Yesterday the news said the cold wind from Russia is blowing across SouthEast England. It started to snow lightly and my son was even saying he’s so happy about it.

This morning we woke up and the snow was a foot-deep at least. No school. The trains are chaotic and the public bus are suspended in London.

This is the thickest and most consistent snow I’ve seen in my 8-years here in London. According to the news, this is the thickest in the SouthEast in 18 years.

Well… now at least pogiBoy’s experienced a semi-proper snow. Not the melt-in-an-hours’ time dud.

One-by-one emails started arriving in my crackberry announcing that such and such person will be working from home. I followed suit, there’s no point wasting time when I can work in my warm, comfy home.

We built a snowman before I sat down to work. I want to make it bigger, but it’s hardwork! Got tips?

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re: Title… this is a well known excuse given by the Rail/Underground to announce service disruptions due to snow

I’m not as busy as I was in Summer and Autumn but still busy enough to be dog-tired every day. Ugly Betty was the only show on telly I actually follow. But Channel 4′s stopped with Season 2.

Last month though, pogiBoy and I chanced upon a BBC series called Merlin. It’s shown every Saturday. It’s escapism at its best. I love the special effects.

Smallville started almost the same way, Light plots but with witty dialogue, easy on the eyes cast… Hubby said Merlin was almost a copy-cat. That maybe but I’m long over the convoluted youngish Superman.

Season 1 just ended but to those interested, you can watch all 12 episodes on BBC’s iPlayer.

Actually, you the iPlayer’s the first tax-payer-funded BBC project that I’m really happy with. You can watch segments you missed, even the US cult Heroes.

After weeks of speculation and doubts, we’re finally going. Hubby had dreamt of visiting the Theater of Dreams eversince landing on English soil. And this Saturday it’s finally going to happen.

We’re going to say hello and goodbye at the same time.

It’s Ole Gunner Solskjaer (sols-shire) testimonial and we’ve been lucky enough to grab some seats before the Norwegians take them all.

I have to confess though, I’m not really a football fan. I’m not averse to it. I know some players, I know what an offside rule is (I should say I *believe* I know…, but I can survive an entire season without it. I do not need the most expensive cable channel on my subscription.

But Hubs is a different matter. We got Sky just because… He has x-number of Utd shirts. He shouts & jeers at home or in the pub during matches — and these even when he’s alone! Yes, he goes to pubs & communes with like-minded individuals and bonds with other Red Devil supporters.

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I had a fun two weeks when a college friend came back for the nth time. This time around she brought her younger sister with her and I took a couple of days off, too. They arrived when my workload was just starting to calm down & it was perfect timing. Even the British weather cooperated for most part of their stay.

We went clubbing on a Friday night & booked a five-star hotel in the Central London (courtesy of the younger ‘un). If my guests pull, we arranged it so I will stay with the other London-based pal. I had no plans, I just wanted to party & dance, taste proper cocktails… all of which I’ve not done in a while. Okay all of which I’ve not done in London since moving here, that’s about 7 long years.

My only target was to allow the girls as much fun as they can handle & make sure they’re safe. C, the Londoner, & I were basically pimping the younger sister. I was checking out if the guys she’s dancing with were “acceptable”, politely shoo them away if not. C was scouting until sister was okay & she got herself a guy, too. That left me and my friend, A, dancing together & really just have fun.

There was no shortage of male attention, but we kept turning them down. It’s a bit different from my experience before. Or maybe it’s the club we went to. But some men were quick to fence you in (read: bakuran ka ba) with a hand on your back. Para kong naka-electric chair dahil panay ang iwas at iling ko.

Nearing end of that night (ie. 1-2am) a group of men stood next to me & my friend. They’re not white, I thought they’re latino. Then I overheard this blonde talk to one of them. Type daw nang kaibigan nya itong si pogi, sabi naman ni pogi papahalik daw sya. The entire “conversation” was happening right behind me, as the guy was literally next to me. Cheeky huh.

But then one of them started dancing in front of me – as if we’re partners. For the nth time that night I shook my head. Bakit daw. I dunno what came over me but instead of just saying ‘sorry’, what came out was “not you“. Ahh, he said, and made way for the hot guy who was apparently standing right behind him. Ano ‘to queue? (more…

It never used to bother me, but now it does. Why is it that some men think it’s okay to “wink” at you as a sign of greeting?

Do they think it’s “cool”? They seem to think it’s acceptable & appropriate. I can almost forgive people I’ve known for a while, but those I’ve just been introduced to?!

I get winks in pubs, clubs or bars. That’s fine, the place is a virtual meat market.

If boys happen to read this please remember the following points:

You do not wink at your interviewer.

You do not wink at your colleagues when you pass each other in the hall.

You do not wink when you’re introduced to someone.

You only wink when you think you’re so fucking hot that I’d be weak at the knees I’ll hire you.

You only wink if you’re the hot guy of my fantasy.

You only wink if your eye has an involuntary reflex.

If you do not have a condition, then stop.

If you cannot read minds & don’t know what the heck women think of you (in that way), then stop with the winking!

This morning in the Tube I was verbally abused by a “young man” for telling him to mind his elbow as it was jabbing me on my sides as we’re sat next to each other. It was before 7am, the train was not jampacked but it was full enough to have people standing around the aisle.

This moron started callig me a slag, told me to “shut your face“, that I didn’t know “nuffink” and many other words that for the thickness of his uneducated accent, I couldn’t comprehend. I told him to take a cab if he was so bothered by sharing with strangers. I added that he should watch his language and manners when in public.

The buffoon answered that I shouldn’t tell him what to do as I didn’t know him. I said I can see enough to not want to know him. I ignored him from then and he removed his filthy arm away from me.

Nearing my destination, he probably remembered he was pissed so he started jabbing me again…

This time I raised my voice and when he started launching another verbal abuse at me I told him I will call the cops to fetch him at the next stop. Luckily there was an off-duty policeman, who told him to “behave or else”. Guess what the genius did? He proceeded to abuse the guy for siding “with a chink“. When the guy told him one more word and he’s done, the idiot shut up.

All the while this was happening none of the men in the carriage dared look at us. Many of the women, esp. Asians, were giving me sympathetic looks.

When this youth started whispering threats about doing something when I get off at my stop, I said to him in a loud voice to “Stop muttering idiot we can all hear your threats! If you so much as come down my stop, I will make sure you go to jail. You and your kind do NOT SCARE me!”

Siempre pa takot ako, I decided to move away from him. There’s nothing to be had there. I know I should have done so in the first place and I could have avoided that drama. But you know what? Why should I move?

I am paying for the education and in most cases, the livelihood of these demonic teenagers! Why should I fear them?

The answer? The Government does not provide me with protection.

The off duty policeman, yes thank you for the 2-minute assistance, but the effing follow-up was to get off in the next stop after giving him a talking to. Was that responsible?

Did he think the mal-educado will behave now that the nanny is gone?

The biggest fear in this country is getting knifed by a youth (a gang of youths, in most cases). The elderly and those paying taxes are shortchanged.

My biggest worry? These airheads are breeding! These are the people who are supposed to hold this country’s economy in the future. And as a working citizen, I have the right to a life not ruled by white yobs and black gangsters.

When I stood up to this guy, I was thinking of other Pinoys and minorities. Who knows how many people he’s already abused and who bowed to him? I hope that next time, he will think twice and decide against it. I hope he changes and becomes enlightened.

How that will happen I don’t know. But I certainly don’t want to grow old in this place. I pity those who won’t have a choice. No matter how lovely the United Kingdom is, if it’s ruled by dogs, then… need I say more?

It is Day 2 in our household without central heating. And my body’s aching all over.

The engineer arrived before 11am and tinkered around for 10mins. Made some messy puddles of water. Then looked at me and said some-what-not is broken in the boiler. He doesn’t have the parts with him. Sensing what my follow-up question will be, he said that we wouldn’t have known about the problem until he fixed the first problem he saw yesterday.

Long story short, we will have to wait for another day to sort this out. In the meantime, I am here still in front of our only source of heat – the electric fireplace.

The funny thing is now I know the purpose of that silly night cap. pogiBoy and I slept with our wooly hats on.

I also discovered that you cannot use the mousepad if you’re wearing gloves.

Most importantly, in London where almost everything is antiquated, every household should have a portable heater. I already called hubby to buy two on the way home.

Telling my teammates I won’t be in the office tomorrow for the second time is an unpleasant task.

I’ve experienced Australia’s winter. I’ve also experience Fargo‘s winter, a town made (in)famous by the film of the same name. But nothing’s greyer and sadder than London’s cold months. Primarily because most of the infrastructure (read: houses and buildings) here are not equipped with modern mod-cons. There are some houses with no central heating. Most of the houses and offices have no air-conditioning. And those who do have them, chances are the A/C can’t be tweaked to the right temp so people tend to “fight” over it.

My current workplace is undergoing refurbishment and we lost heating for almost a week. One of the contractors, who were showing early signs of flu weeks before, called yesterday to say he’s got pneumonia. My back is aching and my hands are stiff. Most of the people are wearing their coats and hats in the office! But it’s okay, no one seemed to really mind. Everyone still turn up for work afterall.

Then Monday 4am, I woke up ala-Sixth Sense. You know? With smoke billowing from my breath? pogiBoy was huddled between hubby and I under the duvet, and surprise! he’s not sweating. I touch hubby’s head and his hair was cold. Our boiler broke down!

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I’ve got several posts in Drafts mode since August. I always keep telling myself I’ll get around to it, but what got around is the peak period at work… So as usual I haven’t done my tags, I haven’t properly acknowledged the awards & recognitions passed on to KWK (thank you), I haven’t done what I wanted for this new domain. The list is endless.

That’s grovelling done.

Now you’re all familiar with garage sales, esp in the US. You get people to come to your house and sell them junk stuff. In England, they have car boot sales. People fill the boots (i.e. trunk) of their cars (some bring vans & lorries aka trucks) and take their goods to a big open space where they can sale their wares. Most car boot sales are on Sundays (dunno why) and some are really not worth a visit. Some are medium size and you can look-buy in 1 hour. Some are held in fields and can take you half-a-day to skim.

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