So, yesterday was mine and Ray’s 5^th wedding anniversary. We celebrated by going into London and just doing typical Ray and Jen stuff… We thought it was a bit ironic that 5 years later we are living in the same place where we had our honeymoon.

Anyway, in the spirit of things, I’ve posted some pics from our wedding. It was so wonderful – just friends, folks we wanted to be there. For the actual ceremony, Niall sung us a Celtic wedding song, and Aaron did our vows. And Aaron and Sloan played for everyone afterward. It was really more of a celebration, than a ceremony, though we did speak our vows and stuff. And it meant so much more than anything else could have done. Yeah, Aaron couldn’t legally marry us, though, so our legal wedding date is, of course, April Fools. :-) But, we celebrate on March 30th because that is the date that actually means something.

Now, everyone has scattered to the four winds. I wonder where Niall is? We haven’t heard from him since he left for Florida a few years back. Aaron is in Arizona. Sloan is doing really well in Colorado. Dain is back in Hillsboro, and I think he is doing pretty well. James Laux went back up to Ithica. Gareth and Sarah are still in Raleigh, but I am guessing they will be moving back home before much longer… We haven’t heard from Cosette in a long time, either.

So, we saw 300 yesterday. I absolutely loved it, as did Ray. It almost made Ray want to start fighting again. (He won't – he gets it in his head every couple of months that he should polish up his armor and start swinging his sword again, but then he loses interest again when he has to decide between his bike and the SCA.) Most of the fight scenes were so beautifully done, though some felt kind of Peckinpah-ish. The shield wall was an accurate depiction, and the wedge couldn't be beaten with cavalry. You could feel the intensity of the action and more than once, you find yourself revelling in the flow of movement, the dance from one enemy to the next… It was an amazing piece of work.

We both found it funny how, of all the movies based on comic books, only Frank Miller's works are so lovingly recreated that it looks and feels just like his graphic novels. You look at the scene of the Persians driven off the cliffs, and you see the reflection of a panel in the book. Other movies are based on the stories and characters, etc. But only Sin City and 300 were direct, live action adaptations of the books.

Of course, typical of everything else around here, there were literally, 30+ minutes of commercials and previews before the movie started. And at least 4 of them were Guinness commercials and two were the annoying PC vs. Mac commercials. Then, after the movie, it was only 7PM, but everything on High Street was closed, including McDonald's and Starbucks… So, we head out, get on an elevator to get to the 5^th floor of the garage. The doors close, and then nothing. The doors don't open back up and the elevator doesn't move… Luckily, I am not claustrophobic, though Ray sounded a little nervous. I hit the alarm button, talk to the lady on duty and explained that the elevator wasn't moving. She first asks if we can go to another elevator. Once I explained that the door wasn't opening, she then asked why did we get in an elevator that was out of service? Well, because the door opened when I hit the elevator call button. If it's out of service, it should not respond to the call button being pressed. So, she says someone will be there momentarily.

It only took the guard about 10 minutes to show up, but when he did, you could hear the walkie-talkie through the doors. "Which one are they in?... Are you sure they are still there?... I don't think anyone is still in the elevator…" So, I call out that we are still in there. He didn't seem to hear. So Ray starts yelling and kicking the door. The guard still seemed not to realize where we were, though I guess he actually did because all of the sudden, the elevator starts to move. And when an elevator is supposed to be out of service, the idea of it moving is kind of unsettling. Anyway, we got out on the 2^nd floor, and walked up the stairs for the rest of the way. Not that big of a deal, but Ray was pretty unhappy about it and wanted me to mention it. Since I sort of blog for him, the story has been told. :-)

I sincerely dislike beggars. I dislike them more here in the UK when a HUGE chunk of my money goes to support those who don't work. I don't want to hear any of this crap about people who have absolutely no other option than to beg. This is a socialist country. The United Kingdom of Great Britain takes care of the stupid and the weak and the lazy and those who are unwilling to do for themselves. (Hey!! Ever hear of Social Darwinism, people?) And they do this with the exorbitant taxes taken out of my paycheck each month. Plus 17.5% V.A.T. on nearly everything, plus council tax that I pay, plus vehicle tax, TV license fee (yes, that is also a tax), plus assorted other random taxes on everything that isn't tea or milk.

So, a beggar walks up to me in the train station last week, while I am getting my coffee, wrestling with my bike, trying to get sugar into the coffee... I very, very rudely told him off, offending most of the people around me. I think that it is because of this, he hasn't bothered me in two weeks.

So, I actually drove to work today because I am going to pick Ray up from the airport this evening. What normally takes almost 2 hours by train took about 1 hour in my car. If I had a motorcycle or even a scooter, it would have probably taken half that time. There are some really odd things about the roads here… There was one spot that went for 3 lanes of traffic to one. But without any merge arrows or indications of who has right of way, etc. Well, this settles it – I am going to do the Compulsory Basic Training and get a little 125 cc motorbike so that I can get my motorcycle license. The hoops you have to jump through are just a bit silly, but…

I finally registered with a GP here, and part of the process is that you have to go into to the doc’s office with all of your prescription medications. Wow. Was that ever fun. The whole thing went something like this:

He demands of me, “What is wrong?”

I respond, kind of confused, “Nothing. I was told I had to make an appointment within 4 weeks of registering with NHS.”

He apparently didn’t hear me. “What is wrong with you today?”

Again, I answer, “I don’t have anything wrong with me today. I am here for my initial appointment.”

He didn’t seem like that answer. So, then he asks all kinds of questions that are mostly questions I answered in their initial form that I had to fill out to become a patient there. I guess reading my answers required too much effort? He didn’t seem to understand that I don’t take baby aspirin to counter the possibility of a DVT due to my Leiden Factor V condition… (The thing is, aspirin is only effective in combating arterial clots due to platelets. LFV causes VEINOUS clots because not enough of the chemical that stops clotting gets produced. Big difference.) Then we move on to my medications. Among them is Nexium – the glorious little purple pill that allows me to still drink coffee, even if it is only in small quantities.

He tells me, “You can’t take that every day because it stops the production of acid in your stomach, and that just isn’t normal.”

I explain, rather gently, that I have to take it every day because I have a tendency towards severe heartburn and I have an eroded esophageal flap thing, etc. We go back and forth on this, and I just gave up. Finally, he prints out a prescription for the UK version of Nexium at half strength, and hands it to me.

That’s it.

Finally, after 30 seconds, he looks up at me, and I ask, “Umm, are you done with me now?”

“Yes, you get that filled at the chemist. Go.”

I am thoroughly impressed by his level of incompetence and arrogance. I might not have always gotten along with Dr. Shoffner’s staff, but at least she was always competent and professional without coming off as arrogant. If she didn’t know something, she would first admit it and second refer me to someone who did know.

Ok, so we are having this discussion at work about the meaning of life. Why? I don’t know, but one guy often brings up really silly topics so that we can take a break to think of something other than PMRs for 10 minutes. So, someone sends out this link to the old “Meaning of Life FAQ”. And, it got me thinking about the theology bit.

A few weeks ago, I was in a training class with another American. All of us in the class ate together in a group, and on Friday, he starts to order a burger, then starts cursing that he forgot it was Friday, and changes his order to fish and chips. This confused me for a minute, until he explained that it was Lent and he can’t eat meat on Fridays. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I sort of remember something about this, and I ask, “Is that a Catholic thing?” He immediately begins to explain that it isn’t a Catholic thing, or even a Christian thing, and has nothing to do with the resurrection at Easter. Instead, some Pope who had been related to the fishing trade proclaimed this rule to make more money for the fish shops. Or something like that. (I probably garbled it really badly.)

Another similar situation… I was in Physical Therapy for my shoulder last year, and one of the therapists was talking to a patient about church. She was talking about how they made sure to go to the early service so it was shorter, but how she hated getting up early in the morning on Sunday.

Anyway, what I don’t understand is that if it is a tenet of your religion, does it matter why? If you think that there is no reason to not eat meat on Friday during Lent, then should you be Catholic? If your god demanding you to physically be in a church on Sunday is bothersome, why bother? I mean, a person’s choice of religion should reflect their basic beliefs. If your religion doesn’t suit you, why follow it? If it is blasphemous to consider changing religions because your current theistic model doesn’t suit you, then wouldn’t it be equally blasphemous to whine about getting up early enough to go to the early service on Sunday because you’d prefer to stay in bed?

I dunno. Maybe it’s one of those things I will never understand.

Anyway, speaking of religions, Ray and I got the Torchwood DVDs and have been watching them this past week. I do believe that Russell T. Davies may very well worship at the alter of Whedon, but unlike so many others he 1) doesn’t forget that he is British, and 2) actually is capable of pulling the off the whole thing beautifully. It’s a great show, though I don’t know that it will ever get to the US because, while it is a sci-fi show based in the Dr Who reality, it is very adult and not family friendly. Ray thinks that if BSG could get shown on SciFi channel, Torchwood could, but then again, BSG didn’t do alien sex gas.

That is all for now.

Well, for all my complaints about rain, etc, we have been having absolutely beautiful weather. It’s been sunny and warm for the last couple of days, which is really great. This weekend, we are going to take the dogs to the park and maybe find some trails to ride.

I don’t have much to say because things are going fairly boringly, straightforward and not interesting. The trains suck. The weather is nice. I wish I could ride my bike all the way home.

So, this weekend, Ray and I decided to go see Dover. It took a bit longer to get there than it should because they are doing work on Brighton Road, which is the major road that we have to take to get there. Don't get me wrong - I am elated to see the road being repaired here. It nears miraculous, and it is a great thing. But, they closed the road before they put diversion signs in place. They had us turn left into this area that dead ended, getting a bunch of drivers absolutely lost. Then, we finally got back out to Brighton Road, turned around and took the road that got us sort of where we needed to go. It was an absolute mess for a very short section of road. (It was still closed this morning, and backed up for miles.)

Anyway, we eventually got to Dover and discovered that there were a lot of cool things to see, if they were open. For example, we wanted to see the Roman Painted House and it was closed. The website said it was open. The sign in front said that it should have been open. But, it was closed. Then there was Dover Castle. I really wanted to see this. But, despite the fact that Ray had a brochure that said it was open until 5, they closed at 4PM. (I’ve since found what I suspect is actually their website, which says they are only open until 4 for until April 1^st.) But, we did get to walk along the White Cliffs (they are more grayish-yellow) and I got some pretty neat pictures. (I will edit and put in a link once I get them posted.) And we got to see a stone age boat, which was kind of cool. I guess we will just have to go visit again soon to see the things we didn’t get to see this time around. I do have to say, we actually picked a good day to do it… The sun was pretty warm and there was no rain the whole time. Sunday, it did nothing but rain the entire day.

I miss home. I miss Marcee. I miss Briggs. I miss El Dorado. I miss my truck. I miss Harris Lake. (Both Hog Run and the lake itself.) I miss my BIG house with a BIG yard. I miss the convenience of knowing where everything is and easily being able to get there. I miss Caribou coffee shops. (Though Sharon has been sweet enough to send me bags of Caribou beans in the mail!) Ray says we will eventually find stuff like that here. It will just take some time.

This past week, I was in a training class with another American who was just over here for the training. But talking to him over this past week made me realize again that I miss my home.