but wait. that was only a few hours ago. and i've been naughty. it only took me one day to crap out on my fancy new blog. lucky for you 2 busy days = plenty to share. so let's rewind.
yesterday was my first real day here and elizabeth allowed me to sleep until 11:30am. i am ashamed. but i needed it? i was up until 2:30 england time writing to you kids, too amped up on airplane drinks and blog fever to sleep. liz's mom bought us sandwiches (veggie because she respects my decision to care for the earth's creatures) and we powered through them and approximately 11,000 grapes in the 22 degree weather. yes. that's right. you heard me, 22 degrees. Celsius. because that's how we roll here. (22 Celsius is about 75 degrees Fahrenheit. crazy warm for England.)
during the day I got to see the lovely little town that is Cobham, where Liz lives, and then we went to Shere. apparently this is where the movie "The Holiday" was filmed but since I neither appreciate nor support the careers of Jack Black or Cameron Diaz, and even sometimes speak blasphemously of Jude Law, I refused to let their associations with the town spoil my day.
This is honestly one of the cutest towns you've ever seen. Every house and shop looks like a gingerbread house, only the kind that's too adorable to eat.
not only is this a magical town but it's also home to a creek and lots of fields, so we went for a walk where I met lambs and horses and stinging nettles, and got to see beautiful flowers and creepy trees! we went on a lovely little nature walk before cooling off at The Lucky Duck.
There are some things you should know before you ever enter The Lucky Duck. for starters, be aware that some people are extremely comfortable with overemphasizing their shop's theme. In this instance, it is guaranteed that you will be suffocated by all things duck-like including but not limited to: ducks on wallpaper, paintings of ducks, paintings of ducks on the wall, miscellaneous wall duck fixtures, duck menu images, stuffed ducks (let your mind imagine what I mean here), carved wooden ducks, paper mache ducks, ceiling hangings of ducks, and duck references in the shop's sign-age. Sounds adorable? not adorable. way too much. also Elizabeth asked the waitress for a "refreshing tea" to which she given the response "ehhhh......wuhh?" she had no clue what we meant. so we (I) wisely chose orange and we skidaddled before I could consume any of the pound cake.
being in such an adorable place really tuckered us out so we enjoyed a little break with the "tele" (t.v.) which included Modern Family and some Glee that I missed. MF is the bomb. Glee is actually kind of ridiculous, but I'll watch it until a crucial character leaves the show, their counterpart falls to pieces, someone gets cancer, another person dies, and seven new characters are introduced. hate you too, Grey's Anatomy.
after I accidentally fell asleep for half an hour liz woke me up and we went to The Mare, her favorite pub in town where she confidently proclaimed that she would "either know everyone at this bar or no one." cocky lady. She knew everyone. liked few. the kids there were in a grade below her and she hadn't kept in touch with any of them. One conversation went a little something like this: "Oh, hey, Liz." "HEYYY!! how are you!?" "Pretty good, and you?" "GOOD! good. When did you get back!?!?" "Uh... I never left..." (Silence.) coooooooooooooooool.
then 2 of her friends from hs rolled up and we became best friends and the night ended in literal darkness when the bar turned off the electricity and we were unceremoniously removed.
Today we went to Brighton Beach on the coast. "Beach" is deceiving. True, we were on the edge of a body of water, but I sat on a rock the size of my miniature schnauzer and whenever you breathed all the disgustingly dirty rocks made crinkle sounds. ew. thank god for hand sanitizer. on your legs. it was actually a good time though. it was like 78 degrees and everyone (who didn't have work/school--aka hoodrats) was on the beach (rockbed)--I can make your bed rock?
There were 2 piers, one of which burned down 50 years ago and was rusting in the water, and another which we walked on. We got a "box of chips" also known as french fries and a large (which means small anywhere except obesity capital America). there were ice cream shops ever 6 steps (until we decided we wanted ice cream and then there were none) and lots of arcade games. looked a lot like an east coach beach towns only with attractive British people instead of inbred townies. after getting lost in the parking lot for 30 minutes we headed back to Cobham. i fell asleep DJ-ing my iPod. not cool.
you might be saying: woah, Chels! what a day. you drove an hour and half each way to a crazy fun beach, laid in the sunshine, stuffed your face with french fries, and took a snooze to fleetwood mac! busy busy bee. but wait. there's more.
tonight i made my first venture into London. Elizabeth's "mum" sings in the London Symphony Choir, and we went to watch their rehearsal. there are no words for how amazing these 80ish men and women sound. they blew me away. i was tearing up in the back of the church, clutching their sheet music in my hand. any opportunity you have to see these people perform would be time well spent. DO it.
liz and i bopped over to an italian restaurant for some zza and balls of dough known formally as "dough balls". one small taste of an entire clove of garlic posing itself as "garlic butter" and 4 glasses of wine later, liz and I were quite chatty and I quickly learned that the word "fanny" is not, in fact, a cute Disneyish way of referring to your butt, but actually, in England, means "the C word" and to never use it, ever. It's rated R and not good for dinner conversation. i probably shouldn't even have repeated this story the word is so "nosty."
we split up with her mum after dinner and went over to Southbank where we got drinks at a restaurant called Giraffe. there was no obvious reason why the restaurant was named such. the only outward giraffe expressions were the amateur giraffe drawings on the backs of the waiter's t-shirts. i'm just grateful the owners weren't as enthusiastic as our friends back at The Lucky Duck.
I fell in love for the 47th recorded time since I landed in England 48 hours ago. this time it happened with the Giraffe waiter with the Mohawk. not your standard Mohawk either. one that allows the shorter part of one's hair to grow to the length of the average male's and the long part to extend one foot into the air, held up by gel. or glue. or whatever schmexy mohawked boys use here. doesn't matter.
around 11:15 we got the train back into the 'burbs and sadly i left without Giraffe-boy. I can only hope there will be more...
until tomorrow. or the next day.
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