Poppets, I am busy studying for my "Life in the UK" exam. The details don't seem to have much to do with my life in the UK, but perhaps that proves I'm just not that integrated. (Shhhh!)
Anyway, that's the price I pay for marrying an exotic foreign person and living in his exotic foreign country as an exotic foreigner.
Meanwhile, here is a simply ghastly story about exotic foreigners to which I cannot resist linking, even though it probably is adding fuel to the strangely xenophobic why-are-there-so-many-Poles-in-the-UK meme. (Incidentally, the biggest migrant groups to the UK in the 1980s were Americans, Australians, South Africans and New Zealanders; see textbook.) Bonnie Prince Charlie was half-Polish, you know, and the Poles helped to win the Battle of Britain. Also, Poles in Poland are ordering my book in large quantities, so I am reflexively pro-Pole.
I do not know what to say about this story other than that this Marcin person seems like a very bad guy, much much worse than the general run of guys who live with their girlfriends for six years with no ring in sight. Although it is true that 25% of children in the UK live in a single-parent household (see textbook), it is not generally because their fathers have allegedly buried their mothers alive in the woods.
I hope you all appreciate that I linked to the Telegraph and not to the Daily Mail. The Daily Mail is considered a tabloid like the Sun, and the Telegraph is supposed to be a respectable paper.
Perhaps the part that makes my hair stand on end is that the boyfriend's excuse was that he was "bored" with his girlfriend. It makes my hair stand on end because it was probably true. Talk about your disposable (sexual) culture! Brr-rr-rr-rr!
3 comments:
The distinction between the Telegraph and the Mail always makes me laugh. British snobs on the left invariably curl their lips at any mention of the Mail... soooo plebeian dahlink. They regard the Telegraph as a respectable paper, but when i lived there, I regularly bought both on the same day and it didn't take me long to realise that they are essentially the same paper. Same stories, same editorial positions, sometimes the same editorials on the same subjects on the same days. The Telegraph is the Mail, I observed, only with longer words.
Well, thank you for interrupting the pity party I was wallowing in. Suddenly my heartache of being dumped after 8 years, watching long ago acquaintances having babies with their once boyfriends now husbands, and the whole Holiday loneliness to boot; it all basically flew out of the window and my prayers have shifted towards this woman and her son. This goes far past the disposable culture and is just pure evil.
Lisa C
magnificatlady@gmail.com
Sorry about the break-up, Lisa! Eight years...ooo. That must smart. Eight years is a loooooong time to waste on a man. Whew!
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