t feel our fingers or toes, they’re on the beach in their swimsuits. But what’s going on in Australian during the rainy season that debuted in much of the North American East Coast this year? For that matter, what’s going on here? Why do we have four seasons, anyway?

Because the British said so, and apparently that’s good enough for us. I do find it strange that I never questioned this before. It’s been pretty clear for the last several years that the whole “winter-spring-summer-fall” model of weather isn’t the best at capturing exactly what seems to be happening around here, meteorologically speaking.

You know who’s not taking that British-mandated 4-season thing lying down? The Aussies. And maybe we should considered joining them in their stand against such a small number of out-moded, not descriptive enough seasons. Plus, more seasons = more end of the season sales. Everybody’s a winner.

Vacation Pictures!

Here are a some pictures from the places I visited on my vacation. If you click on the city names, you can see the entire set on Flickr. I have only a few shots from Birmingham, because I’ve been to England before and only took pictures at the concert.

Belfast:

Birmingham

Dublin:

Glendalough:

Belfast

So I’m having a pretty good time here in the UK. Northern Ireland is lovely, and it seems that I brought with me unexpectedly good weather. Lots of people commented to me how unusual the warm sunshine was. You’re welcome, Belfast.

For the most part, the people I met were awesome. A lot of them were really interested to hear that I was from the US and genuinely wanted to know what I thought of their fair city. Many expressed admiration and apprehension that I was on my own, and I felt like I’d traveled to a city of my own relatives. The first night, I met three older guys who showed me the local bars and told me all sorts of stuff I wouldn’t have learned otherwise. One wanted to grab dinner the next night, but I figured that it would be silly to tie myself up with the same parties two nights in a row, and nicely declined. A word of advice to anybody going to Belfast: eat early. I guess I was still in New York mode and thought that leaving my hotel room after 10 would give me time to grab food and hit the pubs, but that was absolutely not the case. I struck out at all the restaurants I saw, and was lucky to make it to McDonald’s before they, too, shut down for the night.

The next night, I learned my lesson and left to find food at 8:15 (and even that was too late to get food at some of the local pubs that served meals). I had a good dinner, went back to the hotel and watched Dollhouse and the first episode of Cupid (I’ll talk about that some time later), and then went to a couple of local bars. The people in the first weren’t really as outgoing, so I left after one drink and ended up talking with Ricky and Ian, two nice guys who work at the Belfast Telegraph. We chatted for a bit outside, but they were smoking cigarettes and I was kind of freezing, so I told them to find me when they came inside the bar.

As I sat waiting for them, this old, super drunk guy who was actually sleeping when I first walked by awakened and started mumbling to me. I have discovered that it is nearly impossible for me to understand a Belfast accent when the speaker is under the influence, so I gave him a vague smile, told him I was waiting for my friends, and went back to reading on my phone. He had just asked me to join him at his table when Ian and Ricky showed up. He scowled at us and all was well until about a half hour later, when the guys went to grab more beer and I stayed at the table. Then the drunken fossil asked me how much I would charge to go back to his home with him. At first I thought that I’d misunderstood, but he said it again and I realized that he thought I was a prostitute.

I was really hurt and wondered what I’d done to give him that impression. Later, I realized that being a single foreign woman alone in a bar, who then ended up sitting at a table and talking with two local men might give somebody the wrong impression, if that person was inclined to think like a pervert. But, while I realized it wasn’t worth disabusing him of his incorrect notion, I simply said no and decided not to stick around for the pitch. I went over to the guys at the bar and told them what the old dude had said. They were touchingly offended on my behalf, and when we got back to the table, the fossil kept yelling vulgar things at use. Ian, the cute one who looked like David Wright (he’s never really done it for me, but add an accent and I can start to understand the appeal) got up, looking pretty angry, and headed toward the old guy’s table, but Ricky stopped him from going over there, and we ignored the fossil after that.

We stayed at that bar until last call, then went to another one. On the way, I somehow managed to lose one of my pretty new dangly earrings, which made me sad. I pulled out the other one so I didn’t look deranged. Even though we went to another bar afterward, we got there after last call there, too, so I helped Ricky talk to a girl he found cute. Things were going well until she told him that she was 24 and he told her that she looked 28. It was not untrue, but that lost him major points, and it took him a while to recover his lost ground, and a lot of that was due to me. I guess I haven’t lost my touch and still make a pretty awesome wingman. The guys and I parted ways in the cab back to my hotel. I got out to find my earring and had no luck, but I went back out the next morning before leaving for the airport, and found it with no problem! It was a little crushed, but I think that it can be bent back into shape.

I had heard that there wasn’t a lot going on in Belfast, and I scheduled my vacation accordingly. If I’d known before booking how awesome Belfast is, and how relatively sedate Birmingham is in comparison, I probably would have spent 4 days in Belfast and only stopped over in Birmingham for the concert. I definitely intend to go back to Belfast and spend a lot more time there!

The first Jason Mraz concert is tonight, and I’m a bit worried. I’ve heard from a person who went to a concert in Brussels, and he said it was blah, and that’s exactly how one of the free London dailies described the Mraz concerts in London over the weekend. Maybe a day off will allow him to rev up and be on his A game for Birmingham. I’m keeping my fingers crossed!

Vacation all I ever wanted

I am 99% of the way finished with my socks, and I will absolutely NOT have to take them with me on vacation. I’ll be able to start blocking them before I leave for the airport, and I trust my mom enough to send them off after they’re dry. I’m bringing another pair of socks to work on while I’m away, but I’m not sure how much knitting I’ll get around to once I’m off the plane.

I’m going to be suffering at work for a few more hours (hey, I’m happy to have a job, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t find it annoying every now and then), and then I go home to take one more look at my suitcase (why do I feel the need to pack so many shirts? I will not appreciate that when I’m the one hauling that suitcase all over Ireland and the UK), and then I go the airport to make my way across the Atlantic. I’m so stoked!!! I haven’t been on a long-ish vacation since August, and this time I’m going by myself, so I’ll definitely get a chance to recharge my batteries.

I’m bringing my computer because I am a hopeless geek, but I’m not sure that I’ll be posting stuff to this site.