Susi just told me, this morning, that she once was projcetile vomiting and “bile was squirting out her tear ducts”. I happen to think this is impossible. However, if anyone can provide me with empirical evidence, I will, naturally change my stance.
In the house that we are staying in, there is a woman working here whom I love. Her name is… well…. J, for anonymity’s sake. When I first met her I was frightened of her, much like everyone else who meets her. She is grandmother-ish in age, Irish and has been employed as a cleaning lady in the house for 35 years. By now J is and basically is the boss. Not in title, but by proxy. The details of J’s life are a bit of a mystery. Partly because everyone is afraid to ask. She won’t yell at you; I don’t know if she raises her voice, but she has a way of cutting off compliments, real or imagined, with an acerbic wit with that leaves a taste in your mouth like too many Sweet-Tarts. Little by little I have been getting to know her.
She has never missed a day of work in the 35 years she has been working here, and it is doubtful that she missed work at any previous jobs.
J appears to be morally conservative but open to fresh ideas as long as they don’t go against her strongly held personal convictions.
So after a few weeks my fear of her is gone. I gave her a box of chocolates this morning for UK mother’s day and she was very gracious. She was very ill with a cough and when I expressed my concern, she said that she would “work through it”. I imagine that this is how her life has been. A series of discomforts that this wonderful woman has chose to just work through.
You would never catch her picking her nose on the bus, but you would never see her abandon her station in life to ride in a taxi. For her, piety doesn’t seem like an option but a birth rite.
We went to the ballet last night. It was very good and we had some
really interesting seats. They cost 4 pounds a piece and were
basically above the stage, so we could only really see what was
happening when it was at the front of the stage. I had come from BJJ
class, and there were some similarities. At class, someone got a
bump on the nose and sprayed blood all over the place. From our
seats we could see blood all over the stage. Apparently ballet is a
full-contact sport. Darcey Bussell, one of the finest ballerinas in
the world, actually slipped in the blood. Gross.
Here is another picture, I got this from falling out of bed. Really. It has faded, so now I am employable.
I just got a tat.
I just read an article and looked at a website about Big Cats in
Britain. Apparently, since a law making it very expensive to own
exotic and dangerous animals, the sightings of large cats in the wild
has really exploded in Britain. People seem to think that the pet
owners released their panthers into the wild. There are websites
devoted to it, and all sorts of people coming out of the woodwork
with videos, photos, footprints, etc.
Had a nice steak dinner last night, which was a very rare treat. So
today, I went to the Indian Veg restaurant down the road, in the
heart of Islington. The restaurant is 2.95 all you care to eat and
it has these really great quotes on the walls. Things about Miss
India having eaten here. How you have better bowel movements from a
vegetarian diet. And finally above the register is a sign that says
“You have just enjoyed a cruelty free meal at Indian Veg” which is nice.
I had to walk through an open air market with people selling cell
phones, underwear and dim sum, which is always a bit peculiar.
All in all it was a rather surreal day.
I just signed up for the Gracie Barra here in London.
I had an introductory class to see what my level was and I wound up
rolling with a legend.
I originally thought I would roll with Roger Gracie, but he couldn’t
make it, so I rolled with his Dad, Mauricio Gomes. He is a 7th degree
black belt. I know it only covers 2 inches of your butt, but that
belt works for making people run away from you. Mauricio is a really
nice guy. He generally doesn’t suss people, so everyone came and
watched me get my ass kicked. I enjoyed the school, and was gushing
like a school girl when he said I was, “not bad”. Of course, now I
just have to put my limbs back in their sockets.
I am still looking for work in London. Everyone says I need to be
patient. Not my strongest suit.
I noticed that people express their political views here with bubble
gum. On the tube there are a lot of ads featuring George Bush. They
say something like “Public Speaking, like many things is best left to
the experts.” The picture of George Bush is on the ad, for a company
I don’t’ recognize. He is wiping his furrowed brow. A look of
exasperation on his pained face. The face, on a lot of the ads, is
also covered with used chewing gum.
In the Midlands, visiting Clan Susi and celebrating Bob’s birthday.
It has been a bit cold and overcast but it was a good time. I’ll be
putting up a link to video of the swan attacking. We are going to
suss the details for the party in July, as well. Details to follow.
Back to London in a few hours. I’ll also put up a picture of the
black eye I gave myself falling out of bed. The shiner is fading, but
it was a good one. Oh, we also went to a fish and chips shop, a
quintessentially British institution.