Claire Rides 20

I may not be blogging too much these days ( read: not at all) but my little sister who has far more real adventures, tests of physical and mental prowess and revelations of the soul than I do is.

Claire is currently riding across the united states along route 20 from Boston, Mass to Portland, OR. And lucky for you she is taking the time to write about it, and write about it well.

www.clairerides20.blogspot.com

Much better than me writing about getting over jet lag by eating meatballs and blue cheese while watching Columbo on the telly and my axolotl Pompydoo play with Stephane.

Check her out. Give her love. Try not to get too depressed that the walk home from the grocery store nearly left you winded while she is covering some 85 miles uphill a day while removing ticks from her body and depending on the kindness of strangers to maintain her minimal hygiene.

This one's for you mama

moar funny pictures

What a load of Croc

So I did something recently that I promised myself I would never do. Not only did I promise myself, I gave open looks of disdain to those that did and readily spoke about them and their poor sense of style behind their backs. Ladies and Gentlemen, I confess, I wore those hideous Crocs while flying. Trans-Atlantic.

While I admit that they are extremely comfortable, they also look like a piece of plastic cheese that you would find in a child's grocery store set. I let my croc wearing family and newly converted boyfriend convince me that wearing the crocs on our flight back to England would not only be sensible and practical, but would give my flight a whimsical air. Both of us wearing bright red crocs with wool interior, mine with Minnie Mouse sticking out of one of the cheese holes, boyfriend with Donald Duck. How cute.

I am someone who believes that while being comfortable on a long flight is of the utmost importance, it should never be at the expense of style. I broke this rule and paid for it.

You know you're not wearing cool shoes when adults look at the apparel on your feet with shock and/or pity and young kids run up to play with them. I was wearing toys for shoes. In public.

And just to confirm my feelings that the comfortableness of wearing red rubber on my feet would indeed be cancelled out by the sheer embarrassment of wearing red rubber on my feet our taxi driver put in his two cents.

Interesting shoes, he said. Yes. They were Christmas presents from my Mother in Chicago.
Well, your Mum sure has a good sense of humour, because the last time I saw a lady wearing shoes like that a house fell on her.

It's not Easter anymore folks

So clearly there has been a bit of hiatus from this blog. Now this doesn't necessarily mean that I'm going to be back posting on a weekly basis, simply that I was sick of seeing that slightly cross-eyed photo of myself from Easter. So here are some photos from my recent trip to the Isle of Jersey. Highly recommend. Especially for fans of seafood.
View of Jersey from the plane

Champagne and oysters. A girl could get used to this.

Easter fun

There are some memebers of my family who are of the persuasion that the best part of Easter is the egg salad the day after. For me it was always getting my hands dirty.

they say it's a sign of verility, non?

I rarely talk about celebrities on this blog, which is probably because like most bloggers I secretly (and sometimes not so secretly) see myself as my own little star. But today I'd like to talk about poor bald Britney Spears. I'm sure the news coverage in the states has been the same over here - Celeb on the verge of a nervous break down.

Now her fragile psyche aside (be they rumours or truth), girl looks good bald. Beneath all those extensions; blurred make-up and beer sweat it was easy to forget that Brit Brit is not just a spiralling pop star on her way down but a pretty face too. She is just so purrty. And I'm jealous. I've always wanted to shave my head, but am too vain, too scared, too, well, normal to go through with it. How amazing it must feel to be able to exfoliate your scalp, to let it see sun, to breathe - and to give your hair a whole new start.

Britney - I hope you get the help you need if you do indeed need help, but most of all I hope you enjoy that beautiful baldhead of yours while you can.

Spicy Ham wears a crisp blanket

I've just seen an ad for this lovely looking choice piece of meat - that is right, they are bringing back the Spam Fritter. A slab of spam battered and fried. I'd be interested in finding out why this no doubt light, healthy, all-natural, golden treat had to leave us and what genius decided that we were indeed a nation ready to embrace yet again this spam goodness.

Interestingly enough when I did a search for this photo on Spam Fritters, I found that it is also urban rhyming slang for Shitter.

Enough said.