Ah, Norwich. My adventures. So.
My first “official” day in England consisted of my accompanying George (my first cousin once removed in law), Inger (my first cousin once removed), Eva (my great aunt), Saskia (my second cousin), Alexander (also my second cousin), and Felix (my brand new two-week-old second cousin) out to a farm house in the country to celebrate a triple birthday with all of George’s parents, sisters, nieces, nephews, and in-laws. Despite the absolutely horrific tangle of familial terms, it was great fun and probably the most British that anything can ever possibly be. I have to admit that I felt a little silly with my sad American accent. Why is it that everything sounds just slightly less intelligent when you’re American? I mean I could be explaining the science of quantum physics for forty five minutes, then some English bloke could wander in and mention that he’s put the kettle on, and that guy would sound smarter. Unfair, I tell you. In one small attempt at self defense I will point out that no one on the planet can pull off the word “dude” except for America. Justice is served. Anyway, moving on.
From there we came back to Norwich and I picked Sierra up from the bus station. The next day was Easter Sunday which we treated as Do Nothing But Recover From Jetlag Day. At least Sierra recovered from jetlag. I watched her recover and painted little pictures.
Today we ventured outside and for the first time saw the floods of people that apparently have been hiding away in their attics for the past four days. Every single person we saw was wearing green and yellow for some Norwich team spirit thing for some game or something that was happening somewhere sometime (we are obviously well informed, eh?). No but seriously, it was almost eerie how many people in the town were wearing the exact same shirt. We found an internet café (connection with the outside world!), a really fantastic cathedral (remember, this is truly something coming from cathedraled out me), saw a bunch of the cutest streets ever, and finally came home and made ourselves… QUESADILLAS! Then we went out to see Blades of Glory which was oh my god it was funny. For all you people shaking your heads sadly and pointing out that it was rather on the dumb side, I maintain that you did not see it in the Norwich movie theater surrounded by British people, and if you had, you would understand me completely, so why don’t you just run along and stay out of this, alright?
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