November 3, 2014

We’ve mainly slept in London

We’ve been in London for two days and already we have fucked up our schedule. Jet lag is a bitch, yes, but there are ways to make it worse. For instance, he got the advice from his father that the first day you arrive try to make it to 9 o’clock. The last time we were here we failed to do that and end up waking at early hours. This time I suffered through the first day just craving sleep and walking around like a zombie (I had gotten 0 sleep on the plane.). We make it to bed by 9 and are out instantly. We then proceed to sleep until 4 in the evening. Evidently we were tired. So my tip: sleep when you’re tired. Good thing we have 2 weeks here or I would have been PISSED to waste an entire day sleeping. By the way, it gets dark by 4:30.

To not make the day a complete waste we went on a Walking Ghost Tour led by an amazing guide named Sara with a thick Wisconsin accent. As it turned out she was from Michigan but most people think she’s Canadian and the Brits love Canadians. So she goes with it. The tour was par for the course. It was good and very little happened. Except when the tour wound its way to St. James park and she explained that this park had a tendency to have moments of debauchery. My husband and I turn to each other and go “what kind?” Debauchery is such a vague term. Our ideas of misconduct happen to be sexual, cause as it happens in our little neck of the world parks are notorious hook-up spots.

So far things have gone well. We got ourselves set up with a weekly tube ticket that, when purchased at any train station (not tube), offers a good number of 2 for 1 specials on different tours, sites, and dining. Today’s ghostly tour being one of them.

October 23, 2014

Breaking Bad Ball Busting Bitch

I don’t understand how some people feel the need to control the lives of others. They think their opinion is so right that everyone must change to what they want and what they think is right.  It gets old.  I just wish those people would accept that there is such a thing as free will.

My rant comes to you in the form of some ‘lady’ (lady by the way is my PG way of saying bitch) that felt Toys ‘R’ Us should immediately stop the sale of Breaking Bad action figures. (http://www.cnn.com/2014/10/22/living/breaking-bad-toys-r-us/index.html) Her reasoning (toward the end of the article) is that kids emulate their action figures.  Okay, here is the idiocy in that statement.  Not taking into consideration that if you don’t want your kid to pretend to be a diabolical man that makes meth and calls himself Heisenberg just DON’T buy it, why in the hell would your child be watching Breaking Bad to begin with?  What kind of messed up mother are you where you let your child watch a program about a meth dealer that steals and murders without remorse.  If you do, you really need to evaluate your priorities.

So, considering she doesn’t let her kids watch the show (cause, you know, she’s a good mother and vigilant citizen) how would your child even know who Jesse and Walter White are?! Why would they emulate them in any fashion?! If that’s your reasoning, stop selling dolls that include: freddy, darth vader, darth maul, darth sidious, Kobra, Decepticons, or any other villain of any other children’s franchise, because they are just as bad.  And one may argue that “those characters are fantasy,” well so is Breaking Bad.

And finally… A PETITION? This lady gets that Toys ‘R’ Us is a privately owned and operated company and not a government agency.  So what, you found 9,000 other people with sticks up their ass that have nothing better to do during the day than to complain about pieces of plastic.   I mean… do these dolls come with a sample of meth?  Are they so advanced that the project the show continuously through projectors via the doll’s eyes?

Which brings me back to my intial point, why do people feel the need to control what is and isn’t available? Under no circumstance would a child know about Breaking Bad so fearing they would pretend to be meth dealers is preposterous. Just worry about you and your own family.  Obviously this lady needs to get laid or something… Someone give her some meth.

October 23, 2014

A Week Away

It’s quickly winding down and by in a weeks time I will be on my way to London. As my husband pointed out last night we have planned nothing. That’s right, Charles, we have not. I have set certain things I want to do, but otherwise I’m not creating an agenda for myself. The only thing I want to do is on my birthday and that’s to be in Oxford to visit the grave of C. S. Lewis. (The man is my idol, despite our very contrary dogmatic views.)

While I am so excited to return to (so far) my most favorite city in the world, I am equally as scared. Yeah, the ten hour flight has me sweating, but my fear stems primarily from that fact that we are Broke. I sold my stocks today to get a little bit of cash and let me give you a tip, don’t keep looking after you’ve sold whatever you own. Trust me. I have a couple new credit cards to bridge a little bit of the gap but that makes it to where I have a grand total of $4,000 USD to play with. At this point I don’t know what my husband is bringing to the table. He doesn’t want to admit it but he’s cagey about money. Don’t let him lie to you and say he’s not. And I feel I should note that it’s $4,000 considering that I max out my new credit card which Capital One stupidly gave to me. (Suckers!)

October 20, 2014

Unusually Complimentary

There has been a strange tide of events these past few days, my husband has shown interest in my want to be a published writer. I know! I am just as shocked as you.  Don’t get me wrong, he is … “supportive” to a degree.  He’s just a realist when it comes to dreams.  If he cannot see a hard path, he is not taking it.  Does that make sense?  Well, anyway, since I told him my plans to document our trip to London on the cheap and possibly write a book he is on-board.  He even called me on Friday and started pouring compliments over me; my body was in shock.  It is not accustomed to such gushing, but I’m not one to turn it down.

My husband told me that he thinks I would make a good travel writer because I can tell a story and I am humorous.  Which, that sentence in itself shows my humor, because the man has never thought that I’m out-right funny prior to last Friday or at least expressed any similar sentiment in our 11 years together.  It has not been until the past few years, hanging around our friends, that he sees I can be a downright riot.  If he and I are talking I can’t crack a joke and make him laugh.  He only finds me entertaining when I say or do something stupid and he can point it out.  And like the true attention whore that I am, I play right into it, developing a whole “persona” to go along with my flustered awareness.  We just have different styles of humor with only a portion of overlap.  The most ridiculous scenarios easily amuse me.  To be a little more precise: give me a cat video any day and I will laugh so hard I will cry.  He will not.

I don’t mean to discourage him or his compliments in any way. He is an amazing man and honest.  That’s why I always go to him for an opinion.  He will not sugar coat it.  If I wasn’t good in a play or in what I’m writing he will tell me.  Which is a double edged sword, for him and me.  The fact of the matter is that if he says I’m good at something he truly means it, and with that I am energized.  So,  during our trip I’m going to be extra-observant and take copious notes, and when I get back I can write a book proposal.