Vol, I hope you don’t mind my using this beautiful picture you took that shows the fog that we have been having.
I’m really glad that we decided to stay in the UK this year because of all of the fog. . .
This may sould slightly nutty, but in the morning I’ve found myself wishing I had a longer walk to the tube. It’s all crisp (3 C/ 37F) and misty.
Sitting down to wrap our Christmas presents, I scanned our DVDs to come up with the perfect film to have in the background.
I do best if the background film is one that I know rather well, but it needs to be a little while since I’ve seen it so I can maintain a small amount of engagement with it while I endeavor to complete the mind numbing task that is wrapping 15 presents of varying sizes.
I grab High Fidelity.
I selected High Fidelity — which I think was an apropos choice for a few reasons, one of which is that John Cusack has been in my top five celebrity crushes since I was fourteen.
Nicole’s Top Five Celebrity Crushes
1. John Cusack - The boy gets my heart all aflutter. The Sure Thing, Better Off Dead, The Journey of Natty Gann, Say Anything, Fat Man and Little Boy, Eight Men Out, The Grifters, Bullets Over Broadway (“Don’t speak!â€), Being John Malcovich. . . I can go on. (I choose to ignore certain big ‘what were you thinking’ flicks like Must Love Dogs.) He’s dreamy. And smart. And liberal.
2. Harrison Ford circa 1977- 1990- Even at seven I was more interested in Han Solo than Luke Skywalker. I guess most little girls are. I suppose it is slightly creepy that he is older than my father but I choose to ignore that. I’ve heard that he is a huge pothead and he is too craggy for my taste now given that he is pushing 70 (!!!) but he has to be on the list.
3. George Clooney. Sigh. Another big liberal. My boyfriend George. I know other women say that he is their boyfriend but he really is mine. Other than during that brief mid 80’s puffy mullet thing he had on The Facts of Life. That George I don’t like so much.
4. William Holden. Ah, Bill Holden. I choose to ignore the fact that he was best man at Ronald Regan’s wedding and all that that entails. I even love him in Network when he’s old. Sad though . . . I just figured out the math and he was only sixty or so in that film. Classic example of the booze aging you. It killed him eventually. He fell when he was drinking.
5. Bill Murray. Okay. I know this might be a weird choice. Started after Groundhog Day. He’s just really groovy. Smart, funny. ‘Nuff said.
Ravleen was racking her brain to come up with a female duo to dress up as with her friend at a Christmas Fancy Dress Party that she is going to this week. (Will someone please tell me why the English immediately have hives if you suggest that they dress up for Halloween but have no problems dressing up during the rest of the year?)
I suggested Ginger and Mary Ann.
“Who’s that?â€
“You know. From Gilligan’s Island. . . You don’t know Gilligan’s Island??â€
“No. . .â€
“I feel a mixture of really old and really American.â€
Is it possible that the average English male is not aware of the ultimate guy test? The ‘Who would you rather schtup, Ginger or Mary Ann’ test?
Please tell me I’m wrong.
People that reheat left over salmon for their lunch at work should be beaten with a stick.
I’ve come to the conclusion that people ought to not consult horoscopes when considering compatibility with other people. (Which is bunk anyway.) No, it ought to be about the key things that you like. . . Dog people should stay with dog people, Pepsi people should stay with Pepsi people and people who don’t like gifts should be with people who don’t like to give gifts. Not to say that it doesn’t or can’t work. It is possible that someone who loves Noam Chomsky will get along with a follower of George Will. . . it just is a bit of a harder road.
For example, one of my favourite movies is The Iron Giant and I have theory that people that don’t like it, don’t have a soul. You know, no pressure or anything. I made Stuart watch it and he lied and told me he liked it. I might not be living in London if he had told me the truth.
This of course extends out to music. If someone hates your favourite artist, you know that they are evil. Stuart has long mocked my iPod and my varied taste. . . I have fado, blues, jazz, rock, classical, rockabilly. . . Whenever we are out and there is some world music playing, he asks me if it is on my iPod.
Often it is.
When we were in the Istanbul airport last spring, a Noir Désir song (they’re a French Rock Band) was playing over the speakers.
“Thomas? Is this on your iPod?â€
“Yes, Stuart.â€
“God help us if your iPod is the only remnant that archaeologists have for what people listened to.â€
I signed up on Last FM a month or so ago. I’ve known about it for a while, but didn’t bother until Richard invited me. Stuart just discovered the wonders of it and insisted that I make him a friend.
He told me that he is monitoring what I am listening to.
>Sigh<
Personally, I really don’t care what he says. I think my ability to think outside the musical box is to my credit. As good as they are, (and I love them) but I’m sorry, I don’t think man can live on The Beatles, The Stones and Led Zeppelin alone.
Anyway, if you would also like to see what I have been listening to, check out the sidebar.
In my main defence against Stuart’s constant dismissal of my música is Robby Williams. I have never and I will never get Robby Williams –unlike some people that I could name.
So Take That.
Last year was my first Christmas in the UK but for some reason this year is feeling more like my first Christmas here. Maybe because it feels more like home. . . not sure.
Last year I was really broke so I didn’t do any Christmas shopping. We did have a tree but I already had the ornaments so there was no need for me to buy anything. (We aren’t having a tree this year. Stuart wanted a fake. Jen wanted real. I didn’t care. . . although I preferred a real one– I just didn’t want to have to do all of the decorating by myself like I did last year. And since I haven’t made a tree happen . . . there is no tree. I’m not that fussed. I decided to decorate my desk at work instead since I live there anyway.)
I’ve been struck by how when you buy something, the person checking you out doesn’t say Merry or Happy Christmas. In America, it would be a common thing to say. . . I’ve had to control myself to not churp Holiday Greetings in my flat little accent. I assuming (hoping) it will be more acceptable in the next few days.
I’ve also had problems finding boxes of Christmas cards. I have seen a few, but my taste in Christmas cards runs to the absurd/esoteric/offensive/blasphemous. My favorite card from recent years is this:
If your taste in cards also runs toward the absurd/esoteric/offensive/blasphemous you can satisfy your need here..
Not that I am going to be mailing out my holiday cards now. Oh, no! We aren’t that organised. Each year I intend on sending out cards, but I never seem to manage it. Luckily since I never send out cards, but love to buy them, I have a few boxes so I will stick them on my collegues desks this week.
My plan is to have a candy cane along with the card, but I haven’t been able to find them yet in The Sainsbury’s or The Boots that I went into. Do they not do candy canes here?
Fire Escape
Originally uploaded by treefrog girl.
Janelle was telling me about her apartment in New York and that it has a fire escape which reminded me of this photo I took in late January 2005 from the hallway of my apartment in LA.
It doesn’t look it but it was a little chilly that day. Maybe 13 degrees. . . (55F) 
There is a new trailer of Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix here.
I love the image of them flying past Parliament.
I can hardly wait. . .
Perhaps I will re-read one of the books today.
The best part about Stuart being away is I get to have the whole bed to myself.
The worst part about Stuart being away is having the whole bed to myself.
Any donated funds are not tax deductable and will most likely be used to purchase something that is very bad for her.
Design by Eliza of Weblog Design Studios
All words © Nicole Thomas unless otherwise credited.
Not that I think that anyone would be silly enough to steal my ramblings, but in case you may be thinking about it. . . the very act of my writing this means that I own the copyright. Really. Look it up.
So, please don't plagiarize. It just ain't cool. And what I say just isn't that interesting. Trust me. Most of my friends don't even read this.
That being said, I do subscribe to the T.S. Eliot philosophy of "Immature poets borrow, mature poets steal." There is a difference between Stealing and stealing. . . This is not to say that I am mature. If anything. . . I'm rambling aren't I? That's what I do. I ramble. So, yeah. I'll shut up now.
Powered by Wordpress
