What Not to Do

When someone in a superior position to you at work sends you a text message that reads,

"Have a great time in AMS!  Make sure you only go to museums and not [] [] shops []."

Don't immediately write back,

"Thanks!  Plan on doing a bit of both :)"

Before saying to H, "Wow, Anonymous Boss must be happy today.  He sent me three smiley faces in his vacation text."

Otherwise you might run the risk of H saying, "Let me see.  What smiley faces?"

And me responding, "Oh, my supermarket branded phone doesn't register emoticons from an iPhone."

So H, being the wise man that he is, forwards the message to his iPhone to find that the message actually reads,

"Have a great time in AMS!  Make sure you only go to museums and not ☕ shops ."

Epic fail = telling your boss you're going to smoke 'a bit of pot' while in AMS and visit museums, particularly when you plan on doing absolutely none of the former, unless coffee shops = diamond shops or home decor shops.

No further comment.

Stop, Drop, Bake

This has nothing to do with living overseas, unless you count that the recipe comes from a London-based blogger (although it can also be found all over Pinterest), but you absolutely have to try baking and eating some Slutty Brownies.

I'd post a photo of them in all of their decadence if I hadn't found an empty space on the counter when I wandered in with my camera this morning, only to discover that H had taken the entire batch (less the ones we consumed last night before dinner) to work with him.

But trust me, you have to try them.  They are so easy to make, I used a boxed chocolate chip cookie mix and a boxed brownie mix and they were unreal.  Definitely follow the Londoner's tip of adding a little extra water to the cookie mix to keep them moist.  And the 30 minute baking time was spot on.  The only thing I'll change next time, is substituting double stuffed oreos for the original ones.  That extra thick creamy layer will be oh so tasty.

Excuse me while I wipe the drool off of my chin.  And phone H begging him to bring me back at least once slab of my new favorite food. 

What Making New Friends Looks Like (As an Expat)

Post-it note I left in the kitchen for H this afternoon:

Dear H,

Remember how I came home last week with a Tiffany blue calling card from a new acquaintance?  Well, I've been invited over to her house for wine this afternoon.  If I go missing (aka if I'm not home when you get back from work), please phone the police.

Xoxo,
Anonymous Expat


Addendum: Turns out this note was unnecessary / unhelpful.  1. H never came home from work last night.  2.  I had such a nice time at this non-crazy woman's house that I was parked there for hours without even realizing it and was not cut up into a million little pieces and eaten for dinner.  3.  I was having so much fun that I missed two calls from H...good thing he never saw my note and hence had no inclination to phone the police.

Addendum Two:  The next time I walk to someone's house with a bottle of wine midday, I should probably put it in a bag.  What wouldn't have gotten a second glance in Perth, definitely got some stares here.  Or maybe people were just staring at me since I decided to dress like it is spring since it's now April, despite the fact that it's currently 32 degrees.

The Ultimate Test of a Loving Marriage

After over a year of living in our flat, I realized yesterday that we don't have a single full length mirror.  This cognizance came when I excitedly went to try on two new pairs of pants that had arrived in the mail and couldn't find a single appropriate mirror to see how they looked.  Fast forward eight hours to when H walked through the door from work:

Me: "H, I need you to be my mirror and tell me how these two pairs of pants look."

H: "Umm, maybe you can stand on a chair?"

Me: "No, I need a full length, 360 view, just be honest."

H: "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Me: "Yes, they're just pants, tell me how they look."

A mere ten minutes later (which is quick for me and pants), we had jointly decided to keep the pair I had assumed would be returned and to return the pair that I had been most excited about ordering, thanks to a poor fit.  And not a single mean word or hurt feeling.  Major bonus points to my awesome husband, who also happens to have excellent taste.

Food for Thought

H and I recently spent a few hours in Denmark.  While there we shared a danish and pondered if eating a danish in Denmark made us cannibals?

Sorry H, It's Too Late for a Dowry

Yesterday retirement looked like this:

homemade marmalade filled 'doughnut muffins'

and like this:

 homemade Nutella brownie bites

Today retirement looks like this:

You might be wondering what the above photograph depicts.  Well, that would be my flooded kitchen floor from me mistakenly thinking my washing machine was finished and opening the machine door before it had drained, not once, not twice, but THREE times.

If H keeps up his track record of late nights at the office the floor might by dry by the time he gets home.  If not maybe a muffin will distract him...too bad they are currently unreachable without rain boots.

What True Love Looks Like aka Our Laundry Machine Takes 4+ Hours to Wash and Dry a Single Load

True love is when H thanks me for doing the laundry, when his undershirts go into the dresser drawer looking like this:

 

And he means it.

True love is also when H doesn't mind that I hang my underwear to dry from his (in use) shirt hangers.  Fingers crossed that we don't have any static cling emergencies.

New Birthday Wish List

Dear H,

Since moving from Perth, I've added a few alternative options to my birthday wish list.  While I appreciate the caring motivation behind the desire to get me rec specs, I would much prefer something else.  For years, I've wanted a puppy, but now that we live in the United Kingdom, I would also take a hairy coo:

More specifically, I would love a baby hairy coo:

I still have an outstanding desire for a mercenary, but given our current location, I would happily accept a butler.  One that has good connections to get us into castles and distilleries in the winter season and who is an expert at pouring tea would be preferred.  I know just the person if you can persuade him to come work for us.  I would also greatly appreciate it if the butler was able to make the meager heating systems here warm our house.  For some reason British people think that heating a piece of metal in the corner of a room will warm a whole house, trust me it doesn't.

While they may fail on the radiator front, Brits definitely get an A+ for their seemingly widespread use of heated towel racks.  This falls into the future birthday category (don't worry, I'll still be turning 26), but I would really love to have heated towel racks in all future homes. 

Don't worry H, I haven't forgotten about you.  For your birthday I'm getting you the top item on your list, a pair of dictator sunglasses.  Putin has them, Gaddafi had them, now you can have them.  Might I suggest that you consider adding a white Toyota Hilux to your birthday wish list to compliment them?

Love,
Anonymous Expat