Day 459: I Am Famous

And not before time, frankly.

Look at this with your own eyes and you will see how. (It is not that exciting, so no need to sit down.)

Day 458: I Am Definitely English

I am not sure what happens, but every time I come to America I turn into a sort of faux-Mitford. I have said the following things in the last forty-eight hours, each without a trace of irony:

1. "Thanks so much. You are kind." (To doorman.)

2. "Gosh, I say! How exciting." (To person bringing me dinner.)

3. "Thanks awfully". (To person selling newspaper.)

4. "Heavens! What fun!" (To person telling me where the sugar is.)

5. "Now, darling, you must forgive me, so stupid, but what are grits, exactly?" (To waiter.)

In other news, there are 385 branches of Starbucks in Washington (DC), each one selling horsepiss disguised as coffee.

On a more positive note, however, here is a photograh of my new best friend. He lives in Georgetown, and is called Foxy. We talk to each other a lot, and then I come back to the hotel, eat $25 sandwiches and drink gin from the minibar. It's heavenly.




(In other news: Is this disturbing? I am not sure!)

Day 456: I Am Lost For Words In Washington (DC)

It is a very pleasant afternoon, and I am walking down Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington (DC) looking at people looking at the White House, when something buzzes past me. It is a man on a thing with two wheels. He looks a bit unstable (in the mental sense; he is very confident on his two-wheeler), but not like a killer. I ignore him, as does everyone else, and keep walking.

Then more people go past on two wheeler things. At first it is a trickle, but after a few minutes they are positively swarming down Pennsylvania Avenue, looking very serious and full of intent, like they are going to do something significant involving the President of the United States of America and a hoe. It is quite scary, as the wheels on the two-wheeler things are quite big, and that makes each person about eight feet tall.



They stop outside the White House gates. The tourists stop looking for the stupid President and look at the people on the two-wheeled things, who are organising themselves in rows. It is not looking good. I hide behind some silent Japanese people. (Not the Spanish people. They are all shouting, which would draw attention to us/me if we were attacked.)

By now they are in a 'serried rank', staring with intent at the White House. Their Leader is talking, but I cannot hear what he is saying, although his voice sounds a bit like Stephen Hawkins'.



It is then I realise that the police (there are five policemen and/or women for each person in Washington DC, and that is not counting the spies, who are everywhere) are not doing anything! They are not even pretending to look insouciant whilst secretly signalling to their secret police friends to come and save us all. In fact, they are lolling on their patrol cars watching the young American people play hockey on rollerblades in the middle of the road, while they sip from cop-sized gallon-buckets of latte skim cappucino macchyoh-toh with peach syrup.

I leave, and start walking down the road to where the other monuments are in Washington (DC). (There are quite a lot.) But then a voice comes at me from behind.

The voice is odd, like a ladyversion of Stephen Hawkins', if he came from somewhere like Alabama. It says one thing and one thing only. It is a bit ominous. "Take care, ma'am, there are sixteen of us on the sidewalk right behind you". They glide past.



I follow them because I am going in the same direction as them anyway. I cannot understand why no-one else is really looking at them or laughing. (I am doing both at the same time, whilst also taking photographs.) I turn the corner, and then I understand.

The Leader is talking to them. "No, that is not where Colin Powell lives, that is The Treasury Department." I look at the two-wheeled things a bit more carefully. There is a word written on them. The word is "Segway®". It is then I realise that what I have been seeing is not an alien attack: it is a very special type of sightseeing tour.

Day 464: I Am Going To Washington (DC)

Tomorrow I fly to Washington (District of Columbia, not the other one). I am there for a few days while a veterinary research pathologist I know goes to a conference with 20,000 other people, all of whom will be talking about cardiovascular something or others.

In the day he will be in a white coat going "yes" a lot to people and sitting in seminars listening to people talking. I, par contre, will be lolling about in an hotel with the whole of Washington (DC) at my disposal!

So come on then. Three whole days by myself, in Washington (DC), with good weather. What should I do? (No jokes about slapping President Bush if you please! He is a cock, I know, but I do not want to be arrested and deported.)

I am particularly interested in:

1. Where to get cake
2. Where to get a good ladywax
3. Pictures and shit
4. Where to get cake
5. Old shit.

Pip pip!

NWM

Day 464: I Am Having The Best Birthday Ever!!!!

Yes I am 38 it is brilliant. I got a red bicycle from a veterinary research pathologist, and it goes zoom zoom up and down roads with loads of gears brilliant. Also I got scrambled eggs and crumpets (just like the ones in England except with weird Gaelic type on them, suggesting that crumpets are Irish, which I do not think they are), for breakfast.

Then I got some thermal underwear (not like that!!!) and some proper Canadian socks. Also there were books and a packet of Bendicks Bittermints in the post and other things, and emails and pictures. I could not breathe earlier; it was all too much.

And then I received a mysterious electronic mail (from the person who sent me the Bittermints), entitled The best birthday present a woman could receive.

Here is what it said:

"Ye gods.... James Blunt singing about a triangle on Sesame Street to the tune of "You're Beautiful". From me to you, with love. x

Here it is. It is really good.



If you are feeling sick, watch this now. It will help you feel better. You have probably seen it before but I am put in mind of it because I was alerted to the existence of these people by the same person who sent me James Blunt, the triangle and the Bendicks Bittermints. It is The Flight of the Conchords.

See it as a present from me, to you, on the occasion of my birthday. Then we can all celebrate together!