Glitter and Trauma

Hello! Since we last fluttered our eye lashes at each other via the medium of blogging, I have celebrated the 22nd anniversary of my birth. Oh yes, the big double 2. Though I have warmed to birthdays I am still not a huge celebrator for a mixture of reasons mainly, hating having my photograph taken, a complete inability to organise anything and years of people saying "oh July the 3rd, did you know that is the day before American independence day?" Why yes I did, thanks for asking. More interesting historic events that actually happened on the third include one of my top 5 battles (any history student should have such a list and many others) the Battle of Koniggratz, Minsk was liberated from the Nazis, Idaho became the 43rd state (and what a state) and the 3rd July 1994 was the deadliest day in Texas traffic history. It is also the birthday of Franz Kafka, Tom Cruise, Sebastian Vettel and Sian Lloyd. Illustrious company indeed.

Speaking of illustrious company a rag tag group of us headed to London for the big 22. We went for a night out which was a lot of fun. I met a Canadian man from whom I demanded to know which hockey team he supports only to be disgusted when he said the Ottawa Senators rather than the Montreal Canadiens. I know nothing of hockey but Emily told me to support Montreal and I now do, to the hilt, even against people who are one hundred percent more knowledgeable on the subject. The only thing worse than my singstar performance was my table football one. Thanks to everyone.

On Sunday, Sarah 'Wings' Gilbert kept her feet on the ground long enough to be kind enough to drive Hannah and myself down to Brighton. After an epic trawl for a parking space it was a proper day by the seaside. Walking on the pier, paddling, 99s and watching some rogue threaten to beat the hell out of someone on the beach. It had it all. Annoyingly, some little girls have been watching too much Sweet Valley High leading to Brighton resorting to hold "Future Cheer", a national cheerleading competition. They were everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. Ranging from 7 year olds, who shouldn't be dressed like that, to 18/19 year olds who really should know better. I know what I am, a former student of a Gravesend comprehensive. All the glitter in the world can't cover that shame.

After such a nice weekend it was a come down to have a day on Monday so crushingly dull I ended up wandering around New Ash Green at 10 at night. I don't know what I was hoping for, maybe to witness something that would require me to spend a night giving police statements. Now I know what reading this blog must feel like

My level of Spanish continues to fluctuate wildly. Some days I think I am getting to grips with it, others I descend into a pit of verb ending related despair. On the brighter side I have learnt a fairly impressive way of being bashfully dismissive of my Spanish. If I was trapped in a corner in Romania I would weep and mutter that I couldn't speak Romanian. In Spain, however, I can say "nu muy bien, pero hablo espanyol un poco". Which is "not very well, but I speak Spanish a little", which is more impressive, which is lucky as it will get frequent use. I imagine the person I'm talking too and I throwing back our heads laughing at my bashful modesty, before they get pissed off when they realise just how little Spanish I meant. My prediction of Mr Smith and Ms Gomes getting 'funky', which I believe is the parlance the kids are using, has become a little closer to reality. Mr Smith strutted into a shop in Venezuela in which Ms Gomes was working (she does get around), boasted about how much he wanted to buy and then asked her to dinner when she tried to get rid of him.

love love love x


ps In case you were wondering:

1. The Republican Defence of Madrid
2. The Defence of Sarajevo
3. The Battle of Britain
4. The Battle of Stalingrad
5. The Battle of Koniggratz