July 30, 2007

July 30, 2007

A vague smell of poop.

So. Still jet-lagged. Punchy...giddy. Call it what you will, but I am effed up.

Let's see....what else can I tell about the trip from hell? "Why from hell?" you ask...
Well...1. We took my Mom, and I actually thought it could go smoothly, but what an idiot I am.
and
2. We took my Mom.

Other than that....everything is ten times more expensive than you think it will be, and there is a vague smell of poop everywhere. In Paris there was a vague smell of liverwurst everywhere...in London, there is a vague smell of poop underlying everything. Even under the smell of Indian cooking....poop. Not dog poop, not cat poop (now that I am thinking about it, I did not see ONE SINGLE CAT IN ENGLAND...spooky)..but HUMAN poop.

The Indian food is awesome. Truly. It's EVERYwhere..but it's really good. Since I inherited the "gift" of mimicry from my father, I ended up talking like whoever was around. Only louder, and I made everything sound dirty.
For example....we were on the Underground and one of the stops is "Clapham" something or another. I began talking to my Mom in a very loud Cockney or "Norf" London accent. Hell, I don't know where it was from...but half those people don't pronounce their "th"s. Anyhow, I was saying stuff like: "Fred came 'ome late the uv'er night, 'e did....'is pecker is right full of the Clapham....'e won't be tuchin' me anytime soon, 'aye can tell ye that..." Anyhow, it was something to amuse me and pass the time and it mortified my Mother but made her laugh, too. So...."Clapham". Don't catch the "Clapham". "Ohhhh it'll mortify ye, it will."

OH MY GOD. HARROD'S. What A NIGHTMARE! And people, I shop. But Harrod's is too, too horrid for words. It is ...well....if you've never been there....let me see if I can describe it to you....Harrod's is like a very large, multi-level disco in Mexico in the 80's. Only all the lights are ON. It is set up so that you get lost. And from what I could TELL, and I might be WRONG...I probably AM..but all I found was ONE entrance/exit. There were guards allowing people in and out. It was mass chaos. For such a big assed place, they were sorely lacking in restrooms...OH EXCUSE ME....LUXURY LADIES' WASHROOMS.. (whattheFUCKever)....The food halls were like very crowded, gaudily decorated grocery stores. In fact, all of it was gaudy. The Egyptian Room was enough to make you puke. Then there were "The Rooms of Luxury". I think they were actually the maze entrance so that you got good and goddamned lost. There were plasma screens lining the escalators and they were all tuned to "Al Jazheera" or however it's spelled. I thought my Mother would come unHINGED. It is so crowded that you are barely shuffling at times...much like a very crowded nightclub in the 80s. The music is so loud you cannot think. Very much like a nightclub. The overpowering odors from the perfume departments is everywhere. We did have tea in one of the bazillion restaurants inside Harrod's, though. We had to sit the hell down and breathe. Tea with scones/jam and cream was over 100 bucks.
If fire ever breaks out in that place, it's going to be carnage the likes of which we've not seen in a very long while. And Agent Provocateur and La Perla will lose millions of pounds worth of bras and thongs that nobody is buying. Everyone is TOUCHING them to see what an 800 GBP bra feels like..but nobody is buying it.

Oh, I spotted some celebrities. Remember Denise Austin? The exercise guru chick? She totally cut in front of me in line at the Tower of London. I was about to throw down with her then I realized who she was and I said "Are you Denise Austin?" and she sort of furtively looked around and said "Well...yes..." and I said, "Oh. Well I don't want to bother you...I did your pregnancy exercise video all through my 2nd pregnancy..." and her daughter (who looks just like her but with dark hair) smiled and said, "Oh it's ok...." then they totally got in front of us. Cutters. She is super short like me. I assumed she was taller.

Then I could almost swear...ALMOST SWEAR TO GOD that I saw Ben Affleck who I don't even like at a tube station. If it wasn't him, it was a twin....

Then in Covent Garden we saw some older dude, who I can't even remember now. But I said, "Hey, isn't that_________?" and my Mom and daughter both said "Yeah!" but now I can't even remember who it was. Oh well. But Denise Austin WAY cut in line.
I don't look for celebrities...I usually end up in altercations with them. Then someone will tell me who they are..but I am too pissed to care...because they cut in front of me in line or something. I'm sorry, but you wait your Pilates toned ass in line like everyone else, Ms. Austin!

But you know those guards who wear the tall fuzzy hats? The ones people are always trying to get to laugh or whatever? My Mom told one who was JUST going on duty at Windsor Castle..."Oh...you are SOOOO handsome!" (what the HELL?!?!?!?) and he freaking blushed and said "Thank you." So they can be bought, people. What had gotten into my mother, I do not know. He looked exactly like every other dude in the red uniform with the fuzzy hat. And my Mom was evidently trying to score... I don't know.

Sanford asked the docents or volunteers or whatever they are at Windsor inane questions like: "Do the airplanes from Heathrow bother the Queen when she is here?"

Oh.My.God. Like she is going to call down to 89 year old Mildred the volunteer who stands in the doorway to the King's Closet and say "Oh, I say Mildred....the airplanes are so bothersome....do call Heathrow and have them ground all flights for the duration of my stay at Windsor...pip pip! " Good Lord.

Sanford fell out of bed 2 times whilst we were there. He fell out of the bed, and knocked over the bedside table, the lamp and two vases. He wears a breathing mask because he has sleep apnea...so he was laying on the floor buck naked with a breathing mask on. I had to wake him up to make him get back in bed. Freak. Middle of the night I hear *Crash* "Grunt"...so I look over and he is gone. I look over the edge of his side of the bed...and there he is asleep on the floor amidst the wreckage of the nightstand. I prod him and say "Hey!"
Sanford: "Uh"
Me: "What the hell? Are you okay?"
Sanford: "Uh?"
Me: "You fell out of the bed...get back in bed."
Sanford: "Uh."

In all fairness, he is used to a king sized bed, and were in a teeny tiny double bed...but crap! Two times?!?!?!?!?!

My Mom fell out of bed once.

I fell down the stairs of the flat we rented. Just the last 3 or 4 steps and it was the middle of the night and yes it hurt and I felt like a moron.

My Mom was convinced the flat was haunted. I think we are just all idiots.

OH MY GOSH! Remind me to tell you about the protest going on outside of Harrod's!!!! It gets worse and worse!