I will be scolded for this entry.

I'm teaching my Mom how to use iTunes. I'm mainly doing this so that she can listen to all the podcasts I love and get her back to listening to NPR. (One of my favorite memories growing up was listening to All Things Considered on the kitchen radio while my Mom made salmon latkes or shepherd's pie or spaghetti and meatballs.) Steve Jobs and the rest of the people at Apple have done a very good job of keeping things simple and easy for their product users. But apparently, not easy enough for a 50-something woman who refuses to get an actual pet but fills her South Beach condo with metal, plastic, and stuffed animals to which her husband assigns names like Rusty (a metal dog), Pelly (a stuffed pelican), or Doug (a ceramic fish..."doug" is the phoenetic way of saying "fish" in Hebrew).

We're talking on the phone while I'm at work the other day....I mean.....we're talking on the phone the other day after I spent a long, grueling day filling out spreadsheets and TPS Reports....and I'm walking her through the steps of downloading iTunes, populating her music library, showing her how to log on to the iTunes Store, and assuring her that just because she has downloaded iTunes that her songs will NOT disappear from her WinAmp. Progress is being made. All her songs are now in her iTunes music library (though she's unsure of what some of them are and is hands down CONVINCED that Apple has furtively downloaded Middle Eastern sounding artists onto her computer without her knowledge) and I've successfully instructed her how to find podcasts online. But when I tell her to download NPR's weekly hilarious quiz show "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me," she says "No. It's too liberal." Something tells me she won't be subscribing to Obama's speeches podcast..... And yet, I somehow managed to coerce her into downloading The Onion's video podcast. Weird.

I tease my Mom about her (lack of) tech savviness, but she's actually pretty good about picking stuff up. She even emailed me that night to tell me that she really likes the streaming radio on iTunes, which I didn't even tell her about. Who knows if she'll continue to use iTunes (I will have to secretly uninstall WinAmp the next time I'm in Miami) or, gasp, attempt to put the new podcasts on her mp3 player like I told her to, but I'm glad she's at least open to trying something new. My father, however, is a different story. There is no hope for him. How can there be when his biggest computer accomplishment, according to my mother, is that "he Googles things now." I've also heard that 90% of his emails disappear. He'll be typing and then, from the other room, my Mom will hear "Janet! It disappeared again!"

I feel like there's a huge untapped market for technology targeted towards old people. (I'm not saying you're old, Mom.) But it can't require more than three mouse clicks. And it can't take longer than 10 seconds to boot up. And it can't ever break. Or run out of batteries. Or cuss. Or show nudity. Or support Democrats.

Still on a mission to singlehandedly bring back the side ponytail

You can't see it in this picture, but to the right is a Saint Bernard with a London Times in its mouth heading this way.

If this doesn't look like a relaxing summer afternoon to you, I don't know what would. (Okay maybe he could be eating an ice cream cone, but that would be overkill don't you think?)

A sign in Holland Park. If it were legal for a country to marry parks, I would be living in the land of Mr. and Mrs. Lovesparksalot. And Elton John would have sung at their civil partnership ceremony.

Here's a sign stating the obvious. Hidden on the left is a sign that says "TREE" with an arrow pointing to the right.

Here's what looks like a boring picture of old people...
The woman on the left is drinking some anti-oxidant pomegranate juice hoping it gets rid of her crows feet and finally makes her attractive to the 30 year old hunk in Corporate Accounting. The man in the blue sweater is talking about how his wife just spent £50,000 to renovate their kitchen which didn't need any sprucing up since she hasn't cooked a decent meal in her goddamn life. The woman in the yellow blazer is thinking that this 6th cup of wine won't be enough if he's going to keep talking about his whore of a wife and their kitchen. The man in the white jacket is thinking that it's been over 4 hours since he popped that blue pill and maybe he should consult his doctor. The couple on the right is talking about giraffes.
However, if you look closely, you will notice that on top of the brick wall is a blue blob. And wouldn't you know, that's a peacock!! They just roam free in Holland Park. It's amazing! (Not as amazing as old people's conversations, though.)

Photo Caption Results!!!

Runners Up:

- Scaramouche! Scaramouche! Can you do the fandago?

- Leonard: "En garde! Coule! Quarte! RIPOSTE!"
Mortimer: "I have to poop."

- Little is known of the fate of Aaron Burr, save the oft-quoted vow the controversial Founding Father once made to 'go down fighting.'

- Errol Flynn and Douglas Fairbanks, Jrs., The Golden Years

- My name is Inigo Montoya. You wet your pants while sitting in my barcalounger. Prepare to die.

- Az di bobe volt gehat beytsim volt zi geven mayn zeyde! (This one is from Brent...apparently he's going through a Yiddish phase.)


But I must declare Sylvia Mon the winner of this one (though really, the picture alone is a winner).
Her award-winning caption is:

- See, Rupert! I told you I'd poke Agnes one way or another.

Lunges are really not my favorite exercise in the world

This is the Churchill Arms pub in Kensington. I think that in order to technically be called a pub, there must be an exorbitant amount of plants taking over the facade of the building. Well done, Churchill Arms. Well done.

Our drinks at a Leicester Square pub. The story of my life.

Neon sign at the coffeeshop on Brick Lane. This place is great to go to on a Sunday morning to read the paper and do crossword puzzles while drinking orange and coconut tea (it tastes better than it sounds).

The 'dilly Circus tube.

Here's another Photo Caption Contest for you. This is a picture in this morning's Metro from an article about old people and fencing. So work your magic and send me your ideas. There is no excuse not to have any, either. I mean, just LOOK at this picture!!!

$4000 million

Sometimes it’s impossible to tell when you have that thin peanut shell stuck in your teeth.

I saw two people hug at work yesterday. I was totally shocked, which only leads me to conclude that people don’t hug in the office nearly enough as they should. That’s it. From now on I’m starting each day by hugging a different co-worker. Obviously I’m going to start with G; he’s cozy looking. I will keep you posted on how this goes…Mom and Dad, please have bail money ready.

Joke of the day: What is the difference between a well-dressed man and a tired dog?
One wears a suit, and the other? Just pants.

Nothing big and different in London for Easter. There are still bunnies, Cadbury Crème Eggs, and cellophane everywhere. Not to mention a severe lack of hamantaschen. But what is glorious about this holiday, other than the pastel M&M’s, is that we not only get Good Friday off, we also get “Easter Monday” as a bank holiday. Sidenote – I think I’m going to start using ‘good Friday!’ as an exclamation the same way I’m trying to incorporate ‘sweet potatoes!’ into my daily vocabulary as a phrase of delight.

Did anyone else have an electric blue spandex unitard that they insisted on wearing in public at all times growing up? No? Just me? Okay…just checking.

Corduroys are awesome. But they would be a whole lot awesomer if they didn’t make that swish-swish sound every time I walk somewhere.

Yesterday my company threw a welcome lunch in honor of the London office consolidation. I thought it was going to be a sit-down event but it turned out to be a socializing, mosey-ing, walk around type of deal. But the best part, other than the cake, was the finger sandwiches. They even cut the crusts off! It was all very British. (I didn’t really socialize, either. Everyone looked too prim and proper in their suits and whatnot and I had too many sandwiches to eat.)

I think I need to start hanging out with terrorists more. It’s really hard to get a cell phone without some sort of proof of residency. So how do those terrorists do it? I’ll bet the shoe bomber never had to show a utility bill to get unlimited text messages…

Apparently, a dead giveaway for an American in London is a Nalgene bottle.

I’m pretty sure I was the only one at last night’s symphony concert who still had all their own teeth.

Am I too all over the place with my thoughts? I try to pick a good topic but then I get distracted and move on to other things. I mean, I guess I could elaborate on all the old people’s teeth but I’m guessing it wouldn’t be all that enthralling. Well, maybe to some it would be, but those aren’t the type of people I want to be friends with anyway. Sorry.