Not much cheery about the headlines this week.

Let’s not mince words: last week sucked. No matter what your (and my) opinions are on terrorism, refugees, religion, and Starbucks coffee cups, I really just want to put up a stupid post about silly things that I’ve encountered over the past couple of weeks.

Pardon the recipe, but the flavor of this entry will be all over the place.

When I moved to Hawaii back in November 2003, the islands were busy shipping in evergreens and putting up signs that read, “Mele Kalikimaka” down in Waikiki. It was 80 degrees and sunny.  The New Englander in me found the experience both exciting and bewildering. Christmas in my brain meant piling on the layers and enjoying my mom’s garland festooned windows that provided a perfect frame to the snow falling just on the other side of the pane. Now that I’ve been plopped into London at the same time of year, I’ve got a similar sentiment as I come upon things somewhat familiar yet different.

I recognize this as a mailbox. But what the hell is franking?

And while we’re on the subject of words, this one just seems fake. Like someone is trying to win a Scrabble game.

Couldn’t they call it something a bit less fearsome…like a “holiday jab” perhaps?

Christmas preparations over here don’t have to deal with the speed bump known as Thanksgiving, so commercial streets across the city have been lighting up with abandon for weeks now. Throw in a free cup of mulled wine as you walk down each one and it is actually kinda nice to take in.

The party on Carnaby Street had really nice looking drag queens. Ho ho ho.

And then there’s the perpetual bottleneck that is Oxford Street. It’s currently all lit up like Edaville Railroad at home…and you don’t need to go down and shop so much as stand on the streets and simply watch the lights change:

The town is all wrapped up.

The Art of Christmas. I’m still thinking on what this one means.

Walk inside of Selfridges, and you can get your Christmas jabs on every floor, in every department…

This place is like Wonka’s chocolate factory for adults. The holiday $pirit is alive and well.

And then there’s the weather. It’s not Hawaii warm here, but instead, we’ve got lots and lots of darkness. And also, apparently, exciting precipitation events:

I’m still new, but I didn’t expect this to be breaking news exactly.

So I haven’t got this place figured out just yet. Indeed, I went out for a run this morning, and ten minutes in I was struck with shock and delight by something truly Christmassy.

Seriously, big flakes of snow that soaked my insufficient PT gear but also made me as giddy as a little kid.

And now fast-forward to later in the morning. The snow has stopped and I’m writing this in a café where the soundtrack is all late 80s/early 90s tunes. We’ve got “Winds of Change” playing, and that was preceded by “Another Day in Paradise” and “Time After Time“. Unexpected yet familiar.  London is shaken after the attacks in Paris, and bomb scares here make me wonder how out of practice the city has grown since the heydays of the IRA. Russia’s profile is raised as they’ve once again got their toes in the water outside of their borders. Someone just walked by in a knee-length fur cut and cotton candy pink hair like she’s Cyndi Lauper. What year is this? I think about the fact that I am back in Europe, and am continually fascinated by how much things change, stay the same….and are still somewhat different.

Cultural solutions to global problems…

So I have no idea what it all means.  I just know that I’m not the only one who has had a lot to take in this week– not by a long shot. The rest of my time here will not be boring.