Hands up if you've heard of Coolsculpting? It's apparently the latest way to get rid of fat without surgery, and is described on their website as a "targeted cooling process that kills the fat cells underneath the skin, literally freezing them to the point of elimination". Well, I have great news. There's no need to spend $2000 (US) on getting one isolated part of your body frozen in the hope you'll make a dent in your muffin top. All you need to do is spend approximately 60 seconds in the balmy waters of the New England Atlantic for the optimal cryogenic experience. It might be the peak of summer here in Hull, MA, but the water is truly icy. I expect to return to Auckland 10lb lighter (at the very least).
It's been an interesting experience flitting from NZ to the UK to the US. In NZ I am Posh (literally, that's my nickname) and they think I have a cut-glass BBC accent. In the UK I have a twang. And in America I am speaking a foreign language. I had completely forgotten the issues I have over here in ordering anything with a crisp 'T' sound, until I tried to ask for water the other day. "What?" "Water..." "What?" [...... several minutes] "Oh, you want WAAAH-DAH". I foolishly followed up on this experience by trying to buy a butternut donut at Dunkin Donuts yesterday. You can guess how that one panned out.
When I describe what it's like living in New Zealand to my friends in the UK, they are horrified by the high-fiveyness, fist-bumpyness, general sheer enthusiasm. In the US, they are freaked out by the lack of dessert and Lite beers. In New Zealand, they think that everything in England is grey. I wanted to write in further depth about the differences between Brits, Kiwi's and Yanks, but I then read the following article by an American correspondent for the NY Times - who had been living in London for several years before returning to the states:
Even after 18 years, I never really knew where I stood with the English. Why did they keep apologizing? (Were they truly sorry?) Why were they so unenthusiastic about enthusiasm? Why was their Parliament full of classically educated grown-ups masquerading as unruly schoolchildren?
Why did rain surprise them? Why were they still obsessed by Nazis? Why were they so rude about Scotland and Wales, when they all belonged to the same, very small country? And - this was the hardest question of all - what lay beneath their default social style, an indecipherable mille-feuille of politeness, awkwardness, embarrassment, irony, self-deprecation, arrogance, defensiveness and deflective humour?
So.... anyone else bewildered by the phrase "same, very small country"? I wasn't going to bring this up, but then I had the same conversation, twice, IN ONE WEEK, regarding the fact that London is not the same as England and Birmingham is, in fact, an entirely separate city in its own right. We are, much to our pride, the Nation's Second City. (This title belongs to us and not, as many Northerners erroneously believe, to our covetous sister, Manchester). Anyway, both conversations went something like this:
AMERICAN: Are you from London?
BRIT: No, from Birmingham.
AMERICAN: But London's the capital of England right? So it's the same thing?
BRIT: Er, well.... no, not really...
AMERICAN: It's like me saying I come from Boston, when I really mean Massachusetts.
BRIT: No, you see, Birmingham is a totally different city. We're actually the next biggest city after London...
AMERICAN: But London is the capital city yes? Same difference!
BRIT: OK. I'm from London.
In other news, until I arrived in the states I had forgotten the principle source of my summer joy. Yes it's nice to catch up with family, and we can't get Entenmann's in NZ, but my favourite thing to do here is read the police log of the Hull Times. For all you out-of-towners, this is the weekly police record for the beautiful town of Hull, Massachusetts, where you apparently can't sneeze without someone calling 911:
SATURDAY. 5:32pm Manomet Ave. caller reports that there is a loud radio on in the backyard and same requests that an officer ask them to turn it down. Music has been turned down... 8:12pm Nantasket Ave. Chair is in the roadway. O/Costa reports that female is not in the area and has moved the chair to the side of the road... 10:32pm Nantasket Rd. & Seventh St. caller states that there is a young male sitting against the telephone pole. Male was waiting for a ride...
We're sincerely hoping we make it into the police log before we leave town. Plan A: have a conversation in the street after 8pm.
OVERHEARD AT THE GYM
THE RUSSIAN: So when are you going to come and train with me?
ME: Er... I'm not sure.... maybe next month?
THE RUSSIAN: OK, I really want you to come and train with me. I think I can make you aesthetically pleasing.
And that's what it's like to work in a gym.
