De-lovely, continued

I re-read my journal entries, considering whether or not I should just transpose all of it on here. I thought better of it when I found myself wondering at the lack of detail in places where there should be detail, and an excess of it where there didn't need to be. Some of the entries read like a telegraph, without the 'stop' :

"Watched 'The Lovely Bones' and ate pasta. Caught 'Spaced' and 'Black Books' on British television and felt cool. We're such losers."

"Bought a few girly accessories at a shop called Accessorize. How could I not? Found a shop called Storm. They sell ladies clothing... took a picture of it."

"We made rum and coke vanilla floats this evening. Fantastic idea."

That last one isn't a telegraph example, I just wanted people to know. We made rum and vanilla coke floats one night. We drank them in wine glasses. We took pictures of them. And they were delicious. I don't even like rum and they were delicious. I also found that I don't mind rum when it's mixed with black currant or raspberry juice. (Seriously. Tasty.) They have this line of juices from Ribena, and it's basically juice, sugar, and water. Strawberry, the aforementioned black currant, raspberry, and I found apple. The one gas station we stopped at had a slew of other flavors but I was taken in by the black currant cause you don't really find it a lot around here.

I bought this sweet mug and coaster set with the Welsh flag on them, and I'm drinking my morning tea from it right now. I just took a sip and went, 'ahh' in that overly satisfied way.

People make fun of me when I extend a pinky when I drink or eat. I don't know why. I mention this because I intentionally did it just now with my tea to be as pompous as possible when wearing what can only be described as 'Flash Dance-esque' and sitting in front of a laptop writing a blog. (I misspelled 'blog' as 'blag' and the spell check has not corrected me. What the fuck is a blag?) This paragraph also reminded me that when we were at dinner one night I was eating a chicken sandwich and drinking a half pint of Guiness (no one told me how delicious it was on draft! what the hell!?) and drowning my chips in salt and vinegar and Jeremy pointed out that despite my hands-only meal I was straight-backed and pinky-outed the whole time. I like to be posh when devouring my meals like a savage.

So, about my tea (and customs). I was all excited cause here we have the Twinings of London tea, but over there it's just called Twinings. And I really wanted to bring back a box. Except we found out that there's all this stuff you have to declare, no matter how miniscule the purchase or acquisition, and you have to keep receipts to prove purchases and it seemed like it was going to be a big fiasco when we went through customs. So we decided we would just pack things away nice and cozy in our checked baggage and just claim about $200 worth of clothing. Then when we thought about it, how would they know what clothes we did and didn't bring with us? So we decided we wouldn't do that and instead just hide everything and claim nothing and pray to god we didn't get selected for a random baggage search. Fortunately we did not, but I do still wonder (aside from the fine that I kept hearing about in the video that played continuously with subtitles in a different language each time while in line at customs, and the possible time spent at a detention facility) what would have happened had they searched our bags.
"I see you have some chocolate in here... You gonna eat that?"
"Interesting. And what were you planning to use this book for?"
"Mam, can you prove these rocks were given to you and that you did not in fact steal them from an ancient monument?"

That last one, I totally cannot prove. Because we did take a few rocks from St. Quentin's Castle, located in the lovely little village of Llanblethian. (I believe I mentioned it previously... normally there would be a link there but it was the post before this so just scroll down. I'm sure you'll find it.)

I don't know if I mentioned this but when we were at St. Quentin's I took a picture of the sign there with all the 'no dogs allowed, please do not litter' jargon on it. Specifically, of the part where it says, in both English and Welsh (like every sign in Wales): It is an offense to use a metal detector on an ancient monument.

No joke.

I'll put the picture up once we transfer the images to my laptop, cause right now they're all shared between Jeremy's laptop and Jeremy's tablet. My dream vacation and all of the photos are on Jeremy owned devices. What the hell?

It's De-lovely

Everyone keeps asking about the honeymoon. I get that we were gone for two weeks and they may actually be interested in how the trip was but I feel that people are asking so that they can tell me what they did while I was gone. And then they're disappointed when I don't ask them how their... normal routine was. Selfish bastards.

Another thing people keep asking is what kind of food we ate. Someone actually asked me if we sampled the local cuisine. ... We went to Wales. It's in the United Kingdom, where they pretty much eat what we eat, with a bit more focus on prawn, leeks, and curry. They actually have prawn cocktail flavored crisps. And their food is labeled differently. Which is something I keep wanting to talk about with people but they never let me get there. So...

Things that are similar but with different names (I'm sure there's a word for this.):

• M&M's - they call them Smarties. They don't seem to have our version of Smarties.
• Lays Potato Chips - Walkers Potato Crisps. And the colors of the bags are different too! The salt and vinegar bag is green. I almost didn't buy them at first glance because I thought they were sour cream and onion. That flavor doesn't seem to exist, instead it's 'aged cheddar and onion.' That's the closest you'll get.
• Milky Way candy bar - it's a Three Musketeers bar. They're Milky Way is called a Mars Bar, which we have here but it's not the same thing.
• T. K. Maxx - T. J. Maxx. That's self-explanatory.

I'm sure there were a few other things too but I can't think of them. I took pictures of the most random shit, so I'm sure there are pictures of the alternate named things. We also found out that peanut butter isn't really popular over there. We stayed in Cowbridge and occasionally ventured into Cardiff, and we couldn't find a single store selling peanut butter. When we went to England, the friends we stayed with claimed to have bought some recently but I wasn't shown a jar so I don't believe it.

The cottage we stayed in was what one would call 'charming.' (It really was too.) It's a converted 17th century stable, aptly named The Old Stables. There were skylights in every room but the master bedroom, there was even one in the shower. Not in the bathroom, but the shower itself. It wasn't very big but I would say it was slightly larger than cozy. Were two people to live together in it for an extended period I don't think they would kill each other. (That's a new measurement of space. Feel free to use it.) One floor, wood floors in the living room and bedrooms (of which there were two) and the original stone slabs in the kitchen and bathroom. We even had a tiny washer in the kitchen. And the kitchen was better stocked than ours, utensil and flatware wise. There were four cutting boards. Who is cutting that much stuff and doesn't have the time to rinse the board off?
Oh, unfortunately I'm mildly allergic to the pillows and comforters we had. I thought they were just generic feather-stuffed, turns out they were legit goose-down. Also turns out I'm legit allergic to that shit. I didn't realize that though until we got back and I had good lighting in the bathroom to see my freaked out face. My sinuses were all wacky, I thought, from the weather and whatnot, so when I would wake up with watery eyes or a scratchy throat I just chalked it up to sinus stuff. But no, I was slowly suffocating every night. I know this not because I went to a doctor when I came home but because I saw the strange red spots around my eyes and jumped to a conclusion, which I'm okay with.
My eyes aren't swollen anymore and the red spots are going away so I'm sure there's no reason to see a medical professional.

We ate at a McDonald's (I know, how exotic) and Jeremy ordered nuggets and asked for honey but they misheard him and gave him curry. They frickin' love curry over there. Everyone thinks they love their fish 'n chips, and they do, but they are also crazy for Indian food. We talked about trying it and I was all for it but Jeremy's not very adventurous when it comes to food so we never did. He says it's because he wasn't blown away by the curry sauce at McDonald's, which is like saying you don't want to try steak because you didn't care for the burgers. The point being that McDonald's is not the standard for you to make good eating decisions by. Maybe we would've loved Indian food. Now we'll never know. (Cause I don't know where there's an Indian restaurant around here.)

We saw a bunch of castles, some of them in ruins but still preserved enough that you can walk around in them without fear of slipping and dying. One of them we actually walked to from our cottage. Not that it was just down the street but it was close enough, and we walked like crazy over there. We surmised that we walked more in the two weeks we were there than in two months here. Even when we went into Cardiff, we parked in a garage and spent the day in town. It's so hard to find parking, or just to maneuver a car there in general, it's easier just to either park in a garage, or take public transport. We did the first because we rented a car, but if we had known before what we know now we would just rely on buses and taxis. It didn't help that Jeremy was the only one who could drive (it would've been super expensive to add me because I'm just a young 'in.) so we had to rent a standard sized car, which doesn't seem that bad but when you put it in the perspective that the majority of roads are designed for Mini Coopers or similar we had a huge car. And I don't think the people of Wales were very pleased with our large, clearly American car taking up their road. But I wasn't very pleased with their super tiny roads and super aggressive driving habits.

Back to the castles though, these things are just... wherever. It's like instead of clearing space they just build around existing objects, which would certainly explain the roads. Cardiff Castle is literally right in the middle of downtown Cardiff. We were walking on a street and on one side is a grocery store, a Burger King (do not eat at the Burger King near Morgan Arcade. It's filthy and the meat tastes weird.) and then all of a sudden a castle. Well, a castle wall. Jeremy asked if it was a castle and I was like, ' Jeremy I'm sure there isn't a castle just in the middle of town.'
Turns out there is. It's on Castle Street, or Avenue, whichever it's still a castle just hanging out downtown. And nobody really seemed to notice it. It was a little disheartening. I mean, I know these people live there and they see it everyday, but still the way they just walked on by like it wasn't an important construct or relevant to their present state of life was a little bit like a slap in the face. I saw these things and I wanted to tell people about them but everyone who wasn't clearly a tourist with a camera and a European man bag (we saw quite a few of those) had this attitude that made me feel like I was inferior to them for finding something incredible.
Pompous Welsh. Your land was founded on coal, you're not better than me!

That's all I've got for now, but obviously a bunch of other stuff happened. I knew I should've kept writing while we were away. I kept a paper journal, why didn't I just keep a digital one?

Leaving on a jet plane...

Typing as we drive to New York to fly to London to drive to Wales. Well, dad's driving and we're hanging out all cramped and whatnot in the backseat. I'm both super excited and super nervous. I've never been out of the continent before, and I've only flown twice in my life; and the one time it was a helicopter and I was a tiny tiny child. I'm not nervous about flying, just nervous about being in two different airports and having no idea where I'm going. I hate not knowing exactly what I'm doing or where I'm going. We both got international permits so Jeremy doesn't have to drive the whole time but it costs extra to add me as a driver so we were thinkinh of just not. Don't tell the British transit authority that.

Alright I'm leaving it at that for now. We got a new camera so we'll take lots of photos and if I'm feeling interested I might keep updates and post some pictures. Or I might not and just enjoy my honeymoon. (Wedding post will go up though, it's necessary.)

Jeremy and the Passport Office

So the passport processing has changed venues, and by that I mean they've moved from their own little cubby in the Annex Building to the Title and Plates cubby just across the hall. And their are no other indications once you get in the title room about what to do. So we took a number. And then about ten minutes late whilst waiting for our number to be called, this little Asian lady walked in and right up to the counter and asked to fill out a passport application. And they just took her into the little room to fill one out. I was upset. So I went up and asked about a passport and the lady told me to take a number, which booyah! we already had. Apparently that little Asian broad is above the rules and the number system. La-dee-dah.

So when Jeremy's number was finally called there was a discussion amongst the other three people who were also applying for passports and needed applications. Because they changed the application since last year so everyone who had the old one all filled out, two of the three people, had to fill out a new one. (I also had to do this when I applied for mine last month.)

Anyway while Jeremy was in there doing his application thing I hung out and talked with the husband of the Puerto Rican woman who had to get a new birth certificate because some database had been hacked in Puerto Rico and the US wouldn't accept hers anymore. They were going on a cruise in the Caribbean. His family is from Wales, Germany and Scotland, much like mine. And then of course the incredibly adorable and sweet old man sitting next to me whose grandfather was from Wales. I wanted to talk to him more but Jeremy came out cause he was done.

When I told him about the people he said the passport bureau (is that a thing? I don't know) was going to think there was a coup happening between Ohio and Wales. And also, the passport ladies were baffled by his birth certificate, which is from Connecticut, because they had never seen one and there was so much information on it.

And then we came home cause he has to go to work soon.

The end.

Well, until we get the passports.

Wedding Nonsense

I may have discovered the depths of my laziness the other day while my dad and I were discussing wedding plans. My parents have a big backyard and I'm basically a hippie so I thought 'let's get married at my parents house!' which Jeremy agreed to pretty much because it meant we wouldn't have to look at other venues.

Now before I go further my dad offered us a very large sum of money for our wedding, towards our honeymoon, as a down payment on a house, however we wanted to use it basically. Which was wonderful cause we're both pretty poor. (And not in that 'happy but poor' way, just poor and and putting up with each other.)

So we decided to it would be great if we kinda just let the wedding thing fall to the side, I mean get married but not really do a ceremony or anything, and just have a fucking sweet honeymoon. (So we're going to Wales in July.) But then the more we talked about marriage related things the more input we had from family and the more guilt they made us feel for not wanting to do anything.

I'm sorry, mom and dad, if I'm against paying for seating, food, drinks, and having to call hotels to set aside rooms for relatives that I haven't seen in literally over a decade or more and especially relatives that I've never even met.

To make matters more irritating, I never thought about my wedding when I was kid. My barbies never had ceremonies, my friends and I never played dress-up and one of us was the bride or groom or whatever, I just never considered it. Marriage was never a moment in my life that I imagined. Family and commitment was always very important to me (and it still is) but I didn't see why I had to change to my last name. (And that issue is for another post.)

So planning a wedding was a huge, annoying, irritating, aggravating, issue for me. And of course Jeremy was no help. Which is bullshit cause he's the one who proposed. He should have some GD input!

Fortunately the whole problem may have been solved this past weekend while at my parents house talking with my dad. He said after the very large sum of money he gives us, he's not doing anything else. He'll show up, well-dressed and not at all resembling an individual who just came down from the mountains concealing a jug of moonshine somewhere about his person, and he'll walk me down the aisle, dance with me, etc. but other than that he's done.

I said, 'dad, what on earth does that mean?'

To which he replied, with the answer to all of my wedding problems, 'I'm not cleaning out the yard, or setting up any tables, or finding room for people to park. I'm not doing any of that.'

And I went, 'Oh. Okay.'

I don't want to do that either. So I think we'll just go downtown to the courthouse and send our families wedding announcements instead of invitations. I am way to lazy to do all that stuff. I have better things to do.

Which probably makes me a horrible person, but Jeremy also said he doesn't want to do any of that. So two horrible people are marrying each other. You're welcome, world.