Promises, Promises

I had all these noble plans for day-by-day entries for my visit to the King-Bradley household in Belfast, but, as you may have heard, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I came back to work to find, of all things, a load of work waiting for me and haven't had a moment to blog. Therefore, I bring you the quick recap.

Arrive Belfast. See house. Ooh/aah at improvements. (Actually, I should not gloss over this--the house is lovely. Healy has done a beautiful job. The moldings are gorgeous.) Go to restaurant called Sopranos (called so because the owners like the HBO show...not joking.) Got spectacularly drunk. Went back to Healy/Coll's where Healy and I proceeded to ooh/ahh over said moldings and discuss bookshelves. Passed out.

Woke up noonish. Went on bus tour of Belfast (yes, Belfast has tourism) All, including Coll, were impressed by tour guide. Went back to Healy/Coll's and watched TV. Sleep.

Woke up noonish. Went to see ring and henge (no Stonehenge, but enjoyable nonetheless). Went to Tesco. Was admonished for acting like a three-year old. Went back to Healy/Coll's and prepare to par-tay by testing Margarita recipes and applying makeup. Par-tayed with Healy/Colleen/Catherine McCann/Michelle Quinn/various other characters including one angry young man who wanted me to apologize for all of America, which I would not since he could not even understand the simple concept of federalism/DC has no vote. Shared bed with Michelle Quinn and her fantastic party dress.

Woke up before noonish but spent day on couch watching Buffy marathon. Rallied to hit bars around 10:00 (where much fun was had). Refused to go home but was made to by mean Healy who turned out to be right in the end since we had to get up at the crack of dawn (11:00 AM) to go to Derry for Sunday dinner.

Arrived Derry (after lovely nap in car). Was fed lamb and chicken and roasted potatoes and mashed potatoes and carrots and parsnips and gravy. Then was fed butterscotch pudding and toffee cheesecake and Swiss roll and Vienna roll and whipped cream and apple crumble. Took Coll's nephews to park. Waited for Coll's dad to fix her car (which only unlocked at the trunk and had a very complicated system of which doors open from the inside or out). Returned to Belfast. Sleep.

Woke up noonish (what is wrong with me??). Met Coll for lunch. Shopped. Waited in bar for Coll. Went back to Healy/Coll's. Ordered Domino's (American rules the seas). Contemplated ordering more pizza. Watch much crap British/Irish TV. Went to sleep early with best of intentions but was woken up by many baby-related text messages (11:00 PM--pictures of friend's small child; 2:00 AM announcement of friend's pregnancy).

Woke up 7ish (late for when I needed to leave). Went to airport. Began incredibly long journey home (all flights delayed; got home midnight EST).

THE END!

There Have Been Some Complaints

Apparently, I haven't been posting enough. There have been instant messages, rude comments and, on at least one occasion, someone yelling through my bedroom wall that I should "update [my] fucking blog." To make up for lost time, I will be going back in time and posting backdated entries about my trip to Belfast. Please scroll down for entries starting on March 27.

Twenty Steps to London Town

1. Leave house
2. Walk to Circulator, take to L’Enfant Plaza
3. Take Green Line from L’Enfant Plaza to Greenbelt
4. Take bus from Greenbelt to BWI, arrive 12:35
5. Smoke cigarette.
6. Go through security
7. Walk thirty minutes to gate, past gates that haven’t been built yet, turn around, go back, ask someone, “Is this really the way to Gate [whatever it was],” turn back around, find gate
8. Sit quietly eating tuna sandwich and hear three small children run in screaming, “I want to see the kangaroos now!” They were on their way to Australia. I suggested to their mother that if a little whiskey made it into their sippy cups, no one would hold it against her.
9. Take twenty minute flight to Philly, arrive 3:15 for 8:55 flight
10. Smoke cigarette
11. Go through security
12. Wait
13. Repeat steps 10-12
14. Repeat steps 10-12
15. Repeat steps 10-12
16. Board plane and am shocked to find out that US Air charges $5 for drinks. Find $10.
17. Score row of four seats to myself after moving from front row (where the arms don’t go up) to second row and slowly encroaching on the personal space of the Englishman sharing the row with me until he kindly moved so that I could stretch out.
18. Felt bad that a person at least six inches taller than me had moved to a two-seat row so that I could stretch out in a four-seat row
19. Eight seconds later, stopped feeling bad
20. Fall asleep and wake up in London

The Last IM

H: i'm leaving here shortly to paint my skirting boards and go to last salsa class
E: and by skirting board....
H: the thing around the walls by the floor
E: BASEBOARDS. WE CALL THEM BASEBOARDS
H: skirting is acceptable
E: god, i can't get there soon enough--you need some american
H: my mother calls them skirting
E: your mother is not a good example in this instance
H: i think if they are fancy then they are skirting
E: and what COULOUR will they be?
H: she knows her decor
E: don't you mean DECOUR
H: (ha Ha)
H: no but i would but an accent on it
E: i will be there in 24 hours to yankee you up
H: ok dokey
E: i'm off to take the shower that's going to see me through to belfast
H: make it count
E: see you tomorrow!
H: have a nice trip!
H: byeeee
E: byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee now

Just How Fast Can Food Be?

Well, I'll tell you! Not since the now-defunct Tik Tok have I been this excited about an automated food-dispensing maching (although the convenience noodle vending machines in China were pretty cool). I give you the Wonder Pizza!

It makes you a 9" pizza in two minutes. Two minutes! Hell, yeah!

He Has Risen

No, not Jesus, silly (although, if you look closely, you can see his bleeding heart or holy ghost or burning bush or some other thing above my head). Tony T, the world's best bartender in the whole world, has opened his bar, The Pug. Below is a photo of BI'75 and me enjoying our first beers on his first night.

Congrats to Tony T (and to us for having a new drinking hole)!

Yummy Candy

BI'75 is mentioned in Daily Candy!

Nobody Bothers Me!

Calling all Washingtonians! Look what BI'75 dug up for us!

Does It Mean You're Old...

...When the music that meant you were alternative and cool because you listened to it before everyone else and even had it on vinyl is being used in a fast food advertisement? Because I just heard "Blister in the Sun" on a Wendy's commercial. Oh, it hurts.

Countdown to Normalcy

I pay only $400 per month to live in a three-bedroom townhouse in a neighborhood where housing prices are soaring. Jealous? Don’t be. As with any sweet deal, there is a catch.

For nine months out of the year, BI’75 and I have the house to ourselves. We cook healthy dinners every night, the kitchen is always clean and there is always plenty of cheese. A person can lay on the couch uninterrupted for hours and never has to answer questions ranging from why the people in commercials talk so fast to what my generation thinks of “this mess.”

For the other three months, our house is overrun by senior citizens. CNN blares from every TV and NPR from every radio—at the same time. I give computer and cell phone tutorials on a nightly basis. The kitchen is littered with American cheese wrappers and we are always out of milk. The fights start promptly at 7:00 AM, and I have to threaten someone with the old folks home at least once a week. Please refer to my list of grievances from last year for more.

Since I can’t afford the other $1,600 per month that would make up half the rent on a place like this, I suppose it’s a small price to pay, but that doesn’t mean I’m not counting the days until Ma and Pa E pack up and head north.