BADDA-BING, BADDA-BOOM

I'm back!

Make sure to check down the page as I've filled in some of the missing days/entries from this past week - I've finally had a bit of time to flesh out some of the ideas that I've had squirreled in my head for a few days.

Funny moment of the weekend: I was ID'd yesterday while buying alcoholic coolers on my way to a houseparty. THE DRINKING AGE IN ENGLAND IS EIGHTEEN. It would be indelicate to mention just how many years I am beyond that age, but let's just say I'm a heckuva lot closer to thirty than I am to eighteen.

I told the cashier (I was in a grocery store, no less!) that Canadian ID would have to do, and mentioned that I had been married for over two years. She looked sceptical and I could almost hear her thinking, "sacrificial child bride?", but when my ID checked out she grinned sheepishly and then spent the rest of time it took to run my non-age-restricted good through the till telling me how lucky I am to look so young. I have been hearing this for longer than I care to remember, and it's a sad truth that I am finally getting to an age where it actually is a compliment. Unless, of course, I've forgotten my ID and they won't sell me the darn drinks.

I must be on a bit of a roll, because I was also asked for ID over Christmas, in a pub in Gibsons. Before that incident I hadn't been ID'd in over a year, and had gotten lazy enough about bringing my ID with me to pubs that most of the time I didn't bother. Apparently I'm not out of the woods on that count just yet.