Paul is a member at Escape, a local gym (although it does sound like the name of a suspicious massage parlor), and invited me along to sample the delights of running machines, free weights, stair climbers, the pool and the sauna. Did I mention the pool and the sauna?
Well, I used to run a bit when I lived in a place that was closer to the sun, a land called California where it's not 4 degrees in May, a land where water falls out of the tap, not out of the sky. Long story short, these legs haven't run in a while. So I ran for about eight minutes. Which brings me to the sauna and pool. They were lovely.
In the sauna I poured so much water on the rocks in an attempt to show off my half Finnishness that I ended up driving myself out of there, leaving a Welshman as the sauna champion. And then I made the faux pas of jumping straight from the sauna into the swimming pool without rinsing off, which in terms of Finnish hygiene protocal Chapter 3, Verse 1, means I can have my Finnish passport revoked. In fact, they might even summon me to Helsinki just so they could deport me.
But the best part about Escape, which could make it worth the 35 GBP monthly fee, is that you get to use AS MUCH free shampoo and conditioner and body wash as you want. I washed my hair twice.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Monday, May 16, 2005
Monday Afternoon Entertainment
Happy Monday afternoon to America. Are you bored? Well, I'll entertain you.
What's more entertaining than a blog with photos of German animals, in German, in Germany? I won't even try to answer that question.
How about my cousin Minna's web site featuring photos of her twin girls?? In Finnish, in Finland.
What else can I offer you?
A site about musicals (for Stuart and Paul, especially.)
What's more entertaining than a blog with photos of German animals, in German, in Germany? I won't even try to answer that question.
How about my cousin Minna's web site featuring photos of her twin girls?? In Finnish, in Finland.
What else can I offer you?
A site about musicals (for Stuart and Paul, especially.)
The Old Man
My father has been balding and greying since he was 19. Inside, he's still 19, much to my mother's dismay. His white hair and shiny dome lead many to misoverestimate his age. Add to that the fact that he sometimes talks to himself, and one might get the totally wrong image of him, as he wanders the airports of the western world. (In reality, he's the kind of guy who tells the waitress, when she asks if he wants a glass for his beer, "it already comes in a glass!", not some frail old man.)
My mom recently related that well-meaning strangers have approached him at the airport, as he navigates the crowds with a large suitcase and toolbox, and have offered to help him carry his luggage. He smiles, accepts their kind offer, and then laughs when they can't lift his heavy toolbox.
My mom recently related that well-meaning strangers have approached him at the airport, as he navigates the crowds with a large suitcase and toolbox, and have offered to help him carry his luggage. He smiles, accepts their kind offer, and then laughs when they can't lift his heavy toolbox.
Newsflash - Sun Hovers Over Scotland
The sun was out and about here in Edinburgh Friday, Saturday AND Sunday and has now retreated back away from Scotland. And it's freezing again. But faces have seen the sun and are now slightly brownish and not so greyish. Read more about Scotland's peculiar weather.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
The Oracle of Camarillo
I think my mom, who left Finland for the US at the age of 27, feels a kinship with Ted (my Polish flatmate) who is living far away from his family and struggling to learn English. She always asks about him, and wants to know how he is doing. Well, when she heard that Ted is in awe of Teflon pans and wanted to send some to his wife in Poland, my mom stepped in and said she wanted to send them. So, Ted gave me Magosha's address in Poland. There was a letter or two in the address I couldn't decipher, and asking Ted if it was an L, R, J, C or K led to nothing. So I just mailed my mom the scrap of paper he had written on. She phoned the other day to enquire about the mystery letter and ended up speaking to Paul. Talk of Teflon pans and Polish addresses led to a political discussion. And apparently she managed to slip this into the conversation, "but it didn't matter, because Roosevelt was a socialist anyway."
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
A Lecturer By Any Other Name
The students have handed in their first assignment. They have to put my name on the cover page. These are some of the ways my name was spelled:
A. Lindstrom
Anne,elise,Sandstrom? (complete with commas and question mark)
Lisa-Ann Sandstrum
Anne-Lisa Sandrum
Too bad Maria and Hector have already chosen a name for the baby (Peter-Marie, or Anaise Katarina). They could have farmed some names from this list. I'm particularly fond of Anne,elise,Sandstrom?. It's very post-modern.
A. Lindstrom
Anne,elise,Sandstrom? (complete with commas and question mark)
Lisa-Ann Sandstrum
Anne-Lisa Sandrum
Too bad Maria and Hector have already chosen a name for the baby (Peter-Marie, or Anaise Katarina). They could have farmed some names from this list. I'm particularly fond of Anne,elise,Sandstrom?. It's very post-modern.
Dear Peter-Marie,
Your due date is not until May 19th but I am anxious to meet you. Let me know when you're on your way.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Elgin
Guess where I went this weekend? Yes, I went to Elgin. And let me tell you, it was both Magical AND Mythical. (see previous posts)
Paul, Stuart and I took the Megabus up on Friday, from Edinburgh to Inverness, a route which takes you through some of the most Magical AND Mythical scenery in Scotland. Maybe even the world. The bus ride cost 5 GBP.
Some weekend highlights included:
Paul, Stuart and I took the Megabus up on Friday, from Edinburgh to Inverness, a route which takes you through some of the most Magical AND Mythical scenery in Scotland. Maybe even the world. The bus ride cost 5 GBP.
Some weekend highlights included:
- Elgin's broken cathedral
- a scenic drive to visit Stuart's Granda near Inverurie
- seeing a "Jesus is coming. Look busy." magnet on the refrigerator at the home of the Reverend and Mrs Rollo
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Photographic Evidence
Granted you can't see his feet, but this is what Sandstrum-Jackson does with his arms when he's moonwalking.
Monday, May 02, 2005
The Moonwalk
The other night the subject of "the moonwalk" came up and I felt obliged to mention that my dad is an excellent moonwalker. I'd say it's his signature move.
Someone asked when my dad started moonwalking, and where he learned it.
I don't think he knows he's doing the moonwalk, per se, and I think he's probably been dancing it since the 50s, and come to think of it, he might have invented it.
"Does your dad know Michael Jackson?" someone asked.
No. I don't think so. And I'm not sure when MJ stole my dad's move.
Someone asked when my dad started moonwalking, and where he learned it.
I don't think he knows he's doing the moonwalk, per se, and I think he's probably been dancing it since the 50s, and come to think of it, he might have invented it.
"Does your dad know Michael Jackson?" someone asked.
No. I don't think so. And I'm not sure when MJ stole my dad's move.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Jewellery Designers (read: drug smugglers)
Tonight at Kebab Mahal two Argentinian gentleman came and sat down next to us. So I turned to them and asked them where they were from, how long they had been in Edinburgh, and why they were here.
Argentina. A year and a half. To work.
What do you do?
Design jewellery.
Neither had a piece of jewellery on. And they didn't look like the designery type. So I continued the interrogation. What other languages do you speak?
Spanish, Turkish and Albanian.
What were you doing in Turkey?
Designing jewellery.
What were you doing in Albania?
Designing jewellery.
By then I had decided they were hit men, or baby thieves, or drug smugglers.
So I said to them in Spanish: "My sister Maria's husband is Mexican." Which sounds like a line out of a 9th grade Spanish textbook.
And then I pulled out the other phrase I know in Spanish: "The cowboy mouse drew his two pistols."
And then for some reason they moved tables???
Weirdos.
Argentina. A year and a half. To work.
What do you do?
Design jewellery.
Neither had a piece of jewellery on. And they didn't look like the designery type. So I continued the interrogation. What other languages do you speak?
Spanish, Turkish and Albanian.
What were you doing in Turkey?
Designing jewellery.
What were you doing in Albania?
Designing jewellery.
By then I had decided they were hit men, or baby thieves, or drug smugglers.
So I said to them in Spanish: "My sister Maria's husband is Mexican." Which sounds like a line out of a 9th grade Spanish textbook.
And then I pulled out the other phrase I know in Spanish: "The cowboy mouse drew his two pistols."
And then for some reason they moved tables???
Weirdos.
Plumbing Mysteries
Last Saturday morning, there's a knock at the door. I open the door to see a strange woman.
Strange Woman: I live downstairs and there's water streaming down the wall in my kitchen can you check if you have a leak?
A-L: Sure. (Thinking: how could there be a leak, we haven't washed dishes or done laundry in days??)
I check under the sink to find nothing, besides 72 almost empty bottles of laundry detergent. So I return to the lady who I left standing in the stairwell.
A-L: No, our sink isn't leaking.
S W: Maybe it's your wash machine because it's on the back wall.
Should I let her in so she can see for herself? But our house is "in a bad way".
A-L: Would you like to come in and show me where the water is coming from? I'm sorry, our flat is such a mess, so please don't look around.
S W, looking around: Oh, I'm not even allowed in my son's flat!
S W checks out the washer, and says: Yes, that's where it's coming down the wall. Can you call your landlord and get it fixed?
A-L: Sure, I'll take care of it right away. (Too bad I can't remember our landlord's name or number and Paul is in Elgin, where they have no phones, so I'll have to send a carrier pigeon.) Are you the one with the kittens?
S W: No. They belong to the people in the building next door whose children have their own yard but always play in ours.
She exits.
I quickly fashion a sign that says "Kaput/Broken" (so that both Paul and Ted will understand) and fasten it to the wash machine.
Two days pass. Laundry piles up.
Monday morning, knock at the door.
S W: There is now a huge bulge in the ceiling and it's about to collapse. Have you been using the wash machine? You know you can't use it! Have you called the landlord?
A-L: I'll call right now.
S W: You haven't called yet? My husband is going to go ballistic when he sees this.
A-L, to herself: Don't threaten me with the wrath of your husband. I'm American, I'll sue you for distressing me. Out loud: OK.
I shut the door.
Call Paul for the number, then call the landlord who explains that water damage is considered an Act of God and we are not liable for it unless, unless, they can prove negligence on our part.
A-L, meekly: What do you mean, "negligence"?
Landlord: Well, like if they told you about it a week ago and you did nothing about it.
I see in my mind's eye time-lapse photography of water droplets slowly destroying the downstair's neighbor's ceiling as I gallavant about St Andrews all day Sunday. And then I see myself dragged to prison by the insurance company because I can't pay for the water damage. So I call the plumber who says: Don't use the wash machine.
Really??? Because I've been pouring water onto the floorboards since I heard of the problem downstairs. And I've been running a laundry business and washing heavy loads just so I can be to blame for the water damage.
Tuesday morning a note is put through our mail slot:
"Can you please give me your landlord's number for insurance purposes?"
So on Tuesday the appliance guy determines there's nothing wrong with the washer, besides the fact that it doesn't collect, dry and fold laundry, and says the water must be coming from somewhere else. Which brings us to today's visit from the plumber.
Buzzer rings, plumber comes upstairs. I summon Paul to enter stage right.
A-L to plumber: Are you Mike? I mean Michael? Hi, I'm Anna-Lisa. We cleaned up for you, can you tell?
Wry smile from plumber.
Plumber Michael: Are they home downstairs? I think I'll go take a look at the damage.
Plumber Michael returns and starts examining under the sink and the washer: Have you been using the sink?
A-L: Huh, no, can't you tell?? (Pointing to pile of dishes, and thinking I'm hilarious...)
Plumber Michael: Did you use the wash machine after she reported the leak?
I ignore the question.
Paul: Do you think the lady downstairs made it up?
Wry smile from plumber.
A-L: Maybe it was coming from the flat above ours, because the washer repair guy was here yesterday and said there's nothing wrong with the washer, so I can't be sued for negli..., I mean, so there's no logical explanation.
Plumber Michael: They have just a slight stain on the ceiling downstairs, but it would be along this wall here, so I'm not sure where it was coming from.
A-L to herself: So I'm not going to prison for being a lazy, inconsiderate neighbor. Out loud: She made it sound like their whole ceiling was caving in.
Wry smile from plumber.
A-L: Maybe the flat downstairs is haunted.
Wry smile from plumber.
Plumber Michael: Well, I don't see anything wrong. I really don't know where it was coming from. I'm going to go back downstairs. I told they guy I'd stop back in and tell him what I found.
Paul: That his wife is pathalogical??
A-L: Yes, that we've diagnosed his wife as a crazy??
Plumber exits, quickly.
Strange Woman: I live downstairs and there's water streaming down the wall in my kitchen can you check if you have a leak?
A-L: Sure. (Thinking: how could there be a leak, we haven't washed dishes or done laundry in days??)
I check under the sink to find nothing, besides 72 almost empty bottles of laundry detergent. So I return to the lady who I left standing in the stairwell.
A-L: No, our sink isn't leaking.
S W: Maybe it's your wash machine because it's on the back wall.
Should I let her in so she can see for herself? But our house is "in a bad way".
A-L: Would you like to come in and show me where the water is coming from? I'm sorry, our flat is such a mess, so please don't look around.
S W, looking around: Oh, I'm not even allowed in my son's flat!
S W checks out the washer, and says: Yes, that's where it's coming down the wall. Can you call your landlord and get it fixed?
A-L: Sure, I'll take care of it right away. (Too bad I can't remember our landlord's name or number and Paul is in Elgin, where they have no phones, so I'll have to send a carrier pigeon.) Are you the one with the kittens?
S W: No. They belong to the people in the building next door whose children have their own yard but always play in ours.
She exits.
I quickly fashion a sign that says "Kaput/Broken" (so that both Paul and Ted will understand) and fasten it to the wash machine.
Two days pass. Laundry piles up.
Monday morning, knock at the door.
S W: There is now a huge bulge in the ceiling and it's about to collapse. Have you been using the wash machine? You know you can't use it! Have you called the landlord?
A-L: I'll call right now.
S W: You haven't called yet? My husband is going to go ballistic when he sees this.
A-L, to herself: Don't threaten me with the wrath of your husband. I'm American, I'll sue you for distressing me. Out loud: OK.
I shut the door.
Call Paul for the number, then call the landlord who explains that water damage is considered an Act of God and we are not liable for it unless, unless, they can prove negligence on our part.
A-L, meekly: What do you mean, "negligence"?
Landlord: Well, like if they told you about it a week ago and you did nothing about it.
I see in my mind's eye time-lapse photography of water droplets slowly destroying the downstair's neighbor's ceiling as I gallavant about St Andrews all day Sunday. And then I see myself dragged to prison by the insurance company because I can't pay for the water damage. So I call the plumber who says: Don't use the wash machine.
Really??? Because I've been pouring water onto the floorboards since I heard of the problem downstairs. And I've been running a laundry business and washing heavy loads just so I can be to blame for the water damage.
Tuesday morning a note is put through our mail slot:
"Can you please give me your landlord's number for insurance purposes?"
So on Tuesday the appliance guy determines there's nothing wrong with the washer, besides the fact that it doesn't collect, dry and fold laundry, and says the water must be coming from somewhere else. Which brings us to today's visit from the plumber.
Buzzer rings, plumber comes upstairs. I summon Paul to enter stage right.
A-L to plumber: Are you Mike? I mean Michael? Hi, I'm Anna-Lisa. We cleaned up for you, can you tell?
Wry smile from plumber.
Plumber Michael: Are they home downstairs? I think I'll go take a look at the damage.
Plumber Michael returns and starts examining under the sink and the washer: Have you been using the sink?
A-L: Huh, no, can't you tell?? (Pointing to pile of dishes, and thinking I'm hilarious...)
Plumber Michael: Did you use the wash machine after she reported the leak?
I ignore the question.
Paul: Do you think the lady downstairs made it up?
Wry smile from plumber.
A-L: Maybe it was coming from the flat above ours, because the washer repair guy was here yesterday and said there's nothing wrong with the washer, so I can't be sued for negli..., I mean, so there's no logical explanation.
Plumber Michael: They have just a slight stain on the ceiling downstairs, but it would be along this wall here, so I'm not sure where it was coming from.
A-L to herself: So I'm not going to prison for being a lazy, inconsiderate neighbor. Out loud: She made it sound like their whole ceiling was caving in.
Wry smile from plumber.
A-L: Maybe the flat downstairs is haunted.
Wry smile from plumber.
Plumber Michael: Well, I don't see anything wrong. I really don't know where it was coming from. I'm going to go back downstairs. I told they guy I'd stop back in and tell him what I found.
Paul: That his wife is pathalogical??
A-L: Yes, that we've diagnosed his wife as a crazy??
Plumber exits, quickly.
My Brussels Correspondent
Gemma Lougheed, erstwhile Napier University publishing student and now EU politial expert, writes here about a surprise best seller in France.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Dear Reader
Do not be alarmed. It's a whole new look, but the same niece-centric content. And my thanks to Paul for showing me how to upload photos. Now I can post a picture of Aila every day.
English Lessons
We had an English lesson today and Ted learned "this/here" and "that/there". It was a bit of a struggle and we had to call in reinforcements and translators (his sister-in-law, not "sister-in-love" as Ted used to say).
I now know to preface grammatical concepts with the Polish word "Gramatyka" as a warning. Ted has a small travel phrasebook which is known to us as the "English/Polish, Polish/English small book." When I say that, he knows it's time for "Gramatyka".
The book is only somewhat helpful. Today Ted asked about the difference between "work" and "job" and I decided it was time to introduce nouns and verbs, but I couldn't find those terms in the "English/Polish, Polish/English small book." Someone decided that non-English speaking Polish travellers do not need to know "verb" or "noun" but they do need to know:
fritter - roztrwonić
gherkin - korniszon
Harvey Wallbanger - wódka z sokiem pomarańczowym
plimsolls (!) - tenisówki
Ted speaks Polish at work all day which does hinder his progress, but his English is improving. He has now replaced his home-grown phrase "new week" with the correct phrase "next week" and the above-mentioned "sister-in-love" is gone, which is kind of a shame...
I now know to preface grammatical concepts with the Polish word "Gramatyka" as a warning. Ted has a small travel phrasebook which is known to us as the "English/Polish, Polish/English small book." When I say that, he knows it's time for "Gramatyka".
The book is only somewhat helpful. Today Ted asked about the difference between "work" and "job" and I decided it was time to introduce nouns and verbs, but I couldn't find those terms in the "English/Polish, Polish/English small book." Someone decided that non-English speaking Polish travellers do not need to know "verb" or "noun" but they do need to know:
fritter - roztrwonić
gherkin - korniszon
Harvey Wallbanger - wódka z sokiem pomarańczowym
plimsolls (!) - tenisówki
Ted speaks Polish at work all day which does hinder his progress, but his English is improving. He has now replaced his home-grown phrase "new week" with the correct phrase "next week" and the above-mentioned "sister-in-love" is gone, which is kind of a shame...
Finnish-Japanese
I'm not quite sure what's happenin' here - I'll have to spend about six hours deciphering it with a Finnish-English dictionary - but at first sight it looks as if three Finnish men travelled to Japan to find Japanese brides. I'm sure that's not what's going on, but you never know. I'll have to get Irma on the case. But it's just lovely to see the beautiful vowel-laden Finnish language in full effect.
Footnotes to Magical, Mythical Elgin
1 "She actually produced it [West Side Story]," said Paul, "same shit though."
2 "Yeah, 750 or so tickets sold every night of the show. Every year they make about 6,000-7,000 GBP and they donate it to Christian Aid."
2 "Yeah, 750 or so tickets sold every night of the show. Every year they make about 6,000-7,000 GBP and they donate it to Christian Aid."
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Magical, Mythical Elgin
Flatmate Paul returned safely from Elgin with reports of having attended a production of "West Side Story" directed by his mother. The show was on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Paul said he attended the Saturday show "because my mom had an extra ticket for that night."
"It was sold out?" I asked, trying to imagine this special little town where the minster's wife directs an annual sell-out musical.
"Yeah, it always sells out."
As Sara would say, "Can you even??"
No Sara, I can't.
"It was sold out?" I asked, trying to imagine this special little town where the minster's wife directs an annual sell-out musical.
"Yeah, it always sells out."
As Sara would say, "Can you even??"
No Sara, I can't.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Animal Instinct
This afternoon I made Ted (the Polish flatmate) leave his dark room and join me for a walk through Edinburgh's lovely Royal Botanic Garden. It's a brisk 10-minute walk from our flat. Well, it was a lovely sunny afternoon and we were joined by squirrels aplenty and busied ourselves reading all the plant names and trying to guess where they were from. China, mostly. But Ted did see a few trees that also live in Poland.
Just as we were leaving the RBG we saw a group of people gathered around the base of a large tree. The attraction? A cat who was perched in the tree comically swiping at all the birds that passed, and scaring the bejeesus out of a treed squirrel. The sideshow was a frantic lady who was of the opinion that house cats should not be allowed in the RBG. Why not? "That cat's scaring the squirrel and he's trying to chase it and I don't want him to hurt it and why is that cat in the Garden?? Who does he belong to?" she asked, looking at me, as if I'm the guardian of all Edinburgh cats. Let me just check my Edinburgh cat rota. "Where does he live?" Again looking at me, and Ted. "I don't want him to hurt that squirrel," she said to Ted whose saving grace was that he only understood the word "I". Now addressing the cat directly, she said: "Go home and eat your Whiskas and leave that poor squirrel alone." Now me addressing the lady as if I were the cat: "Look lady, I'm just following my instincts." It was clearly time to leave the RBG.
Just as we were leaving the RBG we saw a group of people gathered around the base of a large tree. The attraction? A cat who was perched in the tree comically swiping at all the birds that passed, and scaring the bejeesus out of a treed squirrel. The sideshow was a frantic lady who was of the opinion that house cats should not be allowed in the RBG. Why not? "That cat's scaring the squirrel and he's trying to chase it and I don't want him to hurt it and why is that cat in the Garden?? Who does he belong to?" she asked, looking at me, as if I'm the guardian of all Edinburgh cats. Let me just check my Edinburgh cat rota. "Where does he live?" Again looking at me, and Ted. "I don't want him to hurt that squirrel," she said to Ted whose saving grace was that he only understood the word "I". Now addressing the cat directly, she said: "Go home and eat your Whiskas and leave that poor squirrel alone." Now me addressing the lady as if I were the cat: "Look lady, I'm just following my instincts." It was clearly time to leave the RBG.
Lunch mit Wilhelm
Yesterday Patrick (Stuart's German friend) and I drove to St Andrews. The "reason de reise" was three-fold: 1. so Patrick could see the town and decide if he will attend university there next autumn, 2. so I could hijack someone into speaking German with me for more than 10 minutes, and 3. lunch with Prince William, of course.
You can't help but look for Prince William when in St Andrews. Try it. Impossible. Everywhere are tall, light-brown haired fancy looking 20-somethings wearing collared shirts. We even looked for the Prince in the library. Much neck craning, and a few false sightings, but no William. Oder Wilhelm.
You can't help but look for Prince William when in St Andrews. Try it. Impossible. Everywhere are tall, light-brown haired fancy looking 20-somethings wearing collared shirts. We even looked for the Prince in the library. Much neck craning, and a few false sightings, but no William. Oder Wilhelm.
Good News
Paris Hilton says the next season of her T.V. show will be "funner." That's good news for everybody!
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Hold Tight
Dear Readers,
Thursday update:
1. The 'r' on my keyboard is broken now so I have to cut and paste it every time I need to type 'r'. Otherwise the 'r' acts as a 'home' key and returns me up to the start. "It took me 15 minutes to type 'horror'," the b/f told me.
2. The b/f's dissertation is due April 29. He's living at the computer lab now.
3. Paul has escaped to Elgin for the weekend.
4. The Polish one is up to his old shenanigans of working all hours and spilling cooking oil on the kitchen floor late at night and cleaning it up in the fashion of a six-year-old (ie: smearing it around with a cloth). So I left the mop out.
5. The b/f referred to me as his g/f in an e-mail, so from now on he's the b/f.
6. Lecture tomorrow. Gotta run.
Thursday update:
1. The 'r' on my keyboard is broken now so I have to cut and paste it every time I need to type 'r'. Otherwise the 'r' acts as a 'home' key and returns me up to the start. "It took me 15 minutes to type 'horror'," the b/f told me.
2. The b/f's dissertation is due April 29. He's living at the computer lab now.
3. Paul has escaped to Elgin for the weekend.
4. The Polish one is up to his old shenanigans of working all hours and spilling cooking oil on the kitchen floor late at night and cleaning it up in the fashion of a six-year-old (ie: smearing it around with a cloth). So I left the mop out.
5. The b/f referred to me as his g/f in an e-mail, so from now on he's the b/f.
6. Lecture tomorrow. Gotta run.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Wrong German Guy
Dear Paul, (not flatmate-Elgin Paul, but Salzburg-Portland Paul)
In the event that some dear readers don't make it to the comments realm, and therefore might be deprived of some needed hilarity, I'll address you here. RE your latest comment: Information about the *new* Pope, Joseph Ratzinger, cannot be found, as you assert, by following this link.
The *real* *new* Pope has a fan club, formed in his mere Cardinal days. (At www.ratzingerfanclub.com. Wasn't working when I tried it. No doubt besieged by membership enquiries.)
In the event that some dear readers don't make it to the comments realm, and therefore might be deprived of some needed hilarity, I'll address you here. RE your latest comment: Information about the *new* Pope, Joseph Ratzinger, cannot be found, as you assert, by following this link.
The *real* *new* Pope has a fan club, formed in his mere Cardinal days. (At www.ratzingerfanclub.com. Wasn't working when I tried it. No doubt besieged by membership enquiries.)
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Tony McBlair
Is Tony Blair Scottish because he was born in Scotland? (Edinburgh, actually.) I think he would give his nationality as British. Read more on the difference between being English, Scottish, Welsh and British.
Germany Wins
So I hear that the Germans have won the Papacy. Mr Ratzinger, as I have always known him, is the *new* Pope. Some say he might be a "devisive" Pope. I hope he's "indevisive".
Monday, April 18, 2005
Whaddya Know
As if you needed another reason to visit Scotland . . . but here it is: The gentleman who penned 'Wee Willie Winkie', William Miller, is buried in Glasgow, at the Glasgow Necropolis. There you have it. As I like to say, what time does your flight land??
Roving Reporter
Yesterday I spoke with my correspondent in Coachella, CA, who gave reports of a cousin's birthday party and barking dogs. Yes, Aila had much to report. My sister had to confiscate the phone from Aila because she was walking towards her room with it to show me something. Bless.
Friday, April 15, 2005
Contempt of Court
My mom gets called for jury duty and spends a long, boring day at the Ventura County Courthouse hoping she doesn't get chosen for a three-week long construction lawsuit. The other jurors are dropping like flies. Irma is still standing, and it's too late to pull the "I no speak much English" trick. So some "young guy who's a manager at two restaurants" is sitting next to her, and a lady in a rainbow shirt, "really bright, almost shiny", comes into the courtroom and my mom turns to "the young guy" and says, "I wonder if her shirt glows in the dark?" My mom's excuse for cracking-wise in the courtroom is "well, you have to entertain yourself somehow". So the next person called up to the stand is the lady in the glow-in-the-dark rainbow shirt, and she walks right in front of my mom and "the young guy" who "almost start laughing". Troublemaker.
Dear Paul,
You're being anti-social by using the computer in your room. It's much more fun when we both sit in the living room using our laptops. So come through to the living room. Oh, Norette just phoned, she and Robbie are staying over tonight. They're driving down from Dingwall, and should be here around 11. We're going to The Bongo Club.
Anna-Lisa
Anna-Lisa
Where's Emma?
Yesterday evening, from the No. 23 bus, I spotted my friend Emma walking up The Mound, towards the Royal Mile. I swear it was her. "It was the spit of her," as my Irish friends would say. So, I turned to Paul and said, "I hope that wasn't my friend Emma because I would be more than a little upset if she travelled all the way to Edinburgh from Portland, Oregon and didn't visit me." So, Paul, ever the consoling friend, said to me, "that would be hilarious if it was her." So I told him that his entire family was here last weekend, stayed at the Balmoral Hotel, and invited Stuart and me to brunch and made us promise not to tell Paul.
P.S.
Brunch was delicious!
P.S.
Brunch was delicious!
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Baby #2
When Maria was pregnant with Aila, we knew all the stats. Aila was, after all, the first baby to grace our family since me - back in the summer of '75. So, when Maria "fell pregnant" as the Irish would say, we were delighted and uber attentive. (Please excuse the missing umlauts.)
We knew Aila's due date: Maria's doctor had calculated it as September 4, and my mom (have I mentioned she's a witch doctor, I mean midwife?) said September 2 (or was it the other way around??) so Aila, ever the diplomat, arrived on September 3. My mom was available 24 hours a day to provide up-to-the-minute reports on Aila's blood pressure and heart rate, in utero.
With baby #2, who y'all know has been christened Peter Marie, we know nothing.
I asked my mom the other day, "When is Peter Marie's due date?"
"Sometime in May, I think."
Great. Guess there's no need to bring a camera, or buy a baby book.
We knew Aila's due date: Maria's doctor had calculated it as September 4, and my mom (have I mentioned she's a witch doctor, I mean midwife?) said September 2 (or was it the other way around??) so Aila, ever the diplomat, arrived on September 3. My mom was available 24 hours a day to provide up-to-the-minute reports on Aila's blood pressure and heart rate, in utero.
With baby #2, who y'all know has been christened Peter Marie, we know nothing.
I asked my mom the other day, "When is Peter Marie's due date?"
"Sometime in May, I think."
Great. Guess there's no need to bring a camera, or buy a baby book.
Dear Readers,
I know there are thousands of you, and in lieu of writing each of you a letter, I'll update you here on the goings on of this broad abroad:
1. The 'g' on my keyboard is 'on the fritz' again, as they say. So excuse any missing gs
2. It's winter again in Edinburgh, although yesterday it was summer. Who knows what tomorrow brings? (Who sang that song? I think it was a duet, in fact I know it was. Answers accepted until 3pm PST. Caroline, I'm counting on you...)
3. As we speak, so to speak, I am preparing tomorrow's Publishing Mangement lecture on the stages of a publishing project, and the different tools (ie documents) available for project evaluation.
4. Two days ago, on my way to meet some friends for lunch, I was held hostage (in conversation) by a gentleman who kept using the phrase, "If you know your history . . ." followed by some obscure historical fact that he knew. It turned into a festival of one-upmanship which traveled from his knowledge of Italy and the Italian language, side stepped over to my knowledge of Finnish and Finland's glorious history, and then ended when he said: "I have that problem when I speak Ukrainian." And then the number 13 bus arrived, before I was able to pull out the trump card of speaking German. Damn.
5. The Polish flatmate has stopped doing dishes altogether, and yesterday, as I stood at the sink washing his dishes, he told me, 'I don't have time to wash dishes.' So I told him that I am going to charge him 5GBP every day that I wash his dishes. Why didn't I think of this earlier? I'd be a hundredaire.
6. My friend Erin, and her husband Keith, welcomed Ella Elisabeth Matlock into the world, and beautiful Southern California, on April 8, 2005. Congratulations. Erin's mom told my mom who told me that Keith was "walking on air." Isn't that sweet? Yes, it is.
7. I'll be stateside May 25 to June 20 which means you should be bracing yourself for American-centric news reports.
8. More later.
1. The 'g' on my keyboard is 'on the fritz' again, as they say. So excuse any missing gs
2. It's winter again in Edinburgh, although yesterday it was summer. Who knows what tomorrow brings? (Who sang that song? I think it was a duet, in fact I know it was. Answers accepted until 3pm PST. Caroline, I'm counting on you...)
3. As we speak, so to speak, I am preparing tomorrow's Publishing Mangement lecture on the stages of a publishing project, and the different tools (ie documents) available for project evaluation.
4. Two days ago, on my way to meet some friends for lunch, I was held hostage (in conversation) by a gentleman who kept using the phrase, "If you know your history . . ." followed by some obscure historical fact that he knew. It turned into a festival of one-upmanship which traveled from his knowledge of Italy and the Italian language, side stepped over to my knowledge of Finnish and Finland's glorious history, and then ended when he said: "I have that problem when I speak Ukrainian." And then the number 13 bus arrived, before I was able to pull out the trump card of speaking German. Damn.
5. The Polish flatmate has stopped doing dishes altogether, and yesterday, as I stood at the sink washing his dishes, he told me, 'I don't have time to wash dishes.' So I told him that I am going to charge him 5GBP every day that I wash his dishes. Why didn't I think of this earlier? I'd be a hundredaire.
6. My friend Erin, and her husband Keith, welcomed Ella Elisabeth Matlock into the world, and beautiful Southern California, on April 8, 2005. Congratulations. Erin's mom told my mom who told me that Keith was "walking on air." Isn't that sweet? Yes, it is.
7. I'll be stateside May 25 to June 20 which means you should be bracing yourself for American-centric news reports.
8. More later.
Monday, April 11, 2005
Fair Weather Friends
My dad wants me to move to Spain because he's scared of cold weather. He once traveled to Chicago, mid-winter, with no socks. That was the last time he and my mom packed his suitcase 'together'.
My parents were going to come to Scotland, last November, for my graduation, but then they realised it was November, and Scotland. My mom said something about bringing a raincoat 'in case it rains'. It's November, and Scotland. So they ended up not coming because they 'couldn't get the flights'. All booked up, I suppose. November is the best time to come visit Edinburgh, for the Festival of the Grayness.
But now it's spring, which is why it was freezing this past weekend. Mother Winter made one last show, just for kicks. Someone has installed solar panels on the south-facing side of one of Napier University's buildings. April fool's joke, maybe. Stuart pointed them out to me. (I never look up, because then your neck gets cold.) I believe these solar panels would be equally effective if they were installed underneath the building. Fancy a visit?
My parents were going to come to Scotland, last November, for my graduation, but then they realised it was November, and Scotland. My mom said something about bringing a raincoat 'in case it rains'. It's November, and Scotland. So they ended up not coming because they 'couldn't get the flights'. All booked up, I suppose. November is the best time to come visit Edinburgh, for the Festival of the Grayness.
But now it's spring, which is why it was freezing this past weekend. Mother Winter made one last show, just for kicks. Someone has installed solar panels on the south-facing side of one of Napier University's buildings. April fool's joke, maybe. Stuart pointed them out to me. (I never look up, because then your neck gets cold.) I believe these solar panels would be equally effective if they were installed underneath the building. Fancy a visit?
Thursday, April 07, 2005
This is NOT a Hoax
ALL day yesterday I was fending off questions from readers of my blog (there are thousands) about my ties to the D.C.-based author Amanda Hill. Are you really friends with her? Have you known her since you were 16? Did you used to go clubbing in L.A. together? Are you in her book, Love Like That?
Yes, yes, yes and you'll have to buy it to find out.
Yes, yes, yes and you'll have to buy it to find out.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Books
So I've strayed away a bit from the book theme that was the initial purpose of this blog. As we know, The Ferocious Reader has turned into a site where Sister Maria, Cousin Amy and I make comments about how cute my niece is. Oh well. So back to the books. I've found one that we ALL can read.
It so happens that my friend Amanda Hill, who I have known since we were 16-year-olds driving around Ventura in Kelli Sampson's candy-apple red BMW, has written a romance novel Love Like That. It's out now. I think we should all buy three copies. Read reviews here.
LATE BREAKING NEWS:
My dad, Pete, reports that he got a hold of an advance copy of Love Like That and says he "can totally relate" to the "quick-witted, impulsive, aggressively unambitious" main character, Dalton Moss, who is "a halfhearted assistant to a Hollywood events planner" and spends her days "haggling over the price of chicken Florentine and waiting for the workday to end". Thanks Pete!
P.S.
Today just happens to be Kelli Sampson's 30th Birthday. Mandy, will you pass on Birthday wishes to Kelli?
It so happens that my friend Amanda Hill, who I have known since we were 16-year-olds driving around Ventura in Kelli Sampson's candy-apple red BMW, has written a romance novel Love Like That. It's out now. I think we should all buy three copies. Read reviews here.
LATE BREAKING NEWS:
My dad, Pete, reports that he got a hold of an advance copy of Love Like That and says he "can totally relate" to the "quick-witted, impulsive, aggressively unambitious" main character, Dalton Moss, who is "a halfhearted assistant to a Hollywood events planner" and spends her days "haggling over the price of chicken Florentine and waiting for the workday to end". Thanks Pete!
P.S.
Today just happens to be Kelli Sampson's 30th Birthday. Mandy, will you pass on Birthday wishes to Kelli?
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Collect All Six
So, this morning, at about 11:24 when I walked into the kitchen and saw Paul washing dishes, I knew somthing was amiss. Pleasantries exchanged, and Paul pipes up, "Judy's coming over for coffee." This is Judy Rollo. THE Judy Rollo. Paul's older sister, and the ONLY one of the six Rollos I haven't met.
A-L: "Really! Great. When??"
Paul: "Oh, 11:30 or so."
A-L: "What?? You're kidding. I have 6 minutes to make our flat presentable to the eldest Rollo sibling? Our kitchen looks like a gypsy encampment."
Paul: "It's ok, Judy Rollo is always late..."
A-L: "This calls for a toilet scrubbing!! Judy Rollo can't see a dirty bathroom. And hide the Polish flatmate, he hasn't showered yet."
Four minutes later the buzzer goes. There was no time to distract her in the stairwell. No chance to put beer bottles away . . . And then she appeared: Judy Rollo. (With fiancee Gerry, who is kind and funny.) Nice to finally meet you Judy. Come over any time.
A-L: "Really! Great. When??"
Paul: "Oh, 11:30 or so."
A-L: "What?? You're kidding. I have 6 minutes to make our flat presentable to the eldest Rollo sibling? Our kitchen looks like a gypsy encampment."
Paul: "It's ok, Judy Rollo is always late..."
A-L: "This calls for a toilet scrubbing!! Judy Rollo can't see a dirty bathroom. And hide the Polish flatmate, he hasn't showered yet."
Four minutes later the buzzer goes. There was no time to distract her in the stairwell. No chance to put beer bottles away . . . And then she appeared: Judy Rollo. (With fiancee Gerry, who is kind and funny.) Nice to finally meet you Judy. Come over any time.
Friday, April 01, 2005
Well, Is She Still a Girl?
My sister had another ultrasound on Tuesday to see if Peter-Marie is still a girl. I haven't heard a word. Feel free to add comments. (they're fixed now, so anyone can post)
Thursday, March 31, 2005
PJP2
The BBC just told me that the Pope is ailing even more than previously. I'm not Catholic (I'm Lutheran, like all good Finns) but I'm a ward of the Catholic church, having attended Catholic High School and University. And Lutheran is about as close as you can get to Catholic. It's Catholic Lite: "Catholicism without the guilt". That's how we market it. Anywho, I meet PJP2 in March of 1995, when our Salzburg group (not a cult) visited Rome on our Spring Tour. PJP2 said mass and during the blessing I wasn't paying attention so my religious trinkets weren't properly blessed.
So PJP2, thanks for blessin' a Lutheran (Martin would be proud). Sendin' that blessn' right back at ya'.
Peace.
ALS1
So PJP2, thanks for blessin' a Lutheran (Martin would be proud). Sendin' that blessn' right back at ya'.
Peace.
ALS1
Pigeonholed
Yesterday my flatmate Paul returned from a two-week trip to San Francisco with tales of fabulous cafes, Mexican food, views of the Golden Gate Bridge, a snowboarding journey to Tahoe, and most importantly, the acquaintance of a new cat. Here was the conversation:
Paul: "Gregor and Caitlin have the sweetest kitty. The softest fur in the world. Four years old, from the humane society."
Anna-Lisa: "Large or compact?"
Paul: "Quite compact, as a matter of fact."
A-L: "Long- or short-haired?"
Paul (after petting the imaginary cat in his lap): "Short."
A-L: "Lap cat or armchair sitter?"
Paul: "Lap cat for sure. Head butter as a matter of fact."
A-L: "I know the type."
Paul: "Gregor and Caitlin have the sweetest kitty. The softest fur in the world. Four years old, from the humane society."
Anna-Lisa: "Large or compact?"
Paul: "Quite compact, as a matter of fact."
A-L: "Long- or short-haired?"
Paul (after petting the imaginary cat in his lap): "Short."
A-L: "Lap cat or armchair sitter?"
Paul: "Lap cat for sure. Head butter as a matter of fact."
A-L: "I know the type."
Easter Monday
On Easter Monday we (me and others) went whitewater rafting in Aberfeldy, on the River Tay. SPLASH! was the company, cold was the temperature, freezing were my hands and feet, horizontal rain was in the face, rapids fun and good, and Toby our English guide with Australian accent deserved a tip. But the Brits don't tip.
1975
Yes folks, it's been the year of the 30th birthday party. Today another 30 cheers for Erin Matlock (nee Leonard). Erin and I became friends at St Bonaventure High School shortly before her 16th birthday. So we've been friends for 14 years. That's an eternity when you're raised as a gypsy, like I was. I know people who are still best friends with their kindergarden classmates. Impossible for the nomadic Sandstrums. I don't even remember if I went to kindergarden. I must have. By the time my sister was 11 she had been in 42 schools. I have 31 yearbooks. So, to make a birthday wish a long story, happy birthday Erin.
Friday, March 25, 2005
tGif
It's Friday. Good Friday to be precise. And it also happens to be Greek Independence Day, which I know only because it's my friend Sara Checkal's birthday, and EVERY year I use the same tired joke of calling her up and saying "Happy Greek Independence Day", and then at the last minute pretending to remember that it's also her birthday. And this year I added to the hilarity and hijinks by calling and wishing her a Happy Good Friday, which isn't all that funny, if you're Christian. Because the Christians are supposed to be in church today, allllllll day, remembering the suffering of Jesus on the cross. But thank God the Brits didn't get the memo. They're all off today, shopping. And one of my students told me we don't have class today because it's a bank holiday. Yes, Jesus was a huge figure in the British banking community.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Eavesdropping
Last night Stuart and I had dinner at The Apartment, and sat next to a table of four: three men and one woman - two Americans, a Brit, and one VERY LOUD Australian man.
It seemed the American woman, and her British husband, and their American colleague were embarking on a business venture with the Australian man. (I would recommend against it.)
I decided not to say a word, to anyone, not even Stuart (except whispering), for fear that they would detect my American accent and censor their most interesting conversation. There were some gems.
Gem 1: Loud Australian Man (LAM) on California: "San Diego has no history."
Anna-Lisa to LAM (in her head): "Tell that to the Mexicans and the Native Americans, you idiot."
Gem 2: LAM after speaking in French to American Lady (AM) and in reponse to the American Man (AM) saying that he took French for two years and didn't understand what LAM said: "Yes I knew you wouldn't understand, I was using slang, and you wouldn't know it."
Anna-Lisa to LAM (in her head, but louder): "You jackass, where do you get off trying to discourage people from speaking, or trying to speak, a foreign language by intentionally using slang and then insulting their skills??"
Gem 3: British Man (BM): "When I was in California, I couldn't get over how vacuous people were."
Anna-Lisa to BM (in her head): "I'll be sure to pass that on to the folks at CalTech, and at the Jet Propulsion Lab, while I'm at it."
Anna-Lisa to Stuart: "What does 'vacuous' mean?"
Gem 4: LAM on his vast knowledge of America: "When I go to the States, people tell me 'you unsettle me with how much you know about the U.S.'"
How unsettling.
It seemed the American woman, and her British husband, and their American colleague were embarking on a business venture with the Australian man. (I would recommend against it.)
I decided not to say a word, to anyone, not even Stuart (except whispering), for fear that they would detect my American accent and censor their most interesting conversation. There were some gems.
Gem 1: Loud Australian Man (LAM) on California: "San Diego has no history."
Anna-Lisa to LAM (in her head): "Tell that to the Mexicans and the Native Americans, you idiot."
Gem 2: LAM after speaking in French to American Lady (AM) and in reponse to the American Man (AM) saying that he took French for two years and didn't understand what LAM said: "Yes I knew you wouldn't understand, I was using slang, and you wouldn't know it."
Anna-Lisa to LAM (in her head, but louder): "You jackass, where do you get off trying to discourage people from speaking, or trying to speak, a foreign language by intentionally using slang and then insulting their skills??"
Gem 3: British Man (BM): "When I was in California, I couldn't get over how vacuous people were."
Anna-Lisa to BM (in her head): "I'll be sure to pass that on to the folks at CalTech, and at the Jet Propulsion Lab, while I'm at it."
Anna-Lisa to Stuart: "What does 'vacuous' mean?"
Gem 4: LAM on his vast knowledge of America: "When I go to the States, people tell me 'you unsettle me with how much you know about the U.S.'"
How unsettling.
Sunday, March 20, 2005
If you're a thrift shopper . . .
. . . you will enjoy this delightful blog with photos and writings on all things Thrift Store. Namely fabulous finds. We (meaning me, writing in the style of a gay man) love this site. (Note to my father: I am NOT a gay man.)
Go Wales
Many congratulations to Wales, which has just won the Six Nations Rugby Tournament, "in Grand Slam style," adds Stuart. It's a huge win for the small nation, and cost one Welshman dearly when they beat England in February. Oh dear.
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Spring Break 2005
My dad, the seasoned business traveler, has a word of advice for people traveling this coming week: "Don't."
Pete has just experienced the joy of traveling during Spring Break 2005. The airport was apparently filled with millions and millions and millions of "college kids."
"They're all over the place," Pete said, "and they just don't know what they're doin', they don't travel so they don't know where to go, and they ask questions."
The nerve of them.
I imagine by the time you've been flying four times a week for thirty years, your airport routine is pretty well choreographed, and these "amateurs" just get in the way. It took Pete 24 hours of traveling time to get from Medford, Oregon, to Los Angeles, via San Jose, uh, no, flight cancelled, make that via Portland and Denver, not counting an overnight stay at the Marriott in Portland.
Welcome home Pete. Where ya' flyin' to this week?
Pete has just experienced the joy of traveling during Spring Break 2005. The airport was apparently filled with millions and millions and millions of "college kids."
"They're all over the place," Pete said, "and they just don't know what they're doin', they don't travel so they don't know where to go, and they ask questions."
The nerve of them.
I imagine by the time you've been flying four times a week for thirty years, your airport routine is pretty well choreographed, and these "amateurs" just get in the way. It took Pete 24 hours of traveling time to get from Medford, Oregon, to Los Angeles, via San Jose, uh, no, flight cancelled, make that via Portland and Denver, not counting an overnight stay at the Marriott in Portland.
Welcome home Pete. Where ya' flyin' to this week?
Spring Has Sprung
Edinburgh was springy and sunny and warm today. Folks went crazy, wearin' t-shirts and shorts and such. And when I say "springy and sunny and warm" I'm talkin' 50 F.
Monday, March 14, 2005
Only in Scotland
Stuart to Anna-Lisa: "My grandad used to have that exact same trailer. It's for hauling sheep."
Sunday, March 13, 2005
My Conversation With Aila
Yesterday I spoke with Aila on the phone. I had called my sister to get a recipe, so while she looked for it, she put Aila on the line.
This is how it went:
Anna-Lisa: Hi, what are you doing? I miss you. You are so cute. What's going on?
Aila: Ad nentisedtty diosnmek beeboondim.
Maria (in the background): We're coloring.
Anna-Lisa: Are you coloring?
Aila: yea
Anna-Lisa: Are you having a good time?
Aila: yea
Anna-Lisa: Do you miss me?
Aila: No.
This is how it went:
Anna-Lisa: Hi, what are you doing? I miss you. You are so cute. What's going on?
Aila: Ad nentisedtty diosnmek beeboondim.
Maria (in the background): We're coloring.
Anna-Lisa: Are you coloring?
Aila: yea
Anna-Lisa: Are you having a good time?
Aila: yea
Anna-Lisa: Do you miss me?
Aila: No.
Friday, March 11, 2005
A Book In The Works??
If you followed the Scott Peterson trial, which maybe I did, this guy might write an interesting book.
Aila's Art
Three original pieces of artwork by my niece Aila Maria will be on display in Edinburgh on Monday, March 21st, delivered by Noreen, a co-worker of my sister's who is a dealer in the high stakes world of International Baby Niece Art. In other words, Maria is sending with Noreen some paper Aila coloured on. It will be Edinburgh's National Gallery soon, I'm sure.
Overheard (not Overhead) in Britain
Overheard on the bus: Lady to husband/longtime boyfriend, "I think I should just be straightforward with Karen." (When is that NOT a good idea?)
Paul to Stuart: "Do you remember that dog training show that used to be on television?" (British television is full of hidden, slightly dusty gems.)
Paul to Stuart: "Do you remember that dog training show that used to be on television?" (British television is full of hidden, slightly dusty gems.)
Fear Not Dear Readers
I am here to talk you through your Friday afternoon. The loooooong Friday afternoon when every hour stretches for many minutes more than the real hour until you look at the clock and think it's 4:04 p.m. and it's 11:33 a.m. I am here for you.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Scenic Camden
Yes, I know I titled a very recent post "Scenic Lebanon", but there are no Syrians in this story, and no "drive for democracy to distract from America's need for a pipeline through Lebanon" subtext.
So forgive me, Caroline, when you sent me a link to a festival in Camden I immediately thought Camden, England, home of the world-famous Camden Markets. Well, Caroline is selling a very different festival. One whose web site includes this quote:
So forgive me, Caroline, when you sent me a link to a festival in Camden I immediately thought Camden, England, home of the world-famous Camden Markets. Well, Caroline is selling a very different festival. One whose web site includes this quote:
"Begin your adventure in the Great Hall of the United First Methodist Church smack in the middle of town with the festival banners flying!"Yes, you guessed it, the Camden Daffodil Festival, 12th Annual, might I add, in Camden, Arkansas. You can even "dance in the streets".
Friday, March 04, 2005
Nationbuilding & One-upmanship
The Scene: The bustop at Craighouse Campus of Napier University, this afternoon.
I approached the bustop and recognized my friend Mark. He studies Sociology and is speaking to two people I don't know. One is a woman, thirties, another is a man, twenties, with his back to me, who has an American-ish accent. Possibly Canadian.
Mark: "What is your e-mail address?"
Guy With Back to Me (GWBTM): "It's on the sheet. Or, you can Google me."
Woman in Thirties (WIT): "Nothing comes up when you put my name in Google."
GWBTM: "A lot comes up when you Google me."
Anna-Lisa: (interrupting) "Where are you from? Are you American?"
GWBTM: "I was raised in Iowa."
Anna-Lisa: "But you're not American? Where are you from?"
GWBTM: "I don't really believe in nationalities. What are borders? Why should I conform to borders that were set up arbitrarily by the government, some imaginary line that I can't freely cross?" (like it's the thousandth time he's recited this verse.)
Anna-Lisa: "What kind of passport do you have?"
GWBTM: "A blue one, but I'm getting a red one."
Anna-Lisa: "Oh, so you're American. How are you getting a red one?"
GWBTM: "I have 'Indefinite Leave to Remain'."
Anna-Lisa: "How did you get that?"
GWBTM: "Well, my partner's British*, and so through her. I think I'm supposed to be really grateful that I got it. I had to go through a lot of red tape. Are you over here studying?"
Anna-Lisa: "Actually," (insert condescending long pause while I think about how cool I am), "actually, I just finished my Masters**, and I'm working here, at Napier. What are you doing here?"
GWBTM: "I just finished my PhD at the University of Edinburgh and I'm teaching 'Gender & Sexuality' here at Napier."
Anna-Lisa: "Oh, cool." Quickly turns to Mark who is from the Sheltand Islands and asks: "How are the ponies?"
*(Mentally interrupting him here saying, "I thought you didn't believe in nationalities?????!!!!" (in the style of an 11-year-old)
**It was capitalized in my head.
I approached the bustop and recognized my friend Mark. He studies Sociology and is speaking to two people I don't know. One is a woman, thirties, another is a man, twenties, with his back to me, who has an American-ish accent. Possibly Canadian.
Mark: "What is your e-mail address?"
Guy With Back to Me (GWBTM): "It's on the sheet. Or, you can Google me."
Woman in Thirties (WIT): "Nothing comes up when you put my name in Google."
GWBTM: "A lot comes up when you Google me."
Anna-Lisa: (interrupting) "Where are you from? Are you American?"
GWBTM: "I was raised in Iowa."
Anna-Lisa: "But you're not American? Where are you from?"
GWBTM: "I don't really believe in nationalities. What are borders? Why should I conform to borders that were set up arbitrarily by the government, some imaginary line that I can't freely cross?" (like it's the thousandth time he's recited this verse.)
Anna-Lisa: "What kind of passport do you have?"
GWBTM: "A blue one, but I'm getting a red one."
Anna-Lisa: "Oh, so you're American. How are you getting a red one?"
GWBTM: "I have 'Indefinite Leave to Remain'."
Anna-Lisa: "How did you get that?"
GWBTM: "Well, my partner's British*, and so through her. I think I'm supposed to be really grateful that I got it. I had to go through a lot of red tape. Are you over here studying?"
Anna-Lisa: "Actually," (insert condescending long pause while I think about how cool I am), "actually, I just finished my Masters**, and I'm working here, at Napier. What are you doing here?"
GWBTM: "I just finished my PhD at the University of Edinburgh and I'm teaching 'Gender & Sexuality' here at Napier."
Anna-Lisa: "Oh, cool." Quickly turns to Mark who is from the Sheltand Islands and asks: "How are the ponies?"
*(Mentally interrupting him here saying, "I thought you didn't believe in nationalities?????!!!!" (in the style of an 11-year-old)
**It was capitalized in my head.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Scenic Lebanon
I can't wait until the Syrians get out and we can all go to scenic Lebanon. My dad always says, "You know, they used to call Beirut the 'Paris of the Middle East' and then they ruined it." Well, Peter, maybe in a few years we can go visit.
Publishing Management I - Lecture 4
I am putting together the presentation for this Friday's lecture on assets and liabilities and I came up with this super-original genuis quote:
"In financial matters, if there is one word that clearly expresses a concept, there will be three words for it."
"In financial matters, if there is one word that clearly expresses a concept, there will be three words for it."
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
The, A, or Your?
This morning as I was getting ready for work Ted appeared in the kitchen. I was wearing a black top, black skirt and black boots and Ted said to me, "you look like manager." His manager, a manager, or the manager??? It's been troubling me all day. Somewhere I have a staff.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Oops
They said Gidget died last week so I've been mourning Sally Field who it turns out is alive and well. Oops.
Billie Jean
So this afternoon I tricked my flatmate Ted into cleaning by hypnotizing him with the music of Michael Jackson. Ted and Michael and I did the dishes, scrubbed the counters, and swept and washed the floor. And when "Billie Jean" came on Ted said, "oh this music good." Michael Jackson. Yes, Ted, it's good. He's very talented. And the next thing Ted said was, "Michael Jackson black man, white afro." I hear ya.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Let Me Make This Perfectly Clear, Paul
I hate magic. I don't hate magicians, I just hate magic. And I don't think magicians are conceited as you falsly assert on your blog, I just think they have no friends. Magic is not magic, by the way. It's fake. It's people lying to you and trying to make you believe that something they just did is not possible. Well, guess what? It is possible. You know why? Because they just did it. So you can send as many people as you want to your magician friend's web site, but I'm not sold. Because I don't want what he's selling: lies. And besides, I know how all the tricks work. They involve "magic" decks of cards with 52 Aces of spades, and secret plastic thumb extensions, and creepy secret pockets in coat cuffs. You know how I know? because I spent two years of my life going to conventions and a "magician" worked at our booth. And he wasn't conceited. The end. Good night.
Dear Readers
I feel the obligation to entertain you on your Friday afternoon. Although I remember well, from my many years of living in the States, that the Friday after President's Day REALLY seems like a Thursday, due to the time warp that Abraham Lincoln 'enacted' when he died. (Note to my dad: No, I am not on drugs.) So nonetheless, I will offer you some entertainment on your Thursday afternoon.
Actually, not much to say. Paul, my flatmate, (not Paul who's not my flatmate who lives in Portland) has enacted a "No Dish Left Behind" policy in an attempt to curb the non-dishwashing antics of our Polish flatmate. Unfortunately, for Ted the "Pole" to understand and appreciate the hilarity, and punniness, of this new policy, we would have to teach him first about the "No Child Left Behind" .
Meanwhile, here's what that pesky Scott Peterson is up to.
Actually, not much to say. Paul, my flatmate, (not Paul who's not my flatmate who lives in Portland) has enacted a "No Dish Left Behind" policy in an attempt to curb the non-dishwashing antics of our Polish flatmate. Unfortunately, for Ted the "Pole" to understand and appreciate the hilarity, and punniness, of this new policy, we would have to teach him first about the "No Child Left Behind" .
Meanwhile, here's what that pesky Scott Peterson is up to.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Edinburgh Snowcam
This is what it looks like right now (!) in the city of Edinburgh. Pretty, huh? Tell me it's pretty.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Ask Eric About His Doll
Now that I've exposed Eric and his love for cabbage patch dolls, I should direct you to his site so you can meet the man for yourself. He's a funny one. My friend once asked him to describe his hometown in three words. Eric replied: "Very boring, ma'am." Very clever, Eric.
The Rosetta Stone of Blackmail
This photo of my friend Eric and his little brother with their cabbage patch dolls would be the ultimate blackmail photo, except I got the photo from him...
Mr. Bloggy, My Mentor
My old* boss Dwayne Melancon has a blog where he writes about mentoring, and priorities, and procrastinating, and other smart business stuff. (Dwayne's the one whose brow is featured in the top right.)
I worked for/with Dwayne at Tripwire Inc. in Portland in 2000. Let me tell you about Dwayne:
-he is from Louisiana, and he's allergic to shellfish (see the irony?????)
-he didn't get mad at me when I broke the Galileo Thermometer in his office
-he was a fair, smart, kind and funny boss
-he and his wife and three kids came to my family reunion in 2002 (to the auction)
-he didn't fire me when I opened an e-mail attachment that spread a virus to EVERYONE at Tripwire
So whatever you read on his site, you got the real scoop here.
*former, not elderly
I worked for/with Dwayne at Tripwire Inc. in Portland in 2000. Let me tell you about Dwayne:
-he is from Louisiana, and he's allergic to shellfish (see the irony?????)
-he didn't get mad at me when I broke the Galileo Thermometer in his office
-he was a fair, smart, kind and funny boss
-he and his wife and three kids came to my family reunion in 2002 (to the auction)
-he didn't fire me when I opened an e-mail attachment that spread a virus to EVERYONE at Tripwire
So whatever you read on his site, you got the real scoop here.
*former, not elderly
Monday, February 21, 2005
Overhead in Edinburgh - 19 February 2004
Overhead while walking down Princes Street: "I always end up over-ambitiousizing," a super-humble confession by one over-ambitious gentleman to his duly impressed lady friend.
The New Job
Well the new job as a lecturer at Napier University (www.napier.ac.uk) is going 'grand', as the Irish would say. I'm teaching Publishing Management I and so far (in week 3) my students are delightful and good. They are, on the whole, very bright and interested. (Of course I have to say this because this information lives on the Internet and one of them might stumble upon it, when 'googling' my name.) So I feel this new connection to academia, as it were, has affected my ability to post silly and ridiculous and sometimes controversial things to my blog. So from now on I will be posting lecture notes.
Love,
The Teacher
Love,
The Teacher
Thank Goodness
Blogger has announced that they've updated the way the comments work, so you don't have to open a Blogger account to comment. So, comment away.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Update on My Niece's Vocabulary
My sister reports that Aila 'is still speaking Chinese, but now with a smattering of English words like "Bee," "No," "Hot," "Hat," "Apple," "Bird," "Ernie," (Sesame Street influence) "Shoe," "Back Pack," "Good Girl," and the inevitable "Mine!"'
A Royal Do
As you might have heard, Charles and Camilla are getting married on April 8. I, for one, am happy for them. I declined the invitation to be a bridesmaid. It's for the best, as the Queen was not particularly thrilled at the idea of having a Yank's mug on the commemorative mugs.
Monday, February 07, 2005
New Job
This Friday I start work at Napier University as a lecturer in Publishing Management. The students are second-year undergraduates. So I guess that means I have to start conducting myself like a teacher. When I was in sixth grade, I went to my friend Heidi's house, and she lived next door to Mrs. Biesendorfer, our teacher. And Mrs. Biesendorfer was wearing jeans! Teachers don't wear jeans.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Internationalityness
My sister, Maria, passes on the link below to words wonderful and foreign - to English speakers at least.
http://www.wordswithoutborders.org/article.php?lab=InOtherWords
Oh, and Happy Groundhog Day.
http://www.wordswithoutborders.org/article.php?lab=InOtherWords
Oh, and Happy Groundhog Day.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Polish-Style Potato Pancakes
Last night Ted made dinner. Platskis, I think. Potato pancakes they were. He called his wife to get the recipe: flour, eggs, onion, potatoes (grated), salt, pepper, fry in oil until yummy. (And until every dish in the house is coated in oil.) Mmmmmm.
Ted's English Skills
The Polish Flatmate, Ted, has mastered English. When you can make people laugh in a second language then you are fluent. And the other night, when we were playing cards and Paul was falling asleep, Ted said, "Paul is kaput." Now that's fluency.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
Southfork
My flatmate Paul says that when he was younger his mom had a dress from the "Sue Ellen" collection. "She hasn't worn it in like 15 years," he said, unnecessarily.
Friday, January 28, 2005
Polish Lessons
Well, the English lessons for the Polish flatmate are coming along nicely. His vocabulary is steadily increasing, and he can now conjugate "to be" and "to have" in the present tense. We'll be reading Pride & Prejudice by March. I think he'll really identify with the Bennet sisters. Elizabeth Bennet, in particular.
This week I started Finnish classes. Two of the three other students speak better Finnish than I do, which is a definite plus. That way I can steal vocabulary from their brains. This week I learned the word "halla" which is Finnish for "summer night frost", which has been known to ruin a crop of grain, or two.
This week I started Finnish classes. Two of the three other students speak better Finnish than I do, which is a definite plus. That way I can steal vocabulary from their brains. This week I learned the word "halla" which is Finnish for "summer night frost", which has been known to ruin a crop of grain, or two.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Michelle
My cousin Michelle, who is 32 years old, is in a coma in a hospital in Salem, Oregon. She suffered a massive stroke as a result of bacterial meningitis. She is on life support. Her liver is failing, she has a staph infection, and a heart murmur, and has suffered severe brain damage as a result of the stroke. Michelle has been a heroin user for many years. It has taken its toll on her body.
Monday, January 24, 2005
The Funniest Thing I Read Today
My friend Paul wrote this:
"A friend in need is a friend indeed. A friend in Gresham* is on his own, because I'm sure as hell not driving out to that @@@@hole to pick him up."
*Insert: Riverside or Leith, depending on where you live.
"A friend in need is a friend indeed. A friend in Gresham* is on his own, because I'm sure as hell not driving out to that @@@@hole to pick him up."
*Insert: Riverside or Leith, depending on where you live.
The Amazing Human Brain
I'm a big fan of the human brain. I currently have the pleasure of watching the human brain learn a foreign language. Paul and I are teaching our new flatmate English. "Ted" is a very eager student. Paul has taught him Ace, King, Queen, and Jack, and I have taught him the pronouns. "Cards are an international language," my mom said the other night on the phone. Indeed.
Friday, January 21, 2005
Peter-Marie
My sister is having another girl. She is expected to arrive mid May. So we have four months to decide on a name. And when I say 'we', I mean my sister and her husband, Hector. But that won't stop me from making suggestions.
Maria and Hector, when choosing the baby's name, should consider several things. The name should:
Maria and Hector, when choosing the baby's name, should consider several things. The name should:
- sound good with their last name, Romero
- not 'clash' with the name of their first born, Aila (Layla, for example, would not be a wise choice.)
- reflect the baby's American/Finnish/Mexican heritage
- look good on a business card (in case the baby turns out to be Executive Material)
- honour as many relatives as possible
Of course the last point leads to the most hilarity. (See title.) This baby is related to people named: Ritva Maija-Liisa, Halsey Peter Pleasant, Nettie, Olavi Mattias, Selia, Poulette, Sarafia, to name just a few. We've had a good time coming up with combinations thereof. My favourite so far is Peter-Marie. My sister likes Peter Rose. (After my dad and his sister Rose Marie.)
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
PSL (Polish as a Second Language)
Paul and I have a new flatmate. His name is Ted. We think. But that's probably not his real name, because he's Polish, and it must be more exciting than Ted. He's been in Edinburgh since November, and he has a wife and two kids back in Poland. Ted is here to work and learn English, and send money back home.
These are some of the English words/phrases he knows:
zero
tea
good night
thank you
years
ashtray
May 2006
Good thing he brought a Polish/English dictionary and a phrasebook with him.
He is going back to Poland in May 2006 for his daughter's First Communion. That's a long time to be away from your kids.
These are some of the English words/phrases he knows:
zero
tea
good night
thank you
years
ashtray
May 2006
Good thing he brought a Polish/English dictionary and a phrasebook with him.
He is going back to Poland in May 2006 for his daughter's First Communion. That's a long time to be away from your kids.
Monday, January 17, 2005
Just finished reading . . .
Bringing Down the House: The Inside Story of Six MIT Students Who Took Vegas for Millions by Ben Mezrich
and
Hell's Angels by Hunter S. Thompson
and
Hell's Angels by Hunter S. Thompson
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Fame
In second grade Valerie S. came to school and told everyone her uncle owned Disneyland. And we all knew she was lying, mainly because she wore an off-the-shoulder blouse on picture day, which I thought was highly inappropriate, and also because she didn't have any free tickets. And then, for some reason, the other night at dinner my Dad asked Stuart, who was visiting from Scotland, if I had told him that my dad's brother's step-daughter's husband's half sister was Lynnette "Squeaky" Fromme, who tried to assasinate President Ford in 1975. No, hadn't come up.
Apparently cousin Lynnette, if I can call her that (or cousin Squeaky, which is more fun), is due to be released this coming September. At least that's the impression I got from the inmate fact sheet listing her vitals (her middle name is Alice), which gave 09/05/2005 as her 'Projected Release Date.' Hopefully Squeaky's not reading the date by the European method which would lead her to think that she were going to be released on May 9, 2005. Either way, she'll be out in time to attend the next Family Reunion. (It's scheduled for Hood River, July 2006. At the fairgrounds. Turn right if you're headed East on I-84 from Portland. If you turn left you'll be in the Columbia River!) Squeaky could donate some of her unique, acid-trip inspired embroidery to the auction at the Family Reunion. (All proceeds go towards paying for the next reunion.)
Apparently cousin Lynnette, if I can call her that (or cousin Squeaky, which is more fun), is due to be released this coming September. At least that's the impression I got from the inmate fact sheet listing her vitals (her middle name is Alice), which gave 09/05/2005 as her 'Projected Release Date.' Hopefully Squeaky's not reading the date by the European method which would lead her to think that she were going to be released on May 9, 2005. Either way, she'll be out in time to attend the next Family Reunion. (It's scheduled for Hood River, July 2006. At the fairgrounds. Turn right if you're headed East on I-84 from Portland. If you turn left you'll be in the Columbia River!) Squeaky could donate some of her unique, acid-trip inspired embroidery to the auction at the Family Reunion. (All proceeds go towards paying for the next reunion.)
Friday, January 14, 2005
Entschuldigung??
So Prince Harry is in hot water because he dressed like a Nazi officer (in the desert uniform) at a friend's birthday party. (see http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/4170083.stm) Apparently the theme of the party was "native and colonial''. That's progressive. And who is still renting out Nazi desert uniform costumes??
Thursday, January 13, 2005
The Funniest Thing I Heard Today
At lunch today, my friend and co-worker Robert told us that when he was 10 years old he called his younger sister a "German pig" and was sent to his room for "like two days."
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
rain rain rain rain
I was home for Christmas, in Southern California, and it rained and rained and rained and rained. And then I spent some time with my adorable niece and we watched it rain and rain and rain and rain. And then it kept raining and raining. And last night I got back to Edinburgh. And my mom called to say that they woke up and it was sunny.
Sunday, January 09, 2005
Stay Tuned . . .
Soon to return to Edinburgh.
Have been in rainy Southern California.
My niece? Still a genius.
Have been in rainy Southern California.
My niece? Still a genius.
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