More photos of the Fringe!

Now that I have blown my entire morning watching Google is My Roommate, videos of my friend's freaking adorable babies, and looking up curried egg salad recipes (I still haven't found one I'm wholly pleased with, so please let me know if you've got a good one!), I figured, 'I should do a blog post!' Because seriously, I can spend my life Meandering About the Information Superhighway and wind up hours later with nothing to show for it but a back-ache and a sense of disorientation.

Tonight I am determined to make a quiche, if for no other reason than the fact that one, I impulse-bought a quiche dish last week and am determined to use it, and two, I have loads of random food bits (one zucchini, a handful of mushrooms, a spare tomato) that need to be eaten, and what better way to do it than a quiche? One could also argue for an Everything Pizza, but since I did that last week...

But before I leave you to start whipping some eggs, I will subject you to more photos of the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, where I spent the entire time missing my brilliant college roommate Leslie, now a successful stand-up comedienne in New York City, and wishing she were there, even though she's currently busy rocking the New York Fringe.

Wait, wait...Forgive me while I take a minute to upload the photos...I'm going to see if there's a way to upload them through picasaweb versus my desktop picasa, which only lets me do four at a go--infinitely frustrating when you're one, impatient, and two, ready to force forty pictures down a reader's throat.

hmmmm...methinks there is no shortcut. Blast. Here we go, then...slowly but surely! (This reminds me...once, when I was a (too tall for my age) teenager, I poked fun of my mother Shirley's tiny stature but remarking 'Slowly but Shirley!' whenever we walked anywhere. I don't think she appreciated it. I was some pretty funny stuff in those days. I also found great humor in telling her I was pregnant on a regular basis, just to see how she'd respond...which is actually a joke I still enjoy to this day, though she's getting wise to it and no longer takes my complaints of nausea and bloating seriously. Someday, when I AM in my first trimester, she's gonna regret that.)

I digress.

This is a photo I like to call 'Still Life with Fruit.' (The above, not the below.)

The Fringe was full of spontaneous (or perhaps scheduled, I'm pretty ignorant here) street performances. This guy and his brother had a humorous, highly-dramatized circus act going, which drew a large crowd...

I love it that these shops are next door to each other.

'Self-portrait.'

Some people took advantage of Edinburgh's influx of people to host mini flea markets...all the pottery you can carry for five pounds! (I'm exaggerating here, otherwise I would've come home with an insane number of ceramic jugs. I can't resist a useless bargain.)

Edinburgh is FULL of these little charming side streets.

One of the comedy venues...

And another one...

There was also the fantabulous Edinburgh International Book Festival going on at Charlotte Square! I know what you're thinking: did my head explode with all of the irresistible choices?? Yes. Yes, it did.

And there were BOOK signings! I don't know who this particular author is, but apparently he appeals to chicks and the occasional gay man (who you can see when you enlarge this photo).

I don't know who this guy is, either, but judging by his look, I would say he's definitely an author of some sort. And since I couldn't find Bill Bryson, he had to do. If you recognize him from any of your book jackets, do let me know so I have a sense of satisfaction having caught him in the wild.

A lovely couple, no doubt on their way to a reading or an art gallery.

And one of the many gorgeous Edinburgh skylines.

And me! Please note my super rad super new silver puffy O'Neill's vest. It IS reversable for a more 'normal' look, though I figured at a comedy festival, that'd be a waste. You will note it bulging open in an attractive fashion. Please tell my mother it's because I am obviously with child.

Signspotting at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival

Last weekend's trip to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival was AMAZING. For many reasons--there were back-to-back comedy shows, live circus acts on every street corner, a nearby book festival (in which I heard someone SWEAR they saw Bill Bryson, a fact that I could not confirm despite investigating every nook and cranny of Charlotte Square, although I still like to hold on to the belief that I was * thisclose * to tackling him and getting a photo with him and overall making him feel very uncomfortable)..and then there was the fact that I was in Edinburgh, one of the most beautiful places on earth, where pretty much EVERYTHING takes on a magical air.

The below exhibit at the Princes Mall was put on by the Signspotting Project, in which fantastic signs from around the world were displayed here to be enjoyed by all...

The above sign's caption:

Beach huts, classic cars, and fish and chips: what more could you want out of a Sunday afternoon?

Before I give you the impression that Southend-on-Sea is nothing but a live reenactment of Sybil, let me tell you about the rest of my lovely day there...

This is me pretending to drive a 1953 Austin named Archie. (Deee, please note the fabulous kickin' awesome birthday bracelets you got me! They made this car look GOOD.)

Archie had a bit of trouble getting started. First, he had to be cranked, then he needed his spark plugs lovingly caressed, then he needed his bottom wiped. He was a darling.

Please note: in England, a wrench is called a 'spanner.' And instead of referring to idiot guys as tools like we do back home, they call them spanners, as in, 'I went to this dinner party and got stuck talking to a total spanner all night.' I thought it was interesting that calling a guy something from a toolbox was universal and that the English chose to specify which tool.

Archie, beaming merrily and innocently away:

The best part of Southend-on-Sea is of course the beach huts...

Except maybe the fish and chips:

Which came wrapped like this...

And blossomed into heavenly this, by far the best fish and chips I've EVER had:

Please note the grease on the paper. That's how you KNOW it's good...

Southend-on-Sea has an identity crisis.

Southend-on-Sea's main strip is slightly confused. Town motto? 'We can do it all.'

The London Zoo

And because I am so in the blog zone it is SICK (cue my third cup of coffee), here are some London Zoo pictures!

Now before I get started, let me throw in a disclaimer: I typically don't like zoos. Not because of 'the inhumane treatment of animals' or anything remotely honorable like that, but because they're just so effing BORING. You walk to a fence. You stare at a lion lying apathetic and innert in the sun. This is entertaining for approximately...one and a half seconds. You try to make eye contact, in the hopes that if he sees you and your happy, beaming face, he will become enthralled and do something thrilling, like stand up, but he doesn't, and so you move on to the next enclosure. You briefly skim the description printed on the wooden podium of the exhibited animal: 'The okapi, or Okapia johnstoni, comes from central Africa...' and rapidly zone out. Turning your gaze to the fabricated central African zone before you (consisting of a lot of dirt and a single tree), you strain to find this exotic beast. He is nowhere to be found. Perhaps it is feeding time in that dank, smelly warehouse located at the rear of the African plain. And so it goes: hours of trodding, squinting, waving, yelling, and moving on. Honestly, if I want to see loads of sleeping and pacing animals, I'll just go back to my desk job, where at least they occasionally get feisty after lunch.

But THIS zoo, far from being dull as dirt, was as wildly entertaining as the Cirque du Soleil.* Not because of its miniscule size (which was nice), nor because of its fabulous location at the top of Regent Park (which was nice), but mostly because of the fact that the animals were just plain SASSY. All three of them. Check out the way they posed for my camera:

This is one I like to call 'Another Day in the Jail Yard.' You can tell he's torn between the mess hall and the weight room, and wishes someone would start a pick-up game of baseball:

This was taken in the Butterfly Sanctuary. Initially you would think (as I did), 'A butterfly sanctuary! How charming! A hot and steamy little rainforest with hundreds of butterflies fluttering around you!' But then you go in and find yourself sweating and surrounding by all of these darting, flying creatures, who were doing their best summertime-moth impressions, and it was actually a bit alarming. All of the swooping and diving around your face is far from relaxing or magical, and you find yourself--as you instinctively duck and jerk back--wishing for a flyswatter. Needless to say, I loved it.

And last, but not least, we have this guy, who I think by his expression needs no introduction:

And the one who stole the show:
This cat, while perhaps not a 'technical' zoo animal, was prowling the enclosure of the above bird. He stalked about the tall grass, eyeing his prey, and totally plotting a coup. He was by far my favorite exhibit of the entire day. One, it was the first time I saw an animal doing anything that was remotely natural, and two, you've got to respect a domestic housecat playing predator to such a wildly exotic and possibly aggressive bird. I couldn't help but secretly hope for some kind of live discovery channel action but alas, the wire mesh proved too much of a barrier, not to mention the bell around his neck (obviously his owner knows how he spends his days), so he could only lurk about threateningly, ruffling the bird's feathers.

And so concludes my tour! I would follow up with a recommendation, except, well...you've kinda seen it all right here.

*I'm lying to you. There is nothing in the world more entertaining than a show that ties midgets to giant balloons and sends them afloat.

A Condiment Conundrum

So forgive me while I COMPLETELY disregard photos altogether for a minute here and get on my Go America soapbox. One that I never actually knew existed until I got to this country and discovered this. Funny how you don't realize what's really important to you until you are deprived of it. For example, (climbing up on soapbox now), hot dog relish. This country has Heinz Ketchup (and dare I say, it's used even more here than in united-states-land). It even has French's American Mustard (if you don't have the courage to use the burn-your-nostril-hairs-Colman's). But one thing it does NOT have is hot dog relish. I KNOW. I know. It amazes me, too.

So cue last night: dear, sweet Katy texts me, 'Going to Trader Joe's! You want anything?' Instantly, 'RELISH!' And then, because she's an effing genius, she replies, 'Sweet or dill??' Now here is a girl after my own heart: she even knew to ask what type. (Sweet, of course.) I was thisclose to asking for hot dogs, too, at the risk of near-death from the lack of refrigerated mailing, because GET THIS (now about to stomp on soapbox): there is not a single producer of chemical-free hot dogs in England. I learned this from Whole Foods, where I went to find some organic ones. They didn't have any, and I found out (oh, yes, I asked) that the demand here isn't high enough to warrant importing them, so they had to find a domestic producer. And that's when they found out that there is not a single domestic producer of chemical-free hot dogs in all the land. Therefore, they cannot be sold at Whole Foods under their organic standard. Hence, no hot dogs at Whole Foods. Apparently some producers are willing to SPECIALLY MAKE them, but only if the sales are guaranteed to be at xyz figures. Which of course can't be done. Voila!

(Climbing off of soapbox now) Unfortunately, my craving is such that I'm willing to take the risk with the domestic, chemical-laden variety, if I can figure out where to find THOSE. Bring on the cancer, folks! Rona's got relish coming, and she needs a vessel...

Richard Curtis wants me.

Okay, so you know the screenwriter who did Love Actually, and Bridget Jones's Diary, and Notting Hill, and Four Weddings and a Funeral, and The Boat That Rocked, and, like, LOADS OF OTHER AWESOME STUFF BECAUSE HE'S THE GREATEST EFFING SCREENWRITER OF ALL TIME? Well, for my birthday (which is Saturday, so you still have time to send me gifts), HE SIGNED ONE OF HIS MOVIES FOR ME! See below for the kickin' cover. And I don't think I have to read much between the lines to know a love letter when I see one. It's pretty obvious we're going to get married and have loads of babies:

p.s. This good fortune befell me courtesy of THE COOLEST WOMAN EVER that I nanny for, who just * happens * to be a close and personal friend of Dick's.

p.p.s. I feel that we're close enough that I can call him Dick now.