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Tonight Jon and I talked a lot about work stuff.  And it got me thinking.  What do you think it would be like to be a CEO of a company or someone who is pretty high up in the org chart?  Other than having people quiver when they get in the elevator with you, your life has got to be pretty cool.  Specifically related to emails.  I mean, I freak out and start sweating when I send emails to people two levels above me, let alone a CEO or managing director.  How cool would it be if you knew that every email and spreadsheet you receive has been reviewed a million times for typos, alignment issues, and proper page numbers?  

How many cute kitten picture forwards do you think JD (CEO) gets every day?  Do you think he's tallied 577 years of bad luck for not passing on an email about a friend dying of cancer?  And does he get the same spam emails trying to sell him electronic products that I do every day?  

How many people have meant to email Helen an email about that hot guy in the tax department but instead have sent it to H (the second in command) instead?  Did they send an apology email?  Did they get fired?

All I'm saying is that my life would be a lot more efficient if every email and spreadsheet I was sent received the CEO treatment.  No longer would I be preoccupied with finding the "they're their there" typos or worrying that when I print I'll get 18 pages instead of 1 because the page setup isn't set to "fit to 1" and in landscape mode.  

Don't say Haman.

Is it a full moon?  It's got to be.  Because people are friggin' crazy today.  Last week at work I obsessively flipped between People.com and Lifehacker.com to pass away the time.  I was just bored to tears.  And all of a sudden it's like I have no time to breathe.  People in Edinburgh are yelling at me in emails, people in Luxembourg are laughing so hard on conference calls that they are snorting, and people in Boston are so stressed they're reclining in their chairs and splaying their limbs everywhere.  It's all very distracting.

Chris Wyman is convinced that when Patrick Swayze dies, they will play a marathon of his movies.  ALL his movies....not just the one good one.  Which means that I will have to suffer through Point Break.  Again.  I, on the other hand, am pretty sure that TNT will only play Dirty Dancing.  There's no denying it; it was a strange conversation to have.

Yesterday I went over to Theresa's house around 2:30 and left around 10:30.  It's weird, but I think we paid the most attention to each other in the car to and from her house.  When we went grocery shopping, we were concerned with why Stop & Shop doesn't carry Peter Pan peanut butter and whether or not to buy fat free mozzarella cheese or 2%.  Then, when we got to her apartment, I was concerned with uploading my video to youtube (not successful) and she was preoccupied with taking a shower.  And then we watched some tv while both playing on our own computers.  So, not really paying attention to the tv or each other then either.  We kinda glanced up as we ate our pizza, but not really.  It's amazing how 8 hours can feel like only 2 when you're not paying attention to anything.  This is why I feel like my weekend hasn't started yet.  I want a do-over.

Now it's 8:08.  I should be out listening to the Megillah and twirling my noisemaker while eating hamantashen.  But I'm pretty sure sitting here drinking decaf coffee while checking blogs counts the same.  Right?  Right, God?  

The Special People Club. Being...well, special.

Josh came into town last weekend.  Hilarity ensued.

A posting full of cats

Walter attacking Harvey attacking a trash can.

Harvey staring intently at nothing.

Their stares are intense.
Walter eating out of a cat.
Snugglemuffin.

Ear buds are a very nice item, BUT - - if you were about to spend $100, then I would much prefer a kitchen mat

I'm not sure who came up with this restaurant name, but I have a feeling it might have been a bird disguised as a human.

Bags? Excuse me?

I suppose it's normal to see a Princess Di postcard in a bicycle basket in London, but that didn't prevent me from stopping in my tracks and taking a picture.
On my way to Southbank on Sunday I crossed the Waterloo Bridge. As I was walking, I looked right and this was the view. It was at that moment that I realized how lucky I have been to have spent the last 6 months living in one of the greatest cities in the world. I mean, there I was just taking a walk and my neighborhood was Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, and the Millenium Eye. It was definitely a surreal moment.

I'm secretly the reason behind A-Rod's divorce

Living abroad for essentially the past year has shown me what a prudish, hypocritical country America is when it comes to censorship. There are prime time shows on network channels in America that I get embarrassed for while watching with my parents, teenagers wearing ridiculously skimpy clothes (no wonder pregnancy runs rampant), and video games violent enough to gross out this Sopranos fan. And yet there was such a brouhaha over those Legal Seafoods T ads in Boston. (For those of you who don't know about this, the restaurant Legal Seafoods posted "fresh" fish advertisements on the sides of subway trains such as "Hey lady, I've seen smaller noses on a swordfish," "This trolley gets around more than your sister," and "This conductor has a face like a halibut." T employees complained about the latter ad and said it was offensive.) So when I see advertisements in London such as the AussieBum one below, I can only shake my head and think that it'll be another 20 years before something like this would appear on Newbury Street.

Last Sunday I did a lot of walking around parts of the city I've never been to. This was really fun, but would have been even more enjoyable had it not been raining the whole damn time.

Worn out road.
Sunday afternoon I went to the Bossa Nova festival on Southbank. I was all excited to eat some delicious Brazilian food, but all I found was chicken wrapped in triangular dough pockets and deep-fried; it didn't look all that appetizing. I did manage to see some B-list British celebrity, though, so that was exciting.
This dude braved the Thames shore all in the name of sand sculpting. Gross. (3 hours later it was covered in water when the tides turned.)

The best part of the festival was the free concert Nouvelle Vague put on. I heard about these guys a couple months ago. They're a band from France who mainly do cover songs but revamped with a bossa nova beat underneath. They're incredible and I'm in love with them.

Captain Zoom should totally sue for copyright infringement

The second half of Saturday I spent at The Big Day Out in Whittington Park in Islington, some sort of fair for families. I thought it was going to be way more exciting than it was, but this picture of Mr. Boom, One Man Band From The Moon was about as exciting as it got.

I don't know if I sent an image of this one already, but I finally managed to take a picture of Banksy's latest work off Oxford Street. The greatest thing about this one is that there's a huge CCTV camera immediately to the right of where he painted.

The Freddie Mercury statue at the Dominion Theatre where We Will Rock You has been playing for something like 7 years. I have to say that the Freddie Mercury statue I saw in Montreaux Switzerland was way cooler. And not just because it wasn't surrounded by hordes of high school kids on a field day.

On Sunday morning I went to the Good Food Festival also taking place in Islington. This too was rather disappointing. The only good thing about it was a huge herb stand that would have been a jackpot if I cooked at all. What do you think this tastes like though? Tender Vittles with a hint of toothpaste?

Ah, the Nice Green Van of organic and fairtrade ice cream. The choices are...limited.

Not that there's anything wrong with that

The first event I went to this weekend was the London Pride Parade. Surprisingly, it wasn't nearly as good as the parade in Boston. But of course, there were some fantastic costumes and some hideous costumes. So here are some pictures guaranteed to make my parents cringe.

Oh my god these guys were so adorable. And the dachsunds were cute too. (zing)

I have no idea how they managed to walk all the way to Trafalgar Square without those things falling off. Nice tiaras, huh?

The only way I knew those guys weren't my dad was the fact that my dad got rid of his rainbow suspenders and tie-dye tank tops when he stopped being a hippie in 1987. (Gah! Mom, the dude on the left really looks like him, doesn't he?!?!?!)

I would put up a caption contest for this one, but I feel like it's just too easy. (Notice Wonder "Woman" swinging a whip around her head.)

The highlight of the parade for me happened before it even started. Sir Ian McKellen walked up to a parade marshal right in front of me and asked where he was supposed to be (the answer being leading at the front of the pack). Immediately after he left, the girl turned to her friend and squealed, "Oh my god! I just talked to Gandalf!"

John Candy, Paul Shaffer, Alex Trebek, Mike Myers, Barenaked ladies

Well, like I said, yesterday was Canada Day. London celebrated by organizing a day-long-shindig at Trafalgar Square. I made it there after work just in time to see everyone drinking Moosehead beer.

A fantastic t-shirt. Of course, I had to say it in my head three times before I actually got it.
Something for the fellas....
And something for the ladies....
This woman is texting "Yeah, I'm wearing the flag in my hair. No one is talking to me. What the hell?"
Bacon bap, bison egg burger, HOT chocolate, curd cheese, and a misspelled 'poutine'...I don't know what to make fun of first.

Abe Froman, Sausage King of Chicago

So here's something amusing. As you may know, advertisements are everywhere in London and double decker buses are certainly no exception. This picture shows the ad for the new Will Smith movie, Hancock. The first time I saw this I thought, "Someone has put something on Will's lip to make it look like he has herpes. Well, that's kinda funny I suppose. Serves 'em right for plastering such a huge picture of his face on a bus." But then I saw the same circle thingy on another Hancock bus. And that's when I thought, "Wow. They got that one too. That is dedication to the vandalism cause." But when I didn't see ANY Hancock buses without the STD-resembling circle, I started to wonder if there was something flawed with my thinking. So I started checking out other ads, and lo and behold, that circle was on all of them. (Unfortunately for the model, placed in a very embarrassing place on the Armani underwear ads.) You would think that the advertising people would take this bus "nubbin" into account when designing their public transportation ads. I'm just saying.

Further down the fence is a sign that says "IMPOLITE NOTICE - LOCK YOUR MOTHERFUCKING BIKE TO THIS MOTHERFUCKING RAILING AND YOU'RE DEAD, MOTHERFUCKER"

If I had all the money in the world I would buy this truck for my niece, Chana...she absolutely loves trucks. She also loves to wear flannel shirts, smoke Marlboro reds, listen to Loretta Lynn, and be referred to as Large Marge.

The back wall of a butcher shop. First of all, that's a lot of plastic bags. Not very eco-friendly are we, Mister Animal Slaughterer? Second of all, I'm pretty sure that if you open the tape deck of that boombox, you'll find a Culture Club tape.

I have no funny quip about this one. I just like the picture.

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.)

If I hustle, by Monday, I might even make it to Rhode Island

No short jokes, please. Also, it's been quite awhile since I've seen an adult do this pose, and I feel like I'm due for a showing.

I'm telling you. I could spend another 6 months in this city and still find new parks to explore every weekend. They just love their grass and flowers here. This one was found in Regent's Park.
If you go to a park in America, you might see a pick-up game of football, baseball, or frisbee. If you go to a park in London, you will definitely see a pick-up game of soccer and cricket. And kite flying, naturally. (I guess the Let's Go Fly A Kite song from Mary Poppins wasn't as random as I thought.)

Jamie Lynn Spears' baby's daddy is a pipe layer. I am not making that up.

Not too much going on. And so a couple snippets will have to suffice on this going-to-be-excruciatingly-long Friday.

I went to see a showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show at an outside venue near Tower Bridge this week. It was the first time I had been to an audience participation show, but it sure as heck won't be the last. Except next time I'll be dressing up; now I just have to decide whether to wear a gold sequined hat, a ratty maid outfit, or a corset with garter straps.

Yesterday I overheard someone at work saying they had made a "school boy error." I was left wondering if this meant they had blinded someone with a slingshot, pulled a girl's pigtails, or hid a frog in the teacher's desk.

Like I said, it's been slow going. In the meantime, here's a picture of G's desk to keep you entertained. (Please pay special attention to the "figurines" on his monitor stand.)