Friday, July 06, 2007

Getting caught up

I've been back a little over a week now, and am finally settling back into my groove.

Work has been manageable, which is nice since I had three weeks of emails to plow through and respond to. I have decided that email is the scourge of mankind, evidence that the Antichrist is nigh. My colleagues and supervisors have been very supportive and kind, except of course for the guy who got bent out of shape because I didn't greet him warmly and ask about his vacation on my first day back. That guy is a twat. But the rest of them have been great. The women on my team took my house key a few days before I returned to the UK and stocked my fridge with staple items and left flowers, chocolates and a card to welcome me home. May I also say that they told me, completely unsolicited, that when they arrived the first time the swans made a beeline for their car and refused to let them out. They went to lunch and came back later. I TOLD you those swans are evil.

I went to classes last weekend and my friends at school were incredible. They made me feel loved and supported, and we ended up with a big night out last Friday, first at a Thai restaurant where the nice waitress put orchids in our hair, and then at the student union bar for much Zorba dancing and plate breaking. Many of them have continued to call, text and email me this week to check on me, which I really appreciate even though I haven't had time to respond promptly. I think I worried one of them because it took me a few days to reply. I feel kind of bad.

I slept 15 hours on Saturday night. I woke up in the middle of the night and had to pee, and I ran bang into the bathroom door jamb in the dark, and am sporting a rather nasty bruise on my shoulder as a result. I also came close to missing the toilet, something that isn't that easy to do when you're a girl....toilet seats fundamentally help you find center. Luckily I saved myself before I peed on the floor.

Had a leadership retreat for a few days this week. A group of us go to a nearby conference center and do some strategy stuff and some personal development. These are always good fun, but many of my friends attend as well so they are social AND productive.

Tonight I went to TGIFriday's for dinner with my friend Kat because she wanted a burger. It was actually pretty good....they make a fine Manhattan there, which I did not know because I never go to TGIFriday's.

I have decided that the wide hip belt and the cargo pant are two of the worst things to happen to English women ever. These, combined with ballet flats or skimmers and a smock or mini-dress, can make even the most attractive, perfect-figured woman look like a dumpy fashion slave or a trashy extra on Eastenders. They're a good look on maybe five women in the entire country, yet it seems everyone is intent on wearing them. Not that I am some sort of style maven, but I have figured out that cargo pants are not my friend and I require a bit of a heel.

I really like the Arctic Monkeys, but tonight they appeared on Friday Night with Jonathan Ross dressed as clowns. I may have to rethink this.

If you buy taramasalata and it goes past its date, it is best to keep it in the fridge until trash day and then bin it. Binning in on Thursday is a mistake by Friday.

I have decided to pick up an English accent. I've picked a few posh people on telly and I listen and repeat everything they say. If Berlitz can teach me French this way, I don't see why I can't learn to speak like Kirsty Allsopp.


Writeprocrastinator said...

First, email not evil, it is just like a guard dog. It depends on the person who is behind it and their intentions.

"I TOLD you those swans are evil."

I don't know if I have mentioned this before (probably have, since I only do the same seven jokes over and over again), but you should hire some French to hang out near your pad, geese instinctively run away from them.

TGIFriday's in England??? Amazing, do they make them wear "flair?"

Taramasalata goes wrong way too fast in general and a whole day to ferment, would quite an adventure in revulsion.

Beth said...

Why is there always one twatboy in every office?

You sound good. You're lucky to have such a grand group of friends, swans be damned.

And please go all Brit on us!

Coaster Punchman said...

I'm excited to hear this new accent you're going to develop. I hope it's not a cross between Gillian Anderson, Kevin Costner & Madonna. But if it is, should I pretend it's not and play along, or will it be my duty to notify you? You know your duties to me in this area.

Ben-Bob said...

A posh English accent is one of the few things you could acquire that could make me love you even more....

Dale said...

I'll be shying away from ordering taramasalata which I do like for a while just thinking about what you bin doing with it.

Melinda June said...

Yes, WP, "flair" is a requirement. And they are really chatty. In fact, worse than in the states because they seem to be doing an impression of an American.

Yes, beth, it is sad that there must be a twat in every office. How bad is yours?

Ben, now that I know that I can make you love me more it's DEFINITELY coming your way.

Smart man, dale. Taramasalata is delicious, but it's time for some space.