Wales, Opera, and Toilets

This past weekend Arcadia took us to Wales. It was Welsh. There wasn't a lot to do, but the scenery was absolutely gorgeous and our host dad made us sit and watch a bootleg of Hairspray because he thought we'd enjoy a "girly film" so all in all it was a grand adventure.

One awkward moment did arise when our host mom served beef lasagna and fries for dinner...and two out of the four of us staying with them were vegetarians. I didn't want to be rude, so I ate a few polite bites. After a few minutes she left the kitchen, at which point all four of us turned into five year olds and the two meat-eaters thrust their plates in our vegetarian direction and we started transferring lasagna as quickly as possible - as our forks shoveled it onto their plates, their forks shoveled it into their mouths. That activity, coupled with living out my nine year old fantasy of having fries and rolls for dinner, really brought me back to single digits.

Today I'm having another grand adventure, but with more of a metropolitan tilt. It's a very triumphant adventure, because it includes 4 goals I've had since coming to London.

1) Make a trendy British friend

2) Go to the Royal Opera House

3) Buy something pretentiously European for 48 Sunset

4) Get handed a rose by a British boy

Okay so the last one is a bit misleading. But basically I've made friends with a Brit from Surrey who thinks the American revelation of grilled cheese and tomato soup is the most magnificent thing in the world, and who is taking me in two weeks to her hometown, where The Holiday was filmed (!!). We, along with an American boy, got tickets to go see Cosi fan tutte at the ROH tonight (10 quid standing room tickets..I feel so British), so that's two checks down. On our way back to QM from the box office I purchased a small metal sign that says "Toilet" for the bathroom at 48 (you're gonna love it, E, E, and J, I swear!) so that's number 3 down. Then, as we were nearing the tube stop, a Brit standing in the road with two pink roses handed them to me and the girl from Surrey, muttering something about breast cancer. I don't quite get the connection (here's hoping he's not some soothsayer or something...touch what it won't), but I'm thrilled all the same.

I leave you now with a list of British phrases I have begun using and am not apologetic for:

-lovely

-keen

-touch what it won't (instead of knock on wood you say this and touch your head - I find that incredibly adorable)

-d'you reckon?

-an excessive use of "quite"

That's the list so far. And on a completely random note - does anyone know how to put photos up on this darned modern blog thing? Because I know as much as you all must love staring at a block of text, pictures may make your blog reading experience more pleasurable (as well as likely to happen). Thanks!