Fantastic news and an update.

A while back, (September 15, 2011, to be precise), I wrote a blog post called “We like wine.”  In it, I described the wine goblets that Ashley and I purchased at a thrift store.  While we certainly drank lots of wine from these goblets, we were not sure if a goblet could hold an entire bottle of wine.  I said I would report back when we found out.  Well, seven and a half months later, we finally conducted the experiment.  I am pleased to announce the wonderful results—our goblets do indeed hold an entire bottle each and with room to spare.  Cheers to that.

My goblet and empty bottle

Ashley's goblet and empty bottle.

Cheers.

Somehow, the time here is quickly winding down.  I have just eleven days of work left!  I know I have left many fun stories and experiences unrecorded here (like the story about the time I was running along the canal and saw this mom dragging along two small children and a baby in a stroller and one of the kids was screaming and bawling and as I ran by I realized the mom was smoking pot…her way to deal with it I guess.  Or the time at the grocery store with Kelsey, when I must have forgotten where I was and picked up a bag of pre-cooked spaghetti noodles and said/yelled, “BRITISH PEOPLE ARE SO LAZY” and then got a few dirty looks.  Or the time I was taking a surprise trip to Houston, but got bumped off my British Airways flight.  This is actually a good one.  When British Airways is bumping you off a flight, they try reallllllllly hard to keep you very uninformed.  And when you ask nicely for a little bit of information, they give you a voucher for 3 pounds and say, “Why don’t you go get a coffee?”  And then they get all surprised and offended when you say, “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on here instead?”  And then when you and the “customer service” agent get into a bit of a heated discussion about why no one knows why you don’t have a seat on this plane when you booked your ticket months ago, she hands you off to another “customer service” agent who doesn’t appreciate your angry snark.  When that discussion progresses and you are provoked into saying things you don’t normally say and the “customer service” agent condescendingly tells you to “please calm down, miss”, you get a sudden flashback to a time when your dad was a basketball coach for your sister’s middle school team and he was loudly letting the referee know what’s up and the ref said to him, “you need to calm down, sir” and your dad replied, "I AM CALM!"  Fortunately, you are not escorted out of Heathrow Airport by the bobbies, but British Airways does bump both you and a sobbing 14-year-old girl who is traveling alone.  At least they reimburse you and upgrade you to “World Traveler Plus” on the next flight.  (That was beginning to feel a little bit like a terrible British Airways version of "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie".  Sorry.)  (In spite of my travel woes and with a little more cash in my pockets than I expected, I had the best Beer Bike trip ever.))

Ashley and I are feeling pressure to do all the London things we haven’t gotten around to yet.  We made a “London Bucket List” google doc that we spend a lot of time updating while we’re at work.  We made some good progress on it this past weekend, going to the British Library and the Brains exhibit at the Wellcome Collection.  (I found out that I really don’t have the stomach for brains.)  On the way back from the Wellcome Collection (which is a neat little museum I had never heard of before), we ducked into a pub to get out of the rain.  There happened to be a very important soccer game on (Sheffield versus some other team also from Sheffield...so we gathered).  We were so glad we stumbled upon this.  The guys watching the game at that pub were like little boys on Christmas morning.  It was a hilarious thing to witness.  I have never seen anything like it.  Watch this video.  Be sure to watch the guy who first appears at :18.  I particularly enjoy when he falls to his knees at :25. 

Then later that night we went to a place called Dalston Superstore (which is a nightclub, not a superstore).  I’m sure this will come as a shock, but clubbing is not exactly my thing.  But somehow, Ashley and I were both in the mood to go out.  So we did.  And it was hilarious.

Claire: (shouting over the music) YOU KNOW HOW YOU SAID THIS USED TO BE A GAY CLUB?

Ashley: (shouting over the music) YEAH.

Claire: (shouting over the music) I THINK IT STILL IS.

It was.

Luckily, we have a three-day weekend this weekend, so we’ll have time to cross more things off our list.  (Thank you, Early May Bank Holiday!)  That’s all for now, I think.  I’ll end with a really good, but pretty inconvenient way to crack yourself up: give British people pumpkin bread.  They just do not know what to do with it.  At all.

Learn British.

To prepare you all for when you come to visit me, I would like to share with you a few British phrases and words.  Hopefully this will mitigate some confusion you may experience.

“Cheers”: We’ll start with an easy one.  When you come here, you will hear “Cheers” approximately 394587 times a day (and this is not because you will be drinking that much).  Hand someone a pencil, you’ll get a nice “Cheers” in return.  Make a purchase at any store, you’ll get a “Cheers”.  Say goodbye to someone, you’ll get a “Cheers”.  Pass by the office security man (I love him) four times a day, get a “Cheers” every time.  My favorite is when British people hang up the phone.  The conversation almost always ends with a very pleasant, “Cheers!  Bye!”  Who knew the British were so cheerful.  I actually said, “Cheers” in reply to a cashier’s “Cheers” the other day, but I think that was more from a reflex I’ve gained by drinking with Ashley, who makes sure to toast every time.  

“Are you alright?” (concerned tone): This one took me a while to figure out.  I’m pretty aware that my face naturally falls into worried mode, but never before had so many people freely questioned me about it. I would, for instance, be in the office kitchen making some tea and a coworker would come in.  “You alright?” he would ask.  “Yes?  Is something wrong?” I would answer, slightly perturbed.  But it turns out that this is the British way of asking, “How are you?”—just a standard way to start a conversation.  (I figured this out when I overheard British people ask this to people who do not naturally appear worried.)  (They are a concerned people though.  When Hurricane Irene was hitting the East Coast, this girl came up to me in the office kitchen and asked if my family was alright.  This was very nice of her, but she scared the crap out of me.  I was like, “I thought so?  What happened??”)

“Taking the piss out of you”: When I first heard this one, my reaction was, “I beg your pardon?”  But, this means “getting made fun of”, as in “She really got the piss taken out of her when she said ‘pants’ instead of ‘trousers’.”  British Will uses this one pretty frequently, but he usually shortens it to “taking the piss.”

“Trousers”: Pants.  But don’t say pants, because that means underpants.

 “Let’s have a chat.”: I feel as if this has some kind of ominous tone when used at home.  So whenever boss-man would say this to me, my reaction would be “uh oh, what did I do….” Here, however, it’s the way to say, “let’s talk in a friendly, non-threatening manner.”

“Netball”:  I learned this one today at lunch with Brian from Liverpool and Michael from Portugal.  Michael plays in a basketball league here and was telling us about his game last night.  Brian asked me if I played basketball or netball back at home.  I asked him what the difference is between the two.  Apparently netball is very similar to basketball, except that there is no backboard on the hoop and you can’t move with the ball (no dribbling).  I had actually heard Brian use the word “netball” on a previous occasion, but I had assumed he was just being a big British nerd.

“Courgette”: The other day, when I was in the office kitchen (it may seem that I spend a lot of time in the office kitchen...maybe I do), Luit (one of my favorite people that I work with—he’s really helpful to the interns and is an all-around nice guy) was telling me about this chocolate cake he wants to make.  The recipe uses courgettes instead of butter, so it’s healthy!  He was very excited about this.  But I was confused. “…What is a courgette?” I asked slowly.  Luit then struggled to describe what a courgette, in fact, is.  “It’s green, it’s in the pumpkin family…what would you call it…”  I suggested that it is perhaps a gourd.  No, no, it’s not a gourd.  We both left the kitchen very unsure of what a courgette actually is.  In a few minutes, however, the mystery was solved.  Luit emailed me a link, explaining that Americans know courgettes as zucchinis.  So, courgette equals zucchini.  Also, aubergine equals eggplant, but I don’t have a story for that one.  Ashley and I just googled it.