Santa Is Coming 

Did Santa ever give you a present you didn’t ask for? Something that really just didn’t seem right? Want to know why? It’s because after he leaves the U.K., he’s flaming drunk.

That’s right. Here’s a page from our new book, Santa Is Coming to London.

We also have Santa Is Coming to Maryland. In this version, the good little American children leave Santa milk and cookies.

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ATP Finals and Other Stories

As I mentioned in my last post, my best friend from growing up in Oregon, Jess, and her husband Tom and their nearly-2-year-old came to visit us in London just before Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, their little guy didn’t adjust too well to the 8-hour time change from their home in Seattle, so we didn’t do all that much during the day, as he was up for half the night for the first week. (He’d wake up in the middle of the night—dinnertime in Seattle—asking for quinoa.)

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Learning the Lingo

When I lived in Bath the year I studied abroad, I didn’t actually get to know that many Brits. My program(me) was all American students from colleges on the East Coast, and we all pretty much stuck together for everything. So other than our British professors and administrators, I didn’t befriend anyone my own age from here. I briefly, sort-of dated some local bloke named Ian, if you could call it dating. Our interactions basically consisted of drinking Bacardi Breezes at dance clubs and text messaging. He did threaten to buy me dolphin jewel(le)ry, so you could say it was pretty serious.

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