Clap for these hookers

Leicester City won the English Premier League title!

It's a big deal. Crazier than if the Mariners won the World Series. Imagine the Everett AquaSox winning and you're getting closer.

Embed from Getty Images

Yep, those dudes—exhaustedly congratulating each other on a job well done—had a 5000 to 1 chance of winning the league title, and they DID IT.

OK, that's it for today. I need to walk up to Safeway and get something for dinner. Any ideas? Can't do pasta again. Or can I? Maybe I'll just do that.

Goodbye,
Margaret


P.S. Yeesh. The word "exhaustedly" exhausts me.  I'm exhausted now.

P.P.S. By the way, look at the Everett AquaSox logo. Look at that crazy frog. He's so fun. And is the "E" on his hat an upside down version of the retro Mariners' "M"? The whole logo is fun. It's just FUN. Love it! So FUN.

Would a poop by any other name smell so bad?

What words and phrases do you hate?

I'm not fond of 'starter home'. When people say "it's our starter home" they are being pretentious.

My mom doesn't like it when people say 'no problem' or 'no worries' instead of thank you. Andy and I both admit that we do this all the time. Must be an our generation thing. She also doesn't like 'how's your day so far' or 'my bad'.

Andy hates when people throw 'go ahead' into a sentence for no reason. For example, "I'm going to go ahead and add you to the email list" or "If you could just go ahead and provide your feedback, that'd be great".

My dad can't stand when young people respond to something with a trail of yeahs. He says he'll often say something very interesting, only to be met with "yeah, yeah, yeahyeahyeahyeah..." Apparently it happens all the time.

Francie, according to Char, doesn't like the use of 'super' as a substitution for 'really'. For example, "their wedding photos were super cute" or "they just bought a super big starter home".

Oh god—want to know the WORST one? I was once working on some copy for a large UK bank and one of their employees let me in on some juicy insider gossip. An irritating new phrase was spreading like wildfire through their office.

"Please revert"

YEP. That's how people at this bank were signing off their emails. They'd say something like, "Hi Bob, I've attached those reports that you requested. We're keen to hear your feedback. Please revert. Thanks, Sally"

Is that not terrible? Please revert. It doesn't even really make sense. Apparently it originated in India. Software developers and other tech professionals were using in their emails to colleagues in the US and UK. And the rest is history.

In other news, today I got a strawberry smoothie (they call it a smoothie, but really it's a milkshake) from Tully's and it was TO DIE FOR. I don't know if it was just because I'd walked 35 minutes through a soulless business park on Mercer Island to get there, or if it really was that good, but boy did it hit the spot. Obviously it did, as I'm still thinking about it now, several hours later.

Goodnight,
Margaret

Election Day!

....in the UK.

The voting booths open at 7am tomorrow morning, and the latest polls are predicting a hung parliament. I haven't been following this election as closely as I would have liked, but from what I've gathered, voters are split on who to choose because everyone's terrible. All the usual options—Labour, Tory, LibDem—are led by baffoons.

There's the reigning PM David Cameron (posh-babyfaced-baffoon), Labour leader Ed Milliband (nasal-claymation baffoon) and LibDem leader Nick Clegg (yellow-skinned-weakling baffooon).

The only party with any razzle-dazzle are the Scottish National Party. They've pretty much wiped out Labour to become Scotland's ruling party. Their leader, Nicola Sturgeon, is smart and seems to be the only one capable of speaking in a way that even remotely resembles authentic, passionate debate.

Nicky S.
Image by The Scottish Government via Wikimedia Commons

Now, we're all the way over here in America. Why should you care about the UK elections? Honestly, there isn't a good reason. It's not going to impact your life in any way. But here's why I think the three paragraphs above were worth reading:

1. You can mention the elections to someone and sound smart.

2. You'll remember to see who wins and then you'll know the name of the UK's head of state (I thought it was Tony Blair when I first moved to Scotland, and then it turned out to be some guy named Gordon Brown. I felt so out of touch!).

3. You can use it as an opportunity to study the differences between a parliamentary system and a presidential system.


GOODNIGHT OMG I'M SO TIRED OMG BYE GOODNIGHT,

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

Speak loudly and carry a pack of soothing cough drops

I'm hoarse.

Not to be an old lady, but why must they play the music so loud in bars? How are people supposed to have a decent conversation over ear-piercing guitar solos?

Five and a half years in the UK and my once-robust American vocal chords have shrivelled into shadows of their former selves. I became so accustomed to the meek, muted tones of British discourse that I fear I may never regain my old volume.

In Edinburgh I'd often work from the black chair in our bay window. I quickly learned how to tune out the bagpipes. But when American tourists would walk down the Mile, my ears couldn't ignore their familiar, flat, unapologetic, thunderous honking. MY PEOPLE. I'd be compelled to look up from my laptop and watch them walk by. Yoga pants + fleece + running shoes, without fail.

It took me about a year of being over there to adopt a UK-approved volume. It happened gradually. I didn't realise I was talking quieter until I came back to Kenmore for a visit and everyone in my family kept saying, "What?" "I can't hear you!" "Speak up!"

Now that I'm back for good, I can only hope that I'll eventually get my voice back. My true American voice. Monotone. Confident. Loud.

While I'm on the subject, I think it's unfair that Americans get all the flack for being loud. Yes, we're loud. Much louder than the English, Scottish and Irish. But we aren't the only country that errs on the side of screaming. What about Italians? Or Greeks? Spaniards? Porto Ricans? Those are just some of the countries where, according to anecdotal research and some quick Googling, people also talk loudly.

What's on its head? I don't know. I don't think we'll ever know.

I feel like I've meandered off topic because it's nearly midnight and I haven't yet fulfilled my bath quota for the day. I can't think straight.

The main thing I wanted to get across is that I'm hoarse. HOARSE. After catching up with high school friends all day, and having a lovely time, I'm ready for some herbal tea and hot soak in the tub.

Wiedersehen,

Margaret

P.S. Don't Google Image search "Vocal Chords". NSFW.

P.PS. Is there a better cough drop than original Ricola? If so, I don't want to know about it.

Image by philozopher via Flickr

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

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

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

A poorly excuse for a blog post

I really should try to ration my sick days over the course of the year. Day 12 of my Year-28 challenge is far too soon to lay my best cards out on the the table.

And yet, I actually am ill. Or "poorly", as they say here in Great Britain. Yes, did you know that? In the UK, they say "poorly" instead of "sick" or "ill".

"What's wrong, Margaret? Are you poorly?"

It's always seemed strange to my American ear. I think if they said, "Are you feeling poorly" it would be different. But they don't.

Also, Andy sometimes asks me: "Do you need any washing doing?"

That's the weirdest one. It's just insane. The translation is: "Do you need to do any laundry?"

Anyway, as you can probably tell, I am not writing or thinking that clearly. Elsie has pretty much given all of Edinburgh her horrendous cold. That whore.

Knowing that my condition wasn't letting up, I spent much of yesterday and today trying to take a photo of myself looking as miserable as possible. Just so I could prove to you, my readers, that I'm not faking it. Here's the best one:

Believable enough?

Have fab weekends!

Cheers,
Margaret

Sucked in

Ok, you can stop the conspiracy theories. I am here to put the rumors (rumours!?) to rest once and for all.

I'M ALIVE.

Just because I haven't been blogging with the usual frequency, I assure you I am still a living, breathing, human.

In general it's fair to say I've been sucked in to life in the UK. Sometimes I say "courgette" instead of "zucchini", and soccer is now almost always "football". But it's more than just an issue of vocabulary. This is serious.

I now know the names of at least 5 British politicians- compare that with my previous number: 1 (Churchill). At nighttime I don't go to stores (shops) because they're closed. This is a weird one- I don't hear accents any more. When my friends talk I just hear their voices but I don't think they're talking in an accent. WOAH. On average, I ride in a car once or twice a month. Did you know about the Falkland Islands? Well, it turns out they are a thing that exists.

I am pretty sure that Seattle might just be the greatest place on earth but I can't quite get over how amazing it is to be so close to so many OTHER countries. There is a greater sense of being in the thick of it all over here. Contrary to my previous beliefs, Kenmore, Washington is not the epicenter of world activity. Who knows if it's the UK either- but it does feel a bit closer to it here than anywhere else I've ever been.

So, I've been sucked in. Speaking of which, the other day I was watching cricket in the pub (see what I mean?) and the topic of quicksand came up. Two out of the five people in our group claimed to have been caught in quicksand at some point in their life! I had no idea it was such a plausible risk! Their advice: don't struggle, stay calm.

Blog topic suggestions?

I love you,

Margaret

Expat Xmas!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Char and I fidgeted around for about two hours until FINALLY, at 7:30, we allowed ourselves to get out of bed. PRESENTS!

It was a good haul this year. So many thoughtful gifts- and a few bizarre ones too!

It's not too weird being away from home for the holiday. It helped to have multiple K-town traditions transported over here for our yuletide pleasure. Christmas roll sent by mail and kept fresh by the frigid Scottish temperatures. The Berenstain Bears' Christmas Tree book, read aloud by yours truly last night before beddyby. Muppets' Christmas Carrol- a true classic!

I haven't showered in days! Luckily, Char got me some "dry shampoo" in my stocking. I guess "they" use it all the time over here. GROSS. You just spray it on your greasy mop whenever showering seems too tedious (which is pretty much always). Joke present or not, I fear it may become a regular part of my hygiene routine (which is already embarrassingly minimal).

Now all we have to do is sit back, watch a horrendous version of the movie "Heidi" on TV and eat more cinnamon roll? Then we're going to walk to Char's work to use the printer to print off my boarding pass (I'm going to England in two days).

Ok, time to refill the ol' hot water bottle.

I LOVE YOU ALL!

Merry Christmas,

Margaret