Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Another non-victory
Well, it was another 8th place finish for Rosie and I at the movie quiz tonight. There were tons of people there (it's not nearly as nerdy as it sounds), so we didn't come in last place, but the defeat was extra bitter because the top three teams won a bottle of wine and the top two won their choice of DVDs. I nailed the film noir round, but really quite bombed the sequels round. I should have known that the sequel to Cat People was not More Cat People.
The other day I saw a show on television about Scottish people living in Seattle. Watching all the footage of my beloved city made me realize that I didn't live there anymore. I tried to imagine what this program looked like to the vast majority of people who were watching it, marveling that something so familiar could be on the other side of the planet. I mean, I knew I lived in Scotland and everything, but somehow I was convinced that Scotland was really just Oregon. And they don't make you pay sales tax over there either, so really it's not that much of a stretch.
No, I live in Aberdeen, Scotland, which is part of the United Kingdom, which is part of Europe. I live in Europe. NO, SERIOUSLY, ERIC. England is my Oregon. I'm surrounded by people who grew up completely differently than I did. A lot of times this is easy to forget because the things we have in common are the most visible. When I walk down the street I see people who wear generally the same kinds of clothes (granted, sometimes it's more generally than others), talk about the same kinds of things, have the same kinds of jobs, have families and friends and eat dinner and put on jackets when it's cold out.
Of course, as I've mentioned, they also drive on the other side of the road, use monetary units which occasionally make me cry inside ("I'm carrying around 40 extra pounds") and they have an inexplicable hatred of gingers (redheads). And wait, I want to talk about the "in" hairstyles here. I have chilling news for those of you who are American, because I have a feeling it may end up stateside sooner than we expect. THE MULLET IS "IN." They don't call it that, but a rose by any other name is still a fucking mullet. It's soooo in. And the thing is, I can see it as a logical extension of popular American male hairstyles. Already, we are suffering through a revolting comeback of the '70s shag or whatever it's called when they just let it grow into a greasy mass of hair that appears to be consuming the skull of its host. Long hair in the back is already allowed again. It's only a matter of time.
A few weeks ago, the four boys who just moved into the flat below us came up to introduce themselves and one of them had something on his head that looked like Carol Brady meets Hurricane Ivan. I felt threatened by it. But other than that they were nice guys. I sort of which I hadn't been bundled up in a duvet watching my soaps at the time, but they sort of caught us off-guard.
Tune in tomorrow for details on my first history lecture.
The other day I saw a show on television about Scottish people living in Seattle. Watching all the footage of my beloved city made me realize that I didn't live there anymore. I tried to imagine what this program looked like to the vast majority of people who were watching it, marveling that something so familiar could be on the other side of the planet. I mean, I knew I lived in Scotland and everything, but somehow I was convinced that Scotland was really just Oregon. And they don't make you pay sales tax over there either, so really it's not that much of a stretch.
No, I live in Aberdeen, Scotland, which is part of the United Kingdom, which is part of Europe. I live in Europe. NO, SERIOUSLY, ERIC. England is my Oregon. I'm surrounded by people who grew up completely differently than I did. A lot of times this is easy to forget because the things we have in common are the most visible. When I walk down the street I see people who wear generally the same kinds of clothes (granted, sometimes it's more generally than others), talk about the same kinds of things, have the same kinds of jobs, have families and friends and eat dinner and put on jackets when it's cold out.
Of course, as I've mentioned, they also drive on the other side of the road, use monetary units which occasionally make me cry inside ("I'm carrying around 40 extra pounds") and they have an inexplicable hatred of gingers (redheads). And wait, I want to talk about the "in" hairstyles here. I have chilling news for those of you who are American, because I have a feeling it may end up stateside sooner than we expect. THE MULLET IS "IN." They don't call it that, but a rose by any other name is still a fucking mullet. It's soooo in. And the thing is, I can see it as a logical extension of popular American male hairstyles. Already, we are suffering through a revolting comeback of the '70s shag or whatever it's called when they just let it grow into a greasy mass of hair that appears to be consuming the skull of its host. Long hair in the back is already allowed again. It's only a matter of time.
A few weeks ago, the four boys who just moved into the flat below us came up to introduce themselves and one of them had something on his head that looked like Carol Brady meets Hurricane Ivan. I felt threatened by it. But other than that they were nice guys. I sort of which I hadn't been bundled up in a duvet watching my soaps at the time, but they sort of caught us off-guard.
Tune in tomorrow for details on my first history lecture.
