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Showing posts from August, 2010

Scotland's favourite drink

Everyone knows what Scotland's favourite drink is. That's why Scotland's really truly favourite drink brands itself as 'Scotland's other national drink' . I guess there are things that go with genes. Such as a love for squealy music*, an insensitivity to temperature, a hatred for the English, and a taste for fluid bubblegum. This ad contains no artificial colours *There are exceptions. Video soon.

Fringe Benefits

The Edinburgh Festival Fringe started out as the fringe of the Edinburgh Festival. Now, the best visualization is a petticoat wrapped around a needle. So in its last weekend I went to see it. Pink Floyd's bass player is trying a second career as a standup comedian. He has found a way of looking like it's his first time on stage all over again, but who cares when you've got inside touring-stories-gossip from so many major bands? Baby wants candy performed the first and last ever rendition of the musical 'The day I trod on dog poo', which included the earworm 'This is the worst day of my liiiiife!' And, unlike when I improvise a song on stage, it didn't sound out of key. Lock, Stock and Improv looked more like something I could do, which is exactly what I wanted most to be doing the whole hour long. Sean Lock made me reflect on cultural differences in comedy. Stand-up: guy on empty stage. Maximum allowed time-interval between laugh-salvo's: 1

On the roadtrip again

It's becoming a habit: if friends come to visit, I throw them in my car and we hit the road headed for the highlands. The plan: View Larger Map The change of plans: "Road closed, follow deviation". The deviation is a long one as there aren't many roads in Scotland. The second half of the deviation turns out to be 'gridlocked, if you do not absolutely need to go there, don't'. During the conversation with the police officer who is the author of these words, the car turns out to be squeaking like it shouldn't. A quick check reveals a fume-pipe which we later learn is called an exhaust that dangles like it shouldn't. A quick check with someone more knowledgeable (=male, unlike driver & passengers) reveals that this is probably nothing, but then again it might fall off. In Garelochhead there is no one to be found under the sign 'Exhausts' (which expands our vocabulary with a very useful item), but the supermarket owner, being a Scot,

La Famiglia

But there was more to the holiday. Due to my emigration it was an even bigger family reunion: not just with the Italian family living in Italy but now also with my Italian family living in the Netherlands. Relaxation step one consisted of a one week sailing cruise doubling as a one week feminization training of my father (captain of an all-female crew), whose pre-training baseline included starting the week by wearing a faded yellow shirt with holes in it to my mother's birthday dinner, and whose post-test consisted of him telling me that blow-drying every day was bad for my hair. Step two was the reunion with the rest of the family, starting with my grandmother's 84th birthday, attended by more or less the whole family, plus one new entry who must have gone deaf. My 14-year old cousin made the unfortunate mistake of asking our aunt what 'Did you do it on purpose?' meant in English, and paid for it by confessing to his 28 suddenly silent family members this was a

bored in Beauvais

At the time of booking, having a stop-over of 5hrs in "Paris"-Beauvais (Ryanair's planners mustn't have done well on their geography exams) seemed a small price to pay to a) fly back home on the desired day and b) do so without spending a month's salary. I had already taken one car, one ferry, one bus, two trains and a plane to get there, but was nevertheless determined to take two more bus rides to waste my time in Beauvais - which I was sure would be better than sitting around an airport lounge. And that was before I saw the airport. Beauvais-TillĂ© airport (Ryanair's planners mustn't have done well on their reading exams either) is about the size of my living room. This is exemplified by the screen which lists 'arrivals terminal 1 (here)'. Too bad, then, that they try to cram about a hundred of my birthday parties into it. These planes full of people must then spend their time between the worlds' most depressing food court (and that is sa

Ph(D)otos

Admittedly, I seem to have forgotten how to write a blog. But sometimes, a picture says more than a thousand words.  Many thanks to the photographers: Aukje, Anna, and Bilbo. http://picasaweb.google.com/110394447122217171751/LauraSPromotie2Juli2010#slideshow/5490073804716399394 http://picasaweb.google.com/laura.menenti/Anna#slideshow/5500969958191350466 http://picasaweb.google.com/laura.menenti/I#slideshow/5500969026763885618 http://picasaweb.google.com/laura.menenti/II#slideshow/5500969514036868418