God save the Queen!

We are so lucky to have such an awesome queen. I bet most of you reading this blog don't even have a queen. I don't know how you have any pride. It was her birthday recently, and she was so kind to invite us all to her birthday bash at Buckingham Palace. Well. We weren't actually allowed inside the palace. And we weren't really permitted to stand in front of the palace either. Oh, and there were guards watching us with guns and SWORDS to make sure we behaved! We were just standing there with our little cameras and water bottles. I didn't even see one torch or pitchfork!

Anyway. All the townspeople gathered around and even got there early to stake out a good spot. Then the pomp and circumstances began. There was a parade, horses, a band, yadda yadda yadda... it was slow and boring. Lots of frills—brass piccolos, feathers and buckles. I couldn't help but think how this would never happen in America. And only the oldies would be entertained by it. We need our food and entertainment to be fast, or it's not worth our effort and we get distracted. But looking around, the peasants never seemed to tire of it or get impatient. They cheered and loved every second.

The "show" drug out as long as possible. After the forever parade, the queen rolled by in a carriage to her palace, waving all the while. Eventually she came out onto the balcony and waved some more. She is so good to us.
The lulls between events would lead you to believe that the party was over, and as the crowd started drifting away, they would carry on with another round of fun. Next, they fired 80 canons for her 80 years of life. What joy. Can you imagine how fun it is to listen to a canon fire 80 times in a row? But the pleasure didn't end there. Then they let some horses run through a field and had group after group of planes fly overhead in fancy formations. I must admit, the fly-over was actually really impressive.

After considering how many planes there were, and all the fuel required, and all the silver buttons on all the red velvet uniforms, I started to see how expensive this whole production must have been. How gracious of the queen to spend our tax pounds on all of it for us, and then invite us to watch.

I never felt like such a commoner. Not that I have a job or pay taxes... but IF I did, I can imagine that's how I would feel. I hope I don't get beheaded for this post.

By the way, here's the Queens address if you need it:

Her Majesty The Queen
Buckingham Palace
London SW1A 1AA

mathematician mastermind

Simon started studying for the GMAT this week. We're on lock down until the test is over. He only has a month to prepare and get applications in. This morning I was cleaning, like a good little housewife should, and I found this on the couch. I had no idea I was making meals for a genius.

I found it reminiscent of John Nash's delusional scribblings. And like John, Simon also keeps rambling on about how the Russians are after him. But it's probably just a phase. He's about to turn 30 and chances are it's affecting his subconscious.

MEDIC!

It's the feeling you get when you watch a baby teetering by the edge of the pool. It's the way you feel as you grip the seats in the back of a New York City taxi in midtown. It's exactly how I feel every time I see Simon on his roller blades.

Apparently, Europeans haven't gotten the message that roller blades are cheesy and they continue to sport them with complete self confidence, along with their tight jeans and unbuttoned shirts. After seeing so many of them in the park down the street Simon was sold that it was a great idea and something that we needed to get involved in immediately. So I got some while I was in New York, hoping to help satisfy his unfulfilled childhood dream. I guess kids in Chicago didn't think it was fun to roller blade against the 50 mph wind in the sleet. Us Arizona kids did the roller blade thing in junior high, but then got it out of our systems as soon as we turned 16 and had to be cool at all costs. And we learned that cars are much better.

If you've ever seen Simon you can probably imagine why this idea makes me nervous. He had never been on roller blades before so he didn't know how to shift his weight or bend his knees. He looked kind of like a walking Frankenstein. He was dubbed "Top Heavy" by his basketball coach. And on his blades, his cranium is like 7 feet away from the ground. So when he falls, he falls hard. I told him that he had to get a helmet and pads before he could go again. And he tried to reason with me that he was a college athlete and for some reason thought that was somehow related to our situation. But no. And to the store we went for some protection. And it was just in time too.

Everything was all fine and dandy as you can see here. Yes he looks like a dork. But a relatively safe dork. And I was pleased.

There was one time where I tried to save Simon from a fall in a volleyball game. But the sheer logistics of it are mind boggling. Kind of like a hamster trying to catch a cat. There is no way that I could support his massive weight falling to the ground, without being crushed in the process. And I definitely couldn't do it on roller blades. Anyway, the inevitable happened and gravity won against Simon. He was going pretty fast down a hill and never learned how to stop or slow down. But he soon learned how to skid. His whole arm was scraped up and his elbow had some deep gashes in it. Some English woman offered us a "plaster" and I had no idea what she was talking about. I was assuming she was crazy and she was assuming I was a stupid American tourist. She was closer to being right.

We slowly rolled home, bloody and woeful. Simon cleaned up while I left to go buy some bandages, or "plasters" as I learned was the correct name for them. When I got back Simon was strewn across the couch like a half naked wounded soldier and this is the scene I encountered on the counter.

Slightly dramatic? Yes, probably. But he got back on that horse and roller bladed the very next day. Simon will not be defeated.

GUCCI GUCCI GOO

Remember back when Simon went to Milan to get a tux? Well, I was in America and couldn't go with him. But being the thoughtful boyfriend that he was, he brought a gift back for me. (Which meant a lot to me). He was really excited to give it to me and I was anxious to receive it. First of all, the box was tiny. Could it be a silk scarf or necklace? A swimmers cap? I don't know what else could fit in a box like that.

But no. It was this teeny tiny ity bity bikini. (The pound note shown is for scale). I was so surprised. And he carefully picked it out with the help of one of his best friends, and accomplished French stylist, Jean-Baptiste Duprieu. Of all the things he could have gotten, he thought this was the perfect gift. Imagine that. There was someone out in the world who wanted to give me something nice and thought this was the best possible solution. A miniature bikini. An UNLINED, WHITE bikini, no less.

Well of course a fashion show ensued. I felt naked. I practically was naked. "This isn't the type of suit you swim in," I was told. "It's more for boat parties and soirées on the yacht." Hmmm... I don't have any of those coming up anytime soon. But when they do, I'll be ready.

Due to the company's strict no swimwear return policy, and Simon's banishment from the London store, exchanging it just wasn't an option.

Anyway, we're getting ready for our first trip to Spain and I can't wait to wear it! Thank you Simon, for helping me pack light. Or should I say, "You're welcome?"

THE WEDDING PICTURES ARE HERE!

Our wedding pictures finally came and we are so happy with them. We can't believe it's already been almost 3 months! Best day of our lives—hands down.

For more photos and to download them, visit:
http://gallery.mac.com/julie.flynn#100128&view=grid&bgcolor=black&sel=0