Monday, February 07, 2005
5 months
As of today it's been exactly 5 months since I left my house in Redmond. Every 7th of the month I think about how long I've been away from home and how the idea of being out of the country for more than a few weeks used to blow my mind. And in the back of my mind, I'm always a little excited that I'm this close to being here longer than Laura spent in Germany back in high school. (If we were being fair, we would make adjustments to account for the fact that she was a thousand times braver for going when she was 16 years old and living in a foreign-language country. But we're not.)
I forgot to mention one other thing about my weekend in Edinburgh: rugby. Rugby is supposed to be what manly men are into, isn't it? Do these manly men not realize that rugby is in fact gay porn? You should have seen me when I walked in on the girls watching it at the hotel. I almost fell over. These men had some prize-winning bottoms, yo. And they make a living by wearing tiny little shorts and getting on top of each other. Consider me henceforth a rugby enthusiast.
Speaking of sex, I had a conversation with Becca this weekend that summed up the sheer openness of British television: "I was watching this program on swingers the other night--" "Oh! I watched the same one!" "Really? The one with the old people?" "No, the one I saw had lots of fetish-wear." "I think the old people in my program were into that." "I saw a different one about people who were into fetish stuff, but they weren't old." Last night Rosie and I watched a really interesting documentary series about the sex industry and learned about straight guys who make gay porn because it pays about a hundred times more. I am going to be so, so sad when I have to go back to American TV.
I forgot to mention one other thing about my weekend in Edinburgh: rugby. Rugby is supposed to be what manly men are into, isn't it? Do these manly men not realize that rugby is in fact gay porn? You should have seen me when I walked in on the girls watching it at the hotel. I almost fell over. These men had some prize-winning bottoms, yo. And they make a living by wearing tiny little shorts and getting on top of each other. Consider me henceforth a rugby enthusiast.
Speaking of sex, I had a conversation with Becca this weekend that summed up the sheer openness of British television: "I was watching this program on swingers the other night--" "Oh! I watched the same one!" "Really? The one with the old people?" "No, the one I saw had lots of fetish-wear." "I think the old people in my program were into that." "I saw a different one about people who were into fetish stuff, but they weren't old." Last night Rosie and I watched a really interesting documentary series about the sex industry and learned about straight guys who make gay porn because it pays about a hundred times more. I am going to be so, so sad when I have to go back to American TV.
