Washington, DC (run, Forrest)

The Nation's Capital.
Did You Know: Washington, DC is not a part of any state; it's just a sort of, place. And: The Washington Monument is also referred to as 'Triple Nickel' because a nickel = 5 cents and the Monument is 555ft high (or thereabouts).
The night-time 'Illumination Tour' of the city's Important Things is well worth it: particularly poignant and atmospheric, even if you're only in it for the film locations.
I involuntarily shut down at the Lincoln Memorial due to the bitter cold.
Sorry, Lincoln Memorial.

Enough already

Last night we 'hung' with some 'dudes' at the Ding Dong bar off 105th St as recommended by a European hostel worker ('zer music it is underground und dark'). After one drink I was keen to slink away but R was busy discussing ways to take over the world with a Nigerian called Abi. I chimed in, 'can't we all just co-exist instead of trying to dominate each other all the time?'
'Communist,' said Richard. I retreated into the shadows.
This morning we pondered over how best to spend our remaining hours in New York.
'Sweetheart, I've got it!' cried an earwigging lady. 'All the shops open at 4am the day after Thanksgiving!' Richard said, 'want to give it a whirl?' I said I'd rather eat broken glass. We plumped for drifting around Central Park and watching the Thanksgiving Parade. Camping adventures next.
Camping. Me + camping.
Hmmm.

Somebody get me some frickin' donuts

Here we are in New York, population 9m, or 8.2 depending on source
I loathe flying and was glad to reach the USA.
Once at JFK we were immediately flummoxed by the new transport system. Determined not to look vulnerable, we struck out into the crowd purposefully, pointing sagely at random signs and objects.
Where we were actually going was anybody's guess.
We eventually reached Central Park and our hostel room, which I disliked at once.
'Get used to it,' growled Richard, whereupon I began hurling the contents of my backpack around the room, princess-like, and demanding that we 'go home.'
All forgotten today however - we've walked the entire length of Manhattan. We boarded the Staten Island Ferry and saw the Statue of Liberty (a pleasing shade of bluey-turquoise). At Times Square I piped, 'look Richard, there's the debt counter - for our holiday so far.'
We also ascended a vast structure called the 'Empire State Building.' It was nice.
To be continued

E-asy now

We leave tomorrow. Mood has switched to #D2: Quagmire.
Need a treat to calm me down. Just remembered our flights are confirmed via e-vouchers. What's an e-voucher? Where did I put the e-vouchers? I appeal to R but he's flustered about something of his own, and advises me to 'get out of his face.' Oh God. Should I have had that beer? Where's my passport? And what about the ... [fade out] ...

Imbibe early morning

I've had a number of leaving events in recent days, which I've no intention of tiring you with, but I would just like to remark on Friday's: the Work Colleague's Outing. I don't know how others felt, but I thought it was excellent.

The reason is this: here in England it is customary to head out in packs at night, drink odd-tasting juices and produce a dazzling array of inappropriate remarks (whilst swaying a little) and then go home. This is all very well provided that one is wearing the right 'hat' for the occasion - and for women this can be problematic.

A woman is like a vehicle with many gears (for example, a tractor); she has a level of mood to suit every occasion. The design flaw is a lack of control over which goes where - and when. Tonight I was lucky: I got allocated personality #F: Smooth Terrain.

Thanks, Mother Nature.

Mum Envy

Today: my last jab-visit to the nurse. I've liked going to see the nurse. There's a height detector on the wall by the entrance, just like the ones you used to get in school. I've been sidling up to it longingly after each session, itching to say, 'can you measure me please?' And today I thought: I'm leaving on Tuesday - why not live a little? Damn it, I'll ask. I'm 5'11."
After this intrigue I headed for the Clipper (bar) with my dear Mother. She looked alarmingly good in her Gap jeans, complete with stylish accessories as endorsed by Gok Wan etc. etc. My Mum looks better than me, I thought. How has this come about?
Back at home we've been experimenting with our backpacks. Upon dragging them out of the cupboard there sprung the immediate question: who was having which? Both of us lunged for the blue one. A fight was clearly imminent, but being the smaller person I had to back down. Green one it is - half of which is now filled with anti-malaria pills.
Hmm.

Keeping up appearances

Nearly time to go and I feel I may not be up to speed. Should I be concerned about my lack of shoes? How many cents are there in a dollar? What is a dollar? I keep attempting to tick off this and that during my lunch hour, but, like Basil Fawlty trying to listen to his classical music, it doesn't work out.
Some farewell drinks were had in Taunton on Saturday. What a lovely array of old books there were in that pub! And I managed to get some shut-eye as well. I must have been well gone - various items fell off me as I rose to return to the bar. A trio of glossy students sniggered nearby. I haughtily glided past them, before realising I had laddered my tights.
Glued? More soon.

Glower, glower

I am appalled, disgusted, incensed etc. etc. I loathe Diamond car insurance. Why does everyone have to outsource their call centre facilities? How hard is it to cancel your policy? I couldn't understand them. They couldn't understand me. They redeemed themselves somewhat by playing early Elton John when they put me on hold. Even so. They haven't heard the last of this

Right. I'm off for a glass of Leffe.

By the way, the picture shows the view from where I live.

Welcome, Sophie

I've had one or two to drink, so I'm just going to talk at random. It's Bonfire Night, which doesn't involve anything I want to partake in, so I find myself scowling into my wine and thinking, whatever happened to excited, sparkler-loving Laura? Grumble. She saw sense, that's what. Frown.
Less than 3 weeks until we go. How has that happened?
I wonder who'll cater for those mangey cats we've got lodging in the shed. They appear to have migrated at random from nearby hills. R likes them there because they control the rat population; always a worry on farms. I'm not keen on the little deviants - they look so bedraggled though and I haven't the heart to let them starve
Someone at work became a father today.
It's happening all around us. Richard and I appear to be on some sort of shrinking ice floe. Soon we'll be completely marooned on our little island. I sometimes get edgy. Should we be following suit? ...But no. I've never felt even slightly maternal. Shrug.
Also today: we ('we' she says) have a new president, in the form of Barrack Obama: Democrat, 47 years of age, no. 44 should you wish to know. Of all the presidential races to date, the tallest candidate has always won. Fact.