thanksgiving: best day ever?

This Thursday was special. Special beyond the normal realms of special. Lots, and I mean more than is necessarily normal amounts of  “lots”, lots of special things happened. On one day. It is even spreading over to today. But before we deal with the present, lets flick back through the awesomeness that was yesterday.

I woke up feeling much fresher than usual, took the wife to work and came back home. I then had enough time to enjoy a breakfast and some coffee before catching the train into University.

Nothing too special there. But wait. It gets better.

I arrive at Guildford on schedule and make good time to get to Library with 30 minutes to print my translation for the upcoming seminar. The printer functioned, the job was done and off I toddled to the seminar. In the seminar I discover that I had masterfully completed last week’s translation, achieving an almighty 69 (wahey in-your-endo and all that). Then, we finish early. That was abmormal. Abmormal. What a mistype. I’m going to keep that there as a tribute to my Mormon encounters, which themselves were truly “abmormal” haha.

Anyway, moving on, already glowing from my 69 and early finish (the Todd would be proud), I go to collect the results of the essay I wrote two weeks back or so. The essay I wrote on German beer commercials. The essay that I wrote in one flaming afternoon’s creativity. I check the mark. 68. SIXTY EIGHT. I jigged a little in the office, signed it off and left the receptionist smiling. This mark is particularly special for two reasons:

1. It clarifies my passion and love of all things words and translation.

2. It is the single (well maybe second) highest achieved graded essay that I have attained whilst at University.

I felt proud, like I had finally arrived with the other students that attend to learn rather than to test the facilities of the local watering holes.

So the day is going pretty darn well. Then the true highlight occurred. Upon searching in my bag for a pen, I DISCOVER A FIVE POUND NOTE.

This needs an aside on the joys of note finding. It is one of the best personal victories, when you pick up a bag / pair of jeans / jacket that you haven’t used in ages, dive into the pockets and discover £5, £10 or even the fabled gold dust, £20 notes therein. You jump, you cheer, you power punch the air with cries of childhood “Yeeeeeessssssss!”. It is truly glorious. I had one friend who was packing up ready to leave halls at Uni, who discovered whilst packing that he had absent-mindedly left himself a happy trail of £20 delights in multiple items of clothing. I joke not, the guy finished the pack on a £80 high. THAT is a leaving present to be proud of.

Back to the task at hand, I get some lunch and munch through it whilst reading the Telegraph. Twas most relaxing. This was followed by a internet session, where I initiated a Linkedin account (not so much awesomeness, but still worthy of mention. The site is pants though). My University specials finished at my final lecture where, again, we finished early. This one was special. This lecture is a two hour beast, starting at 4 and finishing at 6. SIX. It’s the last one of the week, I’m tired and want to go home. Finishing early achieved this for me. Hooray for early finishes! This then allowed me to catch the early train, which then got me home early for what was to be a special evening; in keeping with a (approximately) 100 year old tradition, we were celebrating Thanksgiving. Cue food in abundance, including a perfectly roasted, honey glazed and rustic sliced Ham. It was a Ham to end all Hams. Hamtabulous, Hamtastic, and Hambastic. Summary, it was tasty. This hammy delight was topped off with, nay, glossed with, further glorified with a wondrous Pumpkin Pie. Copiously coated with whipped cream, this thing was desert paradise, only it was a dessert. The Sahara and Black Forest gateaux have NOTHING on that bad boy.

So yeah, best day ever.

It has further continued today, in that my shift at work was cancelled, and I’m now getting ready to head back up t’ north, in pursuit of a family visit.

Thanksgiving. I give thanks to early finishes, cheeky cash finds and super essay scoring. Thanks to great Hams and Pumpkin desserts.

Thank you all.

Superbowl? Megadish!

It’s Superbowl Sunday time once again.

I have watched the Superbowl every year now since the start of my university career way back in 2003. This may not sound special, but as a European, watching a Superbowl requires certain… commitments to be made. For example being committed to staying awake till half 3 in the morning, watching kneel after kneel to get to see the ceremony. Being committed enough some years to watch alone. Being commited enough some years to watch with someone. Being committed enough to have to explain the rules to someone. Repeatedly.

These things aside, I enjoy my yearly tradition. The game is always interesting (at least for the first half) and the half time shows are for the most part appealing (or… revealing).

I think one thing that I often remember about superbowls is how different each one has been for me so far. My first, a dozen or so first year students crowded round a non license fee TV in halls, not truly understanding the game but watching it anyway. My second, sat in my student let house with a best friend and some beers. My third in an Irish bar in Munich, running up an almighty tab with the same best friend. The fourth was in London, at the Superbowl bash in Battersea park with the same guy, which was ridiculously good – projected images on two massive screens in HD. There was also the opportunity to buy helmets (but later on this transpired to become “opportunity to wish we could afford helmets”). Last year I can’t remember what I did for it, but rest assured it was pleasant enough. That’s not the point.

The focus for this super kitchen crockery reference is my best bud. I have known him for the same amount of time as I’ve known American football.

We met at University, when happy coincidence placed me in the same bedroom as him. At first, when you discover that you’re to share your room with someone you don’t know, you can feel a little nervous, or annoyed. You might soon start thinking about other  situations that may arise during a first year away from home. In all instances, the “at first” thoughts seem like you have drawn the short straw.

Nay I say.

That first year took me further in personal development than 18 years of schooling. Well, probable overstatement there, but you get the picture. I entered the house a shy skinny recluse, I left the house a semi confident alcoholic smoking skinny person. Or words to that effect. It was awesome. We spent the next year living together in a house, where we had a ”gig” stacked basement (musical friends and our equipment combined to create a damp but thoughroughly enjoyable jamming room) and a living room splayed with paintball pellets and pulp fiction posters, the obligatory playstation 2 complete with (i)Grand Theft Auto and (ii)generic football game (this instance it was FIFA). Again, progress was made (so much so, that I met my future wife).

Year abroad came and went (we lived at opposite 8 hour train journeys apart in Germany: few visits could be made or afforded).

Final year we shared with some others, but due to the nature of our courses we spent a LOT of time watching Voyager or Black Books with cups of tea and cigarettes. Yes, there were steps in the right direction. Or should I say steps in’t right direction.

There’s your back story. Brief, yes, but sufficient. This entry is largely a written account of my thanks to him. I don’t know if he’ll ever read or see this, I haven’t written it for him to see, he knows how decent he is. I felt the wider world deserves to hear it though. I mentioned what passed during our time at University, but the real focus is what I took from being friends with him. During the multiple bouts of game playing, dvd watching and beer drinking we talked. I learnt. I learnt to respect everyone, to honour appointments (however significant), to enjoy yourself completely in any situation, to laugh, never to take yourself (too) seriously and most importantly, to sleep in till the evening whenever possible.

Marc, you are a legend.