Cracking fun

It's been a week of trains.  Trains, trains, trains.  Interspersed with the Tube.

Things I have seen on my travels of late include:

Two very excited West Ham fans on the Tube.  As the journey progressed they donned more and more kit - hats, scarves, shirts.  By the time I got off they were eagerly examining one anothers tickets for the match, and talking loudly about what a great night they were about to have.  They both looked very young, and were clearly having the time of their lives.  One of them gave up his seat to a lady, which I thought was polite.  Although, now I think about it, she was very attractive, and neither of them gave up their seat to a much less attractive lady later in the trip.  So, maybe an ulterior motive there.

As an aside, I often see people offering up seats on the Tube.  It's less common to see someone ofering up a seat on the train out of Waterloo, but that would mean standing up for the bet part of an hour at least, so I can understand the reluctance. 

I saw this on Tuesday night.  A man got on the train at Salisbury and proceeded to eat his way through a whole pack of chocolate mini rolls.  I have seldom seen anyone get less enjoyment out of food; he looked as though it was an exercise in energy restoration and nothing else. 

If you look closely you will see the reflection of the naughty photographer in the window behind him. 

Heh.

I also took some pictures of Mr WithaY's crack.  So to speak.

It was HUGE.  It's all been fixed now, but it was exciting while it lasted. 

This one looks like an arty album cover. 

This one makes it look like we live in Bavaria.  We don't.

Other news:  I have been partaking of some Culture.  We watched The Hurt Locker the other weekend.  It was ok, felt more like a documentary than anything else, but without any kind of editorial focus.  I'm not sure why it won so many Oscars.  I didn't engage with any of the characters and thought it was far too long.  Maybe that was the point, I dunno.   

Also watched District 9 last weekend which I thoroughly enjoyed.  Much bleaker and sadder than I expected, and a lot more interesting to me.  I daresay that tells a story about my psyche, but frankly I don't give a rat's arse, amateur psychologists.  Ha!

A colleague lent me a book called Stasiland by Anna Funder which I read on the train, and thought it was excellent.  It's all about life behind the Berlin Wall.  The author is a lovely writer and a damn fine journalist. I recommend it. 

I'd love to go back to Berlin.  We lived there when I was little and went back for a visit a few years later when we went and looked at the Wall.  It made a big impression.

I am waiting for some v important paperwork to show up this week, and when it does I need to book Mr WithaY and I an appointment at the American Embassy.  Thanks to the SSFH* of last summer, we are no longer eligible for the Visa Waiver Programme, and need to get a tourist visa from the Embassy.  In person. 

So, $131 each for the interview (which is about £80), plus the cost of the train, plus £70 each (the cost of the Official Stuff from the police) on top of that...almost £300.  And if we want to go to Canada, or Australia or South Africa, or America again, we go through it all each time.

Thanks a lot, Police State UK (TM).

I'm still very angry about it all.  When I have stopped being so angry I might even blog about it, but not yet.  Too painful. 

Tra la laaaaaa. 

Still on the weight loss plan, but annoyingly have put a pound and a half back on, which is not the right way round.  I will stick with it though, I am determined to lose at least another stone before we go on holiday**. 

*Shit Storm From Hades

**Assuming we get a fucking visa, of course.  Gah.