So the ‘Governator’ knocked up one of the help. Sorry, a bit crass I realize, but truly there is no other way to say it. No other polite way, as I always feel that using euphemisms at times like these merely condone the act or make it seem more commonplace (sadly, I think it is). What did Mr. Schwarzenegger call it? Ah yes, an ‘event.’ I would certainly say that having an affair and impregnating a member of your staff that worked for your family for over twenty years is certainly an event. I’m sure Maria has a few choice words to describe it as well. “I got your event, you overgrown Austrian ape!”

Trust me, to spend the entire blog on Arnold himself and his indiscretions (cause if there is one, there are bound to be plenty more) would bore me as the cliché is simply too tired these days; but the notion of gossip and our society’s preoccupation with it, now that is something altogether more interesting. If one were to peruse the World Wide Web for less than five minutes, it would become glaringly apparent that gossip is the fuel that makes the engine run, actually that’s putting it mildly. Magazines and newspapers alike make millions off the gossip trade, not to mention, go down to any office on any block, and I’m sure there is a cloud of gossip permeating the hallways. In my old office it was almost sport to ponder who was sleeping with whom, who had gotten too drunk at the weekend, or who made the biggest ass of themselves at the Christmas party. Don’t get me wrong, gossip is catty and downright hurtful at times, and yet we as a society are utterly fascinated by it. Says a lot about our race doesn’t it.

Celebrity gossip is something altogether different. It almost feels justifiable as we watch these otherworldly humans swim inside a large fishbowl, i.e. we don't know them personally, so talking about them relentlessly seems perfectly acceptable, hell, fun even. You always hear the phrase, ‘well, they chose to be public figures’ bandied about, and therefore, the rest of us should be able to dive into large pools of rumor and innuendo and swim around till we’re good and satisfied. “Did you hear so and so was sleeping with so and so on their latest movie”…“I read she was about to have a nervous breakdown and drinks champagne at nine in the morning,”…“someone told me she bathes in Botox, actually bathes in it.” Open any newspaper tomorrow and you’ll find a minimum of ten stories that spin a rumor about one actress/actor or another, and of course the more outlandish the better. It's like the ultimate soap opera for our viewing pleasure.

So what is it that compels us to keep the gossip mill churning? Does it make us feel like our lives aren’t so screwed up? Does it make us feel normal, especially when our little problems pale in comparison? I mean Lindsay Lohan alone could make the entire city of London feel pretty well adjusted. Or perhaps it simply makes us feel that even though people out there have more money, fame and adulation than we have, we’re all the same and can fall victim to the same pitfalls in life. Like drug addiction, losing a job, and you know, your politician/actor husband having an affair with the nanny for over twenty years right under your nose and fathering a love child. 

That right there is why I’m never getting a nanny for the King. Life is complicated enough.

There is nothing the English like talking about more than the weather. I’m not sure if it is simply because it is the ultimate mundane and civilized pleasantry – which is ironic as they find our (American) mantra of ‘have a nice day’ so utterly cloying - or they simply find their weather fascinating. But whatever the case, when you are out and about, at some point during your day the weather will be discussed, be it by others, the shopkeeper, or yourself (having caved in to this inevitable ritual).

When I first moved here, I was amazed how often it could come up in a conversation. What the weather was currently like (rainy and sh*t), what it was due to become later that day (rainy and sh*t), or the whopper, what the weather was forecasted to become later that week (rainy and…). Anyone that lives in England knows two things, no one here can predict the weather, and the ‘professionals’ will always get it wrong. The other myth, in my opinion of course, is how much it rains. Fine, if you live in Scotland or Ireland, you’re pretty much screwed as you will be wet year round, but as far as I’m concerned, over the last ten years, the weather has steadily improved when it comes to rainfall in London. That said, our winters have turned into the Siberian tundra, so it hasn’t improved on all fronts.

About a year in I started to notice that I was becoming one of them…those weather discussers. I would hear myself in a store and have to look in the mirror to see if it was actually myself talking…“Isn’t this amazing weather today?” “They say it’s going to last till next week.” “I heard rain is coming.”  [For some reason, when I’m talking about the weather I start to feel oddly like I’m living in an episode of Little House on the Prairie].

It didn’t take long before I realized that the English were on to something – crafty lot of people they are. They had found not only the perfect conversation piece and segue for that matter, but the weather can become the entire meat of your conversation and still make you look a) friendly, b) interested and c) you won’t have to talk about anything else of consequence with the fray. God bless America! Oops, I’m sorry, I meant to say, God Bless the Queen! This of course led me to conclude that the English simply want to make small talk, but not delve too deeply, cause that would be uncivilized of course and far too revealing.

Hmmm, maybe it’s their culture’s way of saying that they are just not into you if they are talking about the weather? I of course also started to wonder if talking about the weather was also some sort of secret language amongst the English and that some phrases were code words for something else. Like… ‘They say we’re due for thundery showers,’ really means, here comes my husband and he’s being a real pill. Or, these sunny skies are amazing, but we really need some rain before the flowers start dying – means, “we’re planning a revolution to take back our neighborhood from all these damn yanks that keep appearing on our shores.”

Yes I have a wild imagination that runs away from me at times.