Bloody Brilliant!

there's absolutely no escape

My first day in Sydney, walking along Darling Harbor, enjyoing the gorgeous weather, and this is what I see:

Wow.  Interest in the American presidential race reaches all ends of the earth.

skin cancer? bah, get me some sun.

I am waiting in Heathrow for my flight to Australia to depart. I've never been to the land down under, and I didn't think I'd ever really get there.  It's just so damn far (or, as Peter likes to say, it's at the ass end of the world).

Needless to say, I am really looking forward to it.  The flight, not so much - but thanks to the magic of frequent flyer miles, I'm going comfortably.  My Aussie friends have given me such great direction about where to go and what to do, but the only thing I can think of is getting some sun on this disgustingly white body.  I have never had so many people tell me I look tired than have done so in the past month, all because I have skin the color of grout.

First stop: Sydney.... 

it's called o-r-t-h-o-d-o-n-t-i-a

It's true. 

It's really, honestly, unfortunately true.  Brits have crappy teeth.  There, I've said it!

Blame the BBC for bringing it up.  They published a whiny article yesterday that decried 'perfect, American teeth' and defended the character of British ones. Before you yell at me for my particular point of view, let me make two things clear:

1. there are some Brits who have beautiful teeth [my stepson, for one]
2. there are many Americans who look ridiculous with their horrendously fake set of Chiclet chompers.

One of the very first things I realized when I moved here was that people here really do have bad teeth - not just charming little crooked teeth, but all out overlaps, holes, you name it, and I honestly don't know why.  Everyone gets regular checkups, kids get braces - although not nearly as much as they do in the US, for whatever that's worth - so I'm really clueless as to why.  Do enlighten me.

someone definitely lost their job on THIS one

Every day I read two free newspapers on my way home from work.  They are printed in the afternoon and handed out to all Londoners who look like they are in a hurry to get somewhere [also known as commuters].  While the papers cover basically the same things, they are very entertaining reads. 

Highbrow they are not, but damn if I don't always find at least one juicy nugget.  This is from a column in the London Lite called timewaster - what to browse when the boss isn't looking.  This columnist finds the strangest sites and features three of them each day, including this winner:

What is the title of this magazine again??  Isn't that the thing that got these women knocked up in the first place?

Stay tuned for more URL fun from Ursula Hirschorn, the columnist from whom I am shamelessly plagiarizing. 

all i need is a shower, bed and trendy hotel bar...

I saw this article in The New York Times and had to laugh, partly because I think the term 'glamping' is so apt, but mainly because this is the only way I'd ever consider camping.  And let's face it, it's pretty stupid - there are PLENTY of Four Seasons and Ritz Carltons located in quasi-remote areas, why not just stay there??  I would.  In a heartbeat.  [Peter, are you listening???]

 

Camping? Yes. Roughing It? Not Quite.

IF the eco-friendly idea of falling asleep under the stars and roasting marshmallows around a campfire appeals to you, but the reality of pitching a tent and sleeping on bumpy ground does not, glamping, the new term being used for upscale — or glamorous — camping, could be your ideal green vacation.

Though dismissed by hard-core leave-no-trace campers (who don’t so much as move a rock for fear of affecting the area), glamping can still be an environmentally sound outdoor experience, even if it does include creature comforts (like not having too many creatures inside your tent). And though it is a relatively new trend in the United States and Europe, with its origins harking back to Africa and even Thailand, glamping sites are starting to pop up everywhere, with prepitched tents, tepees and yurts rising out of the landscape like sailboats on an ocean.

More...

that time of year again

It's the third September 11th since I've been out of the US, and each 'anniversary' makes me feel homesick.  It's when I feel the furthest away from New York, and I can't believe it's already been 7 years.  And then I feel a bit disgusted that it's taken 7 years to start any meaningful rebuild of the site.  It's about time.