Harry Potter and the Very Expensive Beer

Last week I had a bit of a skive off work and we went to Universal Studios for the day.   We had gone there back in the summer and the lines were horrendous - including spending 1.5 hours in line for the Harry Potter ride, only to be told it had broken down [Grr…].  While we were there, we had decided to pay the extra $14 for our tickets to last a year.   It turns out their version of a ‘year’ is actually seven months (which included many, many black out dates), but whatever, we had great plans to use our tickets loads of times, so it would be a great deal.  As usual, that didn’t happen and we only had a couple of weeks left to use them, so off we went.

It was a Thursday, in the middle of a week of hellacious rain storms and we managed to get a day with no rain whatsoever.  The place was almost empty…. Brilliant!  I’m not going to do a post about how great the day was with the longest queue being only 10-15 minutes, although that was lovely. Nope, this one’s about Harry Potter. 

I’m not a big Harry Potter fan, by any means, I think I’ve seen all the films, but couldn’t tell you for sure.  But he’s English for goodness sake, so what’s not to like.    First up, is the obligatory picture of entering Harry Potter Land.  I will call it that because I have no idea what it’s actually called (see, I know nothing).

With all the hype and uproar over the place, you would think there would be more than two rides. Yup, only two and we went on both of them.  One of them, though, was so short I hadn’t even begun to scream before it was over.  I cannot imagine queuing up for over an hour for a 30 second ride.  I would have been so bloody fuming.  As it was, I hardly had time to catch my breath, it was that fast.

Then there’s Butterbeer.  What in the heck is this abomination?  Good grief, it was awful.  “It’s quite sweet,” they said.  “Try it frozen,” they said, “you will probably like it better.”  Ugh… it’s the sweetest drink I believe I’ve ever had in my entire life.  Pretty much a cup of sugar with a tiny tad of water and butterscotch flavouring.  Basically, its diabetes in a glass.  We shared one and couldn’t finish it.  Trust me, it’s the furthest thing from beer that you could ever imagine.  My recommendation would be to steer well clear and don’t waste your money.

Don't do it!!

But then we found the restaurant – the English restaurant no less.  The menu was tempting, although why it would be called a “Traditional English Breakfast” when it has breakfast potatoes, scrambled eggs and a flippin’ croissant, I don’t know.   It didn’t tempt me as I was sure the bacon was American streaky bacon.  As it was, I couldn’t decide between the Beef Sunday Roast (even though it was Thursday) and the Bangers & Mash.  It took me a minute and then I noticed the ‘roast potatoes’ were actually sliced and baked (possibly) with herbs, so definitely not your mother’s Sunday roast! Bangers & Mash it was, and to tell you the truth, it was pretty nice.  My only request would have been to have lashings of gravy on the mash when in fact, there was none.  (oh and that tomato was a bit dodgy and the peas were hard - but overall a good B)

Sausages - no gravy

The price was quite reasonable too…. That is, until we wanted drinks.  They didn't do a nice cup of tea, obviously so I went with the next best thing - beer!!  The other half had a water (lightweight), but we both needed a seat when they told us the prices.  $4.00 for a water, which is a bit steep, but I've probably paid more, to be honest.  As for the beer well…. I think they like it a bit much…. $11 for an IPA in a plastic cup, no less, not even a glass.  Maybe they’re charging English prices?

I don’t know, but it seemed a bit expensive to me, but I suppose that's what you expect at a tourist attraction, isn't it?  Then again, the more they charge, the less likely there will be drunken hooligans running around the park, unless they are really rich hooligans, that is!

That's a really tiny water

All in all though, it was a fantastic day and the bonus of a couple of bangers, which I wasn't expecting, was nice.  I may have sounded a bit negative about Harry Potter world earlier, but they've done a great job and it looks lovely with the sun shining.

Oh Blighty, how I miss you!  (Even pretend Blighty)

The Big Day

Ahh… so the wedding day arrived.

I thought the morning was going to be lovely and relaxing, a right old pampering day for me.  What was I thinking?  This is me, I know how the rest of the wedding planning went, and it wasn’t really smooth, was it?

Nope, no wedding morning bliss for me, we had to go shopping.  Not shopping for lacy undies and bridal accessories, the nice kind of shopping, but bloody groceries!  We had to find a Costco so we could pick up beers, cakes and anything else we had forgotten – all the necessary party stuff.  Yes, we could have gone there the night before but the other half had just driven three hours to Vegas and had a cold, so you know ... men. [*sigh*]

I also remembered I was responsible for decorating the suite.  Yes, we went all fancy and a got an actual suite – mainly because we were having the reception there and thought that having people squash into a normal room would be a bit tacky, what with not being able to swing a cat and the only actual sitting area being the bed.  So decorate I did….[You might see a theme here]

Yes, I went full on American/British.

Well that all got done and I did a bit of faffing around (as you do) and suddenly it was 2:00 p.m. Oops… I had to be at the chapel at 4:00 p.m. and there I was not showered, not thinking about getting ready and actually, not doing anything.  The ‘girls’ showed up and it was mass hysteria for a full on two hours!  Can you imagine, five women, one tiny girl and a 6 year old boy who insisted on taking photographs of everybody and everything every twenty seconds.  Not the calmest of places in the world.

I was stressing, crying, laughing and crying some more.  Then I started shouting at everyone and at that moment, I realized it was probably time for me to leave.  Actually it was past the time I should have left  as it was now gone 4:00 p.m. and I was late.

I jumped in the lift and ran through the hotel to the chapel.  Thank God I wasn’t in all my finery as I ran around a corner smack dab into my husband-to-be and all his groomsmen who were supposed to be there 20 minutes after me.  [another oops moment].

Finally making it, I was calmed down and shoved into a dressing room, which in all honesty was a bit fab.  Private toilet, lots of mirrors, perfumes, powders and potions and my dress and shoes were there ready for me.  The only thing missing was a couple of shot glasses and a bottle of tequila, which in hindsight would have probably been a disaster.   Oh, and it turns out my shoes were actually too big and I had to stuff the toes with toilet roll – very classy!  Thank goodness I didn’t opt for open toed shoes.  [*smiles*]

Eventually everyone got there, final primping was done, pre-wedding photographs were taken and it was time to get this thing going.  Obviously, I was still bawling and shaking like a leaf, which made my dad tear up and we both ended up walking down the aisle with wadded up tissues – again, quite classy.

Then, in what felt like twenty seconds, it was all over and I was a married lady.  I’m sure it was longer than that, but who knows?  It was Las Vegas after all.

At about that time we all subconsciously let our breath out and the party began.

Do I look happy? (that it's all over)

I’ve now been married for six weeks (not that I’m counting or anything) and for the lack of something better to say and not really wanting to sound like a McDonald’s advert…. I’m Loving It!!

Sticking to my roots!

No Wedding Cake for Me!

Is it too late to change the theme of the wedding only one month before the ceremony?

I asked this question to my other half and he mumbled something about “Whatever floats your boat.” I have the distinct impression he doesn’t care one way or another. [*sigh*]

What prompted this?  Well, I was talking to my sister the other day and she asked me about our wedding cake and I told her I wasn’t having one and she was quite shocked.  When I told her why, she understood entirely.  It’s because of this:

Photo by wedding photographer Babs Evangelista.

This is the most godawful, crazy, terrible American tradition which would be right up the Mr’s alley. He would love nothing better than to smash cake into my face, the joker that he is.  Can you imagine how you would feel on the best day of your life with perfect makeup and hair and a (probably quite expensive) wedding dress and then some bugger smashes cake all over you?  Not a pleasant thought and I just don’t understand the American idea that your day is not complete until you have cake in your hair!

Obviously, it got me thinking.  A traditional British wedding cake with fruitcake and Royal icing couldn’t be smooshed onto me (without fear of knocking me out) so maybe…..

A search of the internet did not bring up any English cake makers in Los Angeles, obviously, but I did find a whole heap of British-American themed wedding ideas on Pinterest (Yes, I’ve been sucked into there also) and now I want to change my theme, not that I actually had one, mind you.  I want British-American Save-the-Dates and invitations [oops, too late], a Union Jack wedding dress [definitely too late] and a cake.  The Mr. is just taking it all in, knowing I’m dreaming and rolling his eyes!

But really, how could he not absolutely love one of these??  [*grin*]

Another Brit Style Mother's Day

Another year, another Mother’s Day, another British Pub.  What could be better?  Just about nothing, that’s what.  This year we tried Ye Olde King’s Head in Santa Monica.  

The Olde King’s Head has been in Santa Monica since 1974 so it’s got to be quite good to last that long – oh and it was.  They have a pub, a restaurant and a gift shop [Shoppe].  Obviously, I had to pop into the gift shop and pick up some delicacies before we left.  Actually, I only got some Bisto, but I could have spent a ton.  

Anyway, back to the restaurant.  We got there about 1:30 p.m. and it was busy, being Mother’s day and all and of course we didn’t have a reservation.  They have two rooms and an outside patio so there was room for us anyway.  The wind was blowing like anything so the outside patio was not our choice. It would have been nice though, as you can see the sea from there… yup, it’s just like being in Brighton! Sort of.

So as we sat down and looked at the menu it became increasingly obvious that we had no idea what to choose.  Everything looked so tasty.  Did I want a Sunday dinner, pasty and chips or a Steak, Guinness and Mushroom pie?  What a flippin’ dilemma, albeit a good one.  (I actually wanted them all).

What to choose?

I eventually narrowed it down and had the roast lamb Sunday dinner and my daughter went for the pasty with mashed potatoes instead of chips.  Both were bloody delicious and also bloody huge!  I have to admit that I am very ashamed of myself.  I could not finish my dinner, although I gave it my best effort.  There was so much there.  The only downside was that there wasn't enough gravy - but then I like my food swimming in it, to be fair.  I'm sure if I had asked, I would have been given more.

The place is actually quite fantastic.  When you walk in it’s as if you’ve just gone through a magic door to England.  British memorabilia everywhere, photographs, pictures, knick knacks – it was just like being at my nan’s house! *smile*  All of the waitresses we spoke to, or heard were English and the manager/boss was a very loud, very gregarious Liverpudlian.  We didn’t actually get a chance to talk with him as he was everywhere, making sure people were okay.   I heard him before I actually saw him and turned around expecting him to be the stereotypical Scouser complete with afro, mustache and tracksuit.  He did not look like that – at all!  

I will definitely be going back for the Afternoon Tea.  We kept eyeing the serving racks full of cream cakes and deliciousness passing by our table.  I took a photo of one of their flyers – they have sausage rolls and quiche and cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches and cream tea… oh my goodness, I could go on.  I’m drooling a little.

If you want to try this place, here’s a link:  www.yeoldekingshead.com  

Being at the seaside, we decided to take a stroll down to the seafront and along the pier (as you do). Once again, it was very noticeable that we were not, in fact, in Brighton.  Although it was quite chilly and very windy, there were a few distinct differences.  Look at that beach – definitely not England. Although there was a big wheel on the pier, but no penny arcade or bumper cars, and definitely no rock.

This is NOT Brighton

No rock, but there is a Big Wheel

This is not a paid review, but I had to share because it's great.  And also, I can't not post a picture of the other present I got.  My daughter seems to know me so well!!

It's for the wall in my office!!

British Television Phrases Americans Will Never Understand

There are a few phrases that practically every English person knows (and possibly loves) that tend to stick in your mind.  I have a few and they've nearly all come from adverts, or at least off the telly. Here's a few I use all the time.

I think we actually had this television.

That's Handy 'Arry

When something’s going brilliantly or you find something you’re looking for in the first place you look thats, well, handy.  I use this phrase all the time, mostly without even thinking about it.  The first couple of hundred times, the mister would look at me like I was mad, but it’s apparently made an impression because I’ve once or twice heard him mutter it too.  [Sometimes I even add the "stick it in the oven"]

Luvley Jubley

Ahh…. The immortal words of Del Boy.  I’m sure there’s nobody who hasn’t uttered this once in a while.  Luvley Jubbly just about sums up any brilliant moment.  In my case, this one usually refers to food.  I’m not sure if there is an American equivalent of this phrase – perhaps “Awesome” but that just doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?  

Oh and obviously, you have to rub your hands together while saying it.

OooEee Mr. Shifter

I am ashamed to say that I have actually used this phrase a few times.  Funnily enough, it's generally when we're trying to get a particularly large item of furniture up the stairs.  [Sounds like we do that all the time, doesn't it? ... we don't]  I always tend to end up on the back end and panic when I think I'm going to be squished.

Can ya Ride Tandem?

These monkeys apparently made a great impression on my during my youth.  I have no idea why I say this, except maybe it's just funny, oh and the mister rides a bike.  Not a tandem, mind you, a bloomin' great Harley Davidson, so it just tickles me just a bit.

I know these two adverts aren't politically correct nowadays, what with all the animal rights activists and PETA, but you've got to admit that in their time they were brilliant.

Does anyone else have a long forgotten phrase they use frequently?  If so, remind us....

Oh Good Grief - It's National Hugging Day!

Today in America it’s National Hugging Day… yes, you did read that right, it’s a day that celebrates hugging. [*shudders*]

I can hear all British expats in the USA right now actually cringing.  This is going to be a day to stay in bed, I think, or at least not venture out of the house just in case you are suddenly accosted by some random stranger who wants to hug you.  [*gulp*]  How absolutely appalling.

This is just Not British!  I don’t understand why there needs to be a whole day of celebration and I’m sure I’m not the only one with that British aversion to hugging.  Why hug when a good old “How do you do?” and perfectly fine handshake will suffice.  But then Americans find us a bit standoffish and rude if we don’t hug.  

It has taken me a long time to get used to the fact that I will be hugged whether I like it or not.  To compound the fact, my fiancé is in a motorcycle club and their culture is to take anyone into an embrace or bear hug to say hello.  For the first few years, I would stand stiffly with my hands at my sides and kind of grimace.  It was a bit like being hugged by an ancient uncle whom you had never met, who kind of smelled like mothballs, and clutched you to his chest a wee bit long for your liking. So very uncomfortable.

I have tended to get over my phobia a little though, I pretty much had to, being around bikers so much.  I was once informed I was a bit of a snooty b*tch, to which my only reply was, “Well, I’m English, that’s how we are.”  [Sorry England]

So true!

So I’m just going to say once and for all “I’m sorry America that I don’t hug as much as you would like, go ahead and have your Hugging Day, but please, please, please do NOT include me!” [and certainly don't try to touch me]

Thank you.

The San Bernardino Shooting

This was not the blog post I was going to write today, but circumstances changed.  

I’m not going to get into the gun control debate because there’s enough of that already.  

This is just what happened to me yesterday.

Well yesterday was a bit out of the ordinary for an English girl.  Unfortunately not so much for many Americans though.  I work in San Bernardino, just around the corner from the building where the so called "mass shooting" took place.  

At around 11 a.m. an email was sent to us saying 'active shooting' and stay in the building. Obviously no more work was accomplished that morning (or the remainder of the day actually).  People began watching news reports on their computer so we could see exactly where it was happening and we were quite shocked when we saw just how close it was.  

Reports kept coming through of how many people had been killed and then we got another email which said 'Meeting in conference room immediately'. [A bit ominous]  We were told the 'situation' was being monitored and we were welcome to go home if we wanted to - however, they would not advise it as the building was on lockdown and the shooters had not been apprehended.  We could leave AT OUR OWN RISK.  Well, what a choice... Sit at your desk all day wondering if you would ever get to go home or take your life into your hands and try and get to your car!  Very reassuring, I must say.

I lasted a couple more hours before I decided to go home - because quite frankly being at home on the sofa is better than even the best day at work really.  

Walking from the building to my car had my heart beating quite fast.  I could see my little Mini from the door, but it felt like it was a mile away.  The car park was deserted and there was not a security guard in sight - I think they had all bolted at the first sign of trouble to be honest.

What didn't help was as soon as I walked out the door and was out in the open police sirens broke the silence with screeching and revving engines very close by.  Needless to say I nearly wee'd myself.  I didn't want to run to my car as that would make me look silly, [also I didn't want to draw attention to myself] so I speed(?) walked and jumped in, locked the door and took a deep breath.  Phew.

As I drove to the entrance driveway the sirens got closer and police cars flew past on the freeway.  A Twitter alert came in saying there was now a car chase with shots fired.  Oh bloody hell, I thought, I should have stayed at my desk!

The town was pretty much deserted and I got home in record time, which was nice.  

What really amazed me (but probably shouldn't) was the amount of rumour and paranoia during the day. Work colleagues were freaking out in case we “were next”, there were said to be gunmen running amok in all directions, some were posting on Facebook that they could see it all happening outside the window which they clearly couldn’t – the building is 1.1 miles away and unless you’ve got super x-ray vision and can see through buildings and around corners, there’s no way.  Yes, we could hear the police and see all the helicopters, but that’s about it.  I work on the sixth floor and as I wandered around, even going to the fifth floor, all doors were closed and locked tight.  Some had notes saying if you wanted to get in, you should phone them.  Never mind the fact that the main doors to the building were locked and nobody could get in, let alone up in the lift to a random floor in the building.  I know I probably sound like a right uncompassionate cow, but I will admit it was a bit scary, to be sure.

It did make me reminisce for the good old days growing up just outside London when the only thing we had to be worried about, terrorist wise, was the IRA.  Granted you never knew when a bomb would go off, but when they did, at least there weren’t nutters running around with guns shooting at everyone.  They were already back in Ireland.

The IRA blew up the pub round the corner from my Nan's house

The world has become a very crazy place and this was just a bit too close for my liking!

6 Sneaky American Words that have fallen into my vocabulary

Good – instead of nice.  I was once asked by a co-worker why I always said food was 'nice' instead of good. I’d never really thought about it before because everything was either nice or horrible. Somehow it’s stuck in my head and now every time, every flippin' time I think food is lovely I say “Ooh, this is good!”  Grrr…..

Dude - A terrible word, but I will admit that I only ever use it in a derogatory manner, usually while driving. i.e. Dude, move your F*cking arse!  or Dude, you drive like an idiot!  [Yes, terribly British]

Cute -  Yes, I know we use this in England, but usually for a puppy or a baby.  In America, it's for just about everything.  "Oh you look cute" people say... what, do I look like a puppy?  "Oh, what a cute car" they say... when you know they really mean wow, your car is tiny, how do you actually get in it??   But again, this one is stuck in my vocabulary.  I try really hard to use a different word but then there's a pause while I'm thinking, which tends to make it sound like "Oh you look...um...cute?" which really is not a compliment, to be honest.

Son of a Gun - Okay, I will admit I hardly ever say this because it's so awful. (And it's more a phrase than a word).  The reason I put it in is because I actually said it, out loud, today!  I was trying to get a packet of crisps out of the vending machine and they got stuck (*sad face*). Of course, my first thought was an expletive but I realized a boss was in the room so obviously I couldn't say what I wanted and went with "Arghh - Son of a Gun!"  I kind of surprised myself and I'm sure my face was a picture when I realized what I'd actually said!

Ladybug - I’m not sure why it’s called a bug, although I suppose technically it is a bug, but that just sounds like it would be a nasty creepy crawly… Ladybird sounds so much nicer, doesn’t it?  But to be honest, it’s not really a bird either is it?

But Ladybug has come into my vocabulary somehow and without thinking, that’s what I always say, but I mostly correct my self straight away.  And I wouldn’t even dream of singing “Ladybug, Ladybug fly away home..”  It’s just not right!

Soccer - I think this is the word that annoys me the most… Ugh… soccer [Actually pronounced in the US as Saaakkkerrr!!]  Pretty much most of the time, when I use this one, I follow up by saying “You know, real football.”  (*grins*)

Does anyone else have a problem with this?  What words annoy you that you can't help saying? Discuss.....

Sophisticated Shenanigans

When I was young and anyone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, without hesitation and without fail I answered “A Primadonna Ballerina.”  Not any old ballerina for me, oh no, I wanted to be the primadonna. [I know I was saying it wrong and it’s technically a prima ballerina, but what did my 7 year old self know?  In fact, I still say primadonna]  Here’s the thing though, I have never, in my entire life, taken a ballet lesson!  I wasn’t even particularly much of a girlie girl either.  But there you go…

Obviously then, a few months ago when I saw tickets for Swan Lake and the event happened to be 20 minutes from my house, I jumped at the chance.  I don’t think there’s anyone who doesn’t know Swan Lake and the fabulous dying scene at the end (although some people have told me they don’t, which I totally do not believe)  Surprisingly (or maybe not), I wasn’t able to get anyone to say they would come with me so, obviously, I roped in my daughter.  [*smile*]

So this weekend we had a very sophisticated night on the town, dressing up and going to the ballet.  Very posh it was.    Until we realized we had absolutely no idea what was going on… About five minutes into the first Act Hannah whispered to me “What’s happening?” and I had to admit I had no clue.  Oopsie.  But the dancing was pretty.  

There was a short intermission and the lights came on which is when we realized that the little brochure they had given us as we entered was, in fact, a short synopsis of the story.  Ahh…problem solved.  That made it much easier to follow, I must say.  It’s quite hard to understand that when the hero holds up a crossbow, he’s actually supposed to be shooting swans, for goodness sake.  [We are so uncultured].

To add to our uncouthness I decided to take a few sneaky photographs (as you do).

All went well until it got to the end and they lived happily ever after.  What??  Yes, that’s right, they lived happily ever after!!  What happened to the dying swan dance, probably the most famous bit of ballet in the world???  I was gutted!  What the flippin’ heck?  As I grumpily walked down the stairs I heard someone a little more knowledgeable than I telling her friend that “there are two endings and the Russians always use the happy ending.”  Well, I don’t care – it wasn’t a happy ending for me.  [*sob*]

Let’s go to the ballet, I said, it will be fun, I said, Swan Lake is a lovely story, I said, but a bit sad at the end.  

So what did I learn from my first trip to the ballet:

1. You can actually hear the pointes tapping the floor as the ballerinas walk and dance, which is kind of cool;
2. There's a lot of hopping in ballet (which made me think I wouldn’t be so bad at it, but it was just a quick thought);
3. You cannot get drunk, or even tipsy, at the theatre.  Drinks were $12 for a tiny little cup, although to be honest, that’s not technically sophisticated, is it?;
4. When there’s an intermission every single person in the theatre takes out their phone and checks it!
5. I think I was the only person there who hummed along to the Swan Lake theme and expected Madness to come onto the stage and perform it.  [They are not well known in America for anything except Our House, which in my opinion is not one of their best]  

Approximately 9 different versions of Swan Lake have been performed over the years.  I found this on Wikipedia, which apparently that other lady had read too:

In 1950, Konstantin Sergeyev staged a new Swan Lake for the Mariinsky Ballet (then the Kirov) after Petipa and Ivanov, but included some bits of Vaganova and Gorsky. Under the Soviet regime, the tragic ending was substituted with a happy one, so that in the Mariinsky and Bolshoi versions, Odette and Siegfried lived happily ever after.

So now you know.  My sophistication level has just gone up a notch because next time I can be the knowledgeable one.  Or at least try to..... 

In case you now have that Madness tune in your head here's this.  And if not, you will have by the time you finish listening.  

English Stadium Etiquette (It's Not the same in the USA)

Last Thursday night, the mister and myself went to the Hollywood Bowl to see the brilliant Ed Sheeran. You have to, after all, support all British people/bands/acts/teams/companies that pass through Hollywood, don't you? [Okay, that's probably going a bit far]. Nevertheless, we crawled out to Los Angeles in rush hour traffic (2.5 hours, thank you very much) and it was really worth it. See....

The Hollywood Bowl is an outdoor venue with tiered seating.  A little bit like a football stadium, if you will.  Which is where it got a bit tricky.

If you've read a lot of this blog, you will know I spent much of my (mis-spent) youth at football games.  You pay a lot of money to get into those games and when you can't see the pitch because someone's standing up in front, a collective shout of "Sit Down" goes up.  Only it's not a polite Sit Down, it's more of a "SIIIIDDDDDDDAAARRRNN" sometimes followed by "You make a better door than a window mate."  Oh those days..

There I was, having stood in line for about 35 minutes for popcorn, of all things, when Mr. Sheeran came onto the stage.  Up went the cheers as I raced back to my seat.  Everyone around was sitting waiting for the first song - except for two bloody girls about three seats in front of us.  Well, of course I automatically shouted "SIIIIDDDDDDDAAARRRNN" and when they didn't, I shouted it again.  The Mister looked at me and mouthed "sit down?" with an incredulous look on his face and the lady next to me tried to hide under her seat and get as far away from me as possible (sorry stranger lady, if you're reading this).

It was so automatic I didn't realize what I'd done for a moment and then it dawned on me.  Oopsie, one is not at a football game, one better sit down and shut up.  [*sheepish grin*]  I didn't think those girls had heard me, but you know what, they didn't stand up again for the rest of the evening. (Score!)

I thought it was the English who were reluctant to show their disapproval and I couldn't believe all these people were sitting looking at other people's bums without saying anything or asking them to move.  Rude!

Here's a bit more of the show

Persil has Arrived in America (and it's driving me nuts)

It always excites me when something from home arrives in American shops.  (Apparently it doesn't take much to get me excited)

Just recently there's been a new advert on the telly for Persil ProClean and it's driving me bloody mad.  Every time I hear it, I cringe and get a little bit mad.  Why, you ask?  Well just take a look at this ....

Did you hear it?  Do you see what I mean?  No, then take another listen.  The way they pronounce Persil as Pu-SEEL drives me nuts.  I know, its only a little thing, but even so.  PER-SIL, it's Per-sil. Arghhh.  (and don't even get me started on the pronunciation of Adidas).

I wish someone at Persil would tell them how to say it, after all they've been making washing powder for over 100 years, so someone there should know, shouldn't they?

I was going to try and find the English version of the advert, but I found this instead and it's just so lovely - 100 Years of Persil, What is a Mum?

Is that little Ron Weasley in the go kart?  I think the skinhead one was one of my favourite adverts growing up.

I honestly don't think the American pronunciation is going to change so I will have to make do muting the telly or just shouting "IT'S PER-SIL!!" at the screen every time I see the advert.

Is there any American pronunciation that get's your blood boiling?  Do tell...

The Passive Aggressive

Give me my pills...!!

Today I had to pick up a prescription at the pharmacy (chemist) and when I arrived there were already two people in line.  They had obviously been there a while because the pharmacist had a blank look on his face and kept rolling his eyes. 

The problem.... they were chatting.  Not just any old chat, mind you.  This is where I came in...

Mum 1:          ... yes, they keep getting ear infections and nothing helps ...

Mum 2:        [Interrupting] Oh, mine used to get those all the time...

Mum 1:       ... they had to have the surgery, with the tube thingies in their ears, and they were only TWO, both of them had to have the same thing

Mum 2:        Yes, mine had that too.  But luckily at his age he only gets sick about once a year now

["He" was standing right next to her and she was talking as if he wasn't even there]

Mum 1:        Does it get better as they get older?  We only manage to go on date night once a month now and I keep telling my husband it will be better when they get older..

Mum 2:        Well mine's in a travel hockey team and we have to go all over the state, so we don't get date night either

Mum 1:        So it doesn't get any better?  I've got girls, so they won't be into sports hopefully, but they will want to do dancing, so it will be the same thing, I expect.  But we love football, so I wish I had a boy, we will just have to put up with dancing...

Mum 2:         You poor thing....

Blah, blah, blah...


chat or gossip?

About this time, I was feeling somewhat annoyed and obviously did what any true English person would do.... I tutted and sighed.  I also texted the whole conversation to a friend telling her how mad I was.... because, you know .....English....

It went on for at least another couple of minutes, before the pharmacist gave a polite cough to encourage Mum 1 to pay and, well, basically, get out!  (Apparently he has some Brit in him too)

I'm sure this same thing happens in England all the time, but it dawned on me that we just don't ever speak up for want of looking rude.  Heaven forbid that we should make a scene. 

So I did the obvious thing, I came home and ranted on here.  Passive Aggressive at it's best. 

Thank you, rant over.... you can resume your normal business now.

A Reminder of Home

So this happened the other day on the way home from work.

I was just minding my own business, sitting in traffic when all of a sudden a flash of Union Jack caught my eye.  Obviously, I had to find out what it was all about so weaved my way through the traffic to catch up and saw this.....

How brilliant is that?  An "English" window cleaner.  So, as you do, I drove up along side him, wound down my window and asked for a card.  How the heck I thought he was going to pass me a card on the freeway is anyone's guess!   We did have a nice little chat though - he's from Oxford - and he said he would pull in front of me so I could take a photo so I had his number.  Ahhh...some common sense.

I did wonder a bit how an English window cleaner would fare in California as the windows are so different from those in England.  Every window here has a screen on the outside to keep bugs out - not necessary in Blighty - we just put up with flies in the house.  I should phone him and ask how he deals with that extra work... but I probably won't.

Not easy to clean through the screens

It's always nice to see a fellow Brit when you don't expect it.  But the most annoying thing about it was that I had this flippin' song stuck in my head all the way home.... my nan used to sing it all the time when we were growing up and I hadn't thought of it for years.  After all that time, it just popped into my head out of nowhere!

Take a listen and see if you don't have it stuck there all day too [*smile*]

National Puppy Day

Apparently, today in American is National Puppy Day.  Who knew there was such a thing?  It's to encourage people to adopt from shelters and not buy from puppy mill pet stores. 

This comes in a bit handy since only three weeks ago we had a new family member arrive at our house.  This is him

Yes, he is a teeny tiny pitbull puppy.  The poor little fellow has to live with that bad pitbull reputation for the rest of his life, bless him.  But he will be protected by his big brother Charlie.  [Not sure 'protected' was the correct word here, actually, what with all the bad connotations the word pitbull conjures up with some people].

Big brother will look after him

It took a while to name him but we finally settled on Spencer.  (Pronounced with an English accent of course.... Spensahhhh).

I'm not going to get into the whole debate about pitbulls and Breed Specific Legislation (BSL), but will say they are the most lovable dogs who grow into 90 pound lapdogs and will love you forever.  If you are interested, this is a really good article by Jake Flanagin from Pacific Standard: "The Tragedy of America's Dog"

I was thinking we should have called him Marmite.... because him being a pitbull, people either love them or hate them!!!!

How could you NOT love that face?