Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 323

Big bottoms

Nope, I am not talking about ladies (or gents) here, folks. I am talking about the bottom bits of American houses (yes, the basements), particularly in the area in which I live (sometimes called McMansionville, I hear…)

I went to a house the other day on an estate (do not think of this like we think of estates in the UK – this is like a posh, luxurious complex with MANSION type houses on acres of land).

A gurt big house like this

A gurt big house like this on a sprawling estate

Not a London estate like this....

Not a London estate like this….

Anyway, so I was in this house and it was GINORMOUS and luxurious and I wanted to slide down the staircase and totter about in heels with a gin and tonic in my hand, but I did not do either of these things, sadly.

But I did sit in the basement and oggle it. Basements in the USA (well, this part of the USA) are very different from how we use or view our basements in the UK.

It looked at bit like this…

Fabulous!

Fabulous!

And nothing like this…

A grotty old basement ;)

A grotty old basement πŸ˜‰

I have friends (the #hocohomos) who have the most fabulous basement EVER and I love being at their house, and to honest, I could just move in there because it has everything I need – like TWO BARS and A WINE CELLAR and a POOL TABLE and FLAT SCREEN TVS and JUKE BOXES and GAMES MACHINES and a large open space to dance.

Anyhow, the thing that really struck me as I sat in this large underground space was this: my entire house back in the UK could fit in this space. It really could. Fancy that!

American Realtors

One of my favourite American stories this week is about a guy called Phil Jones who, for the last few months, has been recreating the ads from local realtors and then taping over them with his own version.

Like these:

:)

πŸ™‚

:)

πŸ™‚

:)  :)

πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚

Phil told BuzzFeed that he’s a pretty big fan of the way realtors tend to advertise themselves and he thought the best way to honor their awesome/awkward look was to try it out himself.

I’m totally with Phil on this. I often titter (laugh) away as I drive past realtor signage with their faces smiling out at you to TRY AND SELL A HOUSE. We don’t get that in the UK at all. There are logos and names of the ‘estate agents’ and maybe a small, recognisable design or emblem, but not your FACE.

UK estate agents

UK estate agents

And, to be honest, we don’t really have ‘realtors’ anyway, so this whole thing is completely different! My favourites, as I have mentioned early on in this blog, are Bob and Ronna πŸ™‚

But I often pass the signage for this chap, and can’t help thinking to myself how much he looks like my friend’s husband back in the UK.

Creig Northrop or Rich Hunt...? :)

Creig Northrop or Rich Hunt…? πŸ™‚

Perhaps he’s his doppleganger…….

Anyway, American realtors (can’t get used to that word; it’s like there is a syllable missing….), all I can say is this: what a jammy job looking round big houses and wot not! πŸ˜‰ Where do I sign up…..? πŸ™‚

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 322

The Littlest Hobo

‘Sometimes we expats are like the Littlest Hobo.’

Those are the words we uttered to our American friends, whilst musing about the fact that we expats never really seem to ‘settle down’ anywhere.

They looked at us blankly and slightly baffled.

‘You know,’ we said, ‘Like the Littlest Hobo, from the 80s TV show.’

‘Nope.’

‘But you must know it,’ we said ‘- it’s from the USA.’ And we sang this very theme tune, word for word (don’t you know), to them.

How I loved this show, as, I imagine, did any other Brits born between 1970ish and 1980ish. Ah, the joy it brought!

But, our American friends had not had the pleasure of the Littlest Hobo, which I could not understand.

‘It’s probably a Canadian show,’ they offered. I Googled it to check. Yes, it was Canadian.

‘The Littlest Hobo is a Canadian television series based upon a 1958 American film of the same name directed by Charles R. Rondeau. The series first aired from 1963 to 1965 in syndication, spanning six seasons and was revived for a popular second run on CTV from October 11, 1979 to March 7, 1985. It starred an ownerless dog.

Love this little doogie

Love this little doogie

‘The storyline revolved around a stray German Shepherd, the titular Hobo, who wanders from town to town, helping people in need. Although the concept (of a dog saving the day) was perhaps similar to that of Lassie, the Littlest Hobo’s destiny was to befriend those who apparently needed help. Despite the attempts of the many people whom he helped to adopt him, he appeared to prefer to be on his own, and would head off by himself at the end of each episode.

‘Never actually named on-screen, the dog is often referred to by the name Hobo or by the names given by temporary human companions. Hobo’s background is also unexplained on-screen. His origins, motivation and ultimate destination are also never explained.

‘Although some characters appeared in more than one episode, the only constant was the Littlest Hobo himself.’

My American friends, you missed out on so much! And all because you didn’t get Canadian imports πŸ˜‰

A Different Perspective

It’s blog voting season and I have written an entry in an expat competition about what’s super-dooper about my host country (that’ll be America). This is my entry.

It would be terribly nice of you if you would be so kind as to vote for my entry, like it and tweet it and wot not and leave a lovely comment.

Cheers America!

Cheers America!

Thanks ever so blog readers! πŸ™‚

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 321

Expat wife swapping

So, I’m what’s known in the expat world as a ‘trailing spouse’. What a hideous term. It kind of conjures up images of us women lugging all the suitcases about behind our husbands as they do important things, and bowing our heads in a subservient manner, whilst putting on a pinny and making sure his supper is ready upon his return.

Yes, as you can see, I find this term rather old-fashioned and irritating.

This, as you probably realise, is not me

This, as you probably realise, is not me

I described the role of the trailing spouse to my American friends just recently, sort of like this:

‘So, there’s a bunch of us who are trailing spouses and we sort of know each other, and sometimes we all get together. Occasionally it’s hard being a trailing spouse because it is a sort of forced situation, but we do our best and take out of it what we can and most of us enjoy the experience, though there are some trailing spouses who find it really tough.’

My American friend mis-heard ‘trailing spouse‘ and thought I said ‘trading spouse‘. Yes, he really did. Re-read that sentence now and exchange ‘trailing’ for ‘trading’. Then, like him, you would think there are a bunch of British expats in the USA who are into wife-swapping. At first, he was horrified, until I corrected him. Oh, how we laughed!

Trading spouses the expat way :)

Trading spouses the expat way πŸ™‚

(That’s not to say that there might not be some British expat wife-swapping going on….I’m just now aware of it πŸ˜‰ )

Now, there’s a blog post ripe for the taking!

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 320

Awesome Columbia

Yesterday there was a whole lot of hoo-hah here about Columbia, Maryland (that place where I live) being given a hard time by an actress off the telly (Julia Louis-Dreyfus from Veep, don’t ya know!).

Julia, Julia, Julia....

Julia, Julia, Julia….

This is my response to that piece published at the Baltimore Post Examiner. Enjoy!

Pretty ain't it?

Pretty awesome Columbia

And this is County Exectuive, Ken Ulman’s response πŸ™‚

Christmas Cracker Jokes….

My American friend said that he had his first proper cracker yesterday. He was very excited to get a gift inside it, but he had no idea what it was.

What is that?!

What is that?! (Looks rude to me….)

Well, we discovered that it was Silicone Tea Infuser & Cup Lid, of the strawberry variety.

Was there a joke, I asked? I still don’t know the answer, but it led me to thinking. Would my American chums find the British cracker jokes funny? (By the way, we Brits don’t find many of them side-splitting hilarious, so don’t feel obliged to laugh….)

Hilarious or not...?

Hilarious or not…?

This year the UK TV channel Gold launched a Twitter competition to find some totally uproarious gags for its bespoke range of Christmas crackers…these, below, are some of the winners.

A panel of judges – led by comedy expert Bruce Dessau (who?) – chose a shortlist of the best #GoldCrackers jokes, which were then voted on by 2,000 British adults.

Some of these you will only really and truly get if you have knowledge of British culture (TV culture for the Queen joke, but it still kind of works without that knowledge, if you know how/people think the Queen refers to herself).

What does Miley Cyrus have at Christmas?
Twerky.

Why did no-one bid for Rudolph and Blitzen on eBay?
Because they were two deer.

Mary and Joseph – now they had a stable relationship.

What did Santa do when he went speed dating?
He pulled a cracker.

What does the Queen call her Christmas Broadcast?
The One Show.

Why don’t you ever see Santa in hospital?
Because he has private elf care.

How did Mary and Joseph know that Jesus was 7lb 6oz when he was born?
They had a weigh in a manger.

Why is it getting harder to buy Advent Calendars?
Because their days are numbered.

How do you know if Santa’s been in your garden shed?
You’ve got three extra hoes.

(I know a dirty version of that one! πŸ˜‰ )

Why was the Brussels sprout sent to prison?
Because it was a repeat offender.

Such fun to be had!

Such fun to be had!

The winning ‘twerky’ gag was written by Richard Woolford, who received Β£5,000 in prize money for his efforts (and a box of Gold crackers).

Bet he’s going to have a super-fun and utterly hilarious Christmas!

So, Americans/Brits….cracker jokes: funny or not funny?! Did you laugh out loud? Go on, admit it…you did! πŸ˜‰

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 319

Chicken on the Roof

This is the sad, sad story of the Chicken on the Roof.

There is a restaurant called Chicken on the Roof in Joppa, MD (I had to check that this Joppa WAS in Americaland and not the one in Israel – in fact, I found out that there are several ‘Joppas’ in the USA – seven to be precise! And there are three in the UK – well I never!)

Anyway, this restaurant is called Chicken on a Roof because…..it has a large, ugly, blown up, plastic chicken on the roof.

Chicken on the Rood restaurant

The chicken on the roof at the Chicken on the Roof restaurant

This is also a chicken on a roof, but it is not the restaurant

This is also a chicken on a roof, but it is not the restaurant to which I refer…although live chickens might actually be preferable, even though they would be sitting on the roof watching their brothers and sisters being cooked inside….so maybe that’s not feasible (or humane)…..

The sad story is that there have been complaints about the chicken feature on the roof. People think it’s ugly and an eyesore. Well, it is, to be fair. But….the restaurant is called Chicken on the Roof. If there chicken were to be taken down, what would they then call the restaurant? Perhaps they could put it in the yard and then it could be called ‘Chicken in the Yard’, or maybe get a pick up truck for the front and call it ‘Chicken in the Pick Up Truck’? I’m just trying to think of helpful alternatives πŸ˜‰

Anyway, that is the sad, sad story of the ugly Chicken on the Roof.

Counting out American pennies

Today I achieved something monumentous in the USA.

I counted out 77 cents in coins at the checkout in lickety-split time.

I told the cashier that I’d only just got my head round the USA coinage after 16 months and that I had pleasantly surprised myself in doing this, but she really could not have given a toss about my British expat ramblings.

The coins, as I’ve whittered on about before, are the wrong size for the denominations – honestly, they are! 16 months…yes really, it took me that long! Go ahead, mock me as you wish!

However, I was chuffed to bits with my silly British self. Hoorah for me!

Dimes, nickels, quarters and other stuff

Dimes, nickels, quarters and other stuff

(PS. This was in Starbucks, and I made a conscious effort to ask for HOT TEA when making my purchase, so as not to confuse the poor lass any further.)

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 318

Sometimes it still feels like I’m abroad

It does sometimes feel like that, even after 16 months. I can’t explain it (okay, I will give it a try….)

Sometimes I have a ‘moment’ and go to myself ‘ooh, look at this around me, it’s all different and not my “home”, and it feels so very much like I am in another country (yes, yes, I know I am!), but this is also where I live. Weird.’

See, told you I can’t explain it.

What happened was, I was driving along looking at the snow on the sides of the road and for a moment I caught myself, and realised that the scenery and landscape looked just like the America I used to see on the news and on the TV, and very much how I had always imagined it to look after it had been snowing.

To be honest, my actual stream of consciousness went like this:

‘Ooh, all that snow….this looks America in The Wire….funny that, I remember watching The Wire before I came out here and seeing the snow in a few episodes, and thinking, blimey George, that looks cold – I shouldn’t want to live there. Ha, ha!’

Baltimore in the snow

Baltimore in the snow

Sometimes, just sometimes, I totally HAM up the British accent

Yes, I do! Does it get me anywhere? Nope!

I find very often that when I am speaking to new people on the phone, or even in person, I have to repeat the first thing that I say since the British accent takes them by surprise.

Today, trying to get a dentist’s appointment, that happened (even though I suspect most people who phone the dentist start with the sentence ‘Hello, I’d like to make an appointment please…’!).

Despite having to repeat that, from then on in I hammed up the British accent so I that sounded all la-dee-dah and plummy, and added in some ‘awfullys’ and ‘terriblys’ and ‘thanks ever sos’ in the hope that she would find me sooooo lovely and British that she would be able to fit me in for an appointment (because ‘me [frig*ing] teeth’ are killing me – no, don’t worry, I’m not blaming high fructose corn syrup πŸ˜‰ ). But it was not to be.

Anyhow, in all my discomfort, it made me think of this great British ditty (that which we Brit kids all grew up on!). FYI, I did/do look after my teeth, I just cracked one on an almond earlier today! Sigh.

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 317

Sledding or sledging

Right, so the snow, it cometh. And bloody well lots of it, as they predicted.

In fact, after reports last night, I was preparing for another six inches (as the actress said to the bishop / that’s what she said.)

Snow

Snow

More snow

More snow

And more snow

And more snow

Folk here have been talking about ‘sledding’ and I’m thinking two things:

a) No thanks, awfully, and
b) Oh, you mean SLEDGING!
πŸ˜‰

We Brits refer to the act of sitting on something and sliding down a hill in the freezing cold differently from our American cousins. Well, of course we do – these are the funny differences between us!

I like this U.S description….

‘In the U.S, here would be images of how I define each sledge, sleigh, and sled, despite all of them having a similar definition in the dictionary.’

Sledge: sledgehammer

In the USA, this is a 'sledge' (hammer)

In the USA, this is a ‘sledge’ (hammer)

Sleigh: santa’s sleigh

I think this is a sleigh on both sides of the pond

I think this is a sleigh on both sides of the pond

Sled: kid on sled

Kid on a sled, innit

Kid on a sled, innit

Do we Britons sledge on a sled or on a sledge? Oh now I can’t remember what I did in my youth…. sledging on a sledge, I’m sure.

In America, though, they go sledding on a sled, that I do know πŸ˜‰

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 316

Snow storm, snow, ice, stormy weather conditions, blah, blah

Well, there it is, the snow. And I still don’t like it. Snow days mess with grown up plans – like WORK πŸ˜‰

Anyhow, best pull on my thermals under my Daisy Dukes (actually, perhaps not – it paints not a pretty picture….!) because they (the media) say the worst is yet to come.

I suppose snow can be fun.... (I was taking pic from the INSIDE of the house ;) )

I suppose snow can be fun…. (I was taking pic from the INSIDE of the house πŸ˜‰ )

And this is what the media folk are saying:

‘It’s coast to coast: Rare winter weather slams virtually entire U.S.’

‘Flights are canceled, cars are piling up in icy crashes, and millions are stranded — many at home, others along roads. And this isn’t just typical winter fare slamming the Northeast. It’s part of a rare pattern walloping virtually the entire United States at once.’

This is the weather picture of the USA today…

Yes, I confess I do wish I was in Florida.

Yes, I confess I do wish I was in Florida.

I checked the temperatures for Florida first thing this morning, just to compare – jammy beggars!!

I still get confused about temperatures. I think in Celsius, not Farenheit. This leads to total confusion with American friends..

‘OMG, it’s going to be -7 in Rhode Island.’ [Where they were going.]
‘You’re kidding, that’s so, so, so, cold! Beyond cold.’ [Shocked, and slightly scared faces.] They pause. ‘Wait up, that’s in your funny language, right?’
‘Er, yes….so in Farenheit, it’s 19 degrees.’ [Which is still flipping freezing!]

Travelling is pretty crappy

Travelling is pretty crappy

So news reports about temperatures totally do my head in. Like this:

‘Temperatures in Baltimore are at or above freezing right now, but it is 30 in Frederick and 30 in Westminster.’

But how I read that is that freezing in Fahrenheit is not freezing, it’s like a number quite a bit above Zero. Zero is freezing because it is 0. Oh now, I’m, confusing myself.

Whatever it is, it is flippin’ cold and I don’t like it!

In all the snow confusion, this cute deer rescue comes out as a wintery-cheer fest!

Remind me to not to go Minnesota in the winter…

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 315

SNOW!

Oh yes, snow is on its way – in fact, we’ve been issued a snow storm weather warning for Howard County, so I’ve cancelled plans for going out (sorry Josie!), since as I remember from last time it snowed I was bit rubbish at driving in it.

Schools here will potentially be closed tomorrow if conditions appear to be hazardous/snowy/icy/icy-rain or whatever, and then they are supposed to add these cancelled ‘snow days’ on at the end of the school year.

I don’t remember that happening at the end of this school year just gone, and whilst it may sound incredibly selfish (I just read this back, and yes, it does), that means one more day at the outdoor pools without the kids – hoorah! So, all said and done, there are benefits to snow days in December, January and February πŸ˜‰

Yeah, bring on a snow day (even tho it buggers up my work plans)

Yeah, bring on a snow day (even tho it buggers up my work plans)

Toys for kids

Me and the kiddo went shopping for Christmas presents yesterday. Not for us, but for underprivileged kids in Howard County. The delightful Jaki Ulman invited us in to help her out collecting toys in aid of the Howard County Grassroots Crisis Intervention Center, an emergency and transitional shelter, and a 24-hour phone and walk-in crisis center for men, women, and children right here in HoCo.

The kids with the toys for kids

The kids with the toys for kids

David Simon says stuff about America

I love The Wire. I love it a lot. I love that it is a brilliant drama, I love that it is set in Baltimore and I love that the two leading men are British and do excellent American accents.

The Wire set

The Wire set

Anyway, the creator of The Wire said this today in The Guardian.

‘America is a country that is now utterly divided when it comes to its society, its economy, its politics. There are definitely two Americas. I live in one, on one block in Baltimore that is part of the viable America, the America that is connected to its own economy, where there is a plausible future for the people born into it. About 20 blocks away is another America entirely. It’s astonishing how little we have to do with each other, and yet we are living in such proximity.’

I see this when I visit Baltimore; I’ve seen the contrasts for myself and it is mystifying and fascinating and mind-blowing. And whilst, of course, this polarisation exists in other cities, it seems to have become very much the fabric of Baltimore.

Anyway, if you want to read more of the article (it gets v political). it’s here.

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Desperate English Housewife in Washington, chapter 314

Shooting baskets

Today I sat and watched two young African-American dudes play some craaaazy basketball.

Wow, they were bouncing two balls at the same time, and there’s only one other place I’ve seen that done, but that’s another story about a hen weekend in Amsterdam.

Basketball (not my image!)

Basketball (not my image!)

Anyhow, I was mesmerised by their ball skills – they were shooting some mean baskets.

(Listen, I’m not sure if I have the lingo right, and in all honesty I feel a little uncomfortable in my English middle class voice saying such phrases, cos when I do say it, it just sounds a little ridiculous….)

So, what I meant to tell you was that these dudes were playing some amazeballs basketball and then along came two white, middle-aged women and they grabbed a couple of basketballs and started shooting some baskets and dribbling and wotnot beside them and then they all kind of interacted for a while, playing some sort of a game and joking about and it was just brilliant to see.

I don’t think I’d ever see that in my hometown in the UK. Not even with hopscotch in the playground.

For the record, the dudes whipped the ladies’ asses (oh gawd, that sounds like another Amsterdam story…) – I’ll re-phrase that: the young dudes pretty much ruled the basketball court for those 10 minutes, but them ladies…. well, they gave them a run for their money, that’s for sure.

Two little, funny things in America today

1. A friend said today that my voice reminded her of a female Russell Brand. I don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad thing.

2. England and the USA got their World Cup 2014 draws for Brazil. I made a reference to it, calling England the UK instead of England. I think that’s just habit.

Decades party USA style

So tonight I attended a work party and the theme was Decades and very marvellous it all looked too – lots of thought and effort into the different decades and their personalities.

Fabulous!

Fabulous!

Yeah, we rocked it!

Yeah, we rocked it!

The food was even in decade order and taste and menu style. Check out American food from the decades (and yes, there was LOADS of it!) πŸ˜‰

No idea!

No idea!

So not British

So not British

Even the peas and carrots felt really American, even tho we Brits have those too!

Even the peas and carrots felt really American, even tho we Brits have those too!

What can I say. Meatloaf.

What can I say. Meatloaf.

Nope, no clue

Nope, no clue

Anyway, at the end of the night I snapped shots of the lists for each decade that people had been asked to write on, giving their thoughts about culture, artefacts and memories that each decade evoked for them.

I thought it would be interesting to see these, and I wonder if American readers can offer any more and if British readers spot any that would not have made the British list, or if there are some glaring omissions from a list that would be have been written by Brits. I wrote on a couple of them…..I wonder if you can tell which mine are!

The 50s

The 50s

The 60s

The 60s

The 70s

The 70s

The 80s

The 80s

The 90s

The 90s

The Noughties

The Noughties

Whaddya think folks?

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