Northern Ireland Confidential

rhymes with 'breath'

My new slogan is "Breath to Easy Jet." But please substitute another word for "breath." It starts with a D.

I would type it out here but I'm sure it would come back to haunt me and I would not be allowed on any more of their flights.

Considering their appalling record of timeliness and customer service, that might not be a bad thing.

My dad once told me, "If you still enjoy business travel, you haven't done it enough." I think I now know what he means.

making a good thing even better

I love BBC comedy panel shows. And even though I don't have a television, I can download these shows (like "Would I Lie to You?" or "Never Mind the Buzzcocks") and watch them on my computer. This usually involves hunching over the laptop to hear Paul Merton's witty remarks.  [Note to Paul: Call me. Seriously. Well, as serious as you're able to be.]

But last weekend in Scotland, I was able to watch "Mock the Week" on a gloriously ginormous high-quality television, and my friends explained the cultural references I didn't get. Wondrous! I can't think of a recent time when I've enjoyed TV quite so much.

Keeping with the Scottish joys, Frankie Boyle (from Glasgow, very rude but very hilarious) had a great line about the Olympics. He referred to George Bush declining to smack the backsides of the women's beach volleyball team, and said something along the lines of this:

"Can you imagine Bill Clinton getting an offer like that? They probably wouldn't even let him get near the women's beach volleyball team -- unless they wheeled him up, bound and with a face mask like Hannibal Lecter's!"

beyond the fringe

I hardly need to be lured to Edinburgh, one of my all-time favorite cities. The Fringe Festival did the trick, though, and so I set off for a quick trip to see British comedy. Fortunately I also have friends in that area, and they were willing to accompany me.

I learned a few things -- if there are tickets available on short notice, it's a sign (not a good one). And I learned that the title of the event I chose, "On Heat," hints at randyness, although it also could have referred to the temperature inside the venue. I experienced one of my worst social phobias: persuading others to come along to an event that turns out to be pretty horrible.

But my friends were unfailingly polite. (I think that if you served them a plate of bees, they would kindly accept it and say, "It's a feast for all the senses.") They said they enjoyed themselves.

That hour aside, it was a sublime day. The weather was incredible, Edinburgh was bustling, and I got to do what I'd love to do every Saturday night: have dinner in a big city with really fun people.

More on gorgeous, magical Scotland in the coming days! Until then, please be astonished by Scott's View, named for Sir Walter himself.

god bless america

Back from the States, with many happy memories and a suitcase full of stuff. Here are a  few highlights of things I've missed. And as always, a promise to write more next week (it's mad here).

 

 

fuzzy strawberries

Prime Minister Gordon Brown is chiding UK residents for the amount of food we throw away. Guilty as charged. I've been traveling a lot this summer and I return to a compost heap inside my fridge. As I'm about to leave again, I'm doing my best to eat everything before I go. I'm failing at this task. And it's a mini-fridge!

There's another factor to blame: the nano-second expiration dates on food here. Pretty much, all groceries have a shelf life of the drive home from the market. I would like to start buying milk by the tablespoon. And do you suppose they'd sell me 7 grapes at a time?

I guess this is what comes of eating healthy food. I've never had Cheetos spoil on me. Mmmm ... Cheetos. I know what I'm buying as soon as we set down at O'Hare.

hot child in the city

I will be at home in the U.S. Midwest next week and I am very excited to see my family and friends. I'm looking forward to some familiar foods and giant ice-filled drinks. I will enjoy understandable traffic patterns. (I don't think I'll be driving, however!)

There is one thing I'm dreading: the weather: mid-80s and humid every single day.  

It will be 20 degrees warmer and sunnier than it will be in Northern Ireland. Blecch!

Yep, you read that right. I love the weather here. Today, it was barely 60 degrees and spitting rain. A veil of fog hung on the horizon. I thought it was beautiful.

People here think I'm insane. But I'm not sweating, so I'm happy.

this is my story, this is my song

I'm singing on the radio right now. But I hope you can't hear me -- I don't want to stand out.  Our church congregation is one of the groups featured tonight on BBC Radio 2's "Sunday Half Hour." We must not have been too great -- they only played one verse of what I think was a 78-verse hymn.

Of course, it might just have seemed like 78 verses because we needed to do many, many takes so the sound engineers could work their production magic in preparing the show. (We recorded four or five songs back in June, and some of them will be on a September installment of this program.)

I have to confess I don't listen to this show very often, but I should, because they play actual hymns. I love my church very much, but I went to the recording session with the hidden motive to sing hymns in harmony, which we never do as part of our typical worship.

look! the map signal!

Quote of the week: "I love maps, so I do." -- A visitor to my office this week, poring over this

 

I love maps also, which is one of the reasons I have written under the pseudonym mapgirl for some years now. The other reason is that is sounds vaguely superheroish, which secretly pleases me.

       

During years of living as my alter-ego, I have honed my special powers, which I previously detailed here. Today during my walk in City Centre, I discovered how I can spot people in need: they are standing on the street, puzzling over a map.

 

That is when I spring into action! Pow! Biff! Zap!

 

"Can I help you find something?"

climate change

I like to sleep in have a lie-in on a Saturday. (I think this is my form of rebellion because I grew up in a household that demanded everyone be up and ready for the day at 8 a.m. on a Saturday.) But the weather was so amazing today that I had to get up and at 'em straightaway.

I call this type of weather "Marquette weather" because it reminds me of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan in the fall: high 50s, sunny, slight breeze. Heaven.

 

I set off on my ideal Saturday:

• Walked into town, accompanied by Nick Lowe (well, on iPod at least).
• Topped up my bus pass
• Visited Linen Hall Library to collect some books on Edinburgh
• Had lunch at St. George's Market, picked up sunflowers and a new painting
• Rode the bus home

Seems tame, pedestrian, maybe even boring, but I savored savoured every single minute. The whole morning was suffused with joy -- the streets were bustling with happy people, the sun was just the right amount of warm, and I am simply smitten with Belfast. I'm starting to love the gritty just as much as the pretty.

Oh, and about 8 minutes after I got home, it rained! I don't mind -- it made me feel less guilty about staying in for the afternoon. All in all, a perfect Saturday.

75 + 1

Two bits of bad news were uncovered at this week's United Nations Pub Quiz:

• Kevin, my neighbour from Inner Mongolia, is returning to China sooner than expected. His project is concluding and the home office wants him back. Kevin doesn't want to go. We don't want him to go. The only positive thing is that the apartment building probably won't burn down now. We hope to have a big party of our own as a send-off in early September.
• The quizmaster was on vacation holiday so there was no quiz. We had to fill the non-drinking moments with actual conversation.

Fortunately for me, again there was a very interesting bloke visiting from Australia. [Note to self: Plan trip to Australia.] He is a professional trombone player who is actually living in Leeds before setting off for a cruise ship gig.