redrover: (10 Lessons)

Arrived to archery this morning and decided to take advantage of the coaching session.

They corrected a few of my issues, including how I held my bow and my stance. So, all well and good.

Though I kept missing the boss (target). My arrows kept flying to the top right. My coach took me to where they'd landed (all in a line, in the same spot) and said, “Well, you're missing. But you're CONSISTENTLY missing!”

So I reached down to grab them and without thinking, I wiped them off with my palm.

Apparently, I'd missed the boss, but got a delightful bullseye right in some rabbit shit.


Went for a bike-ride to town. Had a couple of young boys ask me to sell them my bike, which is interesting for two reasons:

1. It's a rather expensive bike – and new. Unless they had 200 quid on them, I don't know what they expected.
2. It's a rather expensive ladies' bike. And obviously so, what with the flowers all over it.

We've been riding down to the end of High Street every Saturday and standing at the new and as-yet-unopened comic shop with our noses pressed to the glass. The depth of our nerdy behavior is astonishing.
redrover: (Space Pin-Up)

I loathe raisins. I think they are a vile blight on the face of the planet, caused by the breath of some foul hell-spawn with a twisted sense of humor which involves mummification of perfectly good fruit. My pathological hatred of raisins is rivaled only by my fear of bats.

I moved to the United Kingdom and discovered (a) Indian takeaway and (b) something delicious called Peshwari Naan.

My refusal to eat raisins made me completely unaware that they have varieties. Specifically, sultanas. When I tried peshwari naan, I thought to myself, My god, this is the pinnacle of culinary evolution!

And then a sultana fell out onto my plate and stared up at me. I stared back. I poked at it with a fork. I separated the naan to see if there were more. I had a conversation with myself:

"Oh. Oh, no. No. Is that a raisin? That looks like a raisin. Oh my god, that's a fucking raisin. Oh god. Maybe it's just a clump of coconut? NO! OH GOD. IT'S A RAISIN. I'VE BEEN EATING RAISINS."

I then ran to my laptop and googled sultanas just to be sure. Sultanas are, indeed, raisins.

And yet I still eat peshwari naan. If I don't think about it, it doesn't exist.

True hypocrisy.

The Swan

I joined an archery club. While waiting for shooting to begin, I got myself into a conversation with one of the other archers. He was telling me how he used to be on his Uni's rowing team. Well, I had very recently read an article about Princeton canceling their rowing sessions if swans got on the lake - specifically because swans are territorial and rather aggressive and dangerous, so I asked him about it.

They never cancel sessions because of swans. However, it is apparently illegal to do harm to swans in the UK. Or touch them at all. And one day, a swan landed on the back of his friend's boat. It began walking toward him, so he jumped in the water and swam to shore.

And watched his boat sail off with the swan aboard.

Swan piracy. It could happen to you.


Think of this as a public advisory:

I understand how exciting it is to meet someone from another country. I get it - because I practically die of joy when I meet a Brit and I live here. I think it's wonderful that your cousin's boss's husband lives in the States. I'm happy to talk to you about it, but be advised that I probably don't know them. Do you know everyone in Cambridgeshire? No, of course you don't.

And you're asking if I know some resident alien up in the frozen north. I'm from Florida, and while I have gotten around a good deal, it's to places like Disney World.

You see, the US is large. Huge, in fact. It is the hubcap to your 1p coin. And while I'm sure Oregon is very nice*, I have never been there, nor do I know your uncle. Hell, without a map in front of me, I have literally no idea where Oregon is. I think Portland might be the capital, but I was tempted to say Cleveland for a moment there.

*Is Oregon nice? I was previously aware that there was a trail and people die of dysentery on it. And now I know a Brit lives there.


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