rebness: (YS: O hay)
 So the last major bout of American awesomeness before I head home kicks off good style tomorrow: the 4th of July. 

I am excited and don't care how much ribbing I'll get about it (guy selling fireworks giving me a sombre 'God bless America' when learning of my nationality for one) or how different it is, it's going to be great! [ profile] wickedmanifesto has bought a load of fireworks (alas, not rockets - illegal in this city/state - [ profile] annemariewrites can correct me on this one) and, you know, I love an excuse for a barbecue and alcohol, so it's all good. 

Unfortunately, my timing is absurd and I have to leave for my flight at 6am the next morning. Argh! As I am also spectacularly bad at planning, I managed to book my trip down to London to go to the Japanese embassy the same day that I arrive, so it'll be a jet-lagged dash down there hours after the plane lands. 

It'll then be Stratford-upon-Avon with top marra [info]saffronlie  for a couple of days before I'll be back home and full of tales of all those states and people and rad times. Huzzah! :D 
rebness: (Esmeralda and Djali)
I am waiting and hoping on so much right now that I can scarcely concentrate on anything else, hence the lack of posting. But anyway, for now...

BON VOYAGE to [personal profile] saffronlie , on her return to Australia. I really, really hope you have enjoyed Blighty and I can't wait to see you posting again, chica. <3

O hay, reading:

The Post-Birthday World by Lionel Shriver
Oh, Lionel. Kevin was such a great book; one of my very favourites of this year. So you follow it up with a book about snooker? (Do Americans really pronounce it snucka?) People, this is as boring as it sounds. The protagonist, Irina, either falls for a Cockney snooker player that uses Northern terminology ('pet', anyone?), or stays with some guy who works for a Think Tank. It's Sliding Doors without the Aqua soundtrack. It is boring. The end.

The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
Oh, wow. Vendettas and escapades and mysticism and people fainting, turning pale and trembling at the turn of every page. I loved this novel, despite all its cliches and silliness, despite its dubious science on poison. I've taken two weeks to finish this and I'm really sad it's over. It was awesome. I just love the melodrama of the old French and English canon. I'm watching the film version now (the one with Guy Pearce.) It's crap.

Anyway, back to waiting and hoping and trembling, perhaps turning pale and fainting... :p
rebness: (Default)
This is a gamble, because [ profile] airiddh1 and [ profile] ladydaydream are likely to smack me for debasing the original, but this is making me so happy right now, on repeat for the fifth time. Ahahhaa!

Whee! :D After insect drama too traumatic to go into and annoying busy crap all this week, catching up with friends and family and having songs on repeat and cooking (when not screaming in terror at insects) is pretty fun.
rebness: (Default)

Bleurgh. I chose Thursday night as birthday!celebration night, because Thursdays in the city are fecking great. I changed into something a bit more funky at work, grateful that Sally had let them know that money comes in useful to a girl saving for a trip to America rather than the ubiquitous bottles of wine or whatever. Spent American money on getting a taxi instead of the soul-draining bus, and now feel guilty. Oops.

Had a drink in Prohibition before making our way to Sapporo Teppanyaki, the expensive Japanese restaurant I've been thinking about visiting for like two years now. They do "theatrical cooking" there, throwing bowls of rice into the air, flipping them and never spilling a grain or the rather worrying spinning of a knife on the chef's finger rather too close to our faces. The food was amazing -- the miso soup had the most tender tofu, the sushi was fresh and served with eye-wateringly strong wasabi, and the teppanyaki was gorgeous. It was an expensive meal, but absolutely worth it.

We got talking to a couple of engineers next to us who are going to travel through Japan this year. They insisted that we should seize the day and get out there. It was so gratifying to talk to such motivated, intelligent people and to discuss our own dreams and aspirations with them. There's a lot to be said for that style of dining rather than the tables spaced rigidly apart, each person inhabiting their own private bubble.

Then there was Brokeback Mountain er. It was good, I suppose. It didn't grab me as I thought it would, though Chris and I enjoyed doing stilted Heath Ledger impressions en route to the club afterwards. Also, the guy next to me at the cinema seemed to have a hairball in his throat the entire time. I tried to give him "evils", but it's hard to accomplish much in the dark of a cinema.

It was onto Alma de Cuba after that, then to the Krazyhouse. I could only stand dancing to the Kaiser Chiefs and Sugababes for so long before a taxi was required and in a blur of motion I was in a taxi then home then in bed, waking up at 4am thinking the dog was dead because it wasn't moving. Then I realised it was asleep, and relaxed, waking up about half an hour ago with the hangover from hell (why am I shaking?) and feeling very, very pleased with myself for booking today off work, as well as ensuring I won't turn 25 on Saturday feeling like death. Ahahaha.

Also, I suspect one of you sent me a package, but it couldn't fit through the door so now I'm on amber alert for the postman. The alsatian is standing sentry and I've had to change out of my pyjamas to my assault gear -- jeans, shirt and a big warm cardigan. *waitwaitwait*

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rebness: (And Then)

I don't know if it's some egocentric reaction to turning 25 in 12 days, 23 hours and 52 minutes' time (why, yes, I am counting down every last minute of my youth) but I determined to pass the weekend in a hedonistic whirl. I met up with some friends who were leaving my old job for a couple of drinks last night. That time passed by quickly, with lots of chat and, annoyingly, being chatted up when trying to get my round in. I had also promised to go round to my friend Sally's house for the night ("We've got wine in for you especially!") and had a great girly night in which resulted in me staying over in the spare room, with extra blankets because, Sally pointed out, they don't have central heating yet. I bemoaned the lack of my warm and cuddly border collie, but had a great sleep. Woke up to find that I had escaped a hangover, but to learn that my friend had recorded me dancing drunkenly to Karma Chameleon on her mobile 'phone. There goes my aloof and professional exterior at work, then.

In the ultimate twist of annoying irony, I returned home in the afternoon to find that the central heating has had to be switched off for fear of a leak and it won't be fixed till Monday. Winter nights in an old cottage without central heating is not fun. I can't even let the dog in my room -- she's on heat and is acting all crazy, like. Border collies on heat are nothing short of scary.

To escape Colditz, I met up with Chris later on to go rock-climbing. Now, I'm pathetically girly in that exertion, sweat and anything that results in broken nails but doesn't result in me shouting out in ecstasy really, really doesn't do it for me. I tried to get out of it, then moaned before it and at the beginning, before reaching up with a trembling hand at the top of one of the walls to rattle a chain to prove I had mastered a climb. My arms are still aching, but wow, it was a good workout, fun and more productive than sitting around in my pyjamas watching television. I broke a nail, and I didn't shed any tears or shout. Progress! I think Chris has converted me.

Then we trekked to three different cinemas to watch Memoirs of a Geisha. Two weren't showing it, and the last run for the night had started in the third cinema. We went to a Vietnamese restaurant instead and determined to see the film tomorrow. Excellent activity!weekend, though coming back to LJ to see that people are taking up pitchforks against Frank the goat for the alarmingly insulting new nudge feature gives me a sense of relief. Oh, internets. Never change.
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