Ram it

Don't you love it when you discover a hilarious video on YouTube completely on your own? A few years ago I was looking for songs with the word 'ram' in them (my spouse's nickname is Ram) and came across this gem.

Things to consider when watching:

• This was an actual NFL team. They're now the St. Louis Rams, apparently. #AmericanFootball

• The guys rapping in the video are the athletes themselves.

• Imagine this happening today. Can you picture Beast Mode rapping to a song called 'Hawk It'?

• The song is really good.

• This should be mandatory for all NFL teams.

Also, after Googling the song I now realize that I'm not the only one whose been fascinated by its existence. Turns out, there are tons of articles about how amazing it is. Still, I'm proud that I came across it organically.

In other news, I went camping and now I'm back. It was great. Here's a brief, chronological summary:

Lake.

Foil dinners.

Campfire.

Tent. 

Hike. 

Game.

Town. 

Campfire. 

Tent.
Deer.
Taco Time. 

Back to the grind tomorrow! Nighty night. 

Love, 

Margaret

US: world #1 in WPC

Weirdos Per Capita.

Andy pointed it out during one of his visits here.

"Americans are just so much more comfortable being weird!"

And it's true. After a week in Seaside and a stroll along the Alki strip this afternoon, it's clearer than ever. Americans are weird.

Today I saw a guy, shirt off, jean shorts, spiky blond hair, gliding down the sidewalk with a boombox on his skateboard blaring '90s rap. Further down the road a 50-year-old man was waxing his motorcycle while listening to 'Backstreet's Back' on full blast.

In Seaside, I saw entire families dressed in matching sweatsuits with neon 'Seaside' lettering across their butts.

Dogs in strollers? Yep!

Gangster knee tattoos? Oh yeah!

Tai Chi on the side of a busy road? Of course!

Lounge chairs and BBQ-ing in the driveway? Cool!

Crocs with dresses / high heels with exercise shorts / barefoot in public? Yes! Yes! Yes!

This stuff just doesn't happen in Britain.

Maybe it would have been more accurate (and kinder) for Andy to say that Americans are comfortable being different. Unlike Brits, we don't mind standing out in a crowd. Or we aren't even aware that we're standing out. Or we realise that, in a country full of sore thumbs, there's actually no such thing as standing out. When everyone's weird, "weird" loses its meaning.

Alki today.

In these first few weeks back, I've also been struck by how friendly everyone is. That's something you hear Brits say often—"Americans are so friendly!" I never fully understood it until now. It's not just cheery baristas and overly helpful door greeters at The Gap. It's totally random strangers being totally randomly friendly, all the time.

Example. You're standing in a long line at Starbucks and your phone rings. It's your sister. You ask her if she wants a drink. Everyone she's with also wants something, so you say "hang on a second" and then type up the list of orders on your phone.

In the US, it would not be strange for the person behind you to say something like, "I bet you're sorry you asked!" after you hung up. You'd respond, "Geesh, I know!" and the two of you would share a chuckle.

In the UK, this wouldn't happen. Of course the person behind you would have eavesdropped on your conversation—it's impossible not to—but they wouldn't want you to know they had. Talking to you about the call would mean acknowledging that they listened in on it, and they simply wouldn't be comfortable with that.

The UK has many virtues (GOING TO THE DENTIST COSTS $12!!!!!), but they're lacking in weirdos. Even the weirdos they do have are generic weirdos. Here in Yankland, particularly on the west coast, weirdos grow on trees.

Speaking of trees, have I told you about the trees here?

Sincerely,
Weird in Washington*

P.S. Pronounced Warshington

Microsoft, lock up your cricket players!

Andy has the green light to move to Seattle! His visa was approved.

Because I'm lazy and it's 11:11pm (woah, all 1s), I'll copy/paste our gchat conversation below.

Friday, March 27, 2015 7:17 AM

Andy Williamson

hi lunk

Margaret Kay

YES

hi

should I call

Andy Williamson

I'm in s-bucks and et's pretty besy

so i cannae really talk

Margaret Kay

OH OK RAM

GOOD JOB

How was it?!?/1/!

Andy Williamson

so easy

total time in the embassy (including queuing) 2 hours

total time spent talking to embassy staff - 3 minutes

Margaret Kay

What!? Crazy! And they told you it was "approved"?

Andy Williamson

interview 1 was where i handed in all the forms, then I sat back down

then I got called through to the interview woman who asked very, very cursory questions

and then just said, yep, that's good enough for me

---

After all the hassle of getting the visa documents together (long story, but it involves some tax forms being dropped off and left for dead at a jewellery shop by an idiot postman), I was SHOCKED that he was approved in just a few minutes.

We were prepared for the worst, and expected the worst. But we ended up with the best case scenario, all things considered.

I told him we all wear American flags behind our ears (shhhhh! don't tell - it's a hilarious prank)

There is one thing. After the interview, Andy spent a lovely day in London with some mates before hopping on the Tube for London City Airport to make his 9:20pm flight back to Edinburgh. Only problem is that he was booked on the 7:45pm flight. All that visa success went to his head and he forgot he booked the earlier flight! Luckily, he was able to make it to the train station in time to blag his way into a first class ticket on the Caledonian Sleeper for the price of coach. In fact, he's snoozing to the sound of "Chugga Chugga Choo Choo" as I type this. 

Now, if you'll please join me in raising your glass to our newest United States resident, Andy Williamson! 

Hip hip? Hooray! 

Hip hip? Hooray! 

Hip hip? Hooray! 

Hmmm...should those "hip hips" have ended in a question mark? I'm second guessing myself. 

Egads. Two stream-of-consciousness blog posts in a row. 

Cheerio, Margaret 

P.S. The title of this post was a spin on "Mothers, lock up your daughters!" Just FYI. 

P.P.S. Remember a few weeks ago when I wrote about how my friend Tori and her sister thought the Kool & the Gang song lyrics were "Celebrate the Taj Mahal"? Well, today my nieces and I were having a dance party to celebrate finishing an alphabet jigsaw puzzle and a certain bro-in-law of mine starting singing, "Celebrations now, come on!" I mean, hilarious. Kool, you and your gang clearly need to annunciate better.

Your tax dollars at work

Just when I have doubts that there's no room left for another marketing agency in this world, something changes my mind. Today, it was a video from the US Embassy in London.

Before you watch, things to keep in mind:

• This is an OFFICIAL video, from the US Embassy in London's OFFICIAL YouTube channel. 

• The video is only 4 years old. 

• This is the embassy that recently commissioned an artist to design a hideous $1 million granite sculpture to be displayed in the building. So, they're not necessarily on a tight budget. 

Yeeesh. I've always wondered how many record scratch sound effects are too many, and now I have my answer.

US State Department, if you're reading this, please let me produce your next video. I'm a whiz with iMovie (proof), and I'll probably charge you less than half what you paid for this steaming turd.

In other news, today I:

• Walked to the Kenmore Starbucks and worked on the website for an upcoming business venture with my sistahs.

• Bought healthcare. The lady from WA Healthplanfinder was nice and helpful, so maybe the government isn't all that bad. However, whoever signed off on 'Healthplanfinder' as one word needs to be fired.

• Got new running shoes in the mail. 

• Ate dinner at Kid Valley with my parents. We admired the view of Kenmore Premix and agreed that it's actually kind of cool, in a vintage, industrial sort of way. The city has promised us a fancy Kirkland-style waterfront for years now, but let's ask ourselves: are we really prepared to see the Premix go? 

Peace be with you,
Margaret

P.S. Thanks Andy for sending me the video.

P.P.S. Just watched the video for a fifth time, and I think I like it now. I'm rooting for the poor guy. And I'm right there with him when he does the "YES!" arms in the air thing. GREAT video. Love it.

Cracker aisle glory

I'm sure you're still reeling from Rob Kardashian's latest Instagram post, but take a break from your speculating to read tonight's post.

It's about crackers.

America has a lot wrong with it. Guns. Healthcare. Ill-fitting jeans. But the one thing it does better than any other country in the world: CRACKERS!

In the UK, they don't even have crackers. Well, not really. They have crisps and oatcakes and Ryvita Thins and "savoury biscuits". They  have very buttery, Ritz-style things that are richer than a flourless fudge cake. You can eat a couple, but a plateful will make you ill. And I suppose they have these things called "cream crackers" that are like Saltines minus the salt. They're so flavorless that the Brits butter them. Yep, they spread butter on their crackers in the UK and then they eat them, just like that.

So you can imagine my excitement when I walked down the cracker aisle at QFC today. I felt like Templeton from Charlotte's Web. What a smorgasboard!

• Triscuits!
• Wheat Thins!
• Cheeze-Its!
• Cheese Nips!
• Ritz!
• Saltines!
• Ak-Maks!
• Club Crackers!
• Pita Bites!
• Goldfish!

The list goes on and on. Also, each of the above has at least two variations, even if it's just a reduced-salt version and a regular version. According to my calculations, there 12 flavors of Goldfish crackers. Count 'em.

1. Original
2. Cheddar
3. Parmesean
4. Graham
5. Cheddar Colors
6. Xtra Cheddar
7. Wild White Cheddar
8. Slammin' Sour Cream & Onion
9. Xplosive Pizza
10. Burstin' BBQ
11. Nacho Cheese
12. Queso Fiesta

Image by Pennybinary via Flickr

If variety is the spice of life, then the cracker aisle is the spiciest place on earth.

And now, for the inevitable question: are you a Triscuit person or a Wheat Thin person? I picked a side a long time ago, but I forget which side I picked. I think  it was Wheat Thins, because they're easier to consume in large quantities. But the truth is, I like them both.

Cheers,
Margaret

Lease be with you

Today was my first day as a born-again American.

Top of my 'to do' list? Make a bowl cut appointment with the family hairdresser, Lida at HairMasters. That was easy. I'm going on Friday.

Next on the list? Sign up for healthcare. It's proving a trickier task.

In order to apply for 'Special Enrollment' (because Open Enrollment has closed) I need to upload proof of my change of address to the Washington State healthcare website. They'll accept a letter from either a government agency or a utility company.

I tried:

• Updating my voter registration details and requesting a voter registration card, but the address they had on file was already the Kenmore address. 

• Requesting a statement on my student loans, but they only send them via email. 

• Registering an official account at the Social Security website, thinking I may be able to request some sort of official pamphlet. No can do. And ordering a new SS card would cost $$.

• Paying $13 to get an official Driving Record from the Department of Licensing. But what happened after I entered my card details and clicked 'confirm'? That's right, the page re-directed to a PDF of the records to PRINT AT HOME!

Finally, I decided to call WA Health Finder to see if they would accept any alternative documents. Maybe I could just scan in my passport? I could also include my UK visa to show that the expiration date corresponds with my move back to the US?

I spoke to a man called Devoski, who told me that the only other document they would accept is a lease.

D: "Your other option would be to have your Mom create a lease and then have you sign it."

M: "Oh, really? Like, just have her write up a lease?"

D: "Well, not 'write up', but, you know, like get one..."

M: "Oh, so does it have to be notarized or something?"

D: "No, it just needs to be a lease."

M: "OK, so my Mom makes a lease and then I sign it?"

D: "Yes."

—Let me jump in here to say I was pretty skeptical at this point. Have my very own mother type up a lease as proof of my new address? It just seemed so silly. How would that prove that I just moved here? How would they know I hadn't been living here all along?—

M: "Are there any other options? The dropdown menu on the website says, 'mail from government agency', 'mail from utility company' and 'other'. But you're telling me that 'other' really just means 'lease'?

D: "Yeah. A lease is the other option."

M: "So why doesn't it list 'mail from government agency', 'mail from utility company' and 'lease' as the three options? Why do they leave 'other' so open-ended, when the only other acceptable form of proof is a lease?"

D: "I don't know. Those are the only options."

M: "OK, thank you. I'll do the lease then. "

I know that conversation makes me look like a B. But trust me, D was the one being a B. He had a very sarcastic tone.

Snarky customer service aside, I couldn't help but be struck by the absurdity of it all. Let's face it, it would be so easy for someone to forge any one of these documents. Need a utility bill? Just Google the utility company logo, add it to the header of a Word doc and write up some fake billing info. A lease would be even easier. Simply print a free lease template off the Internet and scribble in some random signatures.

I'm not condoning forging official documents. That's fraud. What I'm saying is that the ease at which people could forge official documents discredits the whole system. A lease or a letter doesn't "verify" anything. The only way to prove I live somewhere is to knock on the door at 3am and see if I answer it, half asleep and in my pajamas. Even then, I could have broken in, tied up the actual homeowners and staged the whole thing.

One time Andy needed proof of address at our old flat in Edinburgh, but the utility bills were in our other flatmate's name. Instead, he had me take a snap of him standing on the front step with the door open, one foot inside the flat. We made sure the address letters were visible in the photo. Guess what? They actually accepted it as proof.

Anyway, none of this matters. For some reason, a lease is still valid proof of address. No skin off my back.

Here's my new lease, signed by owner (Nadinski Montbrosis) and tenant (me).

Page 1

I uploaded it. Verification is pending. We'll see if it works.

LYMI,
Margaret

P.S. Being home is great. I've already taken two baths, walked Greenlake, eaten a Weight Watchers fudgical, bought organic cumin seeds from PCC and fed bread crusts to a red-winged blackbird. And it's only my first day back!

From the Archives, Edition 5

Char and I just did our US taxes. It was HELL. Even though we don't have to pay anything because we pay our taxes in the UK, we still have to file in the US. It's sooooooo lame.

All of this is to say, it's definitely a 'From the Archives' night.

Found this lil' gem hiding in among the unlisted videos on my YouTube channel. Note how English Andy sounds. I never thought living in Scotland with an American really had much of an effect on his accent, but I guess I was wrong!

Also, I blame my cousins Conor and Spencer for giving me a complex about my upturned pig nose. They would always point it out and I still try to "reshape" it every night before bed!




TGIF,
Margaret

Does it stay or does it go?

I'm moving to Seattle in a month. A MONTH.

My visa's up, and it's time for Andy to experience a country where the mailman doesn't just drop off incoming post, but takes your outgoing mail too. Get ready, Ram. Conveniences like that are just the tip of the iceberg.

I  have only four weekends left, and I expect most of those to be filled with surprise goodbye parties. So, I figured it would behoove me to start the packing process today.

According to my calculations, 80% of what I own has to go. Great! I love a good declutter sesh. I'm very excited about giving my ancient sock collection the heave-ho and starting anew.

Still, saying goodbye to some items was difficult.

DOES IT STAY or does it GO ?

Beige pencil skirt

Ha! This lil' number may have gotten me a few office gigs in the past, but my corporate days are over. I won't need this while I type my novel in my houseboat. It GOES.

Spokane Chiefs hockey jersey

Give THIS away? Heck no. I won it fair and square by tricycling down the ice at halftime and beating two other hockey fans to the finish line. Yes, I've been waiting my whole life for the right occasion to wear it, but that day will come. It STAYS.

Moccasins

I'm moving back to the west coast of America—land of the laid back and carefree. It would seem wrong not to take my most laid back, carefree footwear. They STAY.

"Three Cups of Tea" by Greg Mortenson

Firstly, an actual book? I don't need those heavy, spacehogs anymore. I have a kindle now. Secondly, the guy who wrote this turned out to have the ol' Brian Williams/Mike Daisey disease. Don't even know why this paperback of lies is still on my bookshelf. It definitely GOES.

Dusty Chacos

Yes! I must keep these. Haven't worn them in five years, but I'm going to get massively into hiking once I'm back. I'll need them. They STAY.

Tie-Dye Shirt

Francie and I each bought a tie-dye shirt at the Folk Life Festival in 2002. I still have mine. It's come in handy for a few 70s-theme parties, but I think it's time I lay it to rest. I'm 28 now. Also, it smells really musty. With a heavy heart, it GOES.

Hundreds of 'Margaret Kay Content' business cards

Sad to throw all these away, but it's time for some new partnerships and some re-branding. Plus, I forgot to put my email address on them. Not a ringing endorsement of my copywriting skills. 

They GO. 

To play us out, in honour of everything that didn't make the cut, here's Andre:

Cheers, 

Margaret

Must put duct tape over my webcam

I watched the Edward Snowden documentary 'Citizenfour' last night with Andy.

When the Snowden stuff first leaked, I knew that I should be outraged, but it was so much easier to be apathetic. I knew that the stuff the government was doing was unjust, but ignoring it felt better than caring. If I cared about it, I might feel compelled to do something about it. And that never works. Protesting? Campaigning? Please. Haters gonna hate, bankers gonna bank and spies gonna spy, lie, spy, lie, spy. There's no stopping them and we're all doomed.

Plus, the sheer scope of surveillance, the high-tech tools involved and, I'll admit it, even the "but terrorism" argument, clouded the conversation for me. With the latest episode of 'Real Housewives' streaming the next tab over, the choice was easy: read nothing else about it and hope for the best.

But the documentary forced my head out of the sand. As the extent of the NSA's spying was revealed, I kept thinking about Watergate. What Nixon did was minuscule potatoes compared to the NSA and he was forced to resign just two years after the break-in. This June it will be two years since Snowden's big reveal—will there be any retribution for the government officials involved?

So, now I have this belated outrage and have no clue what to do about it. Is there something I can sign? Is there someone I can vote for? Would eating another oatmeal chocolate chip cookie help? Because if it would, I'm happy to do it. They're right here in this tupperware next to me, so it's no inconvenience at all. I'll eat as many as it takes.

Anyway, I'll conclude with two suggestions:

1. Watch the movie if/when it's screening in your city. 
It's so interesting that I actually said, aloud, during the middle of it, "This is interesting!"

2. Put duct tape over your webcam.
Do this if, like me, you like to use your laptop whilst sitting on the toilet before getting in the shower (naked as a jay bird). Nowhere in the film does it mention the NSA hacking into people's webcams, but now I'm paranoid.

Good luck comrades,
Margaret

The American Dream

I love it here in the UK. It's old. It's historic. It's charming. It's hip. When I eventually hightail it back to my homeland, there's so much that I'll miss about this place (being the exotic one, for starters).

But there are certain experiences that I just can't wait to welcome back into my life. I was daydreaming about America today, and here's what I pictured:

I drive a MASSIVE car through a MASSIVE parking lot and into a MASSIVE parking space. I get out and walk into a MASSIVE Target to buy a MASSIVE wallet that fits all of my many cards (Starbucks cards, license, old driver's permit, student IDs, debit/credit cards, hotel keys, wallet-sized Old Tyme Photos from Seaside, Oregon etc.).

Oh, did I mention it's about 11:45pm that I'm doing this? Yeah, the Northgate Target is open until midnight, so why not go nocturnal wallet shopping?

It ain't cute. No cobblestones to be found. But it's there when you need it. It's giant, familiar and nonjudgemental.

Then I drive back home along a MASSIVE five-lane freeway in a MASSIVE lane that I have all to myself. I step out into the driveway under a MASSIVE star-filled sky. Once inside, I lay down on my MASSIVE wrap-around couch and fall asleep to the sound of the dishwasher humming and the steady thump thump of the dryer heating my clothes until they're soft and wrinkle-free.

TGIF,

Margaret

Lovin' y'all's SuperBowl snacks

Editor's note: If the title of this post had any more apostrophes, it would turn into an apostrophe! Gee whiz!

---

Usually scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed fills me with a sort of bored rage. The political debates, the smug photos of newly married couples out on the town (#DateNight ), the cryptic attention-seeking "Bad Day" statuses. I CAN'T TAKE IT. Vapid post after vapid post. It's enough to make me...switch to Twitter for a few minutes.

But today, on SuperBowl Sunday, I must confess that I'm loving the game day snacks posts! It helps that I am hungry and missing my homeland more than usual. But also, I just love the enthusiasm. It's the SuperBowl, the Seahawks are in it, and people are participating! Hoo-raw! Kakaaw! Memaw!

They're making bean dip. They're baking jalapeño poppers. They're frosting adorable football-shaped cookies. They're carefully arranging bowls of Skittles throughout the buffet table.

What fun! A smorgasbord of treats filling my newsfeed.

Want to see what Andy and I made? Oh, ok then.

NACHOS!!! And margheritas!

They may not look that pretty, but I have no doubt they'll taste amazing. 

Ahhh! Game's about to start. Later, y'all. 

Margaret

P.S. Andy is laughing hysterically at John Legend singing 'American the Beautiful' to a montage of beautiful American scenery. I try to tell him all the time—that stuff's normal in the US of A! He better get used to it! 

Word association

I don't have anything to say. But that's never stopped me before and it won't stop me now!

How about a game of word association? Yes! Let's do it.

WRITER'S BLOCK

OK, that makes me think of this block of salt I saw once when I was 10 and in Lake Chelan on a family reunion. My mom told me it was called a 'salt lick' and that it was for deer. They like salt a lot, so people put up 'salt licks' as the deer version of a birdfeeder. The thought of a deer coming across a giant block of salt in the woods and thinking "jackpot!" really tickled me. Still does.

SALT

I worry that my diet contains too much salt and that it's raising my blood pressure. High blood pressure is also a common side-effect of my migraine pills. So, this week I bought a blood pressure monitor on Amazon! It already arrived and so far my readings are normal. But I want to test myself after I take down a tray of nachos.

PRESSURE

Here's a good example of the small differences between America and the UK. In America, we would say "the Seahawks are pressuring the Patriot's defence". But in the UK, they would say "the Seahawks are pressurising the Patriot's defence". Pressurising! Same goes for "orientated" instead of "oriented" and lots of other words that I can't think of right now.

SEAHAWKS

I hope the Hawks win this SuperBowl and then become really bad again for the foreseeable future so that I don't have to care or support the NFL or argue with my future son about the danger of concussions. Blasphemy, I know.

Image by Tomasz Przechlewski via Wikimedia Commons

Live it up this weekend!

Margaret

The Fat Controller

Nope, that's not (just) the nickname my future children will bestow upon me. It's (also) the name of the guy who manages the railway in Thomas & Friends.

What!? You might be asking yourself. Isn't that man's name Sir Topham Hatt?

Why, yes it is. Sir Topham Hatt is also his name. You see, the man goes by different names in different countries. In the UK, where Thomas the Tank Engine originated, he's The Fat Controller. In America, where fat people's feelings are protected under the Constitution, he's called Sir Topham Hatt.

Image by nicwn via Flickr

I don't have a strong opinion on this. Of course, teaching kids that it's OK to call a man 'The Fat Controller' is potentially worrying. But part of me loves how antiquated and un-PC it is.

What I find troubling is the different status each name implies. The Fat Controller sounds like he's just some working class half-wit. An overworked, underpaid schlub in a borrowed, railway uniform top hat. Sir Topham Hatt, on the other hand, sounds like a boss. Not only does he own that top hat, but he's received a knighthood for Christ's sake!

So which is it? Who is this man? What's his IQ? What does he do for fun? On his lunch breaks, does he sit in his Hyundai Elantra, shovelling pies in his gob while playing Candy Crush on his phone? Or does he head to the country club for some venison and champagne with his pal Baron Bowham Tie?

I've only watched the show a few times when I was younger, so I don't have much insight into the man's personality. All I remember about Thomas & Friends was how creepy, yet appealing, the whole show was.

Parents of the world, can you shed some light?

Later,
Margaret

But I was just doing what Sheryl Sandberg told me to!

Andy and I sent off his US visa forms this week. We each needed a 2x2 inch photo to pair with our 'Biographic Information' page. There's a kiosk in the Post Office by our house that does all types of official ID photos, so we pooled our change (£7 each!!) and took turns behind the curtain.

Example photo booth. Not the actual kiosk we used.
Image by Paste Talk via Wikimedia Commons

Andy went first, while I bought scissors, envelopes, paperclips and pretty much every other office material required to send a letter. That happens every time. I swear, each Post Office visit costs me at least £20.

His photo turned out great. He even managed to get a smize in there. That handsome devil.

Then, it was my turn. Andy had lowered the stool so he could squeeze himself into the tight quarters, but I couldn't figure out how to raise it back up again. Instead, I just did this hover-squat thing and focused on lining my noggin up perfectly with the oval outline on the screen.

4  3  2  1...CHEESE!

Happy with my first take, I pressed the print button and listened to the machine's miniature mechanical brushstrokes paint my face with ink.

After about a minute, the pics dropped into the tray and OH MY GOD MY HEAD. It was huge. It made Andy's look like a grape with shoulders. He looked at it and said, "Hmm...why did you lean in?"

I seriously don't think they'll accept it, but it's not like I had another seven £1 pound coins stuffed in my wallet. So off it went—recorded delivery.

Hopefully they're so bewildered by the bowl cut that they just stamp 'accepted' and send us the visa posthaste.

Nighty night,
Smadge

Want to annoy a British person? Here's how

One of Britain's favourite pastimes is 'tut tut-ing' at America. It's as British as afternoon tea. And I can't say I blame the ol' limeys—as the empire continues to shrink, all they can do is watch as we bastardise their language and make a mockery of their royal family.

When they lost Hong Kong in 1997, making fun of Americans was one of the few constants they could cling to. Fair enough. The poor chaps.

Long hair - gross.

America loves its flag. In many countries, flag waving is seen as a bit nationalistic and pretty right wing. But in America, the flag is just part of the country's decor. One time I actually Googled "the flag", without realising how presumptuous that was. Other countries have flags too, I reminded myself. There's no such thing as "the flag". But still, 99% of the images that came up were of the US flag. So I felt a bit vindicated. 

Anyway, if you want to keep Brits on your good side and avoid their sideways glances—perhaps you're courting one or maybe you're hoping to hire an expat to tutor your high-schooler in history (I know a guy you can call)—here are some common Americanisms to avoid:

Crime: The long A
Example: "Happy H-AHH-lloween", "Let's eat pAHsta with meatballs"
Explanation: It's so funny, because people from the south of England (London and below) absolutely adore the long A. They say things like 'gr-ah-ss' instead of 'grass' and 'b-AH-thtub' instead of 'bathtub'. HOWEVER, when Americans choose to apply the long A to certain words, Brits totally lose their cool. Think of the name Al, as in "I can call you Betty, and Betty when you call me, you can call me Al". For the most part, that's the A sound that Brits like. Video explanation below:

Crime: Shortening the phrase 'pissed off' to 'pissed'
Example: "Bob totally ditched me at the party last night. I was so pissed!"
Explanation: To a Brit, 'pissed' means 'drunk', and using it to mean 'irritated' or 'angry' is incorrect, not to mention confusing. In the example above, they would think you were saying that you were heavily intoxicated, which changes the meaning of the sentence completely.

Crime: Referring to the UK as 'Europe' or to a British person as 'European'
Example: "My sister is on vacation in Europe right now—she's going to London, then Liverpool and, finally, Edinburgh."
Explanation: Even though the UK is technically part of Europe (both politically and geographically), Brits don't regard themselves as European. The term 'Europe' refers to continental Europe—France, Germany, Spain, etc.

Crime: Saying someone has a 'British accent'
Example: "I just love Robert Pattinson's British accent!"
Explanation: Robert Pattinson has an English accent. There's no such thing as a British accent. That would imply that Groundskeeper Willie, Tom Jones and the Queen all have the same accent. Even saying 'English accent' is far too vague, but at least it's (technically) accurate.

Crime: Saying World War II started in 1941
Example: "World War II started in 1941"
Explanation: Eeek. I am guilty of this one. Don't blame me! Blame Kenmore Jr. High! I swear that I had those dates—1941 to 1945—seared into my memory via all my textbooks and teachers. When Americans say the war started in 1941, Brits get annoyed because, for them, it started in 1939, when Germany invaded Poland and Britain decided to do something about it. When America finally got involved two years later, the Brits were like "Where the heck have you guys been?!" But before you start to feel too bad, keep in mind that, if we were Chinese, we would say the war started in 1931 with the invasion of Manchuria. So nobody's perfect (even you, Britain).

Crime: Confusing nationality with national heritage
Example: Guy whose family has lived in Seattle for four generations: "I'm Irish!"
Explanation: When you enthusiastically say to a Brit, "I'm Irish!", they will think you're saying that you're actually Irish—as in, born and raised in Ireland. Instead, say "my ancestors are from Ireland". Note: if you're an American and you're thinking, "What? Nobody does this. What are you talking about?", think harder. I didn't realise people did it at first either. But lots of people do.

Crime: Referring to sports teams in the singular
Example: "Liverpool is playing really well"
Explanation: Stateside, we refer to sports teams in the plural if we're using the mascot as the team name (e.g. "The Seahawks are playing well"), but we refer to a team in the singular if we're using the city as the team name (e.g. "Seattle is playing really well"). In the UK, whether you're using the city or the mascot, it's always plural. Liverpool are playing really well.

Now, it's important that you understand this: I'm not saying that the Brits are right about all of the above. Only avoid these Americanisms if you want to impress a Brit for whatever reason. But if you don't, then keep on keepin' on.

In related news, if you aren't quite sure what separates the terms 'Great Britain, 'United Kingdom', 'England', etc., this video is worth watching (it's recommended by Lord Andy himself):



Cheerio,
Margaret

2014 Ryder Cup: why YOU should tune in

Golf. Even the name is boring.

Golf.

It sounds like a type of bird that builds nests in your drainage gutters and poops all over your driveway.

Or it could just be a word that refers to a long passage of time. "I haven't seen you in golfs!" "Bob has worked at the bank for nearly six golfs, building up a broad range of experience across a large cross section of client sectors."

They could have at least gone with 'golfball'. That would have sounded a bit more enticing, a bit more sporty. Why didn't they go with 'golfball'?

Still, even if you manage to get past the name, golf actually turns out to be pretty boring. Yeah, it does. Exactly as you suspected, it's slow, anticlimactic and the "athletes" don't ever say anything like "When you try me with a sorry receiver like Crabtree, that's the result you gon' get!"

So why then am I urging you to watch the Ryder Cup this year? Because the Ryder Cup is an exception! It's also a gateway tournament. If, like I did for so long, you find golf painfully dull, then the Ryder Cup might be what changes your mind. Before you know it, you'll be shopping for argyle socks and crafting golf tee porcupines for people's Christmas presents.

Allow me to explain (scroll down).

Alex Goro and I at Ten Tiny Tees - Seaside, Oregon 

Reasons to watch the Ryder Cup this year:

✓ Mickelson is throwin' shade

The smack talk has already begun! When asked about the USA team's ability to play as a team, Phil Mickelson responded, "Well, not only are we able to play together, we also don't litigate against each other." ZING!

He's referring to a lawsuit between Rory McIlroy and his former management company, which still represents his former Ryder Cup partner Graeme McDowell (and Rory's major complaint is that they charged McDowell way less than they charged him. McDowell said his and Rory's relationship is "strained", blah blah blah).

✓  It's back where it all began

The first official Ryder Cup was held in 1927 in Massachusetts, but it was six years earlier at Gleneagles (host of this year's Ryder Cup) that the tournament was unofficially born.

✓ Golf's most eligible bachelor is back in form

Yep, Golf's weasel-faced boy genius has ditched his ball 'n chain and seems to be winning again because of it. While engaged to tennis star Caroline Wozniacki, Rory McIlroy was always tweeting annoying photos of them watching movies on the couch and he was NOT playing very good golf. They broke up, and he won two majors back to back.

But don't get too excited, ladies. Rory says that "golf is his girlfriend" for the foreseeable future.

✓ It's the 40th anniversary

OK, it's not a massive milestone. But it's better than saying the "27th" or "43rd" Ryder Cup in history. It's a nice, round number that we can all agree feels a bit more momentous than usual.

✓ Rickie Fowler's hair

Let's just say he's sporting the "Joe Nelson" circa Winter Olympics '06. Take a look.
(Joe is my cousin - I believe he shaved the letters 'U S A' into his hair for the bobsled event in Turin.)

✓ It's a chance for America to be international

My favourite thing about the Ryder Cup is the fact that it's one of the only times the US gets to join in on the international sports conversation and play for national pride.

Yes, there's the Olympics every four years. And this summer the World Cup reached a mainstream American audience for the first time. But for the most part, US sporting events exist in a red, white and blue vacuum. The Super Bowl, March Madness, the "World" Series — every team is ultimately still on Team USA.

Instead of pitting the country's best golfers against each other, like normal, the Ryder Cup pits them against the best golfers in Europe. It turns golf, decisively an individual sport, into a team sport. And it's just crazy enough to work!!

SIGH.

Maybe I convinced you. Maybe I didn't. One thing is for sure though: it's my bedtime.

Nighty night,
Margaret

P.S. Tee-off is at 7:35am tomorrow (Scotland time)

Status Update

Oh man, I have been la-zy when it comes to blogging. Lay to the zee. But it's only because I've been 'working' so much! Andy and I somehow got ourselves a job building a website for an Indian restaurant. It's finished now, but the process probably took about 3 years off my life.

Things with the bowl cut are going well, thanks for asking. I was hoping to only get one more trim before I go to Seattle in August, but two days ago I woke up with a mullet. It's not the actual mullet that I'm worried about - it's the fact that people might think I've intentionally grown it to be a hipster. That, I couldn't cope with. I've booked an appointment for another 40 POUND haircut next week.

But enough about me - here's an update on Andy. He's been working on an exciting project.  It's a spin-off of his tutoring business. I won't reveal what it is yet, but stay tuned. Also, here's a photo I took after making him pose like a Real Housewife (except with a cricket ball instead of fruit):

 

Have you noticed that Facebook now asks you if you'd like to tag people in photos that you have nothing to do with? Well, I've been doing it!!! The other day my sister Anna posted a photo (a 'mobile upload') of her at our friend Jody's bachelorette weekend. Even though I am thousands of miles away, Facebook encouraged me to tag them in the photo. And tag I did. 

Since, unlike Anna and Jody, most people on my Facebook are people I have only met a couple times but have long since forgotten, I find this new feature incredibly upsetting. I really have trouble resisting the urge to tag people I barely know. As I scroll through my newsfeed, Facebook's screaming at me 'Would you like to tag her?', 'Would you like to tag him?' - and I feel compelled to do it! But will Facebook then tell the person that I, Margaret Kay, was the tagger? 

I am fairly confident that those last two paragraphs made no sense. But holla if you feel me. 

Love,

Margaret

H-O-T-T, Hot Off the Press!

Hi Everybody!

Get ready of a Madgespace EXCLUSIVE!

I am thrilled to officially announce the completion of my autobiography! It has not yet been released, but I can offer you a sneak peek at the front and back cover. Enjoy!

Front Cover

Back Cover

As you can tell, this long-awaited memoir was inspired by my recent experience winning the Special K designer dress giveaway competition (which ran throughout the UK and Ireland). Additionally, I was influenced by the fabulous autobiographies of my celebrity peers. Below are some of my most favorite celeb autobiographies (top tip: the more awkwardly a pun in jammed into the book title, the better the book usually is):

sTori Telling - Tori Spelling

A Shore Thing - Snooki

If it Makes You Healthy - Sheryl Crow (it's her cookbook)

Dancing to the Music in my Head: Memoirs of the Peoples' Idol - Sanjaya Malakar

unSweetined - Jody Sweetin

Miles to Go - Miley Cyrus

In other, less important, news...Osama bin Laden is dead now. You may or may not have read about it in the news. I am SHOCKED at how much people care! Seriously, I just did not think he was still that relevant. People flocked to the streets and partied in front of the White House. Could it be that we wanted to flex our patriotic muscles just a bit more than usual after being upstaged by the Brits' recent display of romantic nationalism? When I read my Facebook news feed this morning, I am not kidding you that I checked the calendar to see if it was the Fourth of July (I was half asleep and so confused). That's what I get for going to Facebook first before checking the news.

WELL, I need to shower. As I said to Char today, you know you need to shave your legs when you can feel your leg hairs blowing in the wind like blades of grass. Plus, now that I own a designer red dress, I'll probably start upgrading my life little by little. First it's the shaving of the legs, then I'll probably feel the need to buy moisturizer (they're so dry that scratching a slight itch will leave visible white lines on the skin for days) and the next thing you know I will be buying brand name laundry detergent and eating organic nut butters.

Until next time, y'all.

Love,

Margaret

Laffy Tafty

I've always had a smoldering, almost subconscious obsession with President William Howard Taft and I'm pretty sure I can pinpoint why. After some careful consideration in the minutes leading up to me writing this blog post I was able to conclude that, yes, it is because he was the fattest president ever. Of course. I mean, what a legacy! The second reason: he had a custom-made bath tube. I LOVE baths!

Look at his official White House oil painted portrait. That guy had a belly on him. To give him some credit, though, Wikipedia says he lost about 80 pounds after he left office. Way to go Tafty!

Taft's custom-made bathtub!

Anyway, the portrait makes me wonder when "full-figured" people stopped wearing their pants (trousers) over their gut, and started wearing the waistline right under the gut. At what point in history did that moment occur?

Also, what looks better? Wearing the waistline up near the belly button makes the portly individual appear to have a ginormous bladder. However, wearing it underneath the belly leaves it all to hang out. Thoughts?

Hey! It looks liked the BBC has already tackled this issue. They always beat me to it! Check out their jazzy compare/contrast photo:


According to the article it was around the turn of the 20th Century (when people started to wear lounge suits...HA) that waistlines began to fall. And they have ebbed and flowed since.

Well, we've all learned something today. Now it's time for me to make some tea and watch some Glee. Ugh, I HATE unintentional rhyming sentences.

Love ya,

Margaret

P.S. Look at the d'angelos on that "trendy teenager!"

Guten Tag

Today was about as perfect as a non-cyprus, freezing cold, have-to-go-to-school, spokane weekday can get. 

I didn't have to work so I was able to watch the inauguration this morning. I set my alarm for 7, got out of bed slowly and wandered down to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and some oatmeal. I used the extra boiling water from the kettle for my hot water bottle, which I held onto in one hand at the very tip top so it wouldn't burn me. In the other hand I held my mug of tea and my mug of oatmeal (I only eat out of bowls and mugs. Never plates- they don't keep food hot enough and they increase the likelihood of horrendous utensil scraping noises). Then I bundled up in a couple of fleece blankets in Barbie's bed (she was at the bagel shop working and I don't have a TV in my room), stretched my legs out, cracked my toes and relished in the relaxation of continuous news broadcasting. 

Next time I am feeling stressed, I should turn on CNN and zone out as the reporters earn their living by beating a dead horse, describing it in historic terms, rephrasing it for those just tuning in, holding a panel discussion on it, and airing replays of it over and over and over. There's something so soothing about 24 hour news channels. 

Obama's speech was good. Michelle's dress was classy. The kids were super cute. And the crowd was miraculous. So so so many people, all gathered in the cold to see the fruits of their vote and share in such instant change- from Bush to Obama. You couldn't find a better example of change than that. 

After the speech and about another hour of dead-horse-beating by the news anchors, my stomach had a warm, red splotch from the hot water bottle and my legs were falling asleep so I figured I'd better get up and move around. Clare and I went to our aerobics and yoga classes. Then Martha and I went to "do hood rat stuff", which was difficult because of the cold and turned into buying tea at Tesoro, chit-chatting with Isabel at her house and wandering the aisles of Safeway. 

And the best is yet to come! The Real Housewives of Orange County starts in ten minutes!!

May the force be with you, 

Madge