Allison's Wonderland

Brat Alert Brat Alert!

There are two things in this world that I can not stand.  Number one:  Lying, dishonest people.  Number two:  Bratty spoiled children.  When you have a lying dishonest bratty spoiled child you have just combined the two things that I detest the most.  

Bratty random child

Forgive me for this post, but I just had to write about it.  It's more for me to look back on and think, "Wow, this horrible 9 to 5 job I have right now is not that bad in comparison to the stuff that I had to put up with when I was an Au Pair in England," than for my readers, which I hope you enjoy despite that fact that it's mostly for me.     

Incident #1 - The Sick Trampolinist

Back yard with Trampoline

Let's start with story number one shall we?  Names have been changed to protect the innocent. :)  We'll call the younger one Shelly (10) and the older one Sarah (12).  I had to babysit for some reason I can't remember, but it was Shelly, Sarah and I at home.  We decided to jump on the trampoline.  One of the girl's favorite games on the trampoline is crack the egg.  It was 8:45 and the bed time was set for 9:00 pm.  I made this very clear before we even got on the trampoline so there would not be a question.  We jumped for a bit and than I "cracked" the egg two times each.  On Shelly's last turn she would not move for Sarah to go.  She sat there like a stubborn mule and would not move.  So I told Sarah that I would just bounce her.  Well that wouldn't suit Sarah.  She wanted a turn all to herself, so she ends up putting her athlete's infested foot right on the cheek of Shelly.  Well seriously who in their right mind would want that in their face?  So Shelly starts screaming and swatting at Sarah, meanwhile I'm trying to get everyone to calm down and break it up.  This wasn't the first fight of the night I had to referee.  After the series of skirmishes I was fed up and told both of the girls to get ready for bed and go to their rooms.  Their cousin from Houston, Texas had just arrived from the U.S. and was sleeping on the couch as she only had about 3 hours of sleep.  This comes into play later in the story.  Sarah gets all in a tizzy because she can't find her tie for the next day at school.  The girls wear uniforms to school and this is a usual nightly routine as nothing is ever put in a proper place.

Meanwhile why I'm trying to look for Sarah's tie, Shelly starts complaining that she's sick.  When all actuality I know she doesn't want to go to bed.  She was jumping on the trampoline five minutes ago and fighting with her sister.  She had pulled this same exact thing the week before.  She faked a sprained ankle to get attention because she had been cheating in a previous Capture the Flag match with me, Sarah and some neighbor girls.  We were all upset at her and went into the kitchen as she sat outside.  That's when 15 minutes later she faked the injury so people would pay attention to her.  10 minutes later she was up and running in the back yard like nothing ever happened.  After she complains of a stomachache, I calmly tell her that it is best that she go to bed and lie down so as to feel better.  "No NO," she says, "I need some fresh air."  She then sits next to the window in the kitchen which is adjacent to the living room where her cousin is sleeping.  I tell her, "Fine, I will open the windows in your room for you so you can have fresh air while you try to sleep."  Nope that wasn't good enough.  She just starts wandering all around the house like a nomad.  I follow her and say, "Shelly, it is time for bed.  Go upstairs and brush your teeth."  I was trying to be quiet and not yell due to the fact that their seriously sleep deprived cousin was sleeping two feet away from where Shelly and I were talking. 
Sarah is on the phone with her Mom trying to get information on the whereabouts of the tie.  Then Shelly interrupts Sarah and takes the phone away.  I was upstairs looking for the tie and over heard what Shelly was telling her Mom.  It went something along the lines of me screaming and yelling at her to go to bed when she was complaining of being sick and me not doing anything about it, but just screaming.  "Okay, here we go", I thought to myself.  "You wanna play that game?  Bring it on."    Shelly than says that her Mom wanted to talk to me.  I could see that coming from a mile away.  I get on the phone and said, "Hello", all very stern like.  She says, "Shelly tell me that she's not feeling well and that you're yelling at her to go to bed.  Can't you show some sympathy?  Give a glass a water and rub her head?  You need to be sympathetic to her."  I retorted with, "I understand what you're saying, but I honestly have a hard time believing that she was sick when she was jumping on the trampoline five minutes ago."  Do I have IDIOT written across my forehead or something?  The whole time we were talking on speaker and Shelly was standing right there listening to the whole conversation.  "Did the girls do something to upset you, Allison?", she asked.  I responded with, "They were on the trampoline fighting again and I'm very frustrated at the moment."  Shelly is in the corner doing the fake cry.  I was so angry I could feel my cheeks getting hot.  Here I was trying to defend myself when a 10 year old is lying about number one being sick, and number two the fact that I was "Yelling and screaming" at her to go to bed.  It was a huge load of bull.  I told her Mom how I told her she needed to lie down and that I would open the windows, but than Shelly started saying how that wasn't true.  Really?  REALLY!?!?  Shelly then pipes up again and reiterates how I was screaming and yelling and not showing her any sympathy.  I just stood there with my mouth to the floor.  After her Mom hung up the phone Shelly looks at me with a smug little face and just says "Hmm..." like I win you loose, told you so.  I probably could've back handed her right then and there, but I'm not a violent person and I don't hit children.  Especially ones who are not my own.  Oh I believe wholeheartedly in spanking a child, but one that is not my own is a different story. 

I looked at Shelly with hot cheeks and anger in my eyes and asked her flat out if she believed what she had just told her Mom to be true.  She said yes very softly that I yelled and screamed at her to go to bed.  I asked her again if she believed everything she told her Mom was the truth.  She then nodded her head.  I simply said, "Go upstairs and go to bed."  I then removed myself from the situation and went for a walk in the backyard.  If I would not have gone I might have exploded.  Thankfully I had Sarah to back me up in the whole situation.  She knew Shelly wasn't sick and she knew I wasn't yelling and screaming.  She talked to her Mom on the phone and once the Mom was home we got everything cleared up.  Oh and 10 minutes after she gets herself finally up to her room she gets herself a ball and starts skipping around.  Sick?  My freakin foot!  I was so angry though I literally was ready to pack my bags and board the next plane home. You just don't lie about to other people and especially she did it right in front of my face!  The nerve!  The nerve of Jeremy Waterman!

Another Brat

Incident #2 - The Table Setting Rebel

You want to know another pet peeve of mine?  When a child who I watch tells me, "That's not how Mom does it."  Do I look like your mother?  Do I care?  No, I'm not your mother, I never will be, so when Mom is not here things are done differently.  Mom has been away in Morocco for the week, so it has been me, Dad and the girls.  When Mom's away the kids will play. :)  Their Dad was busy with work so I took over making dinner.  No problem, easy peazy, lemon squeezy.  Before Dad went to the office to finish up a few things he asked Shelly to set the table.  Now a table setting is place mats, fork, knife, cup, and plate.  Am I right?  First of all, Shelly doesn't budge for 15 minutes.  She stays sitting in front of the T.V.  I tell her on the next commercial break she needs to come into the kitchen and set the table.  Upon my two reminder's she finally does, and she sets the table for . . . 2 people.  Two?  Why two, I have no idea, because there are 4 people in the house at the moment who are ready to sit down and have dinner.   I have to tell her to come back in the kitchen and set the table for four.  This should be common sense.  At 10 I would've thought that counting would have been taught in schools.  After she gets the extra place settings, I look and see that there are no plates on the table.  "Shelly.  The table needs plates!"  She then tells me that her mother serves everybody in the kitchen.  Reminder...I'm not her mother.  I tell her that plates need to be set on the table as I will be placing the food on the table for everyone to eat.  She then ignores my last comment and goes and sits down in front of the T.V. yet again.  I now realize this has turned into the battle of the wills and I'm not backing down.  If I back down now, she won't listen to me, and she won't respect me for the next two months.  That I can not have. 

The dining room & living room

I asked her four times to set the table with plates.  FOUR TIMES!  I wasn't having this, I just simply wasn't having this.  Threat number one: set the table with plates or the T.V. goes off.  Simply doesn't budge, so I go and I turn the T.V. off.  Well that was met with whining and complaining.  "Why can't Sarah do it?  She hasn't done anything and I've done everything."  I reply with, "I didn't ask Sarah to do it, I asked you and so did your Dad.  Now set the plates.  Everything is ready and the food will get cold."  Reply number two, "I'm in a comfortable position."  Well, WHOOPDIDOO!  You're in a comfortable position?  What are you the Queen of England?  We went back and forth for about a minute and she was not budging and neither was I.  She then says, "Well fine, I"ll get my own plate."  She goes to the cupboard and takes one plate out.  It would've taken her all of three seconds to pick up three more with it, but she was just being a stubborn little rebel and would NOT do what I asked her to do.  I picked the plate up off the table and set it back in the cupboard.  I told her if she didn't grab the other 4 plates, that she wouldn't be eating at all.  She then has the audacity to call me lazy, and asks why I can't do it.  That's where I almost lost it.  Me.  Lazy? 
I wake up at 7:45 every morning and get HER butt out of bed.  I make HER lunch, to HER liking.  I make HER breakfast.  Make sure all of her stuff is together for school.  Empty the dishwasher, reload the dishwasher clean all the kitchen counter tops.  I vacuum the music room, living room, dining room, kitchen, and conservatory.  I take care of the guinea pigs and make sure the dogs are fed, walked, and taken care of. I do two loads of laundry per day which means folding, ironing and hanging up wet clothes which are not mine.  I dust all the rooms that I vacuum including both girls rooms.  I vacuum the upstairs and clean both bathrooms meanwhile keeping all my stuff in order and clean in my room.  LAZY!?!?!  Really?  Thankfully her Dad walked in and intervened.  That's when the tears started coming.  I can't deal with fake crying tears.  She starts telling this cock and bull story that's not true and twisted and as she's trying to make up answers to make me look bad I said the exact story that happened and she couldn't answer with a thing.  Meanwhile all the food is cold, and no one has plates.  Her Dad then makes a "deal with her" because I've done things differently and he starts to explain how things are normally done.  I replied with, "that's fine, but this is the way we're going to do it tonight.  I wanted Shelly to set the table."  She then complains that Mom normally warms up the plates and that I didn't do that.  What's the point of a warm plate if all the food going onto it is cold anyway?  UGH the irony!!!  They strike a deal and finally we sit down to eat after the food has been ready for 15 minutes.  Hopefully my experiences that I take away from all this will make me a better mother.  Something good has got to come out of me putting up with all this crap?  RIGHT? :)

Oh, the life of an Au Pair . . .

 

E.B. & Jane

The Royal Ascot races. I've been destined to go  ever since I was a small girl who was obsessed with the movie "My Fair Lady."  I would run around the house and sing the songs, and after being in the Musical my Senior year of college, I just had to go.  During the show I was one of the spectators with my friend Dan Martin and it was our most favorite scene out of any of them!  We even made up our own names.  Him being E.B. and I was Jane.  It was some of the most fun I've had on stage.  

Ascot Outfit

Anyways, I've always wanted to go and at last I finally made it.  But it honestly took somedoing. For real. On Wednesday I went shopping with a girlfriend up in a place called Uxbridge. I only wanted to look for a hat but instead found a dress, tights and a hat. Just my luck. It meant spending money I didn't have.  I did my research the night before about dress code, what you can bring in, and how exactly I was getting there.  Again, I don't have a car here in England, so I have to rely on public transportation.  Something I hate doing!  I like to be in control, what can I say? 

Ascot Gavot Face

Wendy dropped me off at the main bus station in town.  The bus was suppose to arrive at 11:06.  I was waiting at 11:00 just in case it decided to come early.  It was 11:15 and I received a call from Wendy saying how she overheard that the buses were on strike and how I might not be able to get one.  Great!  Well after talking with two little old ladies at the stop they assure me that I'm fine and that the bus was running.  On the way to Slough, which is an arm pit and no one around here likes it, I met a very nice couple who I stayed and talked to awhile at the bus station coffee shop.  It was then time to board another bus.  The thing with public transportation is a trip that would normally take you 30 minutes in the car ends up taking 2 hours.  This was the case today.  I was racing against time as well, being that the royal parade where the queen comes in was at 2:00.  At the rate I was going I wasn't going to get there till 4:00 in the afternoon. After talking to the bus driver, I found out that the bus to Ascot, really wasn't going to Ascot at all as they were routing traffic around the stadium.  Just my luck.  I decided to stay on the bus and see just where it would drop me off.  I HATE traveling by bus just for the record.  It makes me a nervous wreck!  

Walking to Ascot

After taking my seat, I found a nice older gentleman to talk to on the bus ride to Ascot.  He was very informative and told me all about the olden days when he use to go to Ascot.  How the Silver Ring use to be so nice (the peasant seats which I had purchased) but isn't anymore.  We also got into politics and everything else you could've imagined.  It was a fun ride.  I also talked to another older lady (Wendy makes fun of me by the way, because I just love talking to the older crowd) who was having a bad day, but I tried to make it better with my funny anecdotes.  Don't know if it worked or not.  Thanks to my old man friend on the bus he knew exactly where the bus was dropping me off and told me exactly where I should go.  THANK YOU OLD MAN!  He also told me who I should bet on in the races.  The race at 3:45 had a horse named "Laugh Out Loud" who was competing.  He told me I should bet on him and I gave him my word that I would.  I personally wanted to bet on the jockey who would be wearing the pink and white colors as I thought they were the prettiest.  But since I gave him my word, Laugh Out Loud it was.  

Ascot Race Course - Established 1711

After walking up the hill for about 10 minutes I saw the Royal Race Course in sight.  Let me tell you just how stupid I felt walking in there.  Number one I was wearing flats.  My purse held my heels which I was waiting to put on later.  Beauty is pain, but I wasn't about to start the day off being in pain, so I waited.  After seeing all the women in heels I quickly switched right there on the street.  Next I felt like an idiot for taking the bus because everyone arrived in limos, Mercedes-Benz, Jaguars, Rolls Royce, etc.  I looked like the little poor peasant.  As I was walking I couldn't help but notice all the outfits.  They were absolutely spectacular!  Who cares about the horses...I came to see the clothes!  The hats were out of this world amazing, and all the men were in tails and top hats.  Just like the movie!  I loved it.  I felt like a kid in Disney World.  After passing the Royal Enclosure, and the Grandstand seats, I was on my way to the Silver Ring where the peasants go.  By the time I got there my feet were killing me in my heels.  But I did not see one girl wearing flats.  Not a one.  http://www.ascot.co.uk/

The Queen and Duke of Edinburgh

Once there I was in awe of all the sights, sounds, smells, and well the people.  It was close to two in the afternoon and some people were already hammered.  Yikes!  I ran over, well not ran over, because I was in terrible heels, but I hurried over to the track in order to get a good glimpse of the Royal Parade.  The Queen was coming!!  She rolled right past us dressed in her little purple outfit with her little purple hat.  I was on the lookout for Kate, but never saw her.  I guess she didn't come to the races.   That was kind of a let down but I wasn't about to let it ruin my day.

The Grand Stand - I will be there next time!

My 5 Pound Bet

Horse racing is all about the betting. I'm not normally a gambling person but since I was having a day at the races, I needed to bet. I didn't have much money with me and I knew I had to get a taxi ride home so my funds were limited. Since I promised my old man friend on the bus I would bet on "Laugh Out Loud", which I personally thought was a stupid name for a horse, I was true to my word and put 5 pounds down that he would win. My odds were 4 to 1 so if he won I would get 20 pounds back. I went up into the stands to watch the race. As we waited for it to start, there was a serious commotion coming from the stands. I looked over to my left and two guys dressed in suits were going at it swinging fists at each other. I wanted to start yelling "Fight! Fight! Fight!" but didn't. They started head butting each other. It was super funny because they were dressed so nice.  Oh...just a day at the Royal Ascot races. :)

Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady

The race began!  I thought that they still fired a gun to set off the races, but in all actuality they just open the stalls and that's the start.  You never really know it was coming.  While I was sitting in the stands I heard lots and lots of things.  In the movie, My Fair Lady she gets in trouble for saying, "Come on Dover!  Move your Bloomin @$$!!"  Hence the title of my blog, but here in the stands I was hearing much much worse.  You can only imagine what all I heard.  It just was ironic because poor little Audrey Hepburn got in trouble for ass, and here I was surrounded by a plethora of foul language.  Where is the Class PEOPLE?   Anyway, back to the race.


So as the horses came around the Silver Ring, the whole stands went into an uproarious cheer.  It was fun and amazing.  The horse I bet on, number 8, was no where to be seen, but guess who was in the lead?  You guessed it, the pink and white jockey who I was going to bet on, had not my little friend on the bus told me to go for Laugh Out Loud.  Oh the IRONY!  Number 4, pink and white, ended up winning.  The horses name was Fallen For You with odds of 12 to 1.  I would've mad 55 pounds!  Ugh I was so mad.  My horse didn't even rank.  He ended up sixth.  This is why I don't bet because I suck at it.  The race I bet on was called the Coronation Stakes.  I wanted to bet on others, but I knew that I was looking at about a 50 pound Taxi ride if not more.  No more betting for this girl.  Meanwhile my stomach was growling so in between races I had to grab some fish and chips for 7.85.  My bus friend warned me to eat before I went, but who wants to do that?

The Silver Ring Main Tent

Waiting for the Race

It was a lively day.  Very exciting.  On the Queen's Vase race, the Queen's Horse, Estimate, came in 1st place.  This was a huge deal being that it's the Queen's Diamond Jubilee year and all.  I'm wondering if it was actually rigged.  We'll never know.  The last race of the day was the Buckingham Palace Stakes race where I wanted to bet again, but just didn't.  Eton Forever came in first and Jamesie in second.  After the final race I decided to put the flats back on and started walking toward where I thought I'd pick up my Taxi.  As I walked back I observed a lot of drunk people.  Women in their hats that were passed out, and men who were swinging around trees doing "pole dancing".  I was all quite entertaining but I was tired and ready to be home.  I called Taxi Tom who really isn't a Taxi driver, but is at the same time and he said he'd be there in about an hour.  Traffic was terrible, so I patiently waited in a little bus stop.  One drunk girl in front of me started carrying out a huge metal sign that said "Pedestrian Crossing.  Please stop at red light," which was bigger than her.  That was also amusing.  The things people do.

The Race Course

At the bus stop I met several interesting people.  First I met a man and his wife who were obviously drunk but were very pleasant company.  They were so funny and interacted with each other how I want my husband (if I ever get one) and I to act when together.  He asked me where I was from and when I told him Virginia he started singing, "West Virginia, Mountain Momma . . . "  He got the whole bus stop and street corner singing it.  It was pretty funny, but I informed him he had the wrong Virginia, but that he was close. :)  After chatting with them for awhile as they waited for their taxi, randomly the lady's friend gets down on her knees and starts pulling at the lady I'm talking to's tights.  Her husband pulls out a camera and begins filming.  I'm sitting there thinking to myself, "What the heck are they doing?"  She then began to explain that every time they go out and one of the women's tights gets a hole in them, they have to be ripped off right then and there.  I just laughed and watched as her friend and husband just started ripping off the her tights.  She just sat there nonchalantly like it was a very common occurrence.  It was so bizarre and so incredibly funny.  I was definitely entertained in the hour that I waited for Taxi Tom.

Starting Stalls

After my tight ripping friends left, and we said our goodbye's like we had known each other for a years, another man sits down next to me and starts smoking a cigarette.  He then begins to ask me if I had a good day at the races and if it was my first time.  I told him that it was and that I had a great time, but didn't win anything.  I then asked him if he had had a good day and if he won any money.  He then told me that his horse, Jamesie, came in second in the last race.  Here I was thinking that okay he put money on a horse for second place and won.  After chatting for awhile, come to find out he's the horse's owner/trainer and he got to meet the Queen and prance around in the Royal Enclosure.  He was wearing a top hat and tails, and was such an extremely nice man.  He was Irish to top it all off, which are some of my favorite people ever.  I asked him how much he had won in the whole ordeal and he just says, "A little".  Oh to be rich and win horse races!  Must be nice.

Finally taxi Tom arrived and I was off for home.  I'm glad I didn't have to jump on public transportation and switch 5 different buses.  It was nice to just sit down and relax and listen to Taxi Tom banter about politics.  Once at home I asked Taxi Tom how much I owed him.  He said, for a 40 minute cab ride, in which he had to sit in traffic for hours, he only charged me 20 pounds.  I was flabbergasted!  I thought it was going to be at least 40!  Oh what a nice man!  I waved him goodbye and promised to make him brownies one day.  Once I made it upstairs to my bed, I just passed right on out.  My dream had come true and I can finally cross The Royal Ascot Race off my list!

Results of the day if you're interested

 What's a girl suppose to do when nobody is free to do anything?  Sit by herself on the weekend and twiddle her thumbs?  Not this GILL!  It was time for a "Me Party" and I was about to have one all weekend!

Wendy had told me earlier in the week that Bill would be out of town and that I was free to go somewhere on the weekend if I liked.  This is not a normal occurrence as weekends are normally when their band plays and I have to babysit.  There was always London, but London seemed more of a day trip as it's only a 30 minute train ride away.  I also wanted to go to Bath, Stratford-Upon-Avon, Cornwall, the White Cliffs of Dover, and Stonehenge.  But after watching Sherlock Holmes 2, my mind was made up that I would have to go to the seaside town of Brighton.  I never really had a desire to go to Brighton before seeing the movie, but afterwards, it piqued my interest and I was sold after visiting their tourist website.  I bought my train tickets online for super cheap, got a cheap hotel right on the seaside and was set to go.

Victoria Station

I left early that morning to fetch a 9:56 train into London.  I had never been into London by myself before so this was an exciting little adventure.  Come to think of it, I've never really been on vacation by myself before.  This was a first time for me and I was very looking forward to it.  Victoria station is absolutely massive.  Never knew it

Just enjoying the train ride

was going to be so big.  They had little flags all waving up all over the place.  I love Union Jack.  He's just so pretty.  I had time to kill so I visited some of the shops.  I was very tempted to buy a London pin, but knew I should wait till I really actually "do" London. Anyway, I hopped on my train and didn't have too much trouble finding my little place to go.  Although in my train car I got stuck next to some really obnoxious people.  Like REAL obnoxious.  The worst!  Umm...and I kind of look scary in the picture, but whatever...:)

Victorian Clock Tower

The Royal Pavilion

The train ride only took about 50 minutes and once I was in Brighton, I was excited to hit the town.  The train station is old and Victorian on the outside.  I love this place because it's like a Victorian Myrtle Beach.  The weather was a little chilly but not too bad considering the kind of weather I've been experiencing since I got here. I got out my little map and made my way to the Royal Pavilion and gardens.  Now the Royal Pavilion is the building that looks like it came out of India.  It does not look like it belongs in the middle of a British seaside town.  I took some pictures on the outside and decided to leave the inside for the next day.  I was all about going to the sea so I headed down to the Brighton Pier.  The Brighton pier is such a cool spot.  It looks kind of like the Santa Monica Pier (which I've never been, but have seen pics) but with a Victorian spin. The pier is so beautiful and I loved the history that is involved with the place.  During WWII half of the pier was taken out and the rest was heavily mined so the Germans wouldn't be able to land.  Brighton is right by the English channel and only about 50 minutes from London, so it was a serious entrance point for the Germans. 

The Brighton Pier

Insert Handsome Man in Face Hole

On the pier, I met a nice little couple who I asked to take a picture of me alone by Philip and the Queen, and Kate and Prince William.  Did the little stranger get the whole shot?  No.  I even asked if he would take it twice.  This is what's annoying about traveling by yourself.  No one to take good pictures of ya.  I didn't want to ask him again, so I

Yummy!!

just thought forget it.  Found myself a nice little spot on the pier and ordered none other than the British classic of Fish and Chips.  It was so yummy and only 6 pounds 45.  I almost got attacked by a seagull but I held my ground.  I may have held my ground with the seagull but I was totally bested by the ketchup packets. What are French fries or shall I say chips without ketchup? I sat there and tried

On the Pier

to open six different packets and not a one would even budge. I felt a little like I was Candid Camera or something because it was such a joke. Bizarre. I finally had to just eat my fries without ketchup. Which is not as good for sure.  After walking around the pier I decided it was time to head to the hotel for a little thing I like to call a nap. :)  I walked down to the King's Hotel and I honestly wasn't expecting too much for the price I paid, but I was happily surprised.  The hotel was right on the water and was beautiful.  There was a nice Italian man too who was working at the front desk.  My heart will always have a soft spot for Italy and Italians, so I felt like I knew him.  My nap felt absolutely wonderful.  I felt like I had walked for years.  It was time for me to do more walking once again.  I was off for a night at the theater!

The King's Hotel

 My dinner for the evening?  A Krispy Kreme doughnut and a Cappuccino.  Disappointment number one, they didn't have the doughnut I wanted.  They actually had hardly any selection but remember it was like 6:30 at night.  Secondly, the cappuccino was the grossest I've ever tasted.  Yuck.  Krispy Kreme you totally let me down.  I grabbed my ticket at the Theatre Royale for only 12 pounds and then had to walk around and find something to do as the show had about an hour left till it started.  I sat on the lawn of the Royal Pavilion and just people watched.  It was very interesting.


The show I was seeing was based on Agatha Christie's novel and was called "Murder on the Nile."  It was a straight play.  I often prefer musicals, but I wanted to see a show, so here I was.  The first act was brilliant.  I absolutely loved it and I was sitting in a 205 year old theater which made the whole experience even better.  Kate O'Mara was absolutely hilarious.  She played an older lady who was on the cruise boat on the Nile and I couldn't stop laughing.  It was kind of one of those embarrassing things where you're like gutteral belly laughing while the people next to you are only chuckling.   Reminds me of my friend Brian back in college who would do that at every play and you would always know he was there.  People kept looking at me, but I didn't care because I was enjoying myself. :)  Other than the disappointing dinner at Krispy Kreme, my second disappointment for the evening was after the first act was over, I stood up to go to the restroom, and what did I find?  A big wad of gum stuck to the bum of my pants.  GREAT!  I only brought one pair of jeans for the trip so I had to wear the same pants again tomorrow.  I was NOT happy.  I headed to the bathroom to try and pluck off the gum on my pants.  I mean seriously who does that?  And in a 205 year old theater too.  People have some respect!   I got most of the gum off my pants and angrily told the usher about my seat.  I was then moved to the lower level onto a better seat with a better view, so I wasn't too angry.  The show was wonderful!  I was not looking forward to the walk home though.  I had my pepper spray out for everyone to see as there were drunks and weirdos all over the street.  YIKES!  Don't let my father know. :)  I went down to Pebble Beach and took some really cool night photos of a Victorian Band Stand.  Afterwards I went and sat at the hotel bar and had a sandwich.  Told you...Me Party with a Table for One.  Ha Ha!  Bed never felt so good!

Victorian Band Stand at night on the beach

Not only do these two words look very very similar, they are extremely confusing to a newcomer in the U.K.  At home French fries, are well, French Fries, and chips are well, crispy salty wonderful little pieces of potato.  Also known as potato chips.  No confusion there.  Not sure which British man decided to give the name crisps to potato chips and chips to French fries, but I have ordered on several occasions the wrong thing.  It's frustrating when you want a piping fresh hot plate of french fries dipped in ketchup and other wonderful sauces, and come to find out you get a bag of regular old Walker's potato chips (British version of Lays).  Crisps in the States are normally a nice fruity little dessert covered in brown sugar, flour, and other delectable little things like vanilla and almond.  You have apple crisp, cherry crisp, blackberry crisp, etc. normally served with a big spoonful of vanilla ice cream.  So how can a crisp be a potato chip?  You see my dilemma here?  It is definitely confusion central and I'm hoping by the end of the summer I will have it down.  Although that won't really matter, seeing as I'll be back home in the States.  Oh the IRONY!

Utility Room Side1

So I've been spoiled.  Very. . . very spoiled.  I don't normally admit that, as growing up my parents pretty much made me work for most of the stuff that I got.  I obviously had food, shelter, etc., but if I wanted anything specific when it wasn't around Christmas time or my birthday, I had to pay for it.  This is a different kind of spoiled.  In Italy Simona wanted me to spend time with Mattia when he was at home and on weekends while she and Gian were working in Prato.  We played Uno, had picnics, went on adventures, and watched T.V. together.  The only thing I was responsible for, other than Mattia of course, was keeping the upstairs tidy which consisted of my room, bathroom, and a little sitting area.  No big deal.  I'm a pretty clean person, so keeping the upstairs clean was cake.  I also helped with kitchen duties, took out the trash, emptied the dishwasher, kept Mattia's room tidy, that sort of thing.  I was never asked to do those things though, it was all on my own accord.  I just wanted to be a little helper. :)  More oftentimes than not, Simona would even get Mattia up and take him to school.  That left me to sleep in.  Like I said, I was spoiled.

Utility Room Side 2

Here in the U.K., you can just call me Cinderelly.  The girls I "watch" are 10 and 12.  I quote "watch" because they're old enough to take care of themselves, and don't really need anyone to look after them per say.  Really they just need a referee to break up their fights when they get really nasty.  I'm not exactly sure what I thought when I signed up for this gig, but it definitely wasn't what I am doing now.  Here's my schedule . . . I wake up at 7:45 to get Ellie up for school.  Ellie HATES to get out of bed, which is understandable.  I hate it too.  Waking up is one of the worst things a person can do in the morning.  I go in and try to be nice with waking her up.  Sing a little song, you know that kind of thing.  When that doesn't work, I get my iPhone out and turn on the most obnoxious alarm.  When

Mopping Old Fashioned

that doesn't work, which it doesn't work often, I fling the blinds open.  After doing that Ellie complains and cries about how it hurts her eyes.  Of course it does.  That's the point.  I want her to get up.  After this back and forth goes on for about 15 minutes I head downstairs because I'm pretty fed up.  This morning she told me to, "Get OUT!"  Go Away! You don't understand!"  Understand what?  The fact you don't want to get out of bed?  Oh I understand perfectly well, because I was in that position about 15 minutes before you.  After being screamed at, I walked downstairs and made her lunch.  Before making her lunch though, I had to clean up the mess that Sophie, who is the 12 year old, just left out.  Milk was lying on the table, cereal still in a bowl along with her spoon.  I wasn't able to put it in the dishwasher because the dishes were clean in there.  I had to hand wash all of the dishes from the previous night's dinner because we were out of dish washing detergent.  So, that being said, I had to unload the whole dishwasher before cleaning up Sophie's mess.  After getting Ellie's lunch packed and ready to go, she comes crying downstairs saying her sister stole her head band.  So I calmly tell her to find another one.  She then shouts that she doesn't have another one.  That's when I walked upstairs to the bathroom to find a whole box full of head bands.  Really?  You couldn't just choose one of those?  Dear dear dear....

My Laundry Prison

After being accused of moving her brush, which I didn't, I get back to cleaning up the kitchen mess.  I get the dogs clean fresh water, and let the hamster's loose so they can frolic in the garden.  The not finding things is a routine with Ellie, and Sophie as well.  I think I can put the problem to the fact that they NEVER put anything away themselves and are extremely unorganized.  I don't know how they can live with that.  Most of the things I own have their proper place and can be found accordingly in their place when I need them.  Yesterday morning Ellie couldn't find her tie.  She thought it was underneath her

Some of my day's work.  iPod is a Must!

desk.  Don't ask me why it was there in the first place, but it definitely was not there after we searched for it for 20 minutes.  After Sophie was off to school, I was off to clean.  First I started with laundry.  I ironed a huge stack of laundry that will probably just be stuffed in some cupboard somewhere, so there's really no point in me ironing, but I do it anyway with a happy smile on my face.  I have ironed more clothes in one day for this family than I have in my entire life.  In the USA we have a little thing called a dryer which works wonders for wrinkled clothes.  I guess in the UK they're non existent.  I folded a huge rack's worth of the family's clothes and put them in their "prospective" places.  I put Wendy and Bill's clothes in the office as Bill hadn't woken up yet and I didn't want to disturb him.  After laundry, it was vacuuming time.  This is something I do every day probably twice a day.  There's carpet even in the bathroom.  Not use to that for sure.

Mess I made while cleaning the kitchen

I took to dusting by using this little spray can and a little cloth.  I also took out a big bag of trash and took out some of the recycling.  After putting things away and hoovering all over the house, it was time to walk the dogs.  According to the skeleton of a schedule I should be done working at approximately 9:45.  I'm not sure in what universe I could've gotten all that work down in two hours, but by the time I took the dog's for a walk it was 11:00.  Did I mention my hours were suppose to be 7:45 to 9:45 in the morning?  After picking up some lovely poop that the dogs discarded on our walk it was time for me to flee.  The only time I can really get any kind of rest is when I'm out of the house.  Otherwise, if I'm in my room with the door closed I get tasked with extra work.  That's why I go to my favorite coffee shop called Caffe' Nero and write these lovely Blog, which I know you love reading. :)  

Now I don't mean to sound ungrateful in anyway, which I totally probably do right now.  It's just I didn't realize that I was going to be an extremely underpaid live-in  maid when I took this job.    I'm just feeling a little bit overworked, underpaid and neglected at the moment.  What's a girl to do other than write about it? :)

I know how to ride a bike.  I've been riding one all my life and was taught at a young age, just how this is accomplished.  So how is it I came to fall on my face three times today?  Let's start at the beginning shall we?

Now I know I still have a lot of Blogs to catch up on, Paris, being home, and my English home, but I had to write this one down.  I decided today to go to a place called Black Park which, after Google mapping, is only 3.8 miles away from my house.  3.8 miles really isn't much on a bike, but I seriously almost died about 3 different times on my ride there.  First of all I wasn't wearing a helmet and was leery about riding on the road as the roads here in the UK are pretty narrow.  They do have sidewalks, and I decided to ride on it in order to avoid colliding with a car.  Well I didn't realize how dangerous this was either, because on the side walk was grown up bushes that kept hitting me in the face and almost had me cycling in the road anyways.  I wobbled about 4 different times enough to almost knock me in the road.  After passing the cutest little cottage that was decked out for the Jubilee weekend, and a typical red phone booth, I had a huge hill to climb.  Huge hill plus no sidewalk, plus no helmet equals disaster.  My legs were burning so bad and I was out in the middle of the road going into oncoming traffic.  Can we say dangerous?  I'm not normally a person that thinks about death all the time, but as I saw those oncoming cars, I thought it was seriously the end of me.  So after making it up the huge incline, which more seasoned bikers might think it wasn't much of a hill at all, I decided to choose life and head back the way I came.  I will say, I want to attempt this ride again as Black Park is a beautiful place and was one of the places used in the filming of Harry Potter, and Snow White & the Huntsman.

That was the beginning of my biking woes.  Later in the evening I headed out at 7:40 in order to meet up with a bunch of other Au Pairs in the center of town.  After getting the lights on my bike all straightened out, as I was going to be biking a night, I left the house at 7:47.  Now from the house into town is about a twenty minute walk, and I was thinking twenty minute walk = 10 minute bike ride.  Well, that is, if you're not an idiot.  We live in the valley of two large hills, so I walked my bike up to the flat part.  That's where I attempted to get on.  Now I'm short.  I have been all my life.  When I took the bike out previously, it was fine as I was wearing athletic pants and sneakers.  When I tried this time it was a bit different as I was ready to go out for the evening and had jeans and my cowboy boots on.  I swung my leg over the side, missed the pedal and since I was too short for the bike and my seat was a little higher than I remembered I went crashing down to the ground.  That was fall number one.  I picked myself back up, looked around, hoping no one was watching, and walked a little farther on to see if I could find a flatter spot.  I made sure my right pedal was up so as once I climbed on I could immediately pedal.  Attempt number two went worse than the first.  As I swung my leg over, I entirely missed the pedal.  Pedaled air for maybe .5 seconds and crashed down on the sidewalk as a lovely family of four were driving by in their minivan.  Not only did they witness my embarrassing display, but as I fell to the ground I heard the loud nightmarish sound of material ripping.  That material would be my jeans.  Which, I'll admit, might have been a little bit too tight for bike riding, but nonetheless it was right in the butt.

At this point, I was extremely frustrated, embarrassed, sweaty, cranky, and wanted to kick the bike down the street and leave it there.  I finally calmed down and got myself together, thinking whatever I do I can not stop this bike on my ride into town.  Otherwise I'll fall again and it might be for a crowd of people this time instead of a nice little family in their car.  That's when my light, that I had strategically attached to the back of my bike decided to fly off.  My dilemma was, do I turn around and pick it up risking the embarrassment and hurt of falling again, or do I keep trucking along hoping it will be there on my ride home?  Since it wasn't my bike and it wasn't my light, I did the good samaritan thing and turned around & got it.  To my happiness, when I mounted the bike again, it went a bit smoother than my previous two attempts.

I was all high confidence once I reached the main road.  I even rode out onto the road in order to cross to a place known as "the commons".  I crossed the busy main road without stopping my bike and went full throttle as to make the curb.  Here in the UK they really don't have those nice ramp like things that ease you into the sidewalk.  It's just big blocks that you kind of have to hop over.  I was coming at it sideways.  I really thought I was going to make it.  Like I said, I was all high confidence, hit the curb full throttle . . . and fell flat on my hands and knees.  "Seriously?  SERIOUSLY!?!" I shouted, as I gained the attention of several cars driving by and a nice little English man on his bike.  He just looked and laughed at me like I was a perfect idiot.  Oh wait...I was.  I laughed it off, as I normally do when I feel awkward in situations, and started walking my bike through the commons.  I wasn't about to get back on that puppy.  That's when I checked the time and saw that it was 8:05.  I was supposed to be there at 8 and was a little over halfway there.  UGH...back on the bike I went, a little scared and afraid.  I made it to the hotel where we all were meeting, tired, bruised physically and ego WAY bruised and very sweaty.  As I parked my bike and locked it up, I gave it a good kick for good measure.  I think it got the better of me though as my butt will KILL tomorrow.  Oh well, at least I lived to tell about it. :)