Barrington is my travelling companion, of course.
She’s absolutely smashing at it. Just frightfully efficient. One doesn’t know what one did before she was here to take care of it all.
Today she is doing up my valise and hat boxes and such, in preparation for our ocean liner voyage tomorrow.
To Denver. Yes. My, the places one can travel to by ocean liner these days. This truly is an era of Progress, wouldn’t you say?
Barrington is so good at these things. So very competent.
Dashedly competent!
Anyway.
The world in which Barrington and I live is kind of a mash-up between the world of say, a Marx Brothers film, an Agatha Christie novel, and socialites aboard the Titanic*.
* Except not the Titanic, of course, because our travels are always highly amusing but without any unpleasantness to speak of.
With some Gilbert & Sullivan thrown in for good measure, because often as not it turns out that Barrington and I are actually twins separated at birth and reunited.
Or possibly we were switched at birth, and actually I am meant to be her travelling companion. Which sometimes I am. Do you see? Never mind. It doesn’t matter.
The times change. Sometimes it’s more 1910-ish, and other times it’s already the early forties. When it’s earlier, we get to be secret suffragettes and wear bloomers in our staterooms! As the century progresses, we sometimes get to be spies. Or disguised anarchist rabble-rousers.
We get to be British, of course.
Mainly so I can say Rawther. And Quite.
I refer to things as being smashing, and amuse myself with my terrible attempt at a posh accent.
I will also throw in other British pronunciations of words which amuse me, no matter how irrelevant to whatever I happen to be speaking about at the time.
Zebra! Goulash! The cha cha!
Barrington and I get on ever so well.
You’d think that might be odd given that I’m her employer.
But of course we are secret cousins or best friends or lovers or who knows, so all that is just an act.
She calls me Brooks. Not in public, of course. Then I am Her Ladyship. But privately. Or sometimes under her breath, and we try not to collapse in giggles.
And sometimes we both call each other Rosie! I can’t tell you why. Or Old Thing. We have fun.
Brooks and Barrington, Barrington and Brooks! Partners in crime.
Sometimes Barrington is Barrington, and sometimes I am Barrington. Either way, it’s very useful.
Today, for example.
Barrington is in charge of packing. Which is perfect because I quite loathe packing, and of course she does a ripping good job.
So today I am Barrington, and this is the best and sneakiest plan in the entire history of sneaky plans, because Barrington does not have any of my monsters.
Barrington has decided what I am going to wear each day.
If I were to try something like that without her, my monsters would have a field day.
“Really? Could you be any more boring? What happened to the fun, crazy, up-for-anything girl who moved to Berlin based on a hunch? Packing?! Lists?! Next thing you know, you’ll be driving a mini-van. To soccer practice! Mom-jeans. Inspirational quotes on sweatshirts. We need to stop this self-care bullshit now before you lose your freedom and forget how to be fabulous. Code Red! Shut all systems down! No planning ever or it will be the end of you!”
But Barrington lives in a world where mini-vans do not exist, so this is not an immediate danger. Also she is delightfully immune to monsters. Mine and in general.
This means she can do all sorts of things to take care of me and make my life easier, without anyone objecting.
It’s another form of embarking.
Instead of leaving presents for slightly future me, Barrington leaves them for me.
And when I am Barrington, I am leaving them for Brooks. Which is part of my job description and also something I enjoy.
I can plant all sorts of delightful surprises for this person I love, without any of the guilt, the objections, or the usual accusations of Shameful Extravagance coming from the Collective.
What is Barrington up to today?
All sorts of things that I would never do for myself. Either because I wouldn’t remember or I’d deem it unimportant.
She’s already printed out the brackets for Championships as well as a list of everyone who is coming to my workshop in Boulder on Thursday.
She’s downloaded the exact-right books to my phone for reading on the plane.
Itineraries, clothing, special bags, snacks. Barrington does it all!
And she knows why it’s important, whereas I tend to forget to take care of myself-from-now and me-of-next-week.
Sometimes I make lists of things I secretly wish Barrington might do (and then she does!).
Sometimes I make lists of things that I, as Barrington, feel moved to do for Brooks.
Sometimes we put fascinators in our hair and frolic around the room.
Play! And how things work in the spacious commenting blanket fort.
If you had your own travelling companion or personal secretary, what would he or she be up to today?
Or what would you do for your person if you got to be the companion? What would you like to have ready for you for the next voyage? Internal voyages count too.
If you like, you can whisper-share here. Or declare silent retreat, which is always okay.
What I would love:
Entertaining phrases that Barrington and I can use. Or things we might say. Like: “sharp as a tack!”
(Not invited: critique of the world that Barrington and I inhabit. I don’t especially care about plot holes, anachronisms, or if anyone is worried about my many personalities, as sometimes happens. Barrington can confirm that I’m delightfully eccentric, and she is always right!)
This is a place of support, play, shelter, exploration, and conscious interaction with our stuff. We don’t give each other advice, and we try to have as much fun as we are capable of.
Oh, and would you care for flowers in your stateroom? I believe that can be arranged…
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Absolutely LOVE IT! Hooray, hooray, hooray!
I think Barrington sounds positively corking, and I simply must find myself a companion just like her. Right after I give into the suddenly overwhelming urge to go read a Gail Carriger novel…
Oh how amazing… I have been so stressed about my upcoming trip, and what I need to do is get a traveling companion.
I wonder if Barrington knows anyone… 🙂
Barrington sounds like a most chaaaarming companion. Finding such satisfactory help eludes one nowadays. Mine can’t even properly butter a bloody cucumber sandwich!
Barrington sounds smashing! If anyone criticizes her, tell them to bugger off. I’ve been traveling quite a bit lately, and I now think I need a companion of my own. Thanks for the inspiration.
Cheers!
What a smashing idea! I don’t think you’re at all barmy. Keeps you from needing to beetle about last minute! I’m keen as mustard on this one.
(I love your ideas.)
Havi, I love this post. Clearly I need to cultivate a dashing and daring inner concierge.
By the way, I now have an image of you going undercover as a soccer mom–mom jeans (or full-length denim jumper over red turtleneck), Subaru Outback wagon, the whole nine yards–in order to do a Shiva Nata intervention with burned-out moms at the local ballfields.
Suzette appeared as I was reading this — and laughed that I was shocked to see her (laughing infectiously is one of her superpowers, as I am quickly learning).
“who else did you think bought you that blue nail polish and polished up your toes!?”
who else, indeed!
“Speaking of which, they’re looking a wee bit shabby — maybe it’s time for the gold that I picked up the other day for you. We can’t have you forgetting that you’re preparing for Rally (RALLY!), now can we?”
No, we can’t, Suzette. I think the two of us are going to get on smashingly.
Brilliant!
I think I’m about to meet my best friend and confidant, Betty, who wears vintage aprons and the big faux pearls from my son’s Dr. Frankfurter costume (and hats! with feathers on them! when she goes shopping). I think she has some plans for getting the house in order before my parents visit for a large meal on a convenient upcoming Thursday. (We don’t really do holidays, but WOW do we love to eat.)
I LOVE THIS!
I just decided that I have a fabulous personal assistant as well. He might be British as well, but really it doesn’t matter so much because his language skills are even better than mine so we constantly switch between English and Dutch and German anyway. He’s handsome, but in a non-sexual kind of way, so I don’t get distracted 🙂 He usually wears a suit and often sunglasses as well and he carries my luggage. He’s fully in charge of my schedule: he makes sure that I put my self-care stuff first, while making enough time for appointments and work. He never forgets to send birthday cards a few days ahead, and always reminds me when it’s time to bring out the garbage. I have pretty much stopped using my phone because he answers all calls and filters them, so I only have to take care of truly important things. I think I haven’t answered a call in a month or so!
Once a week we sit down for at my headquarters, and he’s always so AMAZINGLY well prepared. Knows exactly what we need to discuss, doesn’t talk any fluff, comes to the point without being hasty… He basically asks me what I want to do and then schedules it around the existing appointments. I don’t even need to think about it!
I really don’t know how I did it before I got him. Oh yeah, I remember, I was basically stressed out and unorganized most of the time, even though I love structure. Well, anyway, I don’t need to worry about that anymore.
There’s a good chance I’ll turn this game around later, and pretend I AM that personal assistant. Sounds like a fun job actually 🙂
Thanks Havi!
Entertaining phrases:
“Chip, chip, cheerio!” and “Old Chap!”
Excellent! Shall we take tea?!
Brilliant!
Some fun Britishcisms I’ve picked up being married to a Brit:
Jolly good.
When walking with a companion and negotiating something like a fire hydrant, you each go on either side of it and person #1 says “Bread and butter” and person #2 says “marmalade and jam.”
“Cheers” instead of thanks.
Be careful to say “bum” and not “fanny” as the latter is British slang for ladyparts.
“Are you pulling my plonker, mate?” is not really dirty and just means pulling someone’s leg. You can also “take the piss” out of someone. But don’t get pissed, you might have a bit of a “head” the next morning.
It’s not seven-thirty but half-seven.
I know I’ll be thinking of things all day but I best be off to work now.
Cheerio!
This may well be my favorite Fluent Self post of all time. I think it must be. It is, quite simply, the best idea I’ve ever heard, and makes me think of all my favorite things (a little Oscar Wilde here, a little Jeeves and Wooster there… but with more pretty corsetry and Devon cream teas.) You’re an inspiration, Brooks.
Tissue paper! Does Barrington ever pack your clothes in crisp, beautifully colored sheets of tissue paper? It’s heaven!
PS I’ve had a personal assistant do my packing for years. I hate packing, hate it I tell you. She’s a good worker, and she’s devised a nifty check list so nothing is left behind at home or at the glorious destination.
This is SO AWESOME, I haven’t even words. 🙂
I recently hired a promising new recruit to my pirate ship when it became apparent that this clever young whippersnapper REALLY LIKES doing my bookkeeping and can do it WITHOUT quite as much nailbiting and recovery time as I need. My new teammate’s love of number crunching has earned the noble moniker Captain Crunch. I have never seen anyone get so giddy about spreadsheets!
Ooh! I’m over the moon with excitement to learn about Barrington. She sounds simply fetching. Also, word to use:
The lift!
Instead of whooshing things into the Playground’s elevator, we can whoosh them to the lift!
Is it just me, or is anyone else’s brain now speaking in a very affected manner?
Okay. I’m in love with corking. 😀 I don’t have a personal assistant, but I get the feeling I’d like one. Must look into that!
The. Best. I adore how you skip the “should” and “must” stuff, completely bypass the “Buy My System Now!” crap, and still manage to clarify things for so many people. Beautiful!
I am astounded that no one has pointed out that you can now use the word “loo” in reference to the bathroom. As in, “I will go poo in the loo!” Or maybe that’s just me who is amused. Bahahahahaha!
I think I’m going to find myself a personal assistant. What a smashing idea! 🙂
Speaking of “sharp as a tack,” my Barrington-equivalent is named Sharpe and she is wonderfully efficient at making lists and sticking to them (she even has a special travel-list-making book!); and despite her pointy name she is also really clever at doing lovely things to my suitcase, such as putting in lavender-smelling items so all my pajamas come out smelling like heaven, or remembering to put in the extra-extra earplugs for when I can’t find the regular extra earplugs.
Generally our roles are thus (unless they are reversed, of course): I throw up my hands in horror, she deputizes me to make us both a stiff drink, and I lounge on the bed and tell her about my day while she packs up all the important things. She is tremendously talented at picking the exact right traveling case AND sneakily packing in an extra empty bag for the return journey. She always remember to begin packing exactly one day in advance of when *I* might remember to pack, and she is wonderfully sneaky about picking out my traveling-clothes.
Together we are Sharpe and Keen, and we are completely immune (by virtue of Sharpe’s witty and bemused view of the world) to disappointment from changed itineraries. It’s her superpower.
Perfect idea. I’ve long wanted a private secretary. I may also need a zen master, bodyguard, and cheerleader.
Oh goodness, this is SO much like Bertie Wooster and Jeeves!
I love this.
I’ve long had an invisible friend named Caroline who is fun, does crazy things, and takes over for me in awkward situations. She’s a lot like my sister.
I’ve been thinking that Boyd the Butler (from my cleaning service) would make a wonderful bodyguard — he’s well over six feet tall, and hefty, and in dark glasses he would look intimidating. If I had an invisible version with me in the airport, I bet travel would be less overwhelming. Boyd the Bodyguard.
I also have my Victoria persona who is always poised and elegant and when I take her advice, I am generally less rumpled and ruffled in any situation, not just travel.
Caroline and Victoria don’t want to take charge of the packing and arrangements, and I’m thinking I need to find my equivalent of Barrington.
Wow, I’ll be traveling with an entourage! Boyd the Bodyguard, Caroline, Victoria, me, and … ?
Did I just get carried away?
Addedum: instead of saying something is great, say “brilliant!” I heard that all the time in London.
How could ANYONE think it was fine to criticize in this space? Upon whoever has, we call down fire and brimstone and treacle.
My traveling assistant was on vacation last time I packed and forgot to leave me a note to remember my hairbrush. Fortunately DH and I both have hair.
Good travels on the Pirate Ship Pinafore and don’t forget to watch out for those pesky (tho’ ingenious) paradoxes (paradice?).
As a Brit, I’m finding your enjoyment of my language lovely 🙂 This reminds me so much of Mary Poppins-spit spot! In every job that must be done there is an element of fun, you find the fun and snap! The job’s a game! I have my suspicion that Havi might actually be Mary Poppins 🙂
In fact, I may advertise for my traveling companion in a similar way…
I love you and Barrington. Because now WE’RE not as alone.
Mine looks an awful lot like Amanda Palmer. We occasionally speak in British dialects and when disaster is narrowly averted, we say, “Orange you glad fill in the blank?” Anytime I’m unsure about a situation (traveling, etc), she’s there to tell me that I’m incredibly smart, and if I just breathe and observe (read SIGNS), I’ll be fine.
She also convinces me to talk to people when I feel shy, especially when I’m worried about sounding silly. “What are they gonna do? Shoot you?”
I’ve been making a point to cultivate our relationship further. This post just reaffirms that it’s a brilliant idea. Because this broad likes to think that I’m perfect and that my imperfections just make me even more rad.
I raise my rum-filled tea cup to you and Barrington. (Damn cool name by the way)
Also, best British-ism? “Chuffed.”
Apparently it means to be pleased with oneself. I approve heartily.
Ooh, this is SO fun! I had to go immediately put on some “chap hop” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0iRTB-FTMdk)and make myself a cup of darjeeling.
I suggest saying “Huzzah!” at all times, and saying “Hullo!” when you are surprised at something. Also talking as if you are adding Necessary Capital Letters to Important Words – like you are A.A. Milne.
Some thoughts for Barrington:
when you are driving thru Commerce City, it is helpful to imagine you are traveling thru Mordor, but all the orcs have gone. You’ll understand when you go by there.
Also, best Mexican food in Denver is at Taco Del Mexico at Santa Fe and 6th Avenue. It’s nowhere near the Wharf where your oceanliner will dock, but hey, you never know when you’ll be in downtown Denver and a CRAVING for the worlds best most soulful Mexican cuisine will GRIP you. Smashing!
Can’t wait to see you, ducks! Cheerio.
When Barrington has made short work of a devilish problem, she can brush off her hands and murmur “Sorted!”
And then she can remember that once you finish this bit over there, you will be positively *knackered*.
And omg ELEVENSES.
http://www.sustainablycreative.net/the-important-of-elevenses-or-why-its-vital-to-pace-yourself-and-stay-on-track/
Barrington! Delighted to make your acquaintance. You’ve reminded me that when I was in high school, I had an entire invisible entourage accompanying me, generally smoothing the way and making wry commentary on the day-to-day absurdities. They were rather Pthonesque, and had a knack for making dreary days lighter. How lovely it would be to see them again — in fact, I think I hear them now! Better put the kettle on –, ah, splendid, I see someone already has…
(That was meant to be “Pythonesque,” of course. Bloody typos!) 🙂
I am utterly gobsmacked! and bob’s your uncle.
My grandma always loved to say, “Well, La di da.” This can be used in any and all occasions. Some hand/arm flourishing should occur, too. 🙂
I hope that you and Barrington have a smashing good time on your ocean liner voyage!
(I may have to hire myself an accountant of Barrington’s caliber, for when it’s time to Do The Books. She will have a pencil behind her right ear at all times, the way I’ve never managed to do because I have the wrong shape of ears or something.)
@Leni – I will forever think of Commerce City as Mordor because of you. This is wonderful. I had to drive my husband to the airport this morning before the sun was quite up — yes, and two days after ending Daylight Savings Time, right? EARLY — and the factory? refinery? towers flaring sinister fires was a very Mordoresque sight.
Top hole! Thanks awfully! Scuse I! Cripes! Lummy! How positively ripping!
Barrington is clearly a sport, a good egg and an absolute brick.
Well, I’ll leave you to it, my darling girl. I’ve got to phone the sainted parentals.
Just one question, though – how do *you* pronouce goulash?
Wow.
That is just awesome. Exactly what I needed today. I think I will give instructions to my secretary for the work on my desk.
She is like Pepper from the Ironman Movie. Always calm and in charge and perfectly organized. And she loves to take care of me and is not afraid at all to do all the paper work on my desk. In fact, she loves it!!
Michelle
How spiffy! It sounds like a ripping good time! I say, how brilliant! Indeed!
Top drawer! This post inspires me to hire a personal secretary and a valet.
My valet, Alphonse, was a fashion designer before giving up that crazy world to come live with me.
He makes creative decisions oh so quickly and loves to organize my closet. I just tell him what I’m doing that day and he comes up with something “so me.”
He knows where all the good bargains are and loves to shop.
My personal secretary is a combination of Ernestine (Lily Tomlin’s phone operator – is that her name?) and an extremely organized grandma. She’s spry, wears 50s rhinestone glasses with the necklace thingy that holds them on. She won’t let anyone in to see me unless they have an appointment, unless of course, they are interesting or are bearing gifts.
We call each other “Dearie” ’cause her favorite expression is, “Be a dear and_______.”
She’s cheeky, guffaws instead of laughs, takes care of my schedule, phone calls, emails, and makes homemade soup for lunch.
I just don’t know how I would get on without them (from now on).
Love this post.
Posh British phrases you might like
are ‘Jolly hockey sticks’, ‘It’s really, awfully good’ ‘I must say…(when objecting to something)’, ‘Awfully sporting old girl’, ‘Top-hole!’, ‘super!’. I read alot of girls boarding school stories when I was young.I always wanted a tuck box packed with cake and jam and ginger beer to share with friends at a midnight feast.
Brilliant post, brilliant comments.
As a Brit myself, I’m so chuffed that I get to spend time in here with all you amazing people. Especially Barrington, who sounds right up my street (or otherwise, as we also say, just my cup of tea).
Pleasure to meet you, Barrington old girl, I’m delighted you’re taking such good care of Havi.
For those times when a stern exclamation is in order: “Here! I say, dash it!”
This is so wonderful. I have someone like this inside but have never invoked him or her directly. I think I was getting in the way. Must try the “out” approach.
Chuffilicious!
Love this so much!
I’ve read A LOT of british schoolgirl books written between 1920 and 1950, you’ve brought our my inner brisith schoolgirl voice. The phrase they used the most: “you’re a brick”
Which means: well done for dealing with that horrid* situtation and rising to the occasion in a generous and fuss free fashion.
I can now imagine Barrington saying: “Brooks, you’re a brick” whenever you gracefully deal with something that would otherwise have your monsters in a tizz.
Also, my very English friend insists that if in doubt have a cup of tea – there is nothing that a cup of tea cannot solve.
*horrid is also a good word
Okay, I finally remembered what I want to say.
Well done you!