I’m going to be spontaneous…any moment now…probably

30 Oct

At the time of writing, dear reader, I have been married for almost two years. It has been wonderful, challenging, bloody hard work, exciting, but most it has made me grow as a person in ways I never knew I needed to, never wanted to, never thought I could, never thought I would. Because that is a lot of work and I could be reading or eating chocolate as the perfect pile of imperfection I truly am.

But Sketch is worth it. I do wish I could have grown more physically, as in upwards in length, because Sketch is a giant and I’m tired of only being able to view his elbows without use of a footstool and binoculars. Not that he doesn’t have lovely elbows mind you.

Image result for beautiful elbows men

Google images remains my favourite hobby…looked up ‘beautiful elbows men.’ 

It did not disappoint 

 In some ways however, I have not grown. In some ways, it is possible I have regressed. Just last week for example, I was invited to attend a fabulously fancy event. I am not mentally equipped in any way for these events, as a review of previous blogs would show. While the large part of my angst is for another blog (should I get round to it), there was a moment of self-realization that I am a nincompoop. I had not thought to pick up a plate and had instead filled my blazer pocket with sticks of celery. Seemed perfectly rationale at the time. Later in the event as I sat at little round tables with total strangers discussing topics I really know nothing about, I reached into my pocket for said snack and began eating. Celery is a loud food. A loud food that maybe should not be kept in ones clothes.

Anyway, to the Sketch. So my move across the world to a land unknown, to another new job and another new State has left me a tad exhausted. As such I am not facilitating the wedded bliss of exploration that I wish I was. Instead I am embracing pajamas and telly.

On Friday, all this changed. I’m not sure why. But I was fueled with a desire to travel. Wanderlust. To gather up my chap and whisk him away for a spectacular weekend. I came home full of pep and vigor. I was ready to take us on a trip. A sudden trip. To somewhere! Given however, that I am me, instead things went as follows:

Me: Sketch! Let’s go away together! For the weekend!

Sketch: OK! Where do you want to go? When shall we leave?

Me: (really haven’t thought this through) Um…give me a minute…

Sketch: *knows me rather well and starts playing his video game*j

Me: RIGHT! I have my laptop, let’s have a look! Let’s plan! Let’s go!

Sketch: *still playing his game* When do you have to be back at work?

Me: Um…Monday probably…

Sketch: *gaming* ok so we leave tonight? Tomorrow morning? I’m down to go whenever.

Me: *starting to hyperventilate* Yes! Right! Um…*begins to search the internetticles and realizes that I literally do not know anywhere to visit on this giant continent*

Me: New Plan…

Image result for anxiety humor

Sketch: *gaming but sensing my panic* Ok, how about (begins to suggest places)

Me: *mental breakdown sets in, no ideas or thoughts, everywhere is so far and so expensive and I don’t know where it is* EEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Image result for spontaneous humor

Sketch: *gaming, attempts to offer advice*

Me: *internal screaming with occasional outbursts of external screaming well underway, searches internetings further* How about…eeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, how about I do more research and get a list and a plan and have a better idea for the future??!!

Sketch: *gaming, nods to self in a totally unsurprised way* Ok.

Me: *comforts self that I have been wise and sensible and will make a plan and talk to Americans and find places and book them and THEN be spontaneous*

Sketch: *gaming still, but senses this too* So no travels this weekend then?

Me: *confident in my lies to self* Oh we will totally go somewhere!

Me: *Saturday: go to DC which is 30 minutes away, get an insect bite on my hand that I am convinced was by an invisible snake. Sunday: day spent in pajamas watching telly*

Me: Reflecting on my weekend…

Image result for procrastination humor


There is always next weekend …and until that time I am content to look in the mirror and reflect upon the patience of my husband while thinking of myself…

Image result for delay humor



Also thank you Google for the images I did use from google images – please note this as a reference/citation – no credit is taken for any of their humor!

*a tiny bit of credit is taken*



A Dog’s Day Out. (Alternate title: Happy Birthday M’mother-in-law)

9 Jul

Today’s reading is brought to you from the perspective of a wee dog. Also a dog that wees. A dog that wees upon the carpet of the owner of this blog. But you know what I say, NOTHING, I’M A DOG. It’s amazing I’m even able to type this given how huge my paws are.

Now, gentle reader, you may be confused and well you might be. I could explain. And do you know, by jingo, I WHIL!

As a small puppy I was recently purchased by a charming southern gentleman who sees everything and his lovely lady with a strange love of forks. Thankfully as a dog, I have no need of forks. I am however, confident that I could convince her to give me all the forks. Yes, all the forks, but that is a story for another time…

Today we came to Baltimore to visit the son of the lady and his wife. It is his wife who owns this blog. I have commandeered this blog for my own purposes. My purpose is to write a blog. Wheels within wheels you understand. Bark.

My main complaint of the day (for yes I begin with a complaint) is that the weather was too hot with too little shade. The main complaint of the lady who owns this blog is that STRANGERS CHASE YOU THROUGH THE STREETS IN ORDER TO PET YOUR DOG AND THEY ARE WEIRD AND SQUEAKY AND STAND FAR TOO CLOSE (more on that later). Now, I am gorgeous. I am a Rottweiler. A three month old puppy. With a silky black coat and two little brown patches above my eyes. My name…(please note the dramatic pause and honour it) is…MR STONEY BROOK. My voice is a little deeper and more wonderful than that of Mr. Louis Armstrong. I’m also better at the trumpet. These paws are remarkable. As am I. Bark a second time.

Where I walk, people turn and stare and smile and coo. They flock around me. If I weren’t so humble it could almost turn my head. However, I am more interested in trying to eat the leaves and rocks. All of the leaves and rocks. Those damn leaves. So sneaky. They plot you know. They plot and I must destroy them. To protect my lady and her forks.

I must now take a sudden break to flop dramatically to the floor and pant. The lady who owns this blog will take over until I am ready to resume my ponderings.

HELLO AGAIN, TIS I, (whatever code name I’ve been using for myself – it is late, I forget). So today we had my in-laws and their dog over. It was wonderful to see them all. What was less wonderful was attempting to walk through the streets with an adorable dog. I have always considered myself to be a relatively tolerant sort of bean. I smile at humans when they pass, I say my pleases and thank yous, I’ve never committed treason or murder. However, I have never experienced the social anxiety of facing hordes of adoring public. Literally three times we had groups of women chase us (yes, CHASE US) in order to plead to pet Mr. Stoney Brook. I have just had t-shirts printed saying his name, age and breed, with an extra sentence saying ‘yes he DOES have large paws doesn’t he’ so we don’t have to keep repeating it. ‘Yes he IS a puppy’ (gah!). My growing temptation, when asked by the people, with their outstretched arms, of ‘may I pet your dog’ was to respond, ‘yes, but only if I can pet you’. M’father-in-law carried a spray bottle of water to keep Mr. Stoney cool. On several occasions I wished to grab the spray bottle and spray the humans to keep them at bay.

So the lesson I learned today is that I am a terrible person.


Hello, woof. Look, this is me, am I not beyond compare. Adorable. Handsome. Is my tongue not pink and tongueish.

At the start of this post I mentioned that I may have done a tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiny wee upon the carpet of the blog lady’s home. What happened was, you see, I needed a wee. And so I did the wee. Which led to the unusual sight (after some frantic activity of everyone around me having the audacity to clean away the urination I had so kindly provided) of the male owner of me, sniffing the carpet to make sure the scent was gone. Waste of Grade A wee if you ask me. THAT STUFF IS GOLD, SON. Anyhoo, bark.

And so onward we go. I live with curse of being perfection itself, surrounded by lesser mortals who pander to my every whim.




It’s been a while

12 May

It has always been a while…I’m so inconsistent. Chalk it up to chalk. ALWAYS BLAME THE CHALK.

Well fair reader, since last we spoke (I spoke, you listened. As it should be. Know thy place, mortal) such a lot has happened. I got a new job and Sketch and I moved to another city within the so-called States that are apparently United but in reality appear to be entirely different countries.

Rather than just tell you where it is, i shall give you hints…

Our new city is made from 80% crab.

Can you guess where it is yet?

I’ve only been here a month, that is the only clue.

It is Baltimore. Land of many things, some wonderful, some very sad.

But rather than dwell in things that have no place in a comedy blog, let us return to this issue of crabs.

I don’t believe I’ve shared my entirely appropriate fear of the crab. They are, as Billy Bailey calls them, sideways quislings, among other things.

I have been terrified of crabs since I was about 8 years old, innocently crabbing with a chum at the seaside, oblivious to the evil I was about to encounter.

Then suddenly, from the shallow pool, millions, MILLIONS I TELL YOU, of tiny sideways barbarians, scuttling with their lunacy on full display.

Oh it proper spooked me.


I don’t even care if the crab is unexpectedly glamorous and dresses better than I do…


I just really, really, really really, don’t like them.

So, being a rationale person, you understand, I did what any sane person would. I dwelt on the scuttlebeats of the great deep and allowed my imagination to go to a bad place.

And thus my conviction grew that if you eat a crab, it will reform inside of you pincer its way back out through your middle. 


I’m a nurse, and a PhD, and I know these things.


But I know live in Baltimore and it is so crabby. So much crab. Everywhere. All the time.


Just a matter of time…

Well, unless the crabs get us, until next time dear ones.




12 Jul

Well, my small but growing group of ardent admirers it has been far too long since I updated you.And so I shall update now. But not in an informative way, oh no. And not briefly either. No. For this is not the way of the me. And certainly not now I have a PhD. HELLO POMPOUS ME!

So, I find it hard to write when I have no whimsy and the past few months have less whimsical than previous years. Moving country, starting a new job, getting married, setting up a new life, changing and adjusting to new everything…it is difficult to spot the whimsy when you don’t even know what is normal anymore.

To be fair my yard stick for measuring normal has never been quite the normal length as it was.

What even is a yard stick. HUSBAND, FETCH ME A YARD STICK. I just looked up ‘yard stick’. It’s a ruler. What the heck people? Just call it a ruler.


All rulers should come with a free nun.

See this is the problem. So many things are not called the same things that I know them by, so when I’m asking for something or talking about something and I’m greeted by silence, baffled looks, misunderstandings, outright laughter, the sound of the wind whistling through a deserted street, clocks chiming, squirrels staring at me aghast, and at times a demand to meet me on the battlefield at noon to have it out with swords. At other times my blissful English accent is so confounding to people here it remains almost impossible to purchase everyday items, so even just asking for simple things like ‘butter’ and ‘water’ have become overly complicate How can a person be whimsical when they can’t even buy water or a camel???

And yes I do need a camel. Because of eight very specific reasons.

Anyway. So I got married some of the months ago. I’m going to say eight months…some anyway. And throughout life you see depictions of newly married life as being:

  1. Fraught with anxiety as you settle into the new role (fairly accurate – TRYING TO WIFE IS OFTEN HIGHLY CONFUSING WHEN ONE IS FAR MORE USED TO SINGLE PERSONING AND PLAYING WITH CATS)

cat husband

Sigh, sometimes you have to put the cat down and give the husband a hug too.

2. Full of arguments over stupid things (inaccurate – requesting that cupboard doors be shut and that one does not leaving water running for ONE HUUUUUNDRED years before you shower is NOT a stupid thing!!!!!!!)

3. Full of ‘how’s your father’ (just realized how ghastly that description is and as I’m British I cannot comment any further without bursting into horrified flames). Actually I can; if you google ‘polite ways to say sex’ what comes up is lots of people saying ‘no’. Instead I shall just refer to this alarming webpage: http://www.thedatereport.com/dating/communication/1552-100-different-ways-to-say-sex/ My favorites are ‘Horizontal refreshment’ or ‘quimsticking’. Actually I’m feeling all uncomfortable again. And I’m sure Murgatroyd is too. So…onwards.

4. Potentially distressing encounters with new in-laws who dislike you, or yours who dislike your newly married person. And this is what today’s little missive will address. Because this, my fine readership, is not the experience of I, the writer, and Sketch, the random vagabond I found on a train and forced to marry me. (Yes, romance is alive and well.) In fact we agree that when it came to families we both have awesome ones. And today I shall speak of my new family.

‘In-laws’, Webster’s dictionary describes them. Because that is what dictionaries do.

If you are to peruse the internet, and I do not advise this if you plan on leading a full and happy life, but if you do, you will see that most (yes, an internet-worthy generalization) content makes the claim that in-laws are the worst. That mother-in-laws are ghastly and bossy and father-in-laws are quiet and weak. I’d give examples but I don’t have the time. (*hushed whisper* I actually do have the time but I can’t be bothered, teehee).

Well, internet and judgmental folks out there – FIE ON YOU BECAUSE MY IN-LAWS ROCK.

As indeed do my actual laws. Or ‘family’ as I also call them.

However, let us not think for one second that they are not hilarious and slllllllllllightly barmy. No indeed, what Sketch has provided me with is a whole new array of humans to delight in! He gives so much! He also takes my chocolate and last crisp so it’s not all fine sailing!

I have never sailed.

I apologise for using references I cannot substantiate with actual facts.

I did not mean to lie.




But…but I said I was sorry…

throne of lies

Oh you know what…I care a lot less now. At least I have a throne. What do you have?


bull chair

Some sort of bull chair.


giant pants

I’m not sure what this is but it came up when I searched ‘stupid chair’. I love the places google searchers can take me.

But wait! I said don’t traverse the internet…


And so the circle of life continues.

Anyway, I digressed a tad: my in-laws – my parents-in-law are wonderful. They are very kind, very generous, and hilariously eccentric in brand new ways to me.

These are my favorite things about my in-laws so far:

Mother-in-law aka The Fork Hustler (TFH):

TFH has stringently high standards of cleanliness and neatness. Something I love about her. However, in witnessing her approach to her home and the humans who enter it I have come to the conclusion that she has a special compartment in her brain that over rides all loving feeling towards even those she made with her own body.

For enter into her home and you will see her mild mannered tone go in a second from ‘hello’ to…WASH YOUR HANDS, TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES!!!!!!!!

This might not be unusual in and of itself for a houseproud person, but it is blasted at her adult children and her husband and indeed new comers. It is also powered through ones ears when one has actually already done both of those things which can be confusing when you are new to the house. Indeed I wondered if I should grubby my hands and re-insert my shoes just so she could witness it firsthand.

Second, and I shall limit myself to just two of my favorite things I like to watch TFH doing at this time, is her relationship to cutlery. Well, I might also squeeze in here that I also find it wonderful that all crockery and cutlery and washed fully and then put in the dishwasher for a second washing. *happy sigh* beautiful cleaning.

On my first visit I was aware, while making a cup of tea, that teaspoons appeared to be in short supply. In fact all cutlery appeared to be in short supply. I was surprised for the house is beautifully decorated and furnished. However Sketch and I still have only two forks, knives and spoons and don’t seem to have any plans to get anymore so I did not think too far into the issue. Not, in fact, until my last trip to the in-laws of glory.

I was once more making tea and there were no tea spoons, there also appeared to be a lack of forks. My father-in-law, who we shall refer to as HE WHO SEES ALL (HWSA) said to TFH, there are not enough forks for everyone, you need to get out more.

TFH sighed with genuine frustration and barely concealed rage and walked to the next room where, as far as I could tell from the rustling and noise, I believe she removed some bricks from the wall and took out a plastic bag, the contents of which were well wrapped in paper towels. She held it close to her chest protectively and glaring at us all for being alive, she reached into what turned out to be her private stash of cutlery and withdrew a gleaming fork.

HWSA said he was just joking and we were all fine. At which point I believe a small vein in TFH’s forehead exploded. In her mind I think she made him burst into one thousand spoons. But instead, while making loud proclamations of the doom soon to befall HWSA the fork was lovingly replaced and the bag placed once more out of sight into what I can only assume was another dimension.

This level of madness honestly made me love her so much more. While I have no immediate plans to start popping out children, when I do I am certain to let them know that hiding spoons is a great way to make their grandmother provide free and loud entertainment. I shall give them popcorn to eat while they watch it all unfold.

Ah yes, ‘children’. This leads me to my father-in-law


Father-in-law: HE WHO SEES ALL (HWSA)

HWSA is a glowing example of a wonderful southern man. He is wise, thoughtful, full of southern wisdom and sayings that mean absolutely nothing to me but sound excellent, and three thousand frighteningly accurate observations on everyone. At a social gathering HWSA can be found sitting back in his chair surveying all before him. Usually with a look that implies he can’t quite believe humanity ever became this stupid. It’s not quite this:

sandra shock

Not least because he is not Sandra Bullock. Hmm, maybe it is like a more subtle and polite  version of this:

kevin shock

It is also not this but I sort of wish it was:

cbs upfronts 3 170512




Right, back to HWSA.

With many people it is best not to know what they are thinking because of how much stupidity that can be contained within a single cranium, with m’father-in-law though, I ALWAYS want to know what he is thinking. It is also often hilarious. However, one of his current conversational bents that rises up in each and every conversation with Sketch and I is this one: ‘well…all this will change when the kids come along’. His determination that we are fooling ourselves about when and where we will produce little humans is glorious. As Sketch remarked, you could be talking about basketball and HWSA will make that very statement:

Sketch: look, a basketball (N.B I don’t really know how one talks about basketball), look a man is running with the ball, he is now throwing it, I do like that throw, I also like his very baggy shorts, I shall buy some.

Other person watching the basketball: yes I too like the throwing of the basketball but I prefer the shorts of the other team, perhaps I shall buy some of them. Oh look, a scoring thing has happened as a result of the ball throwing.

HWSA: Well…this will all change when the kids come along.

Everyone else: ………………


HWSA: *chuckles to self*

You know I always thought I’d hate being asked or teased about having kids. They are messy and sticky and pregnancy looks like the most hideous thing I’ve ever witnessed. The magic of birth is a horror show of blood and tearing and screaming and noise and drugs. And while that may be a normal Saturday night for some, I happen to prefer a good book and some chocolate.However, from my in-laws, all of this is actually utterly charming and hilarious because they let me tease them back, like with this blog…yeah…chaps? This blog…my in-laws…helloooooo. *noting the moment my burgeoning relationship broke down*

But still…thank you Sketch for my new family. I am very happy.

N.B. while writing TFH just sent me a random text message saying her next step is remove all toilet seats she is tired of cleaning. I LOVE THIS WOMAN.




Lil New York update for you here

12 Jan

Oh my beloved, it hath been a long time, too long me thinks since last I wrote and you all failed to leave any comment or indication of your time with me.

What has happened that might be of interest?

Well let us think…

I submitted a grant for some very useful research I want to do.

I am painfully slowly working up my publications.

I proposed to Sketch.

The weather remains a little unreliable and often pleasantly warm for the time of year.

I love my job.

Sketch said yes.

My dear friends are dear and blooming, like flowers. Thistles to be precise.

I have two plants in my apartment now! Both from dearly beloved friends/family. Hence the flower analogy. Although neither plant flowers…so perhaps that was an ill-placed analogy.

I found a store that sells PG Tips right near where I live!

I married Sketch.

I replaced my air mattress with a much more comfortable bed.

I still really need a rug.

In many ways, Sketch also married me.

I found an english shop, a fish and chip shop (called A salt and battery) and a little tea shop that has table cloths with the same pattern that my grans curtains used to have.

Yes, I think that about covers it for now.

I’ll write more when I am next covered in whimsey but surfice to say, all encounters with Sketche’s family have continued to be embarrassing to a tomato-ey shade of red.



I’M GOING HOME FOR A VISIT!!!!!!!!!! How I miss the land of Eng!

Still not dead!

12 Nov

Seven weeks in this land I have now been. I think seven. Some. Some weeks I have been in this land.

Much has happened. I will share three fourths with you. The rest will be lies. A tiny proportion will be cheese.

Maths remains a struggle.


My job is glorious. I love it. It’s a lot of work. That part is tiresome. But then I love the work. I find it hard to stop doing the work. Except now…when I write my blog…or get a moment of whimsy. Today is full of whimsy.

I had purchased a glorious giant air mattress which I came home yesterday to discover had a hole in it. The superintendent was kind enough to loan me a new mattress made for a person half the person I am. In every way. My character alone was bigger. And so now I must go and buy an actual bed. Like some sort of grown up. Pah.

I recently met all of Sketche’s New York based family. Or at least about 30 of them. That was a lot. Things that happened during that visit that were unexpected and that being a deeply awkward British person has in no way prepared me to mentally handle:

  • Introducing myself to lots of people
  • Speaking at a volume where people can hear me
  • Having the card I’d written for his aunt (for twas her event I attended) read out
  • No one being able to read my handwriting
  • Having to read my card out loud
  • To 25 people
  • While being filmed
  • Being pulled into the centre of room and having to dance
  • While being filmed

Still…they were lovely and I am not quite dead from embarrassement. So a win all round.

What else has been news worthy…

I’m sure there have been things…

I’m making friends.

Not out of bluetac and stickyback plastic you understand.

Actual already alive people.

I am liking my new church. I have managed to go there more than once. (Twice)

Sketch does not like my cooking.

I made a very reasonable meal of prawn, scrambled egg, chicken and pasta with salad.

His objection came from my cooking the prawn with the egg in tartar sauce.

And then putting it all in one big bowl.

And putting on more tartar sauce.

Once his laughter subsided he declined to finish it. I had it cold for dinner two days later AND LOVED IT. So fie on you Sketchface.

The weather here remained ‘manic pixie girl unstable’ until about Tuesday. It was November and 19-24 degrees of centegrades! Now however it is dribbling down, the leaves are browning and falling and dying and everything is decaying in the dirt to doom and depression. So I’m in my element! It’s like being at home! I walk with a lilting and jaunty gait.

There is more. I can’t think of it. I’ll be home for two weeks in January! Very exciting.

Next post…my first thanksgiving. Will I give thanks…OR WILL I TAKE THANKS?

*disclaimer: still a little hazy on the details of the celebration

One month in…

22 Oct

Well chaps, I have been a living person in the United States of the America for ONE MONTH as of today! I’ve always been a living person but now I’m much more livingy. It’s a thing. Go with it. I have a PhD.

Despite being immersed in this new culture I am currently listening to the News Quiz on BBC Radio 4 which is about as British as it gets. A chortle emerges from my face every so often.

So how goes it with me I hear at least three of you ask. Well…I’ll tell you in the form of a short musical.

*guffaw* not really.

Work continues well. Last week I had an odd experience where my boss positively leapt at me and invited me to a benefit dinner for a charity (obviously a charity…it is unlikely to be a benefit dinner to raise money for benefits). It was being held two hours from when she asked. I accepted because that’s what I do, despite knowing nothing about any of it.

Living five minutes from my job is proving terribly helpful and so a work chum (delightful woman) and I came back to my home, prepared and set out like well-heeled interpid explorers. One traffic-heavy cab ride later we arrived late to the benefit where we found I was not on the list. Somehow I was still allowed in – no doubt due to my spectacular heels. We entered the event as some speeches were occuring and had to weave our way through the tables to find our table. By this stage my British awkward gene was exploding with warning signals and I was ready to simply fall to the floor and remain there, face down, until everyone had left for the evening.

But I made it, sat down and we then realised I had essentially stolen my chum’s bloke’s seat. She then planned to leave but I may have pathetically begged her not to. Her chap was on route so I said I was happy to go when he arrived. In the meantime I was able to positively FEAST on three lettice leaves and half a walnut. I’m still full to this very day.

He arrived and I departed, like an awkward gazelle.

I found a cab growing in the street and used it for my own travel purposes, collecting my own chap (Sketch) on route home. The cab driver, an older gentleman, sang hymns in an alto voice for the majority of the journey. It was unexpected.

In other news, well, I am finally set up with health insurance and need no longer avoid being hit by a bus or a disease carrying possom. Things I’ve been most careful till now.

My apartment is glorious. I still have need of a few things but they are comfort driven rather than neeeeeeed. I am just thankful I can get PG Tips from the supermarket near my home.

Today the empire state building is lit up in blue. Yesterday it was stacked as red, white, blue. My honest first thought was ‘oh how French’. I chose not to share this thought when I realised it probably represented the American colours, and also they seem to have issues with the french for some reason.

I love my job by the way.

The weather…now I am english. It is mandatory that the weather takes a lead role in any updates on my life. Last Monday it was about 21 degrees C. By Friday it had dropped to about 9degrees. By Monday of this week it was 2degrees C and I was ready to roll myself up in a large sock and not emerge until spring. But then…TWIST…yesterday it went up to 21 and today was 23…TOMORROW IS MEANT TO BE 25DEGREES CENTEGRADE. It’s madness. I can’t keep up. I might explode. Why so unstable american weather? Calm down.

What else…I think I’ve found the church I want to join. I’m going back this week to check it out but it was delightful. After church my chap and I met with a friend and her bloke for brunch. Later my chap and I wandered back to my home and picked up some food. We were so smug and couply and happy that I still feel inclined to slap us.

On Saturday we took the East River Ferry down the East River. Because if there is one thing I can do, it’s stay on a boat and not make it veer off course. Imagine if we took the East River Ferry down a different river!! WHAT SORT OF MADNESS WOULD THAT BE?!! There is more to this story and this day but none of it is remotely interesting to anyone who isn’t me, and I already know what happened.

Clearly I’ve had more than three days in the past month but it’s all so higgeldy piggeldy but let us see, a summary:

  • I’m dearly loving the people I work with and am begining to grow/force friendships with them
  • This had led to more wine drinking than I’m used to. I’m going to have to revert back to just drinking tea because I really don’t like wine that much.
  • The friends are lovely though. I was out for a dinner this evening, there was PG Tips. My friend proudly expressed her delight at her new vegan diet which did make me question why we had just been eating chicken…
  • I have found a friend with the same taste in comedy who knows many british comedy shows that many british people don’t know, plus her cat looks like mine!
  • I am waiting to be paid and have a better grasp on my finances after all the bills but I intend to start learning American Sign Language. I love their one handed alphabet.
  • I have been lost and confused on no less than 5 occasions.
  • My life is busy, and full and delightful and fun and interesting and the minor madnesses are not distressing me like they often do
  • I am finding that deeply unsettling
  • A lot of time is spent looking suspiciously around to try and figure out how it suddenly got so lovely
  • I thank God for it
  • while looking suspiciously around
  • It’s possibly the absence of having to do a PhD…
  • I should go to bed. I’m going to a ward round on the ICU of the hospital I’m based at for 8am.
  • I’m not even alive at 8am
  • Is 8am even a real time?
  • It’s good that I have flexible working hours!
  • For mum and dad and the Kidds…Murdoch Mysteries is about three series behind here than in the UK. UPDATE ME WHEN IT STARTS AGAIN.
  • Today I said elevator instead of lift.
  • Sigh.

Pip pip