Red Light District

So there was this one time Jonathan and I were house hunting, and our Realtor suggested we check out a particular house. We went over and walked in, and were immediately struck by one thing: every window and wall was covered in heavy cloth. We cracked a joke about the inhabitants being vampires and began the tour. Several other factors jumped out.

1. There was a strong scent of smoke, masked by an even stronger scent of incense.
2. Although there were several ashtrays outside, there were also ashtrays in all the bedrooms.
3. The house was listed as three bedrooms, but actually seemed to have been converted into five or six.
4. There seemed to be way more master bathrooms than would be expected.
5. Every door had several locks.

Can you put together what all of these features have in common? If so, congratulations! You are better at this than we were!

Our Realtor called us back a couple of days later and told us that under no circumstances should we continue to even consider that house. We asked why not.

"I just found out the previous owners were arrested for running a brothel out of it."

We didn't buy that house, mostly because of the awkward doorstep scenes we would have had with all kinds of strangers (OK, maybe just one kind, mostly) if we had ended up purchasing it.

Rachel the Uber-nerd

So when I was young and possibly even nerdier than I am now, I thought reading the dictionary was a good use of time. I would find new words and try to work them into my vocabulary. One day, I found the word contemn. It's a good word. The definition is "to view or treat with contempt".

A few weeks later, I found a great opportunity to use it in an essay. There was a character in some book who was extremely contemptuous toward some other character. So I wrote that character A contemns character B. I was pretty proud of myself.

Then the essay came back, with "contemn" circled in red ink with a comment saying, "condemn. Please use spellcheck."  I was livid. But at least some (questionable) good came out of the experience: I stopped reading the dictionary.

Confession: When I said "young" I meant a senior in high school.

Antique Stores

Jonathan likes antique stores. Here's a picture of why:

I really don't. Here's a picture of why:

Seriously, I don't know why there are malformed naked sewn-together two-tone skin dolls dancing in demonic poses, but this is something directly out of my nightmares.

To be fair, I actually don't mind antique stores most of the time, as long as they have real antiques. We went to another antique store that had bins of partially-used, expired cosmetics and nail polish. Honestly, that's just trash, and it grosses me out.

Rachel Vs The Mini

When I leave work in the evening, I come to a light and turn left, then come to a red light, then come to another red light. Although this is clearly poor planning (or maybe evidence of some vast conspiracy against me), I have come to accept that the first two lights are always going to be red, and I plan accordingly. In this case, "plan accordingly" means that I don't accelerate to the full speed limit (40 mph) after I turn left, because why bother?

However, there is a white Mini that I see pretty frequently when I'm driving home. The driver of this car does not seem to share my philosophy. So here's how it goes:

1) I turn left and then my light turns yellow, then red. The other light turns green.
2a) I accelerate to about 30 or 35 mph.
2b) The Mini proceeds straight through the light that just turned green and accelerates rapidly until they are a short distance behind me.
3) The Mini passes me on the right at 50 or 55 mph, then pulls back in front of me.
4) The Mini slams on the brakes, as it is rapidly approaching a line of cars waiting at the first red light.
5) I stop behind the Mini.
6) Once the light turns green, the Mini is stuck behind a line of cars and can't accelerate as much as they would like. Sometimes they try to pass the cars in front of it, either on the right or the left.
7) The Mini moves into the left turn lane at the next red light. I pull up right next to them and we both wait for the light to turn green.

I guess I should probably be more charitable, but the best I can manage is a kind of irritated amusement. Still, better than road rage, right?

The Great Sea Salt Showdown

So you may have heard that sea salt is the best thing ever. So we decided to test whether 1) there is a discernible difference in taste between sea salt and regular table salt and 2) if so, whether sea salt is better.

We wanted to see if a difference existed, and if so, if it would be noticeable in typical use. So there were three types of salt tested in a blinded experiment: plain salt, saltwater, and salt on eggs. For the plain salt, the subject (Jonathan and I both tried it) closed their eyes and was given a plate of salt by the experimenter to sample. The difference in this trial was huge. Jonathan said the sea salt "tasted like the ocean." I wouldn't describe it that way, but the regular salt tasted cleaner and sharper.

Next we took 1/4 teaspoon of each type of salt and added it to 1/2 cup of water. This part of the experiment was double-blind, as I forgot which type of salt was in which cup. There was a difference again, although one was probably not better than the other, and it was much more subtle than the previous stage.

Finally, we decided that nobody actually eats just plain salt, or drinks saltwater, so we wanted to test it with actual food. Neither of us is very fond of salt on food, but we will eat it on boiled eggs. So we boiled two eggs, planning to cut them in half, sample each half with an unknown (to the eater) type of salt, and rate it. I was going to go first. I instructed Jonathan to put 1/4 teaspoon of salt on each half as that was our smallest measuring spoon.

It turns out 1/4 teaspoon of salt makes an egg entirely inedible. Inexplicably, it was worse and saltier than the plain salt we had tried earlier. So we threw that trial out and decided to eyeball the salt on our second egg, which ended up cut into quarters.

Result: I thought the regular-salted egg tasted saltier than the sea-salted egg.  Jonathan thought it was the other way around. I think it's because we weren't actually measuring how much salt we used. Either way, when combined with other food, we didn't think the difference in taste was significant.

And now you know.

In which we all go to the UK

I just got back from two weeks in the UK. It was magical! We did a LOT. Seriously, we rented a car, and we put over 3000 miles on it (thank goodness for unlimited mileage!). This is quite a lot, considering that the longest distance between two points is 600 miles.

The two defining characteristics of our stay were tiny roads and enormous monuments. The roads were only wide enough for one car in lots of places, or two cars practically touching, but that didn't stop them from being two way roads. The theory (and practice) is that when you meet somebody going the opposite way on the 25% grade, one-car-wide road, one of you (probably the one who was going up) reverses back until you come to the passing place, a tiny pullover area that allows the car who was going down to pass you. Now, you might think that this means people drive at a slow and cautious pace. You would be wrong. The speed limit on these tiny lanes is 60 miles per hour. While we went about 30-40 on most, native drivers zoomed past us at probably the speed limit. Now we know where the Brits acquire their nerves of steel. After driving on those roads, anything seems like a piece of cake.

Here are the highlights (and occasional lowlights) of the trip, as recorded in my journal:

Day 1 (Stonehenge and Bath)
British yogurt. When I had it last time, I loved it. It is completely different from American yogurt. When Greek yogurt started to become a thing, I convinced myself that it was the way they have yogurt in Britain, and tried to force myself to love it. After having the real deal again, I can confidently say it is also completely different from Greek yogurt. Good. Now I don't have to feel guilty about not really liking Greek yogurt.
Having tea at the Jane Austen center. So charming! (I guess I really liked food that day.)
Lowlights: I think we've almost died driving about four times.

Days 2/3 (Cornwall)
Cornish pasties and ice cream. (I guess I really liked food every day.)
Tintagel - the most vivid colors and beautiful scenery of anywhere.
The gardens at St. Mawes - they are full of globes of flowers that I love!
Lowlights: Driving through St. Ives.

Days 4/5/6 (Cardiff and South Wales attractions)
St. Fagan's (a great house with enormous spreading gardens) is one of the most beautiful places I've been. I could easily have spent a whole day there.
Pwll Mawr (the old working coal mine) is so fascinating! Our guide was occasionally unintelligible, and seemed so at home deep underground. He was also really short. Maybe this is where the idea of dwarves came from?
Lowlights: We popped off one of the side mirrors as we passed through a tiny bridge. Fortunately we managed to reattach it. (There is a trend to the lowlights.)

Day 7 (Stratford and Sherwood Forest)
The gardens at Stratford. Now I want a formal garden (and a gardener to tend it).
Being where Robin Hood was. So cool!

Day 8 (Castles in South Wales)
Tintern Abbey. I can't decide if it's a memorial to the futility of human effort, or to how much we can accomplish if we put our minds to it.
Castell Coch was designed by a fabulously wealthy man with the goal of creating an authentic medieval exterior and an opulent interior. The juxtaposition of arrow slits and gilt paint was interesting.

Days 9/10 (North Wales)
We went to a slate-splitting demonstration at the National Slate Museum. After an amazing show of skill and knowledge, he asked if there were any questions. "Have you ever worked with slate before?" "No, this is my first day on the job."
Dolbadarn castle - tiny (for a castle), ruined, and amazingly beautiful.
Lowlights: Adele (our lying GPS) told us the drive would be four hours. Try five and a half. (This goes back to the 60 mph speed limit on the world's most dangerous roads.)

Day 11 (Uffington White Horse and Oxford)
Eating at the Eagle and Child. I feel bad for all the other Inklings (besides Tolkien and Lewis) who are only remembered by association.
Rowing on the Thames. Jon was trying to row past another boat, and the oar popped out of the oarlock. He tumbled over backwards.

Days 12/13 (London)
St. Paul's cathedral is the most beautiful cathedral I've ever seen, and my favorite.
There are statues of Wenlock (Britain's Olympic mascot) all over. At first I thought they were really creepy, but they've really grown on me.
Walking to the Churchill War Rooms we passed through a park full of amazing birds. There were pelicans, swans (including gray swans), shorebirds, herons, ducks, geese.... it was amazing! (Until we passed a flock of hundreds of pigeons. Gross.)
Lowlights: Returning the car. About 400 pounds for a scratch on the paint. Ouch.

Unfortunately, I have surprisingly few great stories to tell. So instead I'm going to include two pictures that make it look like I have mad skills in photoshop.

Toddlers and Tiaras, AKA the Worst Show Ever

So, I watched Toddlers and Tiaras tonight (don't judge). I'm appalled. Honestly, it made me kind of sick to my stomach.


There was a four-year-old in a sexy nurse outfit. I kind of want to share the horror. I was going to include a picture of an adult wearing a similar outfit, but then I'd feel dirty for putting that in a post that also includes the word toddler, and I'm not going to search "toddler sexy nurse." Ever. There was another in a sexy cop outfit. Ditto. Gross.


This pageant has an under two division. Even the six-month-olds were wearing more makeup than I did to get married. Seriously, there are parents out there who look at their baby who can't yet walk or talk and think, "Oh, I know what she needs. Let's highlight her cheekbones and bring out her eyes" And then they don't think, "Oh, wait. Let's not, because she's a baby and that would be unnecessary and kinda creepy." Also they were wearing wigs (I assume; most babies don't really have hair, and these babies have heads piled with curls).

No makeup or wig required.

The most disgusting part, though, was listening to the judges. "Oh, her hair isn't perfectly set. Did you see how it was kind of moving?" Oh, the horrors of movable hair! "What we're really looking for in makeup is for the contestants to look like a Barbie." Mission accomplished. Blech. 

Anyone else super weirded out by this?

Oh, and by the way, the prize all this disgusting-ness was designed to win? $500. OK, one mother said she spent $1600 on a new dress for this pageant. That's a loss of $1100 even if her dolled up child wins, not even counting the professional hair, makeup, and nails.