“Anyone who thinks the pen is mightier than the sword has not been stabbed with both.”
― Lemony Snicket
Yesterday a new acquaintance asked what I did and I told her I was a freelance writer.
“Ooh, that sounds posh!” she exclaimed.
It was all I could do to keep from exploding with laughter. I work hard, I love what I do, I hope to do even more of it. But if it were up to me and my pen, dear minions, we would starve. Sex and the City has much to answer for in this respect.
“So, you told me to make sure you worked on your novel today. But if you make cookies, I may look the other way.”
“You’re useless as conscience or encouragement if you’re susceptible to bribery, you know.
“So? I like cookies.”
– Jeff and C.
I sincerely hope Jeff never runs for office. For a number of reasons, but apart from anything else, his moral center is shockingly lax when faced with baked goods. I feel this could present a pretty significant danger to the community if in government.
Yesterday was Jeff’s birthday, he’s solidly late 20s now! Yesterday we did dinner at Scoff and Banter to celebrate, tomorrow we’re going to see this to continue celebrating, which we’ve been looking forward to for month (and had to book months in advance to avoid paying a kidney each). We tend to stretch birthdays out a bit, sans shame. That’s our weekend, what are yours looking like, ducklings? Here are your links!
I have, as you know a deep and abiding interest in all things cheese related.
The Lady sums it up. Lady Edith, who, by the way American minions who have not already pirated it, is killing it on the style front this series in Downtown Abbey would approve. More I cannot on the DA front, but that I have opinions on this season.
This book sounds fascinating, I’m adding it to the To Read list at once!
Ralph Lauren has released images for the Winter 2014 Olympic uniforms. I’m not loving the trousers but I think the coats are great.
Modern dandy portraits. Very nice indeed.
A couple of week ago, Mozart. This week, Beethoven.
This photo is making the social media rounds and I thought it worth sharing again. Caption: “A little break from our crying child. Once I took this picture I teared up with the realization of what my wife was going through.
Someday it will swallow the solar system and engulf it in blazing fury…but until then it is stunning, isn’t it?
This group concept (though sounding, as one commenter rather hilariously put it, a bit like The Hunger Games), actually makes a lot of sense to me. As an American citizen who grew up both internationally and all over the country, I’ve often found the best way to explain the US to some outsiders is to portray the states and the broader areas they are grouped in as something like different countries. Complete with dialects, cultural priorities, and in some places racial and ethnic majorities and minorities. Apart from anything else, it’s a good way to explain why our government is as dysfunctional as it can be. When you stop thinking of the US as one country but several trying (or sometimes refusing) to work together, a lot of things about it make more sense.
These photos – I want to go to there!
“I’m cool dad, that’s my thang. I’m hip, I surf the web, I text. LOL: laugh out loud, OMG: oh my god, WTF: why the face.”
– Phil Dunphy, Modern Family
The US has Black Friday, that day of dubious renown, to kick off the Christmas season. Here in London, we have the lighting of the annual displays on Regent Street. Every year thousands crowd to watch the lights turn on. Usually there is some kind of sponsor (this year a film) and plenty of performers. Goodness knows I didn’t see much besides the spines of other people – drat my height! – but we got to listen to Leona Lewis and Passenger before several guests of honor took their places to throw the switch, including actor Ty Burrell.
…and nothing happened.
They had to try three times, the last after a bit of an awkward delay when they turned off all the large screens and shuffled around the stage a bit awkwardly. That part I did get to see, since I found a handy curb.
Luckily they did get it all to work eventually, but I rather like the idea of Phil Dunphy doing something to make the lighting a bit more difficult.
“Empty?! You took all the cookies!”
“They were crying to get out of the jar… Cookies get claustrophobia too, you know!”
― Charles M. Schulz
Britain, I’m devoted to you, but the size of your packages of baking chocolate chunks leaves something to be desired.
You. Vanilla extract with actual vanilla seeds. You can stay.
“Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.”
― Roger Miller
Just a few this week because it’s a very blustery and rainy day and I’m behind on projects that must get done before the weekend. Jeff and I will take but a quick evening break tonight to wander down Regent Street, now positively awash in yuletide goodness. Since we’re past bonfire night and Thanksgiving is rather up in the air, it’s seasonally appropriate. Next up, Christmas carols! …Also, I should probably get shopping…
A while back we brought you Star Wars as done by Shakespeare, I’ll now just leave this right there.
Columns – written and otherwise.
Thoughts on writing and rewriting from The Lady. Helpful in trying to produce a first draft.
Twitter feed find, if the Tudors tweeted. (Woof, say that five times fast.)
This headline. Guys, this headline! (#AndMyAxe)
To say that words fail me would be inadequate. On the other hand, a guy from the state I just moved is achieving a degree of internet notoriety for offering $5,000 to anyone who introduces him to the woman he eventually marries. Love is not dead!
Far overdue, but good!
My retail temptation store has followed me across the Atlantic. Is nowhere safe?!
“Thanksgiving dinners take eighteen hours to prepare. They are consumed in twelve minutes.”
― Erma Bombeck
An admittedly American conundrum. (Among many, apparently.)
Jeff’s work Christmas party is scheduled for Thanksgiving evening and everyone is “highly encouraged” to attend. Spouses aren’t invited. I have thoughts on this, both as to the scheduling (Christmas parties in November violate my sense of order) and the no partners policy.*
I also have a reservation for dinner at The Mayflower – because that was the most on-the-nose Thanksgiving I could possibly have come up with and I thought it would be fun to eat in a pub that commemorates the group that kicked off the holiday to begin with. Very apropos, if not slightly meta.
So. Who can I befriend in less than a month that will go to a major holiday dinner with me and not find it weird? Or do I just ditch the reservation and spend take myself out to a fab day and night on the town and go utterly native by forgoing the only real American holiday? Which I’m not opposed to, but if left to my own devices I feel I should at least do something interesting, but what? Advise me, minions!
*Half of me understands the financial desire to keep numbers down, the other half of me gives this policy serious side eye.
“Flora knew her hunting gentry. They were what the Americans, bless them! call dumb.”
– Stella Gibbons, Cold Comfort Farm
After participating in that great British tradition of fireworks in the park, we got to participate in that other great British tradition, the insane bottleneck queuing of people trying to leave said park after said fireworks.
As we shuffled along like penguins on a march, Jeff and I got squished up against a number of people but spent the longest time in close contact with a set of harried parents. Harried because they were outnumbered by their collective posse of children who were behaving, shall I say, less than delightfully. Funny to watch, but I imagine much less funny to wrangle.
A couple of these cherubs were engaged in a slapping war, another pair were shoving the youngest children around, but the most hilarious were a small boy and girl (I’d guess five years old or so) trading insults. Luckily after the following outburst we were shoved in different directions because I don’t think I could have held in my laughter much longer! The hostilities (and their volubility) had intensified pretty dramatically.
“You’re dumb.
“Well you’re stupid.”
“No! You’re a twit.”
“You’re a git.”
“You’re an idiot!”
“You’re a ****!”
“Well you’re…you’re American!
“Tyrone, you know how much I love watching you work, but I’ve got my country’s 500th anniversary to plan, my wedding to arrange, my wife to murder and Guilder to frame for it; I’m swamped.”
– The Princess Bride (1987)
There’s going to be a bit more microblogging going down here at Small Dog HQ in the near future. First of all, I like blogging and I don’t like it when I let if fall by the wayside. It’s fun, it forces me to take pictures, that hopeless bane of my existence, and Small Dog minions are the best minions to interact with. But I’m also in the middle of job hunting, an amped freelance schedule, and writing a novel (like everyone else and their dog this month). Therefore, some posts are going to have shorten up.
With that in mind, I was typing frantically away at my murder mystery and having a grand old time when I hit one of those stupid snags that only happens when you’re on a roll. My brain froze trying to name a street in a fictional town in an unnamed state. Yes, I’m a bit sheepish about it too. Anyway, I called out to Jeff who was in the other room, “I need common street names!”
“On it,” he said obligingly.
Odd requests without context make up a large part of our marriage.
Two seconds later he was laughing.
“Ready for this? Most common street names in order of use:
2nd is first
3rd is second
1st is third
4th is fourth.”
America, dear ducklings, is bonkers.
“What a fuss people make about fidelity!” exclaimed Lord Henry.
― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
It was the weekend, we were placing our regular curry delivery order (like a good pair of Londoners) when we were faced with a conundrum. A new curry place had announced its opening via flier earlier in the week and we debated whether trying it out might be a good idea or not. The prices were comparable, as was the distance, the menu was largely the same, etc. Decisions decisions. In the end we decided to stick with the tried and true, if for no other reason than they have our number on file and don’t even have to ask for our address anymore.
This was tucked into the unassuming brown paper bag that showed up.
I WILL NEVER FALTER AGAIN.
Small Dog Syndrome 