stating the obvious *snort*

hmmpf... yup, i totally agree with you, kitteh. but if you're, like, just discovering that obviousity, i'd assume you hadn't been paying attention. i mean, i'm easy to please: i demand nothing but everyone's total focus and if i don't geddit, my temper tantrums rival a real 2-year old's so consider yourself warned: my journal, such as it is, will prove beyond any reasonable doubt how fucked up i am (as if anyone needed proof) but no one's gonna see the real deal until after i'm gone. *evil* heh.

anyway, this from the Department of Nagging Reminders: last time i promised sump'n about Christine's experience with an American HS or (worse yet) Uni student. she's the niece of one of Christine's neighbours and after hearing her accent, actually asked, 'IS ENGLAND A COUNTRY?' i can't get hold of the original mail (which, when it came, caused mucho mirth over here, 'mirth' of the ROTFLMAO kind) but, um... here's a PSA:

ENGLAND IS A COUNTRY, ACTUALLY (you can quote me on that).

y'all can see England here: it's between 'Inbreeding' and 'Lazy Fucks'. anyway, had i taxed my brain a bit more and not done so mucha that goddamned coke this woulda been an intristin' lead-in to the damn event i've been waiting for since my own personal Independence Day: 4, July 2009. and so on 6, November*, both TPFKAPM and i took our Life in the UK Citizenship tests, passed and found ourselves at the UK Border Control office in East Croydon last monday, 29. long story short (consider yerselves lucky): we got what we came for: Indefinite Leave To Remain. *beaming*

*fun-fact: ten years ago — 6, November 2000 — was not only the day before Gore v. bu$hCo, it's the date of the first Alabama 3 gig we were ever, at NYC's Bowery Ballroom. it also commemorates the last time i got carded — EVar. :-( after the gig, we went backstage and Jake took us on the tourbus to the Afterparty at whatever 2nd Avenue pub. i was pleased to see these Brits — my then fave band — truly interested in US pols. i'll never forget us all laughing our asses off at the rethugs' moronacy for nominating a loser like jr. ha.

a week and a day later, we flew out to SF to catch em at Slim's (happily surprising Jake et al.) and pols weren't mentioned the entire time we were with em. }-( anyway.


whoa... sharp U-ey offa Memory Lane and back to my mindless drivel ANYthing to prevent me from plunging further into despair thanks to reading pols or thinking too deeply. *cough* above pic was the other day at almost 15,00/3PM, showing how dark it gets here early in Winter (sump'n i actually dig). i was on my tiptoes, tryna get a grip on the vasty scope that particular stopping place can afford anyone with a proper camera. i mean, from that vantage point, one can see allllll across that bit-a Bristol and if you're there when the sun's setting, it's lovely to stare into the centre of that hugeass fireball and just about feel your retinas burning and shit. optic nerves? those. *no idea what i'm on about. what else is new?* :-)


fast forward three, four days later and it snowed (i was standing in just about the same place as i was two photos above), not for the first time this year, but the earliest i've seen snow in the 6,5 years i've lived here. anyhoo, next up's my mail to this dude i tell whatever shit to and, for whatever as-yet unknown reason, with whom i seem to be competing in situations demanding physical prowess of a kind):

'i was just running back from the post office in the snow and i slipped and fell on my ass, then slid down the hill (from like Regent Street/the top of Constitution Hill to the top of Lower Clifton Hill). y'know, i didn't slide round the corner, just to where it turns off. gah, what humiliation... hmmpf.

'then this dude stopped, got outta his car, came over and ended up driving me back here. i didn't see him at first; i was so surprised i just sat there in the middle of the road looking at the snowflakes and wondering if they'd stick (they were about half an hour ago, dunno about now). it didn't occur that there were cars coming or anything. *dribble dribble* ;-)

'my ass hurts, dammit. also, i'd complain moar better but my ass isn't wet anymore just cold'.


OK, compare and contrast time. wait — didn't you just hate whenever you heard teachers say that shit? every time i heard it, my heart sank (further), unsafe in the knowledge they'd pick on me for whatever answer (only cause i'd made the mistake of telling em i loved to read and write). so what say you? ja? nah? well, y'all know where i'm coming from: i hated that compare 'n' contrast shit (and once i became a teacher, i realised it was the teachers' lazy way outta whatever situ). anyway, here's The Birdcage Walk now, in the glory of the quickly deadening year.


*sigh* yes, i know... oh, how i know.


in other news, the week after Techie-boy stayed over, cooked for me, took the test and took off, i was way pleased to have another houseguest, this time from Holland. hey, Dave! *waves* no shit, really; i actually had yet another virtual stranger as my weekend guest here and just as i knew we would (with absolutely no basis in reality apart from past experience), we hit it off as if we'd known each other for ages.

Dave's one of the few strangers who actually had the balls to write me first, thanks to FreeA3, and then here (secondary address on profile page). after initial contact, we spent all of two seconds getting to know each other before i sussed out exactly what, if any, his extralegal limits were and he totally passed and got his invited ass over here and a very fine ass it is. :-)

*cough* 'don't try this at home, kids!' *snigger* not for the weakminded, shy, paranoid or anyone harbouring even a modicum of personal safety.

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