And So Begins Week Three

Last weekend we walked around the Buckingham Palace, which I referred to as Buckingham Fountain twice in conversation. You can take the girl out of Chicago but you can’t take the Chi… eh, nevermind, I got nothing.

I read that royalty has been housed there for only a few hundred years. Only a few hundred years?

We’re not going into any of these historical buildings because it costs money and we blew all of our cash getting into the country. But through the tall black iron fence, we and a few hundred tourists saw guards changing posts. We don’t think it was the Changing of the Guards, but a smaller version. The guards are kids with foot-tall furry black hats in Civil War-ish grey coats. From afar it seems they communicate with a serious of high kicks, knee-bending stomps, and pivot turns.

Marty made me laugh with his narration. “And now the guard takes the ceremonial clip board from the old guard and hangs it back on the wall.”

Work has been getting steadily more hectic for Marty, and I think he likes it that way. He comes home and speaks a mixed language of Number and Computer to me, so I have only a vague idea of what it actually is that he does. I just get when he’s frustrated or content, which is all you really need anyway I guess.

Me, I just kind of bum around the apartment in the mornings and come to the internet café in the afternoons to write and rewrite my resume. The process of looking for a job is painfully excoriating and exposing. Blah. I watched Lost in Translation the other day and identified with Charlotte in a I'm-in-a-foriegn-land-by-myself-while-my-husband-works-and-have-no-real- self-direction kind of way.

We’re expecting to get internet and television in our apartment by next week. Sometime soon we have to do a post about the apartment, but it still feels more like a hotel than a home. Our only seating in the place is one extremely uncomfortable couch. It’s brown pleather and sure does have the appearance of a couch. But as we've attempted to lounge on it over the evenings, I've developed a theory that the designers had never actually seen a human sit before, but had only seen other couches. Yes, that's right, they were aliens.

I’m listening to The Pixies and it is as amazing as ever. During the breaks between songs I am being forced listen to Legend, the album the internet café is playing. It makes me cringe and will probably be in my head for the rest of the day. Of course, yes, I own it-- like everyone else who went to high school in the 90s. I was very young and didn’t know better.