British and American English: Talking about tea

And now we know! I love this beautiful blog at notesfromtheuk.com

Notes from the U.K.

Tea isn’t just a drink here, it’s a meal and a marker of class. (You’ll find lots of those if you know how to look.) If you’re working class, tea is the evening meal and dinner is lunch. If you’re upper class, the evening meal is supper. Are you still with me? You won’t be for long, because A. adds, “But we all say supper now.”

Who’s “we”?

Sorry, you’re on your own there.

Screamingly irrelevant photo. He doesn’t care what the meal’s called.

And in case this isn’t confusing enough, I’ve read that all this turns into its opposite in other parts of the country, so you have to know where someone’s from to know what they’re eating. Or drinking. Or talking about.

Wild thing was on the phone with H. and invited her to stop by for tea after something they were doing together. H. told us later that…

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Candy Crush Withdrawal

Twelve step programs
Always say, first one must
Admit one has a problem.
I have a problem.

Bidding adieu to the
Crush Sisters:
Candy and Soda
Piece of cake.

Too many hours spent
Bringing fruit all the
Way to the bottom
Or eliminating bombs.

Chocolate and bears.
Candy of all colors.
Deceptively innocent
Addictive as hell.

Then, the tremors
Began. My fingers
Beat staccato trying
To find bears.

Today I searched in
Vain for the icons
Deleted two days past.
Lord, give me strength.

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Mall Thinking

People watching at the
Mall:

Elderly woman cajoles
Her husband.
Then commands.
She worries he’s done
Too much today.
Their hands touch
Briefly. He hates
Feeling old as she
Fetches Starbucks.

Thirty-somethings,
Husband and wife
Carry plump
Pillows between them.
She looks at him
With love and
Something akin to
Annoyance.
He is oblivious.

Young adults sit giggling
Heads together
Job applications stacked
Neatly between them.
Pens scratch earnestly
Between witty asides.
Don’t make me laugh!
You made me forget
My address!

Mother and pink clad
Toddler enjoy
Conversation in a
Language I cannot
Understand. Their
Eyes smile. Little
Girl dances impatiently
Eager to join others
At play.

I wonder is anyone
Watching me?

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Kentucky Bourbon Barrel Ale

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I believe Whole Foods has a new marketing approach. It works like this: Station a really good looking younger man in front of the beer cooler section. Have him look slightly perplexed. Unsuspecting older women will be sure to ask if he needs a hand. 😜 Then he’ll say, “Oh there it is! You really should try this. It’s an ale aged in Kentucky bourbon barrels.”

Let’s face it, the guy might’ve said, “You really should try this. It’s a monkey’s butt aged in peanut butter,” and I’d have purchased it.

Yes, I bought an exorbitantly priced four pack of this stuff because the guy was ridiculously cute. Thank goodness, it’s really quite good.
Well done, Whole Foods, well done.

Peace, People!

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Ok, this wasn’t him, but I’d buy whatever he’s selling, too.

When the Waitress Gets it Wrong

Today I clearly heard
Myself order a
Grilled shrimp salad
Dressing on the side,
Unsweetened iced tea
With lemon.

Imagine my surprise
When tea arrived
Sweet as a toddler’s kiss.
After a sip I sent it back
Receiving a chastened
Tea in return.

My salad arrived, a
Wide expanse of
Iceberg lettuce ringed with
Red onions and simulated
Cheeses, white and yellow,
And fried chicken.

Excuse me, miss,
I ordered grilled shrimp.
No, she said, eyes rolling
I wrote down fried chicken
See. Indeed she had,
But I’m inclined to believe me.

While taking my order
She’d outrageously
Flirted with two men
Seated at the next table,
Hoping I suppose for
Big tips.

I ate the salad anyway,
And didn’t make a fuss,
But when she came to refill
My tea, I said, with a twinkle,
Remember, dear, I asked for
Unsweet.

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Pageant Mom

I’m just popping with pride! Our beautiful daughter has been referred to a seemingly prestigious group soliciting her entry into a nationwide beauty pageant. Of course we’ve always known our Ashley was pageant material, so it’s nice to feel vindicated.

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Yes, today we received a letter from NAM, the sponsors of the National American Miss Pageant. Now, I hope they don’t mind that our daughter is in her early 30’s or that she has daughters old enough to compete in this pageant. Oh, and she’s married, so I guess the “miss” part doesn’t apply.

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I can’t wait to call Ashley and remind her to dress for success for her open call audition. After all, there’s a Ford Mustang convertible on the line. She’ll be so excited.

See, she might not be a miss, but she’s beautiful.

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Slippery Slope

I wandered around the kitchen wares department at Bed, Bath, and Beyond today. It’s amazing how many tools, gadgets, storage containers, etc., are out there. What’s even more amazing is my new compulsion to buy them. All of them.

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The question is, do I NEED a melon baller? Do I NEED a garlic press? No, probably not, but dang, they’re cute! Why didn’t anyone ever tell me how much fun it is to shop for cooking paraphernalia?

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And the ideas! Holy cow! It’s almost as if they’ve been waiting for me my entire life! Is it too late for me to have a love affair with cooking? Or at least a fling with the gadgets? 😍

Peace, People!

Say It

Talk to me, friends. I love this piece by John White, blogged on his site doubleupoet.wordpress.com. Tell me what you think.

DoubleU = W

It’s not so hard to admit,

When you are being honest,

Though it can make you feel weak,

And at another’s mercy.

The grim coldness of it all,

Its utter finality,

A heartless uncaring hand,

Taking you away from here.

Say it:

You, Friend, just like I, fear death.

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Goodbye Candy Crush

Today is a momentous day. I’ve deleted Candy Crush and its demented sister, Soda Crush, from my electronic devices. Gone, as well, is Bejeweled Blitz. Snap! Just like that.

Now that I’ve discovered the joy of cooking for Studly Doright I want to spend my hours in pursuit of the perfect Studly-pleasing recipes. That and I need to get up and move more. My chair and I are starting to look like conjoined twins connected at the ass.

I must admit when I hit the little “x” on the quivering Candy Crush app icon my heart squeaked in protest. After all I was on Level 657. Let that sink in. If every level took just one minute to solve, and if I’d solved each of those levels on the first try that would have been 657 minutes of my life spent playing Candy Crush. But I spent WEEKS on many levels. I could have earned a Masters Degree in the time I spent playing Candy Crush alone.

And that was just one game. Soda Crush required roughly the same time commitment, and Bejeweled Blitz, well, it was addictive on a whole different level. Some nights I’d lie awake trying to picture ways to boost my scores. Fruitless, pointless, insomnia-inducing thoughts.

I’m sure there will be some withdrawal issues. My fingers might have to learn to relax, and my eyes to refocus. There was one game I didn’t delete, though. I’ve kept Words With Friends. It seems to serve some educational purpose. How else would I know that qi and qat were words?

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Peace, People!