So what's been going down? Guess not too much. Brooklyn gets a little cuter every day. She also gets a little heavier. I picked her up and tossed her toward the ceiling - she's one heavy punk. The other day as I prepped her for her bath (eg, chased her naked butt around the upstairs) I noticed that what junk she lacks in the trunk she makes up for in her baby gut. The baby gut is a strange phenomenon. It's as if the baby's midsection has hit middle-age all by itself. Any ways, here are some pics:
This is Brooklyn hanging out with Laila Haraj-Sai. Brooklyn pretty much plays all the time, hangs out with friends, lets other people bathe her, change her clothes, etc. Someone tell that freeloading kid to get a job already...
Here's a pic of me at Tower Bridge, the Thames river below. You can tell from the photo that it was raining. I was in London a total of 33 days. It rained on me 32 of those days. No kidding. It rained on me so much that I was reluctant to take a shower.
Tower of London in the background. It's a really old castle that was once home to the Royal family or the Flintstones or Hugh Grant - I wasn't really clear on what my tour guide was saying because I was still adjusting to his thick accent. I asked at the front desk if they had a tour guide who spoke AMERICAN and trust me, that didn't go over very well. Did you know the ToL's guards were called Beefeaters because in the olden days they had to taste the King's food for poison - and you thought your job sucked?!
Behind me is the State Capitol building where Charlonian's Ball is held. Every May teenagers get dressed up in tuxes and/or gowns, rent convertible mustang's from Hertz and try to get their car to roll UP gravity hill (for the non-Utard's this won't make any sense). No, seriously, it's St. Paul's, a very, very cool old cathedral.
This is the view from St. Paul's. I tried to get a picture of the Gherkin - an odd rocket-shaped bldg not far from UBS - so you could see this freaky thing, it's pretty cool.
I harp on this building b/c my first couple of days in London I was completely lost getting around. People kept giving me directions based on the Gherkin. I was too polite or embarrassed to say: Sire, just show me on the map where I have to go because I have no idea who this guy Gerkin is or where he hangs. Instead whenever someone would gesticulate wildly off in some direction, then another, then another, then another, and say "... you'll see the Gherkin on your right and Bob's your uncle", I would just nod and say, "Oh, yes, next to the Kurklemin, perfect, cheers" and walk away purposefully in the direction where the guy first pointed. It sometimes took me an hour more to get to the Gherkin which was actually so close to the UBS building that they shared a bus stop. But at least I didn't have to be man-shamed by admitting I was lost, which is bad, but as a note to any ladies out there: the only thing worse than a man having to ask for directions is having to ask for an follow-up explanation of someone's directions, no matter how confusing they were in the first place.
Oh, then after a couple of days schlepping around I figured out that the Gherkin was this building (infra) what I had walked past every day and had secretly titled: what Michael Jackson would build if he had become an architect instead of a weirdo: