To the small girl in the red cart...

The USA has a very successful website called "craigslist". Divided city by city, people post here to advertise as diverse objects as furniture, guitar lessons and, indeed, themselves. Within the "personal" section of the site, there is a category called "missed connections". Largely devoted to love interests, people post here when they wish to contact someone they briefly saw at a party / on the subway / the-neighbour-upstairs-with-the-annoying-dog whose name they never got the opportunity to discover. In this vein, I have drafted the following letter to the small girl I met yesterday on the way back from the Hogtown Medieval Faire.

To the small girl being pulled in a red cart on her way back from the Hogtown Faire,

It is true that you did have a better deal than me last evening. You, sitting there in your shiny red cart, while your brother towed it along the road for the hour-long trek back to the car park. I had to walk, clutching the giant soda bottle I hadn't been able to contemplate a free refill on. And yes, I was tired and maybe slightly envious of your cushy deal. Indeed, you might have felt that, given I had no shiny cart, I should have left the Faire earlier, enabling me to catch one of the buses to the car park before the line got too long to make it practical. You may even have felt that, given my situation, I should have arrived at the Faire early enough in the morning to park my car close to the Faire entrance and not in the overflow car park a few miles away. I don't know, we didn't get a chance to exchange thoughts.

That aside, I feel you labelling me a 'loser', as you so clearly did by making the "L" sign on your forehead, was uncalled for. You may be only 3, but there was clear consideration as you gazed up at my face before lifting your right hand in that premeditated gesture.

I feel obliged to point out that your situation was not as secure as you so clearly seemed to believe. I could, for instance, have reached down and tossed you from your cart and taken your place. Then, not only would you have had to walk, but your brother, who was likely no more than 10, would have been left pulling me; a 28 year old woman full to the brim with soda and a giant cinnamon bun roughly the size of your head. As it was, I noted with some satisfaction, your brother got board of his burden (perhaps you too, had partaken in a cinnamon bun) and dropped the cart handle without warning, and it was only your parents quick action that prevented it from rolling down the road into a bush.

So next time you're out there, in your shiny red cart, you just remember that you're not so big yet, nor able to consume nearly enough cinnamon goodness to make a difference, that you can call any person you see a loser. They might just extract revenge. As it was, the humiliation you caused me resulted in my sharp exit (accompanied by friends in mild hysterics). But next time, NEXT TIME, I will take your cart and force you to carry my soda bottle.

The Sims: a lesson in life

My name is Elizabeth and ..... and I'm a "Sims" addict. Actually, I'm more of a binger. I won't play it for a year and then I'll rediscover it and play non-stop for days. Since Christmas is all about excess, it perhaps isn't surprising that I indulged myself in a bit of virtual reality Sim-life. My sim-Elizabeth moved into a cute Tudor abode with her cat Tallis and lover, Keanu Reeves (complete with Matrix trench coat and sun glasses). Happy days ensued in which Elizabeth progressed rapidly through the medicine career track, Keanu became a sous-chef and even Tallis brought home a steady income as a rescue pet (earning rather more than Keanu). They had the best of everything; luxury bed, piano, hot tub.... and when Keanu presented Elizabeth with a diamond engagement ring, what could she say but yes?

It all went wrong when Keanu (who had family aspirations) strongly desired a baby. Time was running out for he and Elizabeth would become infertile elders in a matter of days. While pondering the issue during long star-gazing hours (ok, I sent him out there every night for a week) Keanu was abducted to return inpregnated with an alien child. But this left a problem: Elizabeth, now wanting a baby herself, was stuck with a husband no longer up to the challenge. The only solution was seduction of a neighbour in the hot tub while Keanu was resting his swollen belly upstairs.

So now we were expecting two children. A handful, yes, but I thought it would be kinda awesome: one alien child and one love child (rather obviously so, since the seduced neighbour was dark skinned). The happy day arrived and Keanu gave birth .... to twins. Within 24 hours, Elizabeth also gave birth resulting in 3 (3!) babies in the house. Keanu was delighted. It became his biggest ambition to have yet another child.

One day later and it was hell. I hired a non-stop cycles of nannies and a maid to try and stay on top of the situation... and failed. Keanu and Elizabeth became exhausted and fell asleep on the floor, the maid never finished the work and had to give up when it got dark, the nanny didn't have time to use the toilet and wet herself... 3 times ... and the cat resorted to asking the maid for attention. A few more days later and the game informed me that the kids aspiration meter was low and I should focus on fulfilling their life ambitions. Life ambitions?! Isn't being alive enough??

Keanu is now mopping up the nanny pee (which the maid seems to have an aversion to doing). His worst fear has become to have another child.

Gasoline

This post is particularly aimed at my American friends who have had to suffer through my complaints about US news broadcasting (too vindictive), US health system (too expensive) and US alligators (too many teeth) and how it (news / health / teeth) would never happen in Europe.

[At a petrol station in Leicester, UK. My Mum fills up the car and then goes to pay inside.]

Me: "Can't we just swipe the credit card and zoom off?"

Mum: "No, most petrol stations don't have that. We have to go and pay inside."

Me: "Bah."

[Inside a shop]

Me: "They don't bag our groceries for us? We've got to pack it all up ourselves?"

Mum: "Start packing."

Me. "BAH."

[Later still]

Me: "I need to use the bathroom."

Mum: "I don't think there are public toilets here."

Me: "This would never happen in America."

Mum: "Do you want dinner?!"

The postdoc who never wanted to grow up

Adviser: Are you generally applying for faculty jobs?

Me: No. I really don't want a faculty position, so there seemed no point in submitting an application since I'd still turn it down in favour of a postdoc.

Adviser: Well, you say you'd turn it down *now*, but if you got a competitive faculty job at a research university ...

Me: ... I'd be mad to turn it down?

Adviser: You'd be mad to turn it down.

Me: So I shouldn't apply. My logic is impeccable.

Blown over

Well, that's all rather disappointing but still... there's always next year!

Stormtroopers

So, let's be honest. Tropical storm Fay was somewhat of a disappointment. I know, I know, you don't all agree. Especially those whose houses were flooded / trees smashed down on cars / general humiliation of being pounded by a woman who sounds like your great aunt. But for me, I felt short changed of the full Florida hurricane experience. Even my non-Florida friends were disgusted commenting "I thought at least your power would be out by now." Still, it appears mother nature heard my noises of discontent and responded by sending over not one but another four hurricane-promising storms.

New Orleans got all the fun of Gustav, but we have Hanna, Ike and Josephine still on the cards. Don't get me wrong, however, I don't want to be flooded out. What we're looking for here is a truck load of rain and wind that allows me to return home to the UK with tales to tell, but nothing that involves me being without power and air conditioning for more than a night. (Hear that, up there?! No loss of internet. I do *not* want to be sent back to the stone ages). So hold onto your waterproofs, Floridians, the stormtroopers are coming!

Wet

Quite damp outside, I have to say.