Couldn't have written it better

"Is that Danny Swanston?" I asked my fellow Christmas Eve pubgoers and Currie High School Alumni, of the boy standing chatting to his friends round the corner of the bar. High school was seven years ago and few of us had kept up with many from our old school, outside of our circles of friends. Looking at this boy, we all agreed it looked like Danny Swanston, but we couldn't agree on whether it actually was him. I was sure it was, because it seemed impossible that there could be two people who looked that much alike. But at the same time I couldn't believe that he could look as good as he did. Most of the people I went to high school with, excepting my circle of friends, have gotten fat, ugly and dishevelled as a result of alcohol, cigarettes and dead-end jobs. The girls have all turned orange from excessive fake tan. It seemed unlikely that Danny Swanston could have escaped the ravages of post-school malaise.

After repeated observation, during which he must have started to worry about the attention we were giving him, Heather became convinced it wasn't him. From the side, sure, it looked like him, but when he was looking this way straight on, it wasn't his face. The other three disagreed, stating emphatically, "It is him. No no no, seriously, it's him. It's Danny Swanston." I started to come round to Heather's way of thinking as he looked our way a few more times. If it had been him, it would have been after cosmetic surgery. But I really couldn't be sure. There didn't seem to be a good way to resolve the situation. Someone could have gone up to him and asked, but the likeliest suspect - Heather - refused on the grounds that she no longer believed it was him. So I proposed a solution. "Is he on Facebook?" I asked. If he was on Facebook and had a picture, we could see what he looked like these days. Jenni got out her phone to check.

And at that very moment, when she was making her way to Facebook on her phone, someone walked in the door to the pub. We all turned round and looked. Then we were standing in fits of laughter. "Oh yeah...that's what Danny Swanston looks like," we thought to ourselves as the man himself walked to the bar with a couple of friends.

Perfectly timed moment of Christmas magic.

And to all a good night.

Gambling on The X Factor 2

So a month or two ago I blogged about gambling on The X Factor. Folly, it was! The public voters seemed to have attention deficit disorder and voted for different people each week, making predicting who would go a hit-and-miss affair. I gave it up.

But

I was pretty sure about who was going to win. It had to be Matt, with his high notes and mostly-absent hat. So I put some money on him. He was favourite to win, so the odds weren't fantastic, but it was early enough in the competition for it to be possible that it would go another way, so they were better than they were in the last week.

And he won. I am £75 richer. I think we all learned something.


If not, please accept my apologies and a picture from the awesomesauce that is Misfits.

Peace out

Where I'm at

It occurs to me that I haven't really reported on what I'm doing these days, since I finished my CELTA course.

Well, I'm teaching the children. But not the British children. Not actually the children, either.

I've been able to pick up a few students by advertising myself. I've been heading into town over the last few weeks teaching either at students' homes or at Starbucks on Princes Street with Edinburgh Castle looming in the background. Although I kind of dread it every time I arrange to see a student, as I'm still dealing with an anti-social and awkward past self, I actually enjoy teaching. I like meeting new people, I like helping them, I like passing on knowledge.

Since Christmas is coming up I'm happy to let things wind down a bit, then in the New Year I'll get back onto the advertising. A lot of the foreign population is going home for Christmas anyway, at least the Europeans are.

Anyone got any tips on business cards? On Thursday at Starbucks a Chinese girl had an English dictionary and was looking over at me when I was teaching and I wished I'd had business cards to whore myself off with.

Funny Ha-ha

I was lying when I said I had nothing to report earlier. I got an email from Blog Explosion today. Blog Explosion is (is supposed to be) a community that helps get your blog seen and out there. When I first started my blog back in the spring, I read about the site and signed up. They said my account would be activated after my blog was moderated, which would usually take a couple of days. Ahem.

Over a week later, with no change on the status of my account, I sent an email to the admins. No response. Wondering what was going on I went to the forums to find a large number of people complaining about the site's recent change for the worse, with people (much like myself) waiting forever for their sites to be approved. It was there that I read a post from someone advertising an alternative. I checked it out and found that it was a burgeoning blog promotion community of refreshingly real and friendly people. I signed up and I'm sure a lot of the traffic I get to my blog I owe to them. So thank you Expose Your Blog!.

Anyway, this morning I got an email from Blog Explosion, who I'd almost entirely forgotten about. It said, merely,

Sorry.

Your site looks great, but must be in a blog format.


Whut?


Just what about my site isn't blog format?


In all likelihood, the cowboys who apparently run Blog Explosion didn't even look at my blog. Their loss!

Nothing to Report

So I haven't left the house because it's not stopped snowing and I've had a cold since the weekend which makes my head all woolly.

In other news, today is the first of December, which means opening the first door of the advent calendar. Today was a cracker-shaped chocolate in front of a picture of Santa.

Here's a picture of a neighbour's car engulfed by snow:

Snowbound

 Snow update. In blind and selfish opposition to the weather forecast, the snow has continued for three days. Each day me or my parents have cleared it from the front path and every day it's come back. Here is the view out my bedroom window:

 The garden steps are completely buried and the bird table is becoming an igloo.

Out the front...

The cars are almost buried and all the neartly cleared paths have a thick, fresh layer of snow. I don't remember ever seeing this much snow falling at once. And it's still November!

The Consulate General's Reception

I was invited to a reception at the home of the Scottish Consulate General of Japan, as a sort of 'welcome back' (ignoring the fact that I've been back now for four months now...golly, is that all?) to the country. It took two buses followed by a walk up some hilly streets to get to his house. I rang the call button on the wall outside and magically the wooden gates opened in, light streaming down from the residence. It was pretty much as I expected - large, lavish - giant pictures on the walls. On the mantelpiece above the marble fireplace were two framed photographs - one of current emperor, Akihito, and the other of his wife, Empress Michiko. I found this deference to royalty mildy amusing, though it occurs to me that when I was at the British Embassy in Tokyo three years ago, there was more than one portrait of the Queen in the building.

Apparently, there were only three JETs returning this year, or at least only three who could attend (remembering that not everyone is willing to travel several hours for a couple of hours of wine and chit-chat), so the numbers were padded out by other former JETs and various people connected to Japanese organisations. The three of us who came back this year had to give short speeches then all the former JETs introduced themselves then everyone else introduced themselves and we all started eating and drinking. Apparently the Consulate General has the best sushi chef in Scotland, but since I don't eat sushi I couldn't tell you.

There was a former Tokushima JET there. She lived in Hanoura when Hanoura was still a place of its own - its been absorbed into Anan since. There were one or two people that we both knew of, despite being there years apart. It was weird talking about them, like we were talking about dead celebrities.

At one point the Consulate General made us stand round in a circle and watch him sing Moon River a cappella. I didn't know where to look.

When we left, around eight thirty, it had started to snow. Not proper snow, really - just little flakes that weren't lying for the most part. While many parts of the country had been hit by heavy snow over the past couple of days, Edinburgh had missed out. Of course, it's still been absolutely freezing out, which made waiting for a bus that little bit less fun. By the time I got home where was a thin layer of snow on some parts of the street, but it still didn't seem like it would come to much.

I was wrong!
Garden:

 Street:

Snaw! (Oor Wullie for 'snow')