For two people who supposedly speak the same language, there was a lot of confusion. For example, Brits love the letter "U." For example:
Other funny things that Brits say:
- "Spot of tea" - Yes, they really say this.
- "Guv'nor" - You, me, whoever else they are addressing
- "Skahn" - Same thing as a scone, but they say it odd
- "Tea" - means "dinner"
We surfed. We didn't suck too horribly. We went to the Long Beach Aquarium and saw sea lions, and then we impersonated their bark for the rest of the week.
We went on a road-trip, and we gave each other double high-fives when appropriate. Note - it was always appropriate. During said road-trip, we visited my brother and Britney at their abode in Santa Cruz, and we ate a lot of meat and drank beer on a cliff over-looking the ocean at night. I also whooped that ass at darts.
The following day we headed north to San Francisco, and watched all the crazies at Dolores Park. I don't know if it was a scheduled rave, or if it was just another Saturday, but the park was packed with chemically-enhanced teenagers. People-watching was prime.
We were joined by good friends, Hanley, Clara, Shawna, Jai, Jas, Paris, Mae, and Eli. Now I miss my old stomping grounds and friends in San Francisco. I know I will eventually make good friends in LA, but I met some really good people while living in the Bay. I am lucky.
Despite the day-drinking, we all managed to last pretty late into the night, and played pool at a North Beach pub until closing time. Shawna ordered tequila shots that I have yet to forgive her for, but she also let us crash in her living room, and made one hell of an omelete the next day, so she is well on her way back into my good graces.
The next morning, groggy and hungover, Alison and I made our way back down the lovely 5-freeway, passing close to a billion walking steaks (cows), and playing "I'm thinking of..." for hours at a time.
This was a good week.