Today, I received an unsolicited email from a young American lady, curently on holiday in London, UK, who tells me she "read it on the net somewhere" that I used to live in London myself. And then she asked me to tell her where she could "buy some green".
It took me about three minutes to figure out what she was asking for. I honestly had NO clue. I was sitting and thinking to myself; "Green? Why would she want to BUY American dollars once there? Why not bring them with her? and surely everyone knows about banks and currency exchange places?"
It's a wonder I can tie my own shoes.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Nikki WhereIS
I've been debating changing my name to Nikki WhereIs. As it is the most commonly heard phrase in our home, particularly in the morning. I don't mind it for things like keys, which could get set down anywhere (except on the actual keyrack, cause that would just be silly, wouldn't it)?
But I do get the littlest bit irritated and sassy when asked on a regular basis things like "Nikki WhereIs the milk?
"Ummm...its 40 damned degrees at 7 am- where do you THINK I might be hiding the milk? Did you even LOOK in the fridge"?
My typical morning involves following in the Boi's wake, picking up things he will need along the way; wallet, car and house keys, swipe card for access to the office, gym clothing, laptop, sunglasses, lunch, books for class. By the time we get out to the car, I'm juggling his gear and mine (A single handbag), a la Octopus Extraordinaire, and he's relaxed and empty handed, save for his bottle of water, stretching and enjoying the morning sunshine while I dance about on one foot trying not to drop anything while unlocking the car door with keys held in my mouth.
I love mornings But I should demand a raise.
But I do get the littlest bit irritated and sassy when asked on a regular basis things like "Nikki WhereIs the milk?
"Ummm...its 40 damned degrees at 7 am- where do you THINK I might be hiding the milk? Did you even LOOK in the fridge"?
My typical morning involves following in the Boi's wake, picking up things he will need along the way; wallet, car and house keys, swipe card for access to the office, gym clothing, laptop, sunglasses, lunch, books for class. By the time we get out to the car, I'm juggling his gear and mine (A single handbag), a la Octopus Extraordinaire, and he's relaxed and empty handed, save for his bottle of water, stretching and enjoying the morning sunshine while I dance about on one foot trying not to drop anything while unlocking the car door with keys held in my mouth.
I love mornings But I should demand a raise.
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