Ee by gum

Shut up. It still counts as this week, even though I blogged last Sunday that I would blog this past week.

So here's the list of stories I need to blog about:
Movies (January '12)
Visiting Emma (March '12)
Visiting NC (March '12)
Flying to Colorado (March '12)
Colorado (March '12)
Serbia (May '12)
Getting home from Serbia (May '12)
Exam answers (June/July '12)
The Opening Ceremony of the Olympics (July '12)
The Olympics in general (July/August '12)
My new house (August '12)
Music (January - September '12)

So with that list in mind I'll start with my visit to the dentist this week. (Leave it.)

I have had that nightmare that your teeth fall out and it is horrible because I like my teeth. When I was at summer camp, I got hit in the mouth by a tree branch that someone was moving. I know, I don't know quite how it happened either. But I do know, even today, what my first words were afterwards: 'Are my teeth all still there?' Thankfully they were. What appeared over the next hours was a bruise on my chin the size of China. (Which is not to say I've got a chin the size of China, but that the bruise was massive.)

So I like my teeth and they are surprising good for all the Coke I drink. I didn't get a filling until I was 28. Actually, I may have been 29, I can't remember, but I know it was after Singapore. I have a couple more now, but all in all they're not bad.

Up to August, I'd only ever had one dentist. My entire life only one person had ever looked at my teeth. I never needed a dentist in NC or Singapore. But she retired and closed her surgery last year. I was beyond sad because I trusted her and I liked that she knew my teeth and knew exactly what had been done. Her children were about my age, and Peter had gone to YF at the same time as me, so we used to catch up on what we were all doing. Knowing I was a teacher, she'd ask me about the Transfer Test and its merits. That's when I made it a policy never to disagree with someone who's about to mess with your teeth.

I've started going to a new dentist now and it's different. Firstly, she's young. Like younger than me. And she has a dental hygienist so rather than Ms. McVeigh just having a look in silence and then telling me what needs done, this girl talks to her dental hygienist and gets her to...pass her things that I don't know what they are. The other thing that is weird is that the seem to use my chest as some sort of tool bench for setting down these unknown instruments. Ms. McVeigh never did that. In fairness though, Ms. McVeigh never put that apron thing on me or those weird glasses (to stop 'flying debris' getting in my eyes apparently. Eh what?!)

But the thing I miss most about going to the dentist is the waiting room. Now, don't get me wrong, the waiting room in this place is lovely, very modern and clean. But there's no picture of Foggy, Clegg and Compo. You know, from Last of the Summer Wine.

There is it, in all its former glory. Also, check out the gold patterned wallpaper. Another gem.

I had to take it sideyways to stop my reflection. I hope it doesn't diminish its beauty.

Honestly, I can't tell you the hours I've spent wondering why there was a picture of the three amigos in my dentist's. So much so, the last time I was in there I had to take a photo of it.

I mean, why would you even buy it, let alone put it up in a place where other people will see it?

Distracted

I plan on blogging this week. So much to write about sometimes it's hard to know where to start. At the beginning I suppose. But this week? This week I plan to make my comeback to the blogging world for it has missed me.

I'm sure.

I'm as excited as a very excited person who's got a special reason to be excited

It's tomorrow! It's tomorrow! It's tomorrow!

This morning in the shower I caught sight of the countdown clock that's been in there for the past 18 months or so. There was the '1' looking back at me! I squeed right there in the shower! I can't think of anything in my life that I have been more excited about for as long as I have been excited about the London Olympics.

One day! One day! (This photo was taken tonight. Well, who takes their phone to the shower and takes a photo?!)

I mentioned way back in 2005 about how I found out London won the bid on the way to Ruth's wedding. Well, seven years later and we're here!

I love the Olympics. When I think about it,  I suppose I was always going to. They have the history, they have the sport, they have the 'national event'. All box tickers for me! And I was even born on the day Duncan Goodhew won a gold medal in the Moscow Olympics. It's like it was written in the stars!

In 1988, I remember colouring in South Korea flags in school. I remember me and my friends wanting to be Flo Jo and the disgust that Ben Johnston would cheat. I remember seeing Daley Thomspon's pole break during a vault, although of course I had no idea then what that really meant, despite Des Lynham's best efforts to explain it.

I remember watching Sally Gunnell, Linford Christie, Chris Boardman, the Searle brothers with Garry Herbert and Redgrave and Pinsent win gold medals in 1992. I remember fighting back the tears as Derek Redmond finished his race with his dad after he tore his hamstring. 

In 1996 I sat up most of the night watching the action from Atlanta live, slept-in in the morning to do it all the next day. And that was in GB&NI's disappointing Olympics. Since 2000 and the start of lottery funding GB & NI have really had something to shout about at the Games and I've celebrated Team GB's successes in Sydney, Athens and Beijing. 

But I've equally been enthralled at the fortunes of a Kazakstan weightlifter or a Vietnamese archer. Pierre de Coubertin said what was important in life was to have fought well. So when a weightlifter tries to beat his personal best in the clean and jerk, or an archer tries to get an arrow in the gold, that doesn't happen without four years of training, commitment and sacrifices. That's where the fight happens. We're mere spectators in the final act of four years' work. Sometimes there's triumph, sometimes not, but I can't help but be captivated by that.

So you see, I would have loved this summer even if Paris, or another city, had come out on top in the vote. But this is an Olympics in my home country and I'm going to see the some of the athletes live and in the flesh that I've only seen on TV or followed on Twitter! That P4 girl colouring her South Korean flag never imagined that she would ever get the chance to go see an Olympic Games.

I get that some people aren't as excited as I am, and to those people I ask what was beyond your wildest dream as a kid? And what have you waited seven years for, with eager excitement, once you knew it was scheduled to happen?

Tell you what, you can come back to me in 2019 and tell me sure.

Friday night, Saturday morning

I'm up marking. Or not marking as it happens. Honestly, marking exam papers is as much a psychological struggle as it is intellectual one.

Anyway, taking 'a break' to read my Twitter timeline I saw that Matt has made another video! This is exciting and made me 'extend my break' into blogging about it.

Matt is the guy who made a video of himself dancing around the world. Then he made another of him and lots of people dancing around the world. The third one is like the second one, except the dance moves have, by his own admission, improved.

I've used his videos in Citizenship classes and funny enough, the person who tweeted the link I saw said he uses them in Global Studies classes (he teaches in America). But, if you've never seen one, they're not educational in the traditional sense of the word.

Take a look, you'll be hard pressed not to raise a smile and feel slightly better about the world.



I want a job like that.

So...travelling to Emma's was fun

We've started planning Soul Mates 2013 already. I mention it because Soul Mates 2012 was that long ago and that's when I flew to America for a wonderful couple of weeks with some of my favourite people in the world. I never blogged about it and I don't really know why. But here at Princess no trip is too long ago to be celebrated. In fact, I kind of feel like it's the elephant in the room, or the blog not  blogged about.

As I so often have, I flew through Newark. It's my traditional route and comes from it being a hub for Continental, or United as it's now known. Hence air miles, hence this trip. I didn't have long in the airport, once you go through customs and immigration. Well long enough in the airport, but not long enough for a scoot into NYC as I've done before. I did get to see it from the window though.

Wow. You can really see that Manhattan is on a hill in this photo. Or I didn't straighten the photo in post-production. (I put that in deliberately. Long-time visitors will know there is no post-production on here.)

And there was time to grab lunch. And dinner. What?! I missed meals in the air.

The 1950s diner does a fantastic milkshake should you ever find yourself there.

Of course no trip to Newark is complete without getting a slice of my favourite broccoli pizza. It really is Newark's best kept secret. That, or it impresses no one else but me.

Fantastic!

Actually I had a fight on my hands to get into the right terminal (and by that I mean the pizza terminal) because my plane to Nashville left from a different terminal. But I was smart enough to realise that there was a United bus that left from one gate in the Pizza Terminal to the actual terminal. Ha! You will not deprive me of broccoli pizza.

At the gate I was all set. I reviewed my directions to get to Emma's house. And I waited. And I waited some more. And some more. And then my flight was delayed. And then it was moved. And then it was delayed some more. It was a fun time at the gate.

I amused myself by telling myself this was a Rascal Flatt sitting opposite me. But then I realised Rascal Flatts probably don't wear Phillies visors. Let's just pretend though.

Once the flight was moved gates I got talking to a lovely lady from Des Moines who was on her way back there from Florida after taking a continuing education class for her job. She was a masseuse and funnily enough, although likes her job, said it was stressful at times because clients would come in and offload all their problems on to her. Ha! She owned her own business and wants to set up acupuncture as well (actually she might have already - it's June and I can't remember!) I learned lots of interesting things from her about Des Moines, continuing education credits and masseusing in general. And she was happy to talk to me because I was from Ireland and have an accent. She told me that she was able to afford her classes because she'd done a Groupon deal and so had money in the bank from that. So that's better than a lot of the small business experiences of Groupon you hear in the media.

On the flight I was able to move to two seats that were free and slept for a while. With the delay I didn't arrive into about 10pm, which was about 4am my time. And this was after Soul Mates, the busiest weekend of my year. I was shattered. Nashville Airport was pretty quiet when we landed and I was the only person at the car rental place. The guy was from the UK and we had the oddest conversation because we kept on correcting our Americanisms back to the British which we didn't need to do but did kind of out of embarrassment.

He offered me the chance to upgrade. I declined. He offered me the sat nav. I declined. He asked again about the upgrade. I declined. You see, I had my skis with me and he really was quite concerned about getting them fitted in the car. That was nice of him, to be be concerned about me. That or it could be that he was on commission.

Eventually he sent me on my way, not before I asked him where the restrooms, eh bathrooms, eh toilets were. It was a long walk out to the parking structure, eh parking lot, eh car park and by the time I got there I was delighted to see the car rental man because he carried my stuff on down the line of parking spots.

You see, there weren't many cars parked in the lot. And then it came. My new friend offered me a free upgrade to any car I chose in the parking lot. Bingo!

To help me decide he asked me what was important to me in cars. This was a good question and one that I had no hesitation in answering: cupholders. Oh come on?! Isn't that important to everyone?! The other thing that was important to me was how close the car with the best cupholders was to me when we stopped to assess the options. On that basis I was happy to choose the nearby 6 cupholdered Hyundai Sonata. He fitted my skis in and I was on my way to Emma's.

Like I said, it was late and I was tired but with the power of Google Maps and some revision in Newark I made it out to Emma's without much trouble. There was only one sticky point when I couldn't find her exact house on the road, but it turned out I was right outside it: Emma flashed the porch lights and I was there!

Chalk another win up to the Interstate Queen!