My friend Adam Boulter invited me to take a little jaunt down to Brighton, where he lives, for the weekend. Anyone who's anyone in England goes to Brighton for the weekend, especially if they are old ladies. Brighton is known for being one of England's sunniest spots, and has a famous pier and boardwalk. It's actually very nice, though the weather was pretty much crap. I just had this feeling that I needed to make some Brighton beach memoirs, though, so I hopped a train and was down there in no time.
Most of the time we were there Adam and I made fun of the Da Vinci Code movie, which is the most ridiculously boring movie in ages. But I know some of my readers probably loved the Da Vinci Code movie, and I don't wish to offend anyone, particularly really stupid people who enjoyed the Da Vinci Code movie. When we weren't doing that, we were walking around Brighton and looking at stuff.
I'm a big fan of looking at stuff, but you will be happy to know that I actually bought stuff on this trip as well. I actually made purchases, which is where you spend money on something besides fast food and Cornish pasties. I found an old, weathered Union Jack in a bric-a-brac store as well as an Irish fishing hat, which I actually wear. You should see me walking around with my Irish fishing hat. I give off a faint smell of Irish Spring and I look like your grandfather. Brighton is full of shops, open air markets, street music, and art houses. Adam, me, and my other old friend Loraine Edwards, in addition to Liz, Alexis, and Kristen from London, had a great time just moseying around, stopping only to eat massive English breakfasts. Seriously, six farm animals and three tomatoes died to make up one of my English breakfasts. Money well spent!
Mid-day, when the weather was at it's blusteriest, we decided like any rational people to go to the seashore. Walking down to the pier was like walking into a wind tunnel. We leaned into the wind at 45 degrees, and the wind bore us up. The waves were monstrous! Big, yellowy green waves smashing all upside the pier. The ocean was heaving. And so was I, after Adam and I rode a crazy twister ride on the boardwalk! 3 pounds and a twister ride is all it takes to make me happy. Kristen and Lexi and I played a game where we would inch up to the ocean wall and, just as a wave was about to crest it, we'd run back to dry land. We were not successful with this game, and got soaked early on. But that's the chance you take when you take on Poseidon. I felt like I was on the Downeaster Alexa.
That evening, Adam and I went to a Eurovision Song party. I don't know how to describe the Eurovision song contest, but give this a shot. It's like this song contest where every country in Europe enters their cheesiest, most incredibly embarrassing pop song. It's a huge deal here. As big as the Super Bowl is in the USA. Everything shuts down so we can watch the Eurovision. People have parties and place bets. The presenters are awkward and their English is atrocious. You hear songs you never want to hear again from countries you've never heard of in the first place. Macedonia calls themselves MACEDONIAN FORMER REPUBLIC OF YUGOSLAVIA. How's that for catchy? Anyway. We went to a party with Adam's workmates, two of whom are Icelandic, one who was Italian, two who were English, and one who was Swedish. So the competition was fierce! As for the American, I ate a lot of mini-sausages and Doritos, and took a leak six times in three hours. A new personal best? Possibly.
In the end I felt like I won the Eurovision song contest, because guess who took home the prize?
FINLAND! My LDS mission!
And their entry? Well, they dressed up like satanic angels, grew wings half-way through their song, and shot fireworks out of their guitars! Seriously, what's not to like?
