We Have Different Grammas

I've been inexcusably lazy in posting...bad girl! Actually, when this popped up for my login screen, I was a bit leery about logging in, knowing what I know about bad guys and media exploitation:Turns out, though, Blogger just launched an Arabic version, it wasn't a hack job. At least I hope it wasn't. If my blog is replaced by some raging bullshit, you'll know I've been schwamied. Or maybe THIS is the raging bullshit.

I often feel like the proverbial square peg. I rarely shake this feeling unless I'm among friends I've known for at least a couple of years. Over here, it's like an urban bar scene...I definitely don't fit in and it makes me right self-conscious at times. Not that I care enough to overhaul my personality--it kind of pisses me off when I'm reminded that I'm loud (which I am), or that I have a "strong personality" (also true), etc. I think I'm one of those people you either really like, or really don't like, and there's likely very little middle ground. But know what? Fucking deal with it, I won't put on airs to keep people from getting the vapors. I'm not mean, I don't hurt people, I try to be kind, so if loudness in and of itself is the issue, that's just silly and harkens back to some June Cleaver, women-should-be-delicate-flowers bullshit.

All the holiday season goodwill disappeared shortly after New Year's, so we're back to business as usual with the office drama. And as usual, I'm not involved, just observing and trying not to choose sides. Keeps things lively, but also irritates the crap out of me from time to time, watching everyone assign nefarious motives to each other's every word and facial expression, the smallness it begets in people with already stingy natures. I'm trying not to let it rub off on me--I've been That Person before, and I'm working hard to not be so judgemental and negative myself, give everyone the benefit of the doubt. It can be tough, and some people don't deserve it...but I've come to admire that generousness and tolerance (with a hefty dose of patience) in others where I didn't previously see it in myself. Just being conscious of it helps immensely.

So I'm working on it. And I have to be patient and tolerant with myself in the process.

Mating Dance of the Modern Celt

This photo perfectly sums up our New Year's Eve. The little guy in front is a fully drunken, out-of-control Scot, dancing like a...well, like a fully drunken, out-of-control Scot. And note his friends (English, Irish, Scottish) laughing at him.

We had a blllaasst New Year's Eve with the Brits. Odd thing: instead of the 10-9-8 countdown, they had a Big Ben recording at midnight, bong bong bong, and you sit there all quiet while it bongs twelve times, all somber, then it's New Year's Day. Pretty anticlimactic.

But that's my ONLY complaint. My friend Jessie's kilted in the background--I wore a kilt that was advertised as the U.S. Army's tartan.



It was quickly pointed out that girls don't wear kilts, so it's a "scaat." A what? "A SCCAAAAT." A scat? What does that mean? "Your garment, the scaat." OH, a SKIRT!!!!



Additionally, the U.S. Army cannot have a tartan, as the Queen must bless, sanction, whatever, all tartans. So I wore a plaid skirt, which sounds rather pedestrian.

Supporting the sotten Scot.And it wouldn't be a party with the Brits if someone didn't take off some clothing. We may have encouraged this behavior a bit. I'm working to edit some of the video I took to upload it as well--it's so priceless that it inspired me to buy a real camcorder. What I captured: think Riverdance mixed with a 1980's-style breakdance-off. I laughed so hard my abs hurt the next day.