Video - Puppy Dog kills a bunny

He Said She Said - A scary moment

They were catching up on episodes of the first season of Drop Dead Diva.  

She was watching intently.

He was half watching - creating a new presentation on his laptop.

The heroine, Jane, had just taken her coffee and morning donut from her secretary and walked into her office, taking a massive bite from the donut.  Jane turned to see her colleague/love interest (it's complicated) asking her a question.  Jane panicked, and threw the rest of the donut into her bag.

"AAAAAAARGH!" she screamed, making him jump ten feet in the air.

"What?  What?" he asked, panicked.

"She... she put a sticky donut in her bag!"

He looked up at the TV, assessing the situation.

"It's OK, honey," he said, patting her arm.  "It's a stunt donut."

She looked at him, dragging her horrified gaze from the screen.

"Yes," he said, on a roll now, "it was a stunt donut and a stunt bag.  A cheap knock off.  Everything is OH-KAY.   Take a deep breath.  No Vuitton was harmed in the making of this program."

She sighed, turned back to the TV, and all was well with the world again.

Video - The sweet ballet of love (with Dogette)

Health is Wealth - Dropping hints like bricks

 

Fluffy Bear and I made it to the gym today.  Well done us!

Silent Evil has not only got us into the habit of working out but, when we do, we work pretty hard.  We are also still not as fit as we should be, so we also look like we are working out hard.  We pant, we sweat, we swear.  Yes, you read that right.  After doing 15 press ups for the 3rd time, I tend to whoosh out the odd "Fuh-uhk!"

There was a trainer there today - I don't know her name - working with a male client.  He just wouldn't shut the hell up.  She'd give him equipment, tell him what to do and, rather than starting the exercise, he'd just stand there, holding the ball/weight/whatever and keep telling her his inane stories.  I think he spent at least half an hour telling her about his recent flights, connections, people sitting near them complaining about his screaming child, and on and on and on.

A trainer has to satisfy their client, so she replied, and chatted with him, but she kept trying to start the exercises.

"I completely agree - that's just crazy.  OK, ten on each side."

It didn't work.  He'd just keep talking.  We were doing two sets of an exercise in the time he did one.

Eventually we all ended up on mats in the cool down area.  She was sitting in front of her guy, who was still talking rather than doing ab exercises.

And that's when I guess she just had to say something.  It was pretty passive-agressive, what I'd call dropping hints so bit they fall like bricks.  She turned to us:

"Hi!  You guys are working really hard today!  Good job!  I wish my clients would work out that hard... uh, when I'm not here!"

Yeah, that final bit was obviously quickly added as an afterthought.  

I never thought we'd be held up as an example to others at the gym!  

WOW!

Video - Find me somebody to love

Being a Doggy Mama - Boot fetish

Puppy Dog is fixed, but he can still get his freak on.  It's a domination thing, like his constantly humping Theo, his friend, including in the middle of dinner parties.

The other night I had my dear friend Dolly over for dinner.  

There was lasagne, expertly cooked by Fluffy Bear, there was wine, inexpertly chosen by me.  

And there was Puppy Dog.

Puppy Dog, who decided he liked Dolly's knee high lace-up boots.

A lot.

First there was the sniffing.

I didn't pay much attention to this.  So he was sniffing her shoes - so what?  They probably smelled of other dogs and cats and places unknown.  No big deal.

Dinner was eaten, wine was drunk, conversation flowed.

Then, the licking.  He was licking her boots.  

OK, a bit gross, and she probably didn't want dog spit on her leather, but the licking was minor, she didn't seem to notice it so, instead of interrupting our chat and yelling at my furkid - the kidless hate how us parents punctuate our lives with constant screeching - I let it be.

Another bottle was opened, an ice bucket brought out for convenient top ups, conversation continued to flow.

And then I saw it.  

He approached Dolly,  he looked up at her to check she was distracted, he made some licking movements to show he was friendly, he tottered a little as he tried to silently, inconspicuously position himself over the boot which was tantalizingly waving in front of him (Dolly had crossed her legs, so one boot was off the floor).  

I had one eye on him, and one eye on Dolly, still trying to pay attention to what she was saying.  Dolly is always erudite and amusing, so it's worth staying tuned in.

Then I saw it.

The back legs pushed forward, just a little.  Hump-ready.

I clapped my hands, loud.  Dolly, mid-sentence, wasn't sure if I was about to laugh uproariously, or if I was showing audience appreciation.  Till she saw my eyes - I was glaring at Puppy Dog, who retreated to his cushion.

Humpterupption.

But, of course, he's an intelligent, tenacious little bugger.

He crawled forward on his cushion, inch by inch, then, making sure I was occupied, slowly stood and sidled over to The Boot.  I'd catch him just as he was trying to assume the position and yelled.

"NO!"

 Poor Dolly was somewhat bemused at the seemingly random interruptions.

 What does one say to a well heeled guest? My dog want's to hump your lovely boot?

 No.

So I muttered something about him having a foot fetish - Ha! Ha! So funny! - and spent the rest of the evening intermittently glaring at him so he didn't go near her.

Much catching up and drinking later, it was time to call the cab.  This just goes to show the singlemindedness of my dog.  As she was leaving, he put his paw around her boot and thrust his pelvis foward.

One last try before his beloved boot left him forever...

Divided by a Common Language - Love thy neighbor

 

We are about to go to a Block Party.

This seems to me to be an American phenomenon.  In suburban England, one does not consort with one's immediate neighbors.

I remember talking to a friend in the UK who had met her neighbor and got on well with her.  Then, she said, her neighbor asked her out.  She found a way to refuse.  When I asked her why, she said that being close to one's neighbor's is dangerous. 

"What if we become friends and then have a fight?" she asked.  "Then I have to see her every day."

Although I was initially horrified at her close-mindedness, after I thought about it, I saw her point.  It's a bit like the magazine articles these days that advise women not to shag men who live in their apartment building.

In England, if you happen to see your neighbor you do one of five things:

• Say "Hello", and smile, no teeth
• Wave and smile, no teeth
• Nod at them with small smile, no teeth
• Duck under your umbrella and pretend you didn't see them
• Take out your mobile phone and act like you have a call

Any other communication is carried out by letter, slipped through the letter box slot in the front door.  Even exchanging email addresses is too intimate.

I see people on the news here, when they are being interviewed about someone on their street found dead, or whose house burnt down, or whatever, saying things that indicate that, to some extent, they knew the person.

They say things like:

"Yeah, our kids used to play together.  They were a nice family."

In suburban England, the only reply would be:

"Well, he seemed like a nice chap.  Always said hello when we saw each other out gardening."

Or...

"They seemed like a nice family.  Never made any trouble.  No noisy parties or anything like that."

It's three minutes till we are supposed to step out and meet our fellow block dwellers.  We are sitting on the couch, front door closed, watching British TV.  Probably because we need a quick reminder of who we are and where we come from before we have to go out and assimilate.

Wish us luck.

Update on Tuesday, September 1, 2009 at 9:32AM by Ittybittycrazy

Kumar, who kindly left a comment (Hint! Hint!) has asked me what the mingling was like.

It was very nice, and very interesting.

One on one, people fascinate me and, 99% of the time, are very nice, so the conversations I had were great. 

Those of you who read this regularly will know that I am not a big fan of kids, so we'll gloss over that part.  They were there.  We ignored them.

The food brought by everyone else was very home made and very yummy.  It may be just that there is more of a tradition of cooking here (you try and cook regularly and significantly in a closet-sized British kitchen).  Or, of course, it could be that there was a little competitiveness going on.  Just a smidge.  A soupcon.  A nano-floobble. 

We have very different priorities  - as demonstrated by our offering on the table.  We bought some cheap-ass mini chocolate cupcakes with coloured thingies on them to keep the kids away from us.  But  - and it is a big but - we brought good alcohol.

We took a massive jug of Pimms and lemonade, the quintessential English summer drink, complete with floating bits of cucumber and orange. 

Of course, people had no idea what it was - or how lethal it is - and so they were quaffing it down.  Wasn't long before I had to take the jug back up to the house and refill it. 

Fluffy Bear said he heard someone say it was interesting iced tea! 

And so we are responsible, no doubt, for the hangovers of many people on our block on Monday morning.

Travel - Countries I have visited

visited 19 states (8.44%)
Create your own visited map of The World or Best time to visit Havana

Update on Saturday, September 26, 2009 at 3:12PM by Ittybittycrazy

Map now updated - once I figured out how to use the website... D'oh!

He Said She Said - Watching trashy movies

 

He was watching House Bunny, a movie she'd already seen, and recommended as trashy, fun, silly no-brain hour and a half of fun.

"She's going to make the geek sorority over, isn't she?" he asked.

"Just watch." she said.

He kept watching.

"They're going to throw a killer party and get all the rush girls to come, aren't they?" he asked.

"Just watch!" she said.

He watched for a few more minutes.

"How did they get the money to set up a volcano in their back yard?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter.  It's magic.  Whatever.  Just watch." she said.

There were a few more minutes of just the sound of the movie.  Then...

"The geek girls are becoming bitches, like the sorority they hated, aren't they?" he asked.

"Yes!  Now shhh!" she said.

About ten minutes passed.

"So there's going to be one of those confrontations where someone has to make an emotional speech, isn't there?" he asked.

"OH MY GOD!  This isn't Shakespeare!  Just enjoy the tight asses and perky boobs and fake blonde hair and the silliness of it all!  JUST WATCH!"

"But it's so obvious!"

"EVERY TIME YOU ASK A SILLY QUESTION OR MAKE A PREDICTION I AM GOING TO REWIND AND MAKE YOU WATCH IT AGAIN!  EVERY.  FRIKIN'. TIME!"

"Everything is going to work out OK in the end, isn't it?"

"How come something life threatening always happens on the spaceship?  Why does the rope always snap on the outside-the-ship-walky-thingy?  How come the bad alien always manages to shoot through the protective shields?  How come all the aliens are humanoid, or lizardy?  How is it possible that all alien cultures speak English?  HUH?  HUH?  HOW COME?"

"OK!  OK!" he squealed.  "I'll just watch!"

"Andgo buy me a latte!" she screeched.

"Yes, Honey.  I'll go buy you a latte, OK?  As soon as they save the sorority, as soon as she gets her sweet boyfriend back, as soon as the bitch sorority get their comeuppance and as soon as the movie shows them having their celebratory party with some cute little hip hop song."

"AAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

Memory Lane - Getting out of bed

I have no idea how or why, seeing as my parents were both early risers, but my siblings and I - back when we were living at home - liked to sleep, especially on weekends.

I have two alarms and I can reset them every half hour without any memory of doing so. It's my own particular band of sleep walking.

Only two things can wake me on a weekend morning these days: Fluffy Bear jumping on top of me for a tickle fest, and Puppy Dog licking my face.

When I was a teenager, I remember my father deliberately mowing the lawn on Saturday mornings right outside my bedroom window, with the gas mower, which sounded like a continous series of mini thunderbolts. I swear he went back and forth below my window for ten minutes. The grass in that patch was always veryshort. I had no choice but to take the hint.

My brother, when told by my mother to wake me up, had his own, unique, and very effective method. He'd pick up the entire mattress, turn it over and dump me on the floor. He was much bigger than me and no amount of squealing would stop him. I had a parquay floor with no carpet. Kissing that head first will wake up the dead.

But I had the odd moment when I could get revenge.

My sister was sleeping late once and I was bored, so I went into her room and started singing:

Wake up, wake up, it's a lovely day

Oh please wake up and come and play

The birds are singing in the trees (I never hit that high note right)

And you can hear the buzzing bees

Wake up, wake up... etc.

My sister had very long, expertly manicured nails. I'm surprised she didn't scratch my eyes out.

My mother was kindest about waking me up (except for when she despatched my brother). She'd come in at about 10, and softly say it was time to get up. Then she'd come again at about 11. At noon and softly tell me it was nearly lunch time. She knew exactly what motivated me.

Will move for food.

Small things amuse small minds - My Cyborg Name

Get Your Cyborg Name

He Said She Said - Quality time

 

They were watching TV.

Something was chasing the hero and his sidekick through the forest.

"Omigod, this is stupid," she said.

The sidekick tripped and fell.

"Well that's original!" she quipped.

At the last minute, the hero dragged his sidekick to safety.

"Screw this," she said, getting up from the couch, "I'm going to clean up the dishes."

She stomped off to the kitchen.  There was a lot of clanging and slooshing as she loaded the dishwasher, washed the pots and cleaned the counter tops.

She came back and sat down.

"Where the hell is he going?" she asked.

He sighed.

"He has to go to the magical island to save the prince," he said.

"Why?" she asked.

"To get a cure," he said.

They watched, for a few minutes, in silence.

Then the beast was revealed.

"ARGH!" she screamed.  "You didn't tell me this was going to be scary."

"It's just a TV show, Honey," he said in a placating tone.

The show continued.

"How do we know the cure will work, anyway?" she asked.

"The African wizard told him," he said.

"What wizard?" she asked.

"Do you want me to REWIND the show?" he asked, his voice rising with impatience.

"No," she said quietly.

There was a short pause.

"Oh puh-leeeez," she smirked.  "Like there were African wizards in Medieval England!"

"HONEY!" he yelled.

"What?" she squealed.  "You always say I don't sit with you and watch your shows!  I'm sitting, I'm watching!"

"Just... SSSH!" he hissed.

They kept watching.

"This is stupid, anyway," she mumbled.

He heaved a very long, very deep, sigh.

Diary of an Ex-employee - Day 113.0

 

I tried to fight it off, but the disease has finally taken hold.

I have Unemployeditis.

The symptoms are clear:

• The last time I washed my hair was so longer ago, it has started to clean itself
• I have acne.  All over.  Yes, even near to there
• I can't sleep at night
• I can't get up in the morning
• I have run out of stuff to watch on the DVR and have now added America's Got Talent to the queue.  I am also seriously considering following Hollywood House Husbands
• My nailpolish line is approximately a quarter inch from my cuticle and bits have flaked off the ends of my nails.  On the plus side, if you screw your eyes up and look at them sideways, they look like modern art
• The couch has an indent of my ass in the middle cushion
• My dog gets separation anxiety when I get up to go to the toilet
• I can feel the breeze blowing through the hairs on my legs
• I consider watering the garden a stimulating diversion
• I read tech Twitter updates and don't remember what the TLAs stand for
• I play hide and seek with the dog
• I drink 5 cups of tea a day - the coffee shop soy latte now has the same treat status as an double cone from a boutique ice cream shop
• Retired neighbors in a radius of 3 blocks say hello to me by name
• If I leave my gym pass behind, I get let in because all the receptionists recognize me
• I have run out of friends to have lunch with
• I can't bear the thought of another networking event

I know what's coming next.  The symptoms will get worse:

• Starting to watch Dr Phil on daytime TV
• Eating cold pizza for breakfast
• Scratching my privates in public
• Burping (belching) out loud
• Smoking roll ups
• Considering busking as a career
• Starting to edit my own music videos to clips of Real Housewives of Atlanta on youtube
• Breaking out Fluffy Bear's Guitar Hero

Man, I need a job.

And I know exactly the one I want.

Why don't theycall me?  WAAAH!

He Said She Said - Porn Moment

 

An email had come through to both of them from their landlord, asking them to let the handy man in that Friday to fix some radiators.

She positioned herself in his office doorway, one arm up the door jamb, left knee forward, left toes pointed and just brushing the floor, chest out, body draping stripper-style.

"Soooooo," she hissed.  "The repair man is coming.  Maybe he'll be wearing overalls rolled down at the waist, and a vest, and be all sweaty."

"What?" he said, looking up from his PC.

He paused when he saw her. 

She had his full attention.

"Yessssss," she hissed.  "He's coming to fix the pipes, to make sure there's...." she bent over and jutted out her lower lip... "HEAT!"

"Do you think he'll bring a tool?" he giggled.

"Oh, yesss," she hissed again, teetering a little to the left as she lost her balance.

"Well I better make sure I'm home then, just to make sure there's no funny business!" he said.

Then they both noticed how confused the dog looked, lying on the floor next to him, staring up at his hissing, teetering, strange Mama who, presumably, had some kind of lip injury.

And they laughed.

To read more in this series, click here.

He Said She Said - Dinner time

 

He flopped onto the couch.

"Oof!" he said.  "I think I need to take a little break from the PC."

She mumbled something.

"What was that, dear?" he asked.

"You could take a break in the kitchen," she whined.

"Is someone hungry?" he whined back, mocking her raspy, high voice.

"Shh!" she hissed.   "Listen!"

There was a pause.

"Did you hear it?" she asked.

"Hear what?" he said.

"My stomach!  Listen - there it goes again!"

"What's wrong with your tummy?" he fake-whined again.

"It's GROWLING!"

He took the tone of a parent, desperately trying to maintain their patience with a naughty child.

"Ask me nicely..."

"Pleeeease go coooook..."

"OK, then," he said, but he didn't move.

She stood up and leaned over him, pulling a threatening face and making her hands into claws.

"DON'T MAKE ME TICKLE YOU!" she yelled.

The dog barked, not understanding why he suddenly leapt up and sprinted to the kitchen.

Soon, the smell of frying onions wafted over to the living room.

She smiled.

To read more in this series, click here.

Hello from Puppy Dog - Pack Time

 

Hello Friends!

I don't know why, but both Mama and Dada are at home with me every day now.

It's fantastic!

Mama throws the ball for me in the house, we go on long walks and I can sit at Dada's feet in the office or Mama's feet in the living room!

Mama keeps saying the word "job" and Dada keeps talking about something called "startup funding." I don't know what this all means but I don't care... they are home with me! It's fun!

They have invented a new special time, too!

They both come and sit with me - on my bed or anywhere in the house, really - and then we hug and cuddle and I get scratches and strokes from four Hairless Ape hands! And they are the Hairless Ape hands I love best of all in the world so it's like a double-double bonus!

I love these special moments!

Mama and Dada call it "Pack time."

I love my pack! Dada is the Alpha and Mama is the Beta and I am the Special One!

More Pack Time!

More!

More!

Lots of licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog

Hello from Puppy Dog - Big Ball Lady

Hello Friends!

The other day I was walking with my Dada.  I was running here and there, like I always do, sniffing things, watching for squirrels and marking all the trees and bushes that are mine.

Then we saw a lady walking towards us.

I got very excited because I could see that the lady wanted to play with me.  She was hiding something but I am very clever and I wasn't fooled.  I knew this was going to be a good game!

So I jumped up to tell the lady that we could start the game now!  Let's go!

Dada got cross and pulled me off and said sorry to the lady and dragged me away.

WTF?

When we got home I heard Dada tell Mama something about being so embarrassed and some other silly words like "preg" and "ant."  I don't bother with ants - they are so small - and I don't know what a preg is.

The lady wanted to play with me!  Why else would she be hiding a ball under her T-shirt?  I could see it! 

Dada is so weird sometimes.

Sigh.

Lots of licks and woofs,

Puppy Dog.

Stuff Female People Like - No. 15: BFFs

This series was inspired by stuffwhitepeoplelike.

This post was inspired by Snooty Primadona's post on a new friend.

15.  BFFs

Every Female Person has one - her BFF, or Best Friend Forever.

Some Female People are blessed with more than one but, usually, there is that one special person who occupies a very special place in the Female Person's heart.

BFF's have very special characteristics which single them out from other friends, something that Hollywood has portrayed, again and again:

1. History.   A BFF is usually someone who "knew you when."  Knew you when you were still at school, and therefore knows the geek/cheerleader/choir girl/drama lead you used to be.  Because we all remain what we were as kids, underneath.   Knew you when you were at college/university, and therefore was with you when you discovered sex/feminism/men/politics.  Because we all remain that carefree, barefoot, no-mortgage, budding women were used to be, underneath.  Knew you before you were married.  Because we all remain that dancing/clubbing/single Sex and the City woman we used to be, underneath.  Example: The Banger Sisters.
2. Men.  A BFF knows about all your lovers.  All of them.  BFF knows exactly what you mean when you say "Kinda like Craig's hair, remember?" or "Sort of like when that Hippie guy sang to me, remember?" or "It reminded me of Bruce's dick, remember?"  Example:  Sex and the City.
3. Dreams.  A BFF knows what you planned, wanted, dreamed of for your life and so, when the compromises you've made frustrate you, when the corporate glass ceiling hits you, when Suburbia suffocates you, she understands why.  Because she knows that it was all meant to be so very, very different from this.  Example: Beaches.
4. Sympatico.  Even if a BFF has very different opinions, tastes and politics from you, she gets where you are coming from.  You have talked and shared so much over the years that she can almost read your mind.  No matter how far apart you are or how seldom you see each other, talking to BFF is like riding a bike - you get on and, suddenly, you remember everything you ever learned about how to do it, just like a pro.  Example: Mama Mia.
5. Deep roots.  The relationship with the BFF is so deep-rooted that it stands alone, needing nothing else to support it.  There's no introduction, no explanation, no exposition.  The relationship is not based on a shared hobby, held together by the convenience of daily contact, or forced because your husbands/kids are friends.  It strong, deep-rooted, like an old oak that will not fall because of the strongest wind, and stupid things that hack at the base, trying to fell the tree, simply create notches in the trunk that become a part of it's history.  Example: Sex and the City, again
6. Got your back.  A BFF is on your side - always.  No matter what you've said, what you've done, what you've forgotten to do, a BFF is there to forgive, to listen, to love you, even in spite of yourself.  Example:  Thelma and Louise.

The Female Person values her BFF very highly.  

The BFF was there before, and will be there after, the studies, the job, the husband, the kids play the major role in her life.

The BFF is a touchstone, a shoulder to cry on, a cheerleader, a shrink.

But most of all, the Female Person loves her BFF because she is the one person, the one place, in the world where the Female Person can shrug off the roles of lover, mother, sister, colleague, boss, wife, PTA president, and just be herself.

My BFF and I met at university.  She was in my drama class and seemed to me to be this beautiful butterfly who knew everyone, spoke to anyone, wore crazy gypsy skirts and was a ball of energy and happiness.  When I moved into res (dorms), she was there and took me under her wing, introducing me to her crew.  She was definitely the Alpha of the group and I became her Beta, winning the prize for "most corrupted first year" at our end of year dinner.

We went to lectures barefoot, our biggest treat of the day was chocolate around 4pm and we made a bet with each other to "get with" a guy from each of the male dorms before the end of the year (yes, we succeeded).  

We sang the whole score of the Rocky Horror Picture Show (we still can).

Friday afternoons we'd all bunk off lectures with our friends and find somewhere to head for drinks.  Frequently this would involve taking cheap bottles of wine down to the beach and dancing as the sun set.

In second year we led the hatred of the younger, cuter, first years and got other people to join us swapping everything in their rooms or setting up one of their beds in the middle of the dorm.  Yeah, we didn't like the competition.

We'd go to clubs and dance on the bars, we'd suntan, we'd talk for hours about literature and, of course, boys.

We knew the whole dance to the Locomotion.

As the years passed we both left South Africa.  When we lived a short flight away, visits to each other were always spiced with food and wine and heavily flavored with laughter.  We toured Paris, we walked the streets of London.

We danced and sang our hearts out at a Madonna concert.

Since I moved to the US, we've stayed in touch on the net and over the phone - we've laughed, cried, shared our diet triumphs, our silly stories, our deepest fears, pain and disappointments.

We went on a shopping spree and did a giggling, modelling photo shoot for Fluffy Bear when we got home.

If our husbands adhere to the statistics and die before we do, our plan is to live together and do naughty things like hire male prostitutes, wear inappropriately revealing clothing to the old age home Bingo night, and swear (curse) loudly and frequently.  We are going to be the bad girls of the retirement community.  And those young 70 year old bucks will be lining up to "come in for a coffee" after retro disco night.  We plan to stand at street corners, looking old and frail and, when someone asks us if we need help, look up from under our purple hat brims and yell:

"FUCK OFF!"

Yep, me and my BFF... friends forever.

Quote Unquote - Morning licks

 

Last night Fluffy Bear and I were out with Everywhereventually. his Polar Bear, and Dolly, our dear friend.

We were discussing Puppy Dogand how EE and PB, not able to have pets where they live, were enjoying hanging out with a dog.  Dolly replied that she had nothing against dogs, per se, just that she preferred 23 year old base players who could, like dogs, be trained - to buy, uncork, pour and bring her Chardonnay.

Much hilarity ensued.

You may remember that I told you Dolly is very pretty, and she ain't kidding about hot base players.  Us Old Marrieds need friends like her that we can live vicariously through, now and again.

Anyway... I digress.

EE then told the story of how Puppy Dog kept testing the two doors to the guest room and, finally, found a way inside. 

"And so," he said, rounding off his story, "I started off my day with panting in my face and a big fat wet lick!"

"And so let me return to my preferences for 23 year old base players," laughed Dolly, "because starting your morning that way can be a totally different experience."

Divided by a Common Language - Resistance is futile

 

"Resistance is futile - you will be assimilated."

The Borg, Star Trek

I don't mind taking on elements of the culture of my host country... it's natural that I would.

But we have guests from the UK staying with us this week and, because I am now reminded how Londoners speak, I realize how much my vocabulary has changed.

And so I say:

• "Wah-duh" rather than "War-tuh" (mainly because servers in restaurants don't understand what I want otherwise)
• "Hey" rather than "Hello," or even "Hi"
• "See ya" rather than "Cheers"
• "What's up with you?" rather than "How are you?"
• "I'm sick" rather than "I'm ill"
• "Can we get the check?" rather than "Can we please have the bill?"
• "Good job!" rather than "Well done!"

It's most noticeable when I swear:

• No longer "Bollocks!" but "Asswipe!"
• No longer "Pillock!" but "Dickwad!"
• No longer "Arsehole" but "Asshole"

I wonder if learning how to say "Ass" rather than "Arse" qualifies me for citizenship?

I'm not sure that would have been helpful in my Green Card interview... but you never know...