21. In the prime of her life.
"Friends are the most important thing she's got / And she don't need much to get by"
Hello. I am interrupting my tryptophan hangover and Nick Hornby book to tell you of recent goings-on in London and my life.
Yesterday was Thanksgiving. Or at least it was for you in America. Here in England, we called it "Thursday, bloke". We decided to celebrate nonetheless by dressing up and going to our Medieval Lit professor's house up in East Finchley for a big turkey dinner.
Let me interject here, beloved reader, with some necessary exposition. I like food a lot. My hypoglycemia, an adolescence spent swimming, my father's ultramarathon-running genetics, and general acting up have left me with a bizarre metabolism that only slows down as it approaches the speed of light. I eat. A lot. Frequently. Since about 9th grade, Thanksgiving has evolved into a sort of Passover in reverse for me. This is what I do. This is who I am.
Dr. Bankert managed to fit an impressively plump turkey into her inadequately small ("British" is actually slang for "inadequately small") oven. She made some quite delicious stuffing and two vats of finely mashed potatos. I had 4 generous helpings. I made a tactical error with the inclusion of several large rolls which are notorious for expanding in one's belly, thus making one feel artificially full. I, of course, am beyond such puerile trickery. Working through the pain of stuffedness is a virtue, I've discovered. There were two distinct and seperate belt loosenings, one wiping of sweat from my brow, and even a short session of reclined Roman-style eating that both Greg Landrum and my high school Latin teacher Ms. Travis both informed me can be helpful in moments of gluttony.
Turkey-drunk for several hours after, I bided the time before the inevitable leftovers meal on the couch playing the Arbitrary Better Game. You've played before, haven't you?
Coke or Pepsi?
Crystal Pepsi or New Coke?
Cuddling or the Stations of the Cross?
This morning (approximately 1:30 pm) I woke. Apparently, I was up until 5 am reading Edgar Allan Poe short stories and listening to Supertramp. This is what Turkey-drunkeness can do to you folks. A cautionary tale.
So today, I am feasting upon even more leftovers and reading the aforementioned Nick Hornby novel while listening to the Appleseed Cast in my headphones. Erin Powers and her Towson pal Mike are going to be in town tomorrow, so I will likely be hanging out with them.
I really need to call home. I didn't call the parents yesterday 'cause I was so busy gorging and digesting. I also haven't spoken to a bunch of pals in a long time. I missed Johnny's and Nicky's birthdays because I'm here. I will see them all real soon though. And you, too, lovely reader, for I will be back in America come the 12th of December. Just in time for: Dance Dance Revolution at Say Cheese! Pizza, Margaritas at La Paz, Christmas/New Years bar crawl with my lovely sisters, National Jivenut Day, hangings out at the Blue Elephant with MJ, Sheetz, issue 8 of Joss Whedon's Astonishing X-Men, and VERBATIM.
I'll have a bunch of new pictures to post after the weekend.
I hope your holiday was as nice as mine. I hope you've got as much to be thankful for as do I.
Hello. I am interrupting my tryptophan hangover and Nick Hornby book to tell you of recent goings-on in London and my life.
Yesterday was Thanksgiving. Or at least it was for you in America. Here in England, we called it "Thursday, bloke". We decided to celebrate nonetheless by dressing up and going to our Medieval Lit professor's house up in East Finchley for a big turkey dinner.
Let me interject here, beloved reader, with some necessary exposition. I like food a lot. My hypoglycemia, an adolescence spent swimming, my father's ultramarathon-running genetics, and general acting up have left me with a bizarre metabolism that only slows down as it approaches the speed of light. I eat. A lot. Frequently. Since about 9th grade, Thanksgiving has evolved into a sort of Passover in reverse for me. This is what I do. This is who I am.
Dr. Bankert managed to fit an impressively plump turkey into her inadequately small ("British" is actually slang for "inadequately small") oven. She made some quite delicious stuffing and two vats of finely mashed potatos. I had 4 generous helpings. I made a tactical error with the inclusion of several large rolls which are notorious for expanding in one's belly, thus making one feel artificially full. I, of course, am beyond such puerile trickery. Working through the pain of stuffedness is a virtue, I've discovered. There were two distinct and seperate belt loosenings, one wiping of sweat from my brow, and even a short session of reclined Roman-style eating that both Greg Landrum and my high school Latin teacher Ms. Travis both informed me can be helpful in moments of gluttony.
Turkey-drunk for several hours after, I bided the time before the inevitable leftovers meal on the couch playing the Arbitrary Better Game. You've played before, haven't you?
Coke or Pepsi?
Crystal Pepsi or New Coke?
Cuddling or the Stations of the Cross?
This morning (approximately 1:30 pm) I woke. Apparently, I was up until 5 am reading Edgar Allan Poe short stories and listening to Supertramp. This is what Turkey-drunkeness can do to you folks. A cautionary tale.
So today, I am feasting upon even more leftovers and reading the aforementioned Nick Hornby novel while listening to the Appleseed Cast in my headphones. Erin Powers and her Towson pal Mike are going to be in town tomorrow, so I will likely be hanging out with them.
I really need to call home. I didn't call the parents yesterday 'cause I was so busy gorging and digesting. I also haven't spoken to a bunch of pals in a long time. I missed Johnny's and Nicky's birthdays because I'm here. I will see them all real soon though. And you, too, lovely reader, for I will be back in America come the 12th of December. Just in time for: Dance Dance Revolution at Say Cheese! Pizza, Margaritas at La Paz, Christmas/New Years bar crawl with my lovely sisters, National Jivenut Day, hangings out at the Blue Elephant with MJ, Sheetz, issue 8 of Joss Whedon's Astonishing X-Men, and VERBATIM.
I'll have a bunch of new pictures to post after the weekend.
I hope your holiday was as nice as mine. I hope you've got as much to be thankful for as do I.