bueller....bueller....

so upon waking this morning, i was confronted with a choice.

1. go to the sweltering office where i would sit and endlessly google afghanistan issues. work on my article on security issues and play around of facebook all day, missing the most beautiful day we've had in london since we've been here.

2. don't

i chose 2. i spent the morning with claire, annie and lisa finding our way across london bridge and looking at the (expensive) tower of london from afar. after our endeavors on the other side of the river, the racine ladies had a lunch date with claire's boss, and i decided i should probably go home to get some pre-italy work done. after all, it was only 12:30, and i could still get a lot accomplished.

i got on the tube with every intention of going home to get my work done. but then, that little voice came over the loudspeaker "this is mansion house, alight here for tate modern and millennium bridge" so i alighted.

i walked down a winding path that took me to the banks of the thames and crossed millennium bridge toward tate modern. i had lunch in the tate cafe and spent a few hours getting too close to art that makes me think about perceptions of the world. literally, i got too close, i almost got kicked out for being so close to the art. i sprawled out in a circle of birch trees on the lawn outside the museum and basked in the sun. sitting on the steps at bankside, eating my raspberry sorbet, i remembered why i came here and just how wonderful and amazing it is that i am actually in london. my days have been dictated by work and visitors and it was nice to take a day and remember just why i worked so hard to come here. it was a day for myself on a trip i've taken so i can figure out where i fit in this great big world and how it feels to get along without my safety net.

after my adventure, i met kevin at the princess louise for drinks. we easily fell back into our rhythm of joking and teasing balanced with the more serious sides of life, politics, religion and our more genuine thoughts. it was good company in a beautiful samuel smith owned pub, the one place in london i've found with freshly brewed beer on draft that is served in the right glass. we went on a hunt for dinner and finished up with cookies in covent garden. all kevin's treat i might add, i knew i kept him around for more than his rugged good looks.

it was a lovely day. the kind of day that made my whole trip worthwhile. it was simple and full of beautiful things and time for me to reflect on them and enjoy it.

Who doesn't want to party at a megalithic, ancient ruin?

Alright. So Saturday night, I went to Stonehenge with the guys from the flat below us, J, JT, and Steve. Now, I really hadn’t hung out with them before but I figured hey I’m in England, it’s the summer solstice, really how many chances like that does one person get?

Now the last train leaving for Stonehenge left at 10:28. We showed up at the train station, sans tickets, at 10:15. After attempting to buy said tickets, we remembered the stupid machines don’t take US credit cards and none of us had enough cash. Since there was literally only one minute left before the train headed out, we sprinted towards the platform. Ticketless, we jumped aboard seconds before the train pulled out. We got split up in our scramble to get seats and JT and I were quietly freaking out about the situation, while J calmly went and found the guy collecting tickets, bought our tickets and crisis averted.

After we got off the train, we had to take a bus, which of course required more tickets. While J was once again being responsible, JT and I made friends with Caty, the girl with a cat nose and whiskers drawn on in sparkly paint. I soon was sporting a sparkly star and JT, a butterfly. Steve joined us at this point and was rewarded with a giant S for Stonehenge.

Once we got off the bus we saw.. Stonehenge! Actually, not yet, it was really dark so we couldn’t see much of anything and then we had to hike about a mile to get to the actual stones. All totally worth it though, because once we made it to the rocks, we were so close we could touch them. In fact, we did more than tough them; we stood on one of the fallen ones. T’was sweet!

After we made it up on that rock, Steve and I refused to leave for anything. As a bonus, I also got to make friends with Mark the Wizard. He had a long gray beard, a cloak, and a giant magic stick. Pretty sure he was a druid. He was there with the woman he is hand fasted to. He grew up close to Stonehenge and had been to these festivals like 42 times (it was in the 40s, but don’t quite remember what number). After explaining which way the sun came up and at the winter solstice, where it set, he let me try his home brewed honey mead since it was my first time to Stonehenge. Wizards are so cool. Also, he only lives 5 tube stops away from me.

As the night went on, we made other random friends. Close to 36,000 people showed up. The only thing not to show up was the sun the next morning. Stupid British weather. Oh well.

On the way back to get the bus, Steve and I got separated from the other two. This was mainly because we really, really, really had to pee. Unfortunately, after that we ended up walking the wrong direction through a giant field of cars. For some reason we walked all the way through before admitting it was wrong, backtracking, and then still having to walk all the way to the bus. Miserable, especially since we had definitely gone from drunk straight to hung over. Then we had to buy more bus tickets since J had ours and of course we just missed the train, so we had to wait 50 min for the next one (we napped in the evil metal chairs on the platform). Sleep deprived, we climbed on the train, where we realized I no longer had my ticket. Turns out that wasn’t even our problem. Instead we got yelled at by the ticket man because there was only two people in our party of four and apparently you’re not allowed to split up. However, he gave up and let us nap. After the train, another bus ride, and we were finally home, 12 hours after our initial venture out of the house.

live update from baldwin's gardens

i have just submitted my outline of events in afghanistan from 2000-present for the third time. if my editor asks for more edits, i am going to personally go to kabul and punch her in the nose. i have acquired un-acquire-able details, i have scavanged the furthest reaches of the internet, i have toiled, i have sweated. all over this stupid timeline that i have to get done so i can write my features.

i have rewarded myself for my efforts with a cranberry brownie. be jealous.

vanessa, who is the cutest girl in the world, runs the staff meetings at IWPR and is tony's (head leader/inventor/troublemaker of IWPR) assistant. today is our weekly staff meeting and she is very excited because we can now Skype our foreign offices. woo hoo for foreign election coverage in crazy falling apart countries. the phone call is quite static ridden and really, we can only understand about 70% of what is happening in kurdistan. IWPR is big on small victories therefore, i fit right in. they are also big on training journalists in crisis areas so they can produce their own journalism and hold their governments accountable. it's exciting to be (a small) part of.

everyone is currently debating the amount of entries for the contest for heroic journalism that IWPR puts up every year. having never produced a piece of heroic journalism in my life, i am not eligible. it's like guessing for knobel, but without the luftwaffe (bummer). i guessed 77. i feel as though this may be too high, but we have a facebook fan page, so maybe our reach has grown.

it is finally getting warm here in london. i'm not wearing tights (woohoo rebel!) and i think it is supposed to be in the upper 70's this weekend. i am going to call it 80 in my head so i feel better about it. i am going to sunbathe in hyde park and drink lots of wine. it's no ComFest, but it'll have to do.

and now, for round 2 of googling madness: security issues in afghanistan....

apparently, according to one miss ana bennett "all of der brau knows you are going to italy," so here, official announcement: i am going to italy. details will follow soon.

the world breaks everyone

today is father's day in the u.s and even here in g.b i can't escape it. my roommates have spent the past few days buying cards and this afternoon chatting to their fathers back home. this day is always a rough one for me, and the weeks leading up to it don't make it any easier. the tube is plastered with ads reminding me to buy my dad a tie or a set of golf clubs, two things he never would have used anyway. harrod's is full of deals on father-esque things, such as button down shirts and cuff links.

my father wasn't a cuff link kind of guy. he dressed simply on a daily basis, levi 501s and t-shirts, leather jackets and motorcycle boots. for causal events, it was dockers and italian button down shirts and boat shoes. dressing up meant a simple, classic italian suit. ties were reserved for only the most formal occasions. and no matter what was happening, he always smelled of ralph lauren and molboro cigarettes and a little bit like salami.

i miss him a lot today. perhaps it's because it's father's day, and in my father-less state i am feeling sorry for myself. maybe it's just the home-sickness getting to me. but there is something about being in the land of soccer and bread and red wine that makes me feel so close to him that it aches. i want so badly to buy him a chelsea football club hat and to watch him wear it until it wears out, and then fix it and wear it some more. i want to call him and ask him how to take the train from naples to lamezia. i want to ask him where i should go in vienna. i want him to go to vienna with me.

i ate a salami sandwich with havarti on good bread for him today. i figured it was a worthwhile tribute, although i will never master the art of making a sandwich like my dad did.

i have a lot of unanswered questions for my dad; questions about his childhood and my childhood and what is going on in iran how to change a flat tire and how to make stew. i am afraid that returning to his homeland cannot answer these questions for me. but, perhaps it can bring me a little closer to a man i didn't have for quite long enough.

ready for your close up?

http://www.flickr.com/photos/edelweissandforgetmenots/

this is where i'll be posting photos as we traverse throughout england and europa

Guest post by one Ryan Book

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Much to my disappointment, the UK is not at all like the aforementioned Sex Pistols song. It is still pretty solid. Here is a summary of the last few days:

JUNE 15, 2009

I arrived latish at the airport and was grilled by an angry Iranian immigration officer at the gate. "YOU ARE ONLY COMING FOR THREE DAYS?!?" and "HOW CAN YOU AFFORD THIS IF YOU ARE JUST A STUDENT?!?" were among her inquiries. My standard answer of "That's what she said" did not help my cause.

We arrived back at the flat where Claire was greeted by a surprise birthday celebration, consisting of champagne spilled on floor and a torte bought by Catrina. Happy irrelevant 21st Claire!!!

JUNE 16, 2009

A list of British things that will never cease amusing me: "Way Out", "Mind the Gap", and "Picadilly Line". Honestly though, the underground is the greatest thing ever. It's like COTA, except completely different.

CCR (Claire, Catrina, and Ryan) visited the British Museum, which was both fun and free. The British Empire, after looting every nation on Earth, realized it could justify it by putting it on display for free. Estimates suggest that nearly half of ancient Egypt is contained within the museum.

Catrina took Claire and I to a swanky pub during the night (it's still Claire's b-day recall) and we tried various Sam Smith (the Sam Adams of the UK) beers. Catrina set up a date with a decent bloke working the bar, but at this moment she is skipping it. LAME. We then continued to a night club which was overpriced and Brits dancing to a cover band playing 'Sweet Home Alabama' much like our grandparents danced at sock hops. We went home, fairly intoxicated.

JUNE 17, 2009

We woke up at lunch and made our way to the original Hard Rock Cafe. Food was delicious and expensive.

NOTE TO ELISE: As I hear you are the only person who reads this, you'll be jealous to hear we sat by Jimi Hendrix's guitar. HA.
NOTE TO CHRISSIE: As you are the other person who reads this, it was a ES-135. I believe you own one of these. Me = jealous.

CCR continued to Parliament/ Westminister Abbey in the afternoon. Buildings big. I was hoping to take awkward photos at Abbey but fare was absurd. I can go to church for free in America, I just choose not to. There is a statue of MLK at WM Abbey. AMERICA....heck yeah.

Interesting note: Claire doesn't know the difference between Mahatma Gandhi and Nelson Mandela.

JUNE 18, 2009: BONUS DAY!!!

Due to a bizarre error with check-in at the airport, I was not included on my flight, much to C+C's chagrin. As they had schoolwork to do (aka no patience for my shenanigans) I set out alone into the city.

I headed over to the National Gallery. Trafalgar Square is real sweet. The Museum had a fair amount of recognizable names and it was free!

I then walked around Buckingham Palace, which is home to the world's most inefficient family. I was politely asked to leave the gift shop after asking where the Princess Di postcards were.

Finally, over to Hyde Park where I took some awkward self-portraits and headed back to the flat where the hungry girls awaited. Claire reminded me to get some sleep as I WAS leaving the next day. She pointed a knife at me while she said this.

Thanks for letting me handle the guest post, and as they say in the UK: au revoir!

-Ryan Book

turn your camera on

lots of pictures coming shortly....promise.

lions and strikes and queens, oh my

Alright. To quickly sum up before we get too far behind to even try and catch up. Last week, the tube workers went on strike. This was fabulous news since nobody knew how to work the bus system. Consequently, some people in the program took 3 hours to get to work and then of course cried.

Luckily, Catrina and I had work off on the first day. Instead we went on an exciting and surprisingly sightseeingesque bus ride to find the British Library. Since we were famished, we stopped into a pub to grab a bite to eat. I ordered a tuna melt. Now, similar to most of our British experiences, you think you know what you are getting but no, you are wrong. My tuna melt was tuna and melted cheese on a baguette. No relish or onions or mayonnaise or anything in the tuna. The British put mayo on everything but the one time I actually wanted a little it was no where to be seen.

After the library, we somehow made it to class since part of the tube was working. Upon arriving to stupid class, which we had been informed no tube strike would cancel, we were told to tell out friends who didn’t come that it was okay. Gah, we could have skipped and no one would have even known. Damn Catrina for being right. Afterwards we made it home, again on the tube in a somewhat roundabout manner.

Also, since Catrina and I were terrified of trying to get to work the following day via the bus, we were considering just skipping. Catrina was just planning on going in on Fri, but I had only worked one day. Luckily, I got an email from my boss asking if I wanted “to give tomorrow a miss” because of the strike. I love my boss. I’m just going to work four days next week. Problem solved.

Since Catrina, Amanda, Caitlyn and I all were not working, we decided to try and go to the National Galleries since it only took one bus to get there.

However, once there, we quickly got sidetracked by men in uniform. They informed us that there was going to be a celebration for the Prince of Edinburgh, the queen’s husband (who we knew practically nothing about) and that the queen would be there. Discounted tickets were only £10 and we figured why not. Since we wouldn’t have time to go to the museum, we decided to wisely use our time to climb some giant bronze lions in front of the Nat’l Galleries. How people easily scramble up those, we’ll never know. After much awkward pushing and sliding, we managed to get atop it just long enough for a picture. Catrina had a blast laughing at us while documenting the entire experience. After a group picture on the side of the lion, we headed off looking for food.

By picking a random direction, we discovered the Sherlock Holmes Pub. Of course we went in. Out of all the pubs, in all of London, we walked into one and sat next to a group of students from our program. What are the odds. After a lot of problems with my credit card, I happily devoured my first british fish 'n' chips and a sticky toffee pudding, as well as a Sherlock Holmes Ale. Catrina’s sausage sandwich, on the other hand, was rather pathetic. It was a sausage sliced in half on normal sliced bread, no more, no less. Not even mustard.

Now since everything happens when I am not present, of course Catrina, Amanda and Caitlyn were accosted by a prison-tattooed, tooth-missing, crazy old man while I was in the bathroom. He walked straight up to Catrina, leaned right into her face and said, “'Ello sexy!” He then proceeded to ask if they were married, because he wanted to marry all of them. Of course I missed this.

After that, we headed over to watch the parade, marching band thingy. After waiting forever, in the shade and consequently cold, with Amanda having to pee and me being attacked by allergies, the queen finally showed up. I stood on my chair to see the tiny women in her little green hat and dress. She came, she got out of the car, she shook a couple hands, and she left. Poor hubby was forced to sit under a tiny tent all by himself while drummers and such marched around for his viewing pleasure. I think he would have been happier with a pint.

With very tired feet, we finally headed home.

Obviously I haven’t covered Elise’s visit, but I figure this was a good start. Ryan Book is coming tonight, and we’re going out somewhere for my birthday. My boss took me to the pub for a drink to celebrate. Since it’s a Monday, everyone else was busy so it was just us. I got a glass of wine and we chatted for a while.

When we got back, the music selection started out with tina turner, but quickly switched to a short inspirational playlist (since European Pensions was going to print today) consisting of the final countdown, I did it my way by Frank Sinatra, whitesnake's here I go again, and chuck barry’s no particular place to go. Eye of the Tiger was originally turned off because it was “much too early for that. don't want to chance fate.” However, after Sinatra had repeated a couple times, apparently enough had been accomplished that it was then time to play it. I've just realized that this really wasn't a quick sum-up, but oh well. Just a little bit longer here, and then I can go home for my nap. I am very excited.

ELISE IS COMING

what claire consumed at work today:
1 frappachino
1 banana-nut muffin
2 cups of tea
1 pint summer ale
1 brie, tomato, basil baguette
1 ginger ale

what claire listened to at work today:
elvis
lionel richie
la bamba
the rolling stones

ps. will post later about the tube strike, the giant lion statues, and the queen

The soundtrack for work today: mamma mia, in its entirety.

I think people consume so much tea in this country because they like to procrastinate. You get to take a break to make the tea and then again when you go to the bathroom after finishing the tea. And when you have four cups of tea while at work, well you do the math.

Speaking of tea. Today I was supposed to attend The Good Socie-Tea with my boss. The discription for the event read: The All Party Parliamentary Group on the Community and Voluntary Sector and the National Council for Voluntary Organisations are pleased to invite you to afternoon tea on Monday 8 June 2009 from 4pm-6pm in the Attlee Suite at Portcullis House, House of Commons. Blah, what an invite. Sadly the new Charity Minister was appointed an hour before we were supposed to leave and my boss had to stick around to write up a piece on it. Stupid ministers are dropping like flies. My boss says he'll try to take me to some cool luncheon to make up for it.

So I had to sign another card at work for someone who is leaving. I always feel remarkably awkward in such situations because I do not know the person and obviously they do not know me either. Also I switched to work Friday (so I could write my evil nat'l security paper tomorrow) and said person is leaving on Friday. Therefore apparently another trip to the pub is in order. Oh dear.

calloh callay!

so work time is now blog time. let's face it, i can only google 'afghanistan' for so long before i start running out of things to read and my interest dwindles to about 0%.

so on friday, caitlyn, amanda and i went to portobello road market. claire, continuing her pattern of missing everything, missed it by being at work and getting drunk with her boss.

the market was a giant mess of shops and stalls selling everything from vintage clothes to fish. it was incredible. amanda bought a cameo ring and i walked away with a pretty flawless hat. i am well aware that i will recieve epic amounts of grief for said hat upon my return. but, i love it. it's tweed and has a feather in it and really, that's all it takes to make me love it. lady brett ashley would approve. i finally had a proper english veg breakfast at charlie's cafe (http://charliesportobelloroadcafe.co.uk/). i was also introduced to a teapot/teacup combo invention which i now must have and will probably end up bringing back at least one as a gift. i believe we were waited on by mr. charlie himself at the cafe. he was quite the character and made sure we enjoyed our jaunt into english cuisine. finally, this country has redeemed itself in regards to food.

after breakfast, we were on mtv. this sounds more exciting than it actually was. we were walking down the street and got asked questions about kings of leon and greenday and we had to sign a release form. i'll never see myself on mtvuk, but i was on it.

the drizzling rain finally became too much to handle, so we went home.

that night, flat 1 ventured out to calloh callay, an alice and wonderland themed bar in shorditch. the club was very cool and sleek and packed with people. we had no idea you had to make a reservation at a bar. so, we were table-less, shoved in a corner, sipping on our expensive, tiny drinks. although they do serve a giant punch drink in a gramaphone, really the only perk for going back, we probably won't go again since they gave people a hard time about getting in. i was the only one over 21, had no id, and didnt have an issue. they gave caitlyn a hard time at the door, so we probably won't be back there. london is full of other experiences and really, you only need to go to an alice and wonderland themed bar once. we also went to another bar in the area. amanda promptly fell down a flight of steps, twisted her ankle and got pretty brused up. but we had a nice time and it was far less packed. we'll probably visit it after class on wednesday, since it's within walking distance of city university, and who doesn't like a post-lecture drink?

so this week is looking promising, despite crappy london weather. it never seems to get warm here. an amazingly summery day means 65 degress and it only rains once. however, miss greene is coming friday and i can't wait to see her. it's been too long since i've had a skinny blonde in my life....

hallelujah

.

leonard fuckin cohen.

.

famous blue raincoat

um, so, guess who just bought tickets to see leonard cohen in surrey?

we did.

july 11th at brooklands museum

this summer kicks every other summer's ass ever.

tipsy, or honestly maybe a bit more

Okay, so I am currently drunk. at work. That#s right its not even 3 o'clock and I am drunk. I also still have to write an article about something in africa and a bank. i think.

So my boss invited me down to the pub for a drink during lunch. So me and 6 guys went out, the youngest might have been 27. So my boss bought me a pint, Londen's Best. and then somehow when I still had a couple sips left, someone else bought me another one. So I spent an hour and a half standing in a pub talking about movies during working hours. My excuse is that it is friday. They all seemed to think this was a brillant reasoned and consumed a third pint. i, smartily, did not. given how much trouble i'm having focusing, i think only one next time is prolly the best idea.

I am now eating an avacado wrap with stupid mayonaise on it. All i had for breakfast was abanana. i figured this was a good idea to get a sandwich before i tried to figure out this piece on something or other and finances. Okay, here i go. actually, maybe another cup of tea is a good idea. i had two my first day, three yesterday, so aparently i'm supposed to work up to 4 today. hmmm.

hahahaha

Quickly, I just had to mention this. An organisation I wrote a short piece about was originally started in the welsh town of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch. The UK is hilarious.

we have the power to make the world we seek

today, i ventured to the american embassy to watch barack obama's speech in cairo. once i got through security, i entered a bustling lobby filled with people drinking tea out of white cups and saucers emblazoned with the white house logo. although the speech itself was only the bbc being streamed on on a large video screen, something about being in the embassy, being allowed to be in the embassy to watch the speech made it seem noteworthy and real.

i can honestly say, i've never been particularly proud to be an american, and usually don't define myself as such, but today was different. watching president obama deliver his eloquent speech to the islamic world made me infinitely proud. he quoted the quran, talmud and bible with ease, bringing centuries of disparate belief together to seek the common goal of peace.

his policy on legitimizing sovereign states for both israel and the palestinian people is noble. its time has most certainly come.

his choice of venue only demonstrates his commitment to opening the doors to dialogue across the globe, regardless of policy. in order to create change, there needs to be dialogue. nothing was ever solved creating walls of silence and neglect.

The genocides in both bosnia and darfur were mentioned, important at a time when icty is finishing its trials of the milosevic administration and darfur needs assistance more than ever. perhaps a change in policy there is evident as well? perhaps he is calling on muslim nations to protect people of islamic faith at home and abroad from humanitarian atrocities.

for me, it took going abroad to look at barack obama and realize that he was my president, and that i was proud of my country for electing a half-black man with a muslim name and past, a history of atheism, from a diverse, mixed family to the presidency. his concise, educated policy is apparent, and he is beginning to enact it. i am not one of those people who 'go abroad to realize how great it is back home'. i am a firm believer that dissent is patriotic, to question your government furthers what it is capable of. today, for the first time in my life, i was a witness to the great highs american government is capable of.

it's fun to stay at the..

Today at work, I read the news online. And I don't mean that a half hour before I left I read a nytimes piece about Obama. No, I mean from noon until now the most I accomplished was drinking a cup of tea that I didn't even make. I did write a short piece and copyedit several articles but that was all done in two hours. Since I had so much freetime, I went and sat in the nearby park for lunch. (I must mention that while I was paying for my sandwich at the bagel place, who let the dogs out was playing... I know.) Anyway, in the park, after spilling my fanta, I saw a woman carrying a plastic Harry Potter broomstick. I thought she was going to try taking off right in front of me.

I then returned to the office where the YMCA was playing. It was just a day of excellent music. I did manage to figure out that the blue recycling bins filled with paper actually are the trash cans. Success! Now I can stop carrying my trash around with me everywhere. I should also mention that the person whose desk I'm sitting at has these post-its attached that read "u the best!" and "u rule...". On the upside, I feel great about myself every time I sit down.

Okay, I'm going to sit here patiently for a little while longer. Maybe I'll get to leave soon since there isn't anything more for me to do today.

at last!

Finally, I can stop being that girl who didn't really accomplish anything all day but a 7-slide powerpoint presentation (of which I'm still rather proud). Today, I went.. to work. I managed to write three pieces and edit twice as many. My boss is really nice and he even brought me a tea today.

Now, I have to brag and say that I managed to find the bathroom by myself and I went to lunch, all on my first day. Of course, I did not manage to find a trash can so I just hid my trash in my purse until I left. Perhaps that shall be my goal for tomorrow.

celery, celery

The key to attending any football match in the UK is knowing the songs and chants. This would have been great to know prior to our journey into SOBar where fans were waving high Chelsea flags, throwing celery as far as they could chuck it witout concern or care for individuals who may be hit in the eyeball with it and yelling songs and chants while spilling their beer left and right. After retreiving our beer from the bar, we headed outside where our evident shock and incessant giggling attracted the attention of some of the natives, who proceeded to mock our accents and show us their gluttony of Chelsea/ England themed tattoos. One guy had a 'Made in England' tramp stamp. I saw more of the British that day then I would ever care to. Then, rapidly and without any kind of warning, 200+ people crammed into the tiny bar to watch the game on a giant screen. There was chanting and singing and even a song where you had to kneel down and then pop back up and we just played along like we knew what was happening even though we clearly didn't.

I would just like to say, I've never been so glad to see a team win a match. I really think things would have been on fire if they would have lost. Chelsea fans would slaughter OSU fans. Slaugh-ter them.

That evening, Claire and I found one of the most adorable pubs I've ever seen. The Pembroke is just down the street from us, and is really just perfect in every way. Their menu is on giant chalkboards hanging on the walls, which are filled with mis-matched old photographs in yellowing frames. Giants chandelliers hang from the ceiling and the lamps have funky pink and green and yellow shades that look as if they were pulled out of some old proper British lady's trash. They also played an amazing mix of The Rolling Stones, Justin Timberlake and The Beatles. It was perfect.

Also, I have started work this week. This is the primary reason for my blogger-slacking. But, now that I've realized that I can do whatever I like at work, I am writing this at my desk. I've only been here 3 days and already, I am doing profiles on the 44 candidates in the Afghan elections and watching the War Crimes Tribunal at the Hague.

Yesterday, a girl got fired. It was my second day. Yikes.

I am too afraid to get up from my desk to go to lunch. I'm really not sure when lunch is, or what other people do, or who I actually report to. I also have no idea where the bathroom is. So, everyday I come home from work starving and having to pee really, really badly. I'm just going to go along with it until it gets too awkward to handle.

slacker

it's my turn to blog, and i am slacking....well, really i started work this week so i am overwhelmed. typical catrina behavior. new things, new place, new projects = overwhelmed. i promise, i will update you on the chelsea game and my job and the weirdo date man at the restaurant last night when i get home from work.