Fists down. Fists down. Let's begin.
Well hello there again world. It has been a while since anything of any substance has appeared. As you have probably already guessed my social calendar has been entirely booked up and I've barely had a chance to breathe inbetween my high society luncheons and my evening prayer meetings. Lies. I've had work. Veritable work. It has been grim, but I have finally finished the 400 page extravaganza which is the Last of the Mohicans. I started it a month ago. Excellent. And to think all it took was a 6hr bus ride and a bench by the river. Yeah. I wrote these thoughts in Quebec (later to be transcribed for the internet world to marvel at). Waiting for the bus back to Ottawa listening to the sweet melodies of Shania Twain. his is Canada at its best. I know everyone (all 3 of you who read this) will want the juicy details about this trip, but you will have to wait a day or two until I have invented said juicy details I also need to stop saying juicy as it is making me feel nauseous - even more nauseous than I already feel from just eating what was claiming to be a sandwich, but tasted like seasoned shit. To be fair I'm probably just suffering from withdrawal symptoms of not having had pizza for the grand total of 4 days. For those who wish to send me congratulations cards, please find my address on my Facebook page. If I don't have you on facebook...what are you doing here? How can any of this be interesting for you??? Why won't you tell me your name so that we don't have to hide our true feelings from one another any longer.
Anyway, let us rewind and revisit times prior to these. Ready? Are you on the chill level? If you are...please tell me what the chill level is. The past few weeks have been a mixture of being on the chill level and of being so unchilled that I was convinced my blood had turned to lava (it can happen...probably).
Many things have happened, as far as I can remember, but most pretty unexciting. I did my first test - in pencil??!, I laughed out loud at a book before scolding myself thoroughly for my plebbish behaviours. But I think the highlight so far was the toga party.
Reader: What toga party, fair Katharine?
Fair Katharine: I have literally no idea.
This was going to be it. This was the party that was going to show the world who we are (3rd grenville for the less knowledgeable of you). It was going to be the party that would put us on the map. On this surface this seemed to be a pretty reasonable assumption, but due to a mix up in the organisation the only map we were able to get hold of was a map of Belgium..and not even a good map.
To be honest, given that people here get documented for walking 2 metres to someone elses room with an open can of beer, a 4 room party extravaganza was never going to be that likely. Yes. You heard me England. If you work in the hall with an open drink enough times you can technically get deported. It would make for a fairly tame episode of Border Patrol UK. Part of me wants to though. Just so I can stand next to the drug dealers and tiger smugglers (thats a thing right?) and me with a personal sized bottle of wine.
But, ANYWAY, the party. I think it took less than an hour and half before security rolled up with their notepad of doom. Beer pong room was the 1st to go, later followed by Mingle Room 2 (gone, but not forgotten), and all that remained was Mingle Room 1 and the walkway. Of the 3 minutes I spent at the party (Hey. You can't say I didn't try. That 3 minutes felt like a long time). the walkway was probably the highlight for me. My experience of the Mingle Room was standing awkwardly, togaless of course, in some unknown liquid, as strangers were happily a grinding. I think all the people I was with (yeah..I got people...But don't tell them I said that) were pretty content to make like snooker players and take our cue to leave.
To be fair the night wasn't that bad. In many ways the toga party brought people closer together, as they ventured to stay away from the toga party. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows though. The main reason being that the party occurred during the nighttime, and sunshine and rainbows are both very uncommon during the night...unless you are in Norway. The second reason was that I have come to realise the sad thing that seems to unite all the nations of the world is that no matter where you are, people seem to think that "fat" is synonymous with "deaf". I would now like to forever put this myth to rest. This shebang is the rather clever reasoning behind the title of this blogpost - feel free to chuckle. Jess also took a few verbal bullets, but "The Elephant and the Bitch in the room" doesn't really roll off the tongue so well, but it's ok dear Jessica. I'l always remember that you are a bitch :) The whole affair did call a certain degree of tension, although you could say that this element of feud has made us closer to a real family than ever.
Anyway, as the party that is today comes to a close I think it is time to wrap this bitch up. Don't fear. My next post shall be of jovial Quebec things. I even got to see a whale..and NO! I did not just look in the mirror.
A bientot chez theyearirodepolarbears.blogspot.com. Tell your friends..that they aren't welcome.
Nacht x
Well hello there again world. It has been a while since anything of any substance has appeared. As you have probably already guessed my social calendar has been entirely booked up and I've barely had a chance to breathe inbetween my high society luncheons and my evening prayer meetings. Lies. I've had work. Veritable work. It has been grim, but I have finally finished the 400 page extravaganza which is the Last of the Mohicans. I started it a month ago. Excellent. And to think all it took was a 6hr bus ride and a bench by the river. Yeah. I wrote these thoughts in Quebec (later to be transcribed for the internet world to marvel at). Waiting for the bus back to Ottawa listening to the sweet melodies of Shania Twain. his is Canada at its best. I know everyone (all 3 of you who read this) will want the juicy details about this trip, but you will have to wait a day or two until I have invented said juicy details I also need to stop saying juicy as it is making me feel nauseous - even more nauseous than I already feel from just eating what was claiming to be a sandwich, but tasted like seasoned shit. To be fair I'm probably just suffering from withdrawal symptoms of not having had pizza for the grand total of 4 days. For those who wish to send me congratulations cards, please find my address on my Facebook page. If I don't have you on facebook...what are you doing here? How can any of this be interesting for you??? Why won't you tell me your name so that we don't have to hide our true feelings from one another any longer.
Anyway, let us rewind and revisit times prior to these. Ready? Are you on the chill level? If you are...please tell me what the chill level is. The past few weeks have been a mixture of being on the chill level and of being so unchilled that I was convinced my blood had turned to lava (it can happen...probably).
Many things have happened, as far as I can remember, but most pretty unexciting. I did my first test - in pencil??!, I laughed out loud at a book before scolding myself thoroughly for my plebbish behaviours. But I think the highlight so far was the toga party.
Reader: What toga party, fair Katharine?
Fair Katharine: I have literally no idea.
This was going to be it. This was the party that was going to show the world who we are (3rd grenville for the less knowledgeable of you). It was going to be the party that would put us on the map. On this surface this seemed to be a pretty reasonable assumption, but due to a mix up in the organisation the only map we were able to get hold of was a map of Belgium..and not even a good map.
To be honest, given that people here get documented for walking 2 metres to someone elses room with an open can of beer, a 4 room party extravaganza was never going to be that likely. Yes. You heard me England. If you work in the hall with an open drink enough times you can technically get deported. It would make for a fairly tame episode of Border Patrol UK. Part of me wants to though. Just so I can stand next to the drug dealers and tiger smugglers (thats a thing right?) and me with a personal sized bottle of wine.
But, ANYWAY, the party. I think it took less than an hour and half before security rolled up with their notepad of doom. Beer pong room was the 1st to go, later followed by Mingle Room 2 (gone, but not forgotten), and all that remained was Mingle Room 1 and the walkway. Of the 3 minutes I spent at the party (Hey. You can't say I didn't try. That 3 minutes felt like a long time). the walkway was probably the highlight for me. My experience of the Mingle Room was standing awkwardly, togaless of course, in some unknown liquid, as strangers were happily a grinding. I think all the people I was with (yeah..I got people...But don't tell them I said that) were pretty content to make like snooker players and take our cue to leave.
To be fair the night wasn't that bad. In many ways the toga party brought people closer together, as they ventured to stay away from the toga party. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows though. The main reason being that the party occurred during the nighttime, and sunshine and rainbows are both very uncommon during the night...unless you are in Norway. The second reason was that I have come to realise the sad thing that seems to unite all the nations of the world is that no matter where you are, people seem to think that "fat" is synonymous with "deaf". I would now like to forever put this myth to rest. This shebang is the rather clever reasoning behind the title of this blogpost - feel free to chuckle. Jess also took a few verbal bullets, but "The Elephant and the Bitch in the room" doesn't really roll off the tongue so well, but it's ok dear Jessica. I'l always remember that you are a bitch :) The whole affair did call a certain degree of tension, although you could say that this element of feud has made us closer to a real family than ever.
Anyway, as the party that is today comes to a close I think it is time to wrap this bitch up. Don't fear. My next post shall be of jovial Quebec things. I even got to see a whale..and NO! I did not just look in the mirror.
A bientot chez theyearirodepolarbears.blogspot.com. Tell your friends..that they aren't welcome.
Nacht x
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