This picture says 'Late 70s' all over it, don't you think? Well, I sure hope so as I'm using to enter blogger Noble Savage's giveaway contest for an 'old school' Sesame Street DVD.
Have a great '70s portrait of your self and love Sesame Street too? Check this out:
http://noblesavage.me.uk/2010/03/26/funky-friday-a-giveaway/
Showing posts with label me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label me. Show all posts
26.3.10
23.8.09
Healthier Living through Vodka
I will now prove to the world that drinking vodka is definitely a key component of healthier living.
(Note I say health-ier not health-y).
Will and I are on the path to healthier living. We’ve recently cut out all sorts of fattening foods, reduced our portion sizes, stopped eating out as much and are preparing more homemade healthy meals at home. I’m even baking all of our bread now using whole grain organic flours & minimal sugars. And yes, we’re cutting back on our intake of alcohol, because – let’s be honest here – alcohol accounts for a large number of the empty calories both of us have been shoving down our gullets the past 18 months.
Not that we’re excessive drinkers. At least not by the British standard, if that counts for anything? Until recently, we were sharing a bottle of wine with most evening meals and hitting the pub for pints once or twice a week. I’ve done the math(s) on this and figured out that each of us have been ingesting about 2,600 extra calories per week on average – without even really getting drunk!
Here are the hard, true facts:
2 large glasses of wine/day x 4 days/week = 1840 calories
4 pints of lager/week = 760 calories
Mind you, I’m not counting any periodic binge drinking in the equation. Not that we do it very often, but there definitely are the occasional mad night outs where one of us downs 2k calories of liquor on a single night… but if I’m throwing it all up the next day, the calories negate themselves on the way back out, right?
So…. 2,600 calories per week = ~371 calories per day. I would have to run about 40 minutes a day – every single day of the week – to offset that caloric intake. Currently I only run 3-4 times per week at 30 minutes a run. And even that takes up too much of my time. So, dammit, I need another solution.
Let’s face it: I’m not going to quit drinking completely. It’s just NOT gonna happen. Or at least not without me becoming a nun and/or crack addict. And I’m not interested in either of those life paths at this point in my career. I mean, I don’t like the associated fashion choices for a start. So dear me, what is a girl to do?!
Enter vodka, my hard liquor of choice.
A large glass (250ml) of dry white wine has about 230 calories. A pint of Premium Lager has about 190 calories. A single vodka & diet coke has, on average, about 55 calories.
Yes, I said 55 calories!
That means there are only 110 calories in a double!!!!!
That means that if I replace the same number of drinks I have on the average week with double vodkas & a nil calorie mixer instead of my normal white wine and lager, I cut over 1200 calories out of my diet each week. SIGN ME UP!
Will and I have decided to give this new approach a go. Additionally, we’re not drinking as frequently as before either, so in theory we should start seeing a change in our weight as a result over the next few months.
And now I have proven that vodka is indeed part of healthier living.
Please note, however, that I have yet to do the maths as to whether or not this is a sustainable option budget-wise given that Absolut is so expensive. One step at a time my friends, one step at a time. I’ll worry about whether or not we can afford the car payment once I’ve proven my theory is correct, preferably over a vodka tonic.
Also, I do recognise that this is no exact science, and I realise there may be flaws in my logic. Just give me a break and pour me another double please?
(Note I say health-ier not health-y).
Will and I are on the path to healthier living. We’ve recently cut out all sorts of fattening foods, reduced our portion sizes, stopped eating out as much and are preparing more homemade healthy meals at home. I’m even baking all of our bread now using whole grain organic flours & minimal sugars. And yes, we’re cutting back on our intake of alcohol, because – let’s be honest here – alcohol accounts for a large number of the empty calories both of us have been shoving down our gullets the past 18 months.
Not that we’re excessive drinkers. At least not by the British standard, if that counts for anything? Until recently, we were sharing a bottle of wine with most evening meals and hitting the pub for pints once or twice a week. I’ve done the math(s) on this and figured out that each of us have been ingesting about 2,600 extra calories per week on average – without even really getting drunk!
Here are the hard, true facts:
2 large glasses of wine/day x 4 days/week = 1840 calories
4 pints of lager/week = 760 calories
Mind you, I’m not counting any periodic binge drinking in the equation. Not that we do it very often, but there definitely are the occasional mad night outs where one of us downs 2k calories of liquor on a single night… but if I’m throwing it all up the next day, the calories negate themselves on the way back out, right?
So…. 2,600 calories per week = ~371 calories per day. I would have to run about 40 minutes a day – every single day of the week – to offset that caloric intake. Currently I only run 3-4 times per week at 30 minutes a run. And even that takes up too much of my time. So, dammit, I need another solution.
Let’s face it: I’m not going to quit drinking completely. It’s just NOT gonna happen. Or at least not without me becoming a nun and/or crack addict. And I’m not interested in either of those life paths at this point in my career. I mean, I don’t like the associated fashion choices for a start. So dear me, what is a girl to do?!
Enter vodka, my hard liquor of choice.
A large glass (250ml) of dry white wine has about 230 calories. A pint of Premium Lager has about 190 calories. A single vodka & diet coke has, on average, about 55 calories.
Yes, I said 55 calories!
That means there are only 110 calories in a double!!!!!
That means that if I replace the same number of drinks I have on the average week with double vodkas & a nil calorie mixer instead of my normal white wine and lager, I cut over 1200 calories out of my diet each week. SIGN ME UP!
Will and I have decided to give this new approach a go. Additionally, we’re not drinking as frequently as before either, so in theory we should start seeing a change in our weight as a result over the next few months.
And now I have proven that vodka is indeed part of healthier living.
Please note, however, that I have yet to do the maths as to whether or not this is a sustainable option budget-wise given that Absolut is so expensive. One step at a time my friends, one step at a time. I’ll worry about whether or not we can afford the car payment once I’ve proven my theory is correct, preferably over a vodka tonic.
Also, I do recognise that this is no exact science, and I realise there may be flaws in my logic. Just give me a break and pour me another double please?
4.2.09
Monkey Management 101
I just read a short and succinct book about delegation called 'The One Minute Manger Meets the Monkey'. I am pretty sure the author thought his audience had the attention span of a 9 year old when he wrote it because every fifth page has only one sentence on it, usually consisting of some sort of management mantra or painfully realistic principle. For example, here are some of the more poignant short attention span catchphrases used in the book:
"The Golden Rule of Management - THOSE WHO HAVE THE GOLD MAKE THE RULES"
"Experience is Not What Happens To You; It's What You Do With What Happens To You"
"Never Let The Company Go Down The Drain Simply For The Sake Of Practicing Good Management"
and my favorite:
"Things Not Worth Doing Are Not Worth Doing Well"
(poor punctuation and odd capitalisation directly transcribed from the book)
Interestingly though, I have found this short read quite helpful. I've identified a couple of bad habits I've exhibited in my recent past both personally and professionally, and I have a couple of decent new strategies for trying to keep other people's monkeys off my back (monkey being an analogy for the 'next move' in any project or activity). It was a worthwhile read, although I was a wee bit turned off by some of the fairly old school management style examples utilised, and also by the author's tendency to spoon feed the lessons to his audience. Despite those shortcomings, I definitely recommend it to anyone else fairly green to direct accountability for leading others and probably also for overburdened soccer moms who need to teach their husband's and/or children to clean up their own messes.
"The Golden Rule of Management - THOSE WHO HAVE THE GOLD MAKE THE RULES"
"Experience is Not What Happens To You; It's What You Do With What Happens To You"
"Never Let The Company Go Down The Drain Simply For The Sake Of Practicing Good Management"
and my favorite:
"Things Not Worth Doing Are Not Worth Doing Well"
(poor punctuation and odd capitalisation directly transcribed from the book)
Interestingly though, I have found this short read quite helpful. I've identified a couple of bad habits I've exhibited in my recent past both personally and professionally, and I have a couple of decent new strategies for trying to keep other people's monkeys off my back (monkey being an analogy for the 'next move' in any project or activity). It was a worthwhile read, although I was a wee bit turned off by some of the fairly old school management style examples utilised, and also by the author's tendency to spoon feed the lessons to his audience. Despite those shortcomings, I definitely recommend it to anyone else fairly green to direct accountability for leading others and probably also for overburdened soccer moms who need to teach their husband's and/or children to clean up their own messes.
14.1.09
adventures in commuting
Recently I converted into a public transportation princess, taking the Metro and bus everywhere I need to go. There are a lot of pros to this mode of transportation, including but not limited to spending only £50 a month for a bus pass instead of £300-£400 for a car. I also love the fact that I don't have to battle Newcastle traffic behind the wheel but instead wait it out it behind the pages of a good book every morning and night. I've read more books the last 6 weeks than I read the prior 6 months combined. It sort of rocks.
Another happy side effect of using public transportation 5 days a week is that I also get to experience some pretty weird shiznit on a regular basis. Here are a couple examples of recent encounters you might find amusing...
This morning while I was waiting for my bus just outside of Newcastle Central Station, I saw a very bizarre occurrence. A seagull swooped down and placed a tube of lipgloss on the ground 3 feet away from me, squawked and then flew away. Seriously, wtf did a seagull want with lipgloss in the first place?
Yesterday morning at 845am a drunk 19 year old girl passed out drunk in the front of my bus while her friends debated whether or not they were going to drag her drunk ass home yet again or just leave her on the bus to sleep it off. YET AGAIN? As in, being this drunk before 9am is a regular occurrence? Dear me!
Monday on the metro I witnessed a group of 10-year-old girls having a debate about whether or not one of the girl's boyfriends was really gay, or just pretending to be so because he didn't want her to kiss him. Their consensus at the end was that he must really be gay because boys don't say their gay if they're not, and who wouldn't want to kiss little miss as she's, and i quote, 'sexy'... Ten or eleven year old girls having this sort of conversation - seriously my head nearly imploded.
One of my favorite journey-mates is this middle aged transvestite man who periodically gets on our really crowded morning bus cross-dressed to the nines and then instead of facing forward like everyone else does, (s)he stands, facing towards the back, staring blankly backwards at the seated and standing passengers who are all facing frontwards. I love this guy, he really brightens my morning when I see him. I love seeing my British seatmates struggle to discern the most polite way to handle someone facing the wrong direction. Honestly, I really do think the 'facing the wrong direction' part bothers them more than the fact he's wearing a killer woman's business suit with red pumps and a bad wig. Brits don't really care about a person's sexual or wardrobe preferences, but going against the natural order of things on a bus or in queue are really big no nos. Like seriously, I think they'd flog you for jumping in a queue if they didn't have to apologise profusely afterwards.
Another happy side effect of using public transportation 5 days a week is that I also get to experience some pretty weird shiznit on a regular basis. Here are a couple examples of recent encounters you might find amusing...
This morning while I was waiting for my bus just outside of Newcastle Central Station, I saw a very bizarre occurrence. A seagull swooped down and placed a tube of lipgloss on the ground 3 feet away from me, squawked and then flew away. Seriously, wtf did a seagull want with lipgloss in the first place?
Yesterday morning at 845am a drunk 19 year old girl passed out drunk in the front of my bus while her friends debated whether or not they were going to drag her drunk ass home yet again or just leave her on the bus to sleep it off. YET AGAIN? As in, being this drunk before 9am is a regular occurrence? Dear me!
Monday on the metro I witnessed a group of 10-year-old girls having a debate about whether or not one of the girl's boyfriends was really gay, or just pretending to be so because he didn't want her to kiss him. Their consensus at the end was that he must really be gay because boys don't say their gay if they're not, and who wouldn't want to kiss little miss as she's, and i quote, 'sexy'... Ten or eleven year old girls having this sort of conversation - seriously my head nearly imploded.
One of my favorite journey-mates is this middle aged transvestite man who periodically gets on our really crowded morning bus cross-dressed to the nines and then instead of facing forward like everyone else does, (s)he stands, facing towards the back, staring blankly backwards at the seated and standing passengers who are all facing frontwards. I love this guy, he really brightens my morning when I see him. I love seeing my British seatmates struggle to discern the most polite way to handle someone facing the wrong direction. Honestly, I really do think the 'facing the wrong direction' part bothers them more than the fact he's wearing a killer woman's business suit with red pumps and a bad wig. Brits don't really care about a person's sexual or wardrobe preferences, but going against the natural order of things on a bus or in queue are really big no nos. Like seriously, I think they'd flog you for jumping in a queue if they didn't have to apologise profusely afterwards.
21.12.08
utterly lazy weekend
We have done nothing this weekend. Nothing of consequence at least. And, oh was a weekend of nothing so wonderful! To recap...
Saturday morning we got out of bed a little after 11am. Yes, 11 am ! Unheard of normally because either my bladder or the children who live upstairs wake us up earlier most weekends. Barely awake, we trudged over to the post office before it closed, where I nearly had a panic attack sending off my passport, marriage certificate and UK Visa off to the US Embassy for passport renewal. (Seriously, the entire walk home from the post office I was like OMG what will I do if it's lost? What will I do?! How can I trust that Royal Mail woman? What if they lose it? My life will be over! Must. Calm. Down).
Anyway after recovering from the post office traume and finishing off my organic fair trade skinny latte (which wasn't much better than the ASDA stuff I brew at home), we walked into Gosforth, bought some magazines and had lunch at the Brandling Arms pub, where we then lazed around and read/drank for several hours. Good food, leather couches, white wine and warmth all for less than £20 - can't beat it. We headed home when it was starting to get dark (which is about 345pm these days!), made supper and pretty much did nothing the rest of the night but watch telly and talk about how disgusting the flat is, making promises of cleaning 'tomorrow'. I think I was in my PJs by 830pm - exciting huh?
Today we slept in until after 10, made a lovely breakfast of poached eggs, fresh-baked baguette and bacon from the Gosforth butcher and caught up on The Daily Show whilst drinking coffee. We've watched 3 movies today - Bottle Rocket (hilarious!), The Escapist (predictably average) and Iron Man (AWESOME, oh and I am so in love with RDJ!). We also did a deep clean of the flat, cooked another meal and basically stayed in the entire time. Boring to many, lovely to us. And cheap! After last weekend's Manchester spending spree I was quite happy to stay in.
Oh, yeah. We watched the latest Simpson episode (or the latest one showing in the UK to be more precise). I just don't see how they keep churning them out so successfully. How in the hell do they keep that show relevant after so many years? It started in 1987 on Tracie Ulman - 21 years ago - and still is funny and modern to this day. And oh, that last sentence just made me feel really old - jeez, 1987 doesn't actually seem that long ago anymore. Ugh.
Only one remotely unpleasant thing to note from the weekend, and really it's nothing big. My current 'trauma' is that my Christmas tree is shedding like MAD. I really think it might have pine-tree alopecia or something. I have NEVER had a tree shed this bad, and before you comment - yes, I am watering it. The needles are coming off at such a rate that some of the ornaments are sliding off bare twigs with the the slightest vibration from the wind as you walk slowly past. It's absolutely annoying! I sweep them up twice a day at least, and I have NO IDEA how we're going to get that thing out of this 2nd floor flat (3rd floor US) without a huge mess in the hallways. Ugh, how I miss my old place in Columbus where I could just chuck the sucker out the back balcony and drag it to the street without a care in the world. Those were the days!
Back to work tomorrow. Which means going back to nothing to work on. Starting a new job at Christmas time isn't exactly a thrill a minute, but I shouldn't complain I suppose. I'm just really sick of CBTs and staring at the company logo while drinking vending machine coffee for hours on end. My boss says after the new year things will pick up and I won't have a minute to breathe, so I am trying to enjoy the downtime while I can. He's taking me to our London location Tuesday, which means flying down and back in a single day (the benefit of working for an airline). They call it 'Duty Travel'. Makes me feel like I'm in the military or something!
Ok, so enough droning on for now. I'm going to attempt to blog more in 2009, but hopefully my subject matter will be a little more interesting by then.
x
Saturday morning we got out of bed a little after 11am. Yes, 11 am ! Unheard of normally because either my bladder or the children who live upstairs wake us up earlier most weekends. Barely awake, we trudged over to the post office before it closed, where I nearly had a panic attack sending off my passport, marriage certificate and UK Visa off to the US Embassy for passport renewal. (Seriously, the entire walk home from the post office I was like OMG what will I do if it's lost? What will I do?! How can I trust that Royal Mail woman? What if they lose it? My life will be over! Must. Calm. Down).
Anyway after recovering from the post office traume and finishing off my organic fair trade skinny latte (which wasn't much better than the ASDA stuff I brew at home), we walked into Gosforth, bought some magazines and had lunch at the Brandling Arms pub, where we then lazed around and read/drank for several hours. Good food, leather couches, white wine and warmth all for less than £20 - can't beat it. We headed home when it was starting to get dark (which is about 345pm these days!), made supper and pretty much did nothing the rest of the night but watch telly and talk about how disgusting the flat is, making promises of cleaning 'tomorrow'. I think I was in my PJs by 830pm - exciting huh?
Today we slept in until after 10, made a lovely breakfast of poached eggs, fresh-baked baguette and bacon from the Gosforth butcher and caught up on The Daily Show whilst drinking coffee. We've watched 3 movies today - Bottle Rocket (hilarious!), The Escapist (predictably average) and Iron Man (AWESOME, oh and I am so in love with RDJ!). We also did a deep clean of the flat, cooked another meal and basically stayed in the entire time. Boring to many, lovely to us. And cheap! After last weekend's Manchester spending spree I was quite happy to stay in.
Oh, yeah. We watched the latest Simpson episode (or the latest one showing in the UK to be more precise). I just don't see how they keep churning them out so successfully. How in the hell do they keep that show relevant after so many years? It started in 1987 on Tracie Ulman - 21 years ago - and still is funny and modern to this day. And oh, that last sentence just made me feel really old - jeez, 1987 doesn't actually seem that long ago anymore. Ugh.
Only one remotely unpleasant thing to note from the weekend, and really it's nothing big. My current 'trauma' is that my Christmas tree is shedding like MAD. I really think it might have pine-tree alopecia or something. I have NEVER had a tree shed this bad, and before you comment - yes, I am watering it. The needles are coming off at such a rate that some of the ornaments are sliding off bare twigs with the the slightest vibration from the wind as you walk slowly past. It's absolutely annoying! I sweep them up twice a day at least, and I have NO IDEA how we're going to get that thing out of this 2nd floor flat (3rd floor US) without a huge mess in the hallways. Ugh, how I miss my old place in Columbus where I could just chuck the sucker out the back balcony and drag it to the street without a care in the world. Those were the days!
Back to work tomorrow. Which means going back to nothing to work on. Starting a new job at Christmas time isn't exactly a thrill a minute, but I shouldn't complain I suppose. I'm just really sick of CBTs and staring at the company logo while drinking vending machine coffee for hours on end. My boss says after the new year things will pick up and I won't have a minute to breathe, so I am trying to enjoy the downtime while I can. He's taking me to our London location Tuesday, which means flying down and back in a single day (the benefit of working for an airline). They call it 'Duty Travel'. Makes me feel like I'm in the military or something!
Ok, so enough droning on for now. I'm going to attempt to blog more in 2009, but hopefully my subject matter will be a little more interesting by then.
x
10.12.08
(sur)Reality Check
Generally speaking, I’m starting to forget I live in a foreign country. Sometimes when I used the word ‘home’, I’m actually referring to here rather than the good old US of A. The transition has been slow, subtle and admittedly painful at times, but it’s happening nonetheless. My vernacular is evolving at an impressive pace, as well as my wardrobe. I’m still glaringly American to everyone here of course, but I am pretty sure I seem less American than before to those Stateside. Basically, I’m acclimating, simple as that. Yet sometimes I have these weird almost out-of-body moments where I become acutely cognizant of the fact that I am an alien, that this culture isn’t MY culture and that really, truly I don’t understand what it’s like to be British any more than they can possibly understand what it’s like NOT to be British. These moments occur less and less frequently these days, but when they do, it’s quite powerful.
I had one of these strange epiphanies today on the Metro, coming home from work. ‘Epiphany’ isn’t exactly the correct word to describe the feeling though, it’s more like a sense of ‘deja-vu’ combined with ‘what the f*ck?’ and ‘where am I?’ all rolled into a ten-second mini roller coaster of the mind. There wasn’t any one thing that set me off today on the train… like every other day, I was reading my book and ignoring everyone around me, constantly stopping mid-sentence to make sure I hadn’t missed my stop. About the third go at double-checking the station sign, I became hyper-conscious of the people around me talking, and how different they sound to me. And then I noticed their clothes and their faces and started thinking about how they grew up compared to me, and within a few seconds I was like ‘Oh my god, I’m in a foreign country, this isn’t my life, this feels so weird.’. A momentary panic ensued followed by the reassuring announcement that the next stop was Regent Centre, which means I was almost home. Home. That’s what I thought instinctively, I’m almost home. And suddenly I didn’t feel foreign or weird or misplaced anymore.
I wonder sometimes if these moments will cease occurring, or if it will always be like this for me? I’m so intrinsically American, and proud to be so, that the thought of losing these periodic moments makes me sad in a way. I don’t crave to be different – I don’t want to stand out all the time. But I also don’t crave to be a nationality I’m not, nor to lose touch with the culture that formed me from infancy. Only time will tell I suppose… wait and see, wait and see.
I had one of these strange epiphanies today on the Metro, coming home from work. ‘Epiphany’ isn’t exactly the correct word to describe the feeling though, it’s more like a sense of ‘deja-vu’ combined with ‘what the f*ck?’ and ‘where am I?’ all rolled into a ten-second mini roller coaster of the mind. There wasn’t any one thing that set me off today on the train… like every other day, I was reading my book and ignoring everyone around me, constantly stopping mid-sentence to make sure I hadn’t missed my stop. About the third go at double-checking the station sign, I became hyper-conscious of the people around me talking, and how different they sound to me. And then I noticed their clothes and their faces and started thinking about how they grew up compared to me, and within a few seconds I was like ‘Oh my god, I’m in a foreign country, this isn’t my life, this feels so weird.’. A momentary panic ensued followed by the reassuring announcement that the next stop was Regent Centre, which means I was almost home. Home. That’s what I thought instinctively, I’m almost home. And suddenly I didn’t feel foreign or weird or misplaced anymore.
I wonder sometimes if these moments will cease occurring, or if it will always be like this for me? I’m so intrinsically American, and proud to be so, that the thought of losing these periodic moments makes me sad in a way. I don’t crave to be different – I don’t want to stand out all the time. But I also don’t crave to be a nationality I’m not, nor to lose touch with the culture that formed me from infancy. Only time will tell I suppose… wait and see, wait and see.
6.12.08
i hate my immune system!!
I have been sick for about 2 months off and on, with a few good days here and there but mostly sick sick sick. Will and I keep passing bugs back and forth and it's exhausting! I mean, I'm so tired of being ill that I'm actually laying off on booze and taking supplements. Seriously, it's that bad. The funny part is that I'm not really getting super sick - just mildly - but it's been going on for so long now that I'm not sure whether or not I could pass a drug test. Over the last couple months I've had to buy enough Sudafed, ibuprofen, Nurofen CF, Night Nurse and other various OTCs that I think the Boots pharmacy staff is starting to suspect I'm running a meth lab rather than self-medicating. Please please please let this be the last of my colds for awhile!!!
17.6.08
long lost friend and fading memories
There used to be a time when Kraft Macaroni and Cheese was a major staple of my diet. As in at least once per week, usually more often. I would sometimes add shredded cheese, or jalepenos, or tuna or chili but in the end my main love was the boxed mac and cheese itself. And it was a long lasting love affair we had together, probably the longest one in my entire life. Until last June, when we parted ways once I realised how many points M&C has on weight watchers. And alas, I sure did miss this American classic !
I think it's been about a year since I actually ate any Kraft Mac & Cheese. At first it was because of WW, and then it was because I moved to the UK where it's not sold. In April I smuggled two boxes back with me from the States; however I had resisted the urge to eat this dear friend until tonight, a night when Will is out and I can be an indulgent American junk foody with little or no whining.
My plan was to skip lunch so that I was super hungry, then make the M&C for an early dinner and eat the whole box myself. As I boiled the noodles, I was so excited. I added a wee bit of shredded cheddar, some fresh ground pepper and some Cavendar's Greek seasoning and then dove straight into a huge bowl. At first it was bliss, each and every bite more satisfying than the next. For about six bites, that is...Let's just say that I'm SO glad I didn't put a load of salt into it like I would have back home, because apparently my tastebuds are changing here and super salty processed foods like mac and cheese, um, well they kinda gross me out!
I ended up throwing away a little under half of it, which is such a shame considering how much I used LOVE mac and cheese. I mean, seriously, I could eat it five days a week back in the day and now I can barely eat one bowl.
What is wrong with me ? I feel so un-American, so un-me! Couple this with the fact that I could NOT remember the American terms for a couple of food items this week, such as aubergines and sunblushed tomatoes, I am really freaking out about my obviously fading American-ness. I can cope with the changes in my spelling and speech, because I'm basically paid to write emails and talk on the phone all day long and my primary interfaces are English; however losing my American food identity is just completely unacceptable! Next thing you know, I'll prefer tea over coffee and calling cookies 'biscuits' ! And the final step is everyone telling me I 'sound just like Madonna' - fuck that shit !
Time to watch some American cooking shows online and get my new British-leaning self in check. Or maybe I'll watch Scrubs. Enough Zach Braff can cure me, I'm sure of it !!
I think it's been about a year since I actually ate any Kraft Mac & Cheese. At first it was because of WW, and then it was because I moved to the UK where it's not sold. In April I smuggled two boxes back with me from the States; however I had resisted the urge to eat this dear friend until tonight, a night when Will is out and I can be an indulgent American junk foody with little or no whining.
My plan was to skip lunch so that I was super hungry, then make the M&C for an early dinner and eat the whole box myself. As I boiled the noodles, I was so excited. I added a wee bit of shredded cheddar, some fresh ground pepper and some Cavendar's Greek seasoning and then dove straight into a huge bowl. At first it was bliss, each and every bite more satisfying than the next. For about six bites, that is...Let's just say that I'm SO glad I didn't put a load of salt into it like I would have back home, because apparently my tastebuds are changing here and super salty processed foods like mac and cheese, um, well they kinda gross me out!
I ended up throwing away a little under half of it, which is such a shame considering how much I used LOVE mac and cheese. I mean, seriously, I could eat it five days a week back in the day and now I can barely eat one bowl.
What is wrong with me ? I feel so un-American, so un-me! Couple this with the fact that I could NOT remember the American terms for a couple of food items this week, such as aubergines and sunblushed tomatoes, I am really freaking out about my obviously fading American-ness. I can cope with the changes in my spelling and speech, because I'm basically paid to write emails and talk on the phone all day long and my primary interfaces are English; however losing my American food identity is just completely unacceptable! Next thing you know, I'll prefer tea over coffee and calling cookies 'biscuits' ! And the final step is everyone telling me I 'sound just like Madonna' - fuck that shit !
Time to watch some American cooking shows online and get my new British-leaning self in check. Or maybe I'll watch Scrubs. Enough Zach Braff can cure me, I'm sure of it !!
9.6.08
Nostalgia
I recently became reacquainted with an old high school friend through email. She found me initially on classmates.com, which I refuse to subscribe to because it's 'pay', so after a week or two of clever profile changes, I was able to tell her where to find me on other FREE sites and eventually we connected. Her name is Amy (yeah, can you believe that - yet another Amy to add to my list - so now we have AmyMo, Acxiom Amy and HighSchool Amy). Myself, Amy and a girl named Kim were fairly inseparable in high school for 2 years, yet somehow I haven't connected with her once in the 15 years past. Probably doesn't help that I moved away from Ohio as soon as I could find an excuse, and didn't return for 10 years, and I pretty much blocked out everything prior to 1996 in my mind at the same time. Coping mechanism in part, but probably mostly due to sheer laziness on my own part - keeping in contact with peeps is hard work !
For obvious reasons, this sudden contact with HS Amy is bringing back a LOT of memories from those days, most of which are much more pleasant and fun in hindsight than reality actually was during my high school years. Thank God for that, huh? Given that I'm not usually prone to nostalgia about those days, I've been in a weird head space over it all as of late. It's quite interesting to me how much I've changed since those days in many ways, while at the same time I think I'm very much the same person deep inside. Amy sure seems to be able to relate to the now-Julie just as easily as the then-Julie, and we haven't spoken in 15 years. Given, we were VERY close back in the day, and I don't get super close to people easily so it makes sense she and I are getting along via email fine, but it's just weird considering I'm 2x as old now as I was when I saw her last.
The other side effect of this reunion is that I'm having dreams about high school again. Any time I am reminded of that time period, my dreams change for awhile. Some of the dreams are pleasant, but there is this recurring one that I can't shake that's not so pleasant. I keep dreaming that there was some problem with my graduation processing in 1993 and they revoked my diploma in modern day, forcing me to go back to High School as a 32 year old woman. And everything I hated about HS is 10x worse as an adult, yet I can't escape because I HAVE to have my diploma to hold a job. The dream situations is completely ludicrous of course, but somehow upsets me every time I have it. I mean, seriously...what's more frightening that having to deal with teenage angst at 32 years of age? Nightmare, I call it.
This weekend I started thinking about what I looked like back then (cringe!). Somewhere in this flat I have some really hilarious pics that I need to scan in and post on flickr. Absolutely shocking how nerdy and misfit I was back then - omg. Seriously, big hair, big glasses and bad clothes. Enuff said.
For obvious reasons, this sudden contact with HS Amy is bringing back a LOT of memories from those days, most of which are much more pleasant and fun in hindsight than reality actually was during my high school years. Thank God for that, huh? Given that I'm not usually prone to nostalgia about those days, I've been in a weird head space over it all as of late. It's quite interesting to me how much I've changed since those days in many ways, while at the same time I think I'm very much the same person deep inside. Amy sure seems to be able to relate to the now-Julie just as easily as the then-Julie, and we haven't spoken in 15 years. Given, we were VERY close back in the day, and I don't get super close to people easily so it makes sense she and I are getting along via email fine, but it's just weird considering I'm 2x as old now as I was when I saw her last.
The other side effect of this reunion is that I'm having dreams about high school again. Any time I am reminded of that time period, my dreams change for awhile. Some of the dreams are pleasant, but there is this recurring one that I can't shake that's not so pleasant. I keep dreaming that there was some problem with my graduation processing in 1993 and they revoked my diploma in modern day, forcing me to go back to High School as a 32 year old woman. And everything I hated about HS is 10x worse as an adult, yet I can't escape because I HAVE to have my diploma to hold a job. The dream situations is completely ludicrous of course, but somehow upsets me every time I have it. I mean, seriously...what's more frightening that having to deal with teenage angst at 32 years of age? Nightmare, I call it.
This weekend I started thinking about what I looked like back then (cringe!). Somewhere in this flat I have some really hilarious pics that I need to scan in and post on flickr. Absolutely shocking how nerdy and misfit I was back then - omg. Seriously, big hair, big glasses and bad clothes. Enuff said.
25.3.08
Public transport pro?
As I travel to Teddington from Durham today, it strikes me that I'm becoming a bit of a pro at utilizing mass transportation. Three months ago I used England's infamous rail and tube stations cautiously and with loads of self-doubt, constantly worried about getting lost or always fumbling like a fool with my bags whilst simultaneously riding an escalator or buying a ticket. Three months ago, a four-plus hour journey to Teddington via public transportation would have put me totally on edge, and by the time I got there, I would have been frazzled. Today I feel incredibly cool and content during my journey, which seems to be a dramatic shift within me. So now I am starting to wonder exactly what has changed.
It's obvious to me that I've become one of the Average Jane commuting masses. I "fit in" somehow, instead of always sticking out like a sore thumb as I did in the recent past (or rather I came off like a car-dependent bus-phobic Middle American to be more accurate). Here is some proof…
I pack my belongings in the manner most optimal for the journey ahead. Roller bag if long stays, backpack for short ones, purse inside backpack if tube AND train, outside if tube only. Always keep both sunglasses AND an umbrella in my bag's side pocket when an outdoor hike is required, as the weather changes rapidly here.
Before departing, I put my Oyster card &/or train tickets in my right hand outermost coat pocket for quick access to the ticket scanner or to show the porter.
Amazingly, I can now both collapse the handle on my suitcase and carry it up tube station stairs all with one hand & in one smooth motion without missing a step (the key is proper thumb-on-handle placement).
I have mostly broken my American habit of always walking on the right side of the gangway, and instead I can weave in and out on the left with ease.
I have memorized all the tube and train stops which I frequent, usually down to the level of knowing which side the doors open at each station, and also what carriage to be on for the post-departure race for first in queue at the taxi stand.
I have all the various fares memorized, and I pay for my tea with exact change whenever possible to keep the snack trolley vendor happy and efficient. Hell, I can even walk up the escalators on the left like a sprinter without feeling any awkwardness, no matter what type of heels I'm wearing!
I assume this change has occurred in me slowly over time, but for some reason today it seems dramatic and sudden. I mean... sure, I still get lost or trip over the tube gap from time to time still, but its less scary than before and usually due to me being the clumsiest person alive instead of due to my public transport naivety. And that subtle difference makes me feel so good.
Sent from my iPhone.
It's obvious to me that I've become one of the Average Jane commuting masses. I "fit in" somehow, instead of always sticking out like a sore thumb as I did in the recent past (or rather I came off like a car-dependent bus-phobic Middle American to be more accurate). Here is some proof…
I pack my belongings in the manner most optimal for the journey ahead. Roller bag if long stays, backpack for short ones, purse inside backpack if tube AND train, outside if tube only. Always keep both sunglasses AND an umbrella in my bag's side pocket when an outdoor hike is required, as the weather changes rapidly here.
Before departing, I put my Oyster card &/or train tickets in my right hand outermost coat pocket for quick access to the ticket scanner or to show the porter.
Amazingly, I can now both collapse the handle on my suitcase and carry it up tube station stairs all with one hand & in one smooth motion without missing a step (the key is proper thumb-on-handle placement).
I have mostly broken my American habit of always walking on the right side of the gangway, and instead I can weave in and out on the left with ease.
I have memorized all the tube and train stops which I frequent, usually down to the level of knowing which side the doors open at each station, and also what carriage to be on for the post-departure race for first in queue at the taxi stand.
I have all the various fares memorized, and I pay for my tea with exact change whenever possible to keep the snack trolley vendor happy and efficient. Hell, I can even walk up the escalators on the left like a sprinter without feeling any awkwardness, no matter what type of heels I'm wearing!
I assume this change has occurred in me slowly over time, but for some reason today it seems dramatic and sudden. I mean... sure, I still get lost or trip over the tube gap from time to time still, but its less scary than before and usually due to me being the clumsiest person alive instead of due to my public transport naivety. And that subtle difference makes me feel so good.
Sent from my iPhone.
16.11.07
Hints for Internet Stalkers
When you live your life on the internet like many people do nowadays (especially those of us in the Interactive profession), you open yourself up to "googling" and other forms of light-weight internet stalking. That's why it's best not to put anything out in cyberspace that is secret or damning or otherwise inappropriate for your mom, potential employers, coworkers or even enemies to find. At the same time, in order to stay relevant and interesting in the online space, you must put yourself out on a limb at least a little bit, or else why the hell even contribute to the social networking monster that is the "interweb" at all? I mean, seriously, if you're going to do nothing but post pics of your babies or comment on sport team standings, why even bother?
The general rule of thumb is to find the balance between anonymity and exposure that is humorous, interesting, relevant as well as safe all at once. It's a hard balance to find, but once you do, it's easy to withstand a bit of internet stalking and fanatacism now and again. My good friend Amy does this the best of almost anyone I know, both on her flickr and her blog. Amy is a role model for not saying too much or too little while still staying interesting, and that's primarily because she knows first hand how easy it is to find shit on someone if you're skilled enough.
Internet stalking, social networking and online personas have been a topic of conversation for me and my friends/coworkers a lot the past year. We've all worked on projects pertaining to these topics, and admittedly we all spend hours a month googling not only each other, but ourselves, our bosses and anyone who is remotely interesting or incredibly boring. It seems to be human nature these days to stalk on the net, and the people I worked with are some of the best, primarily because they design viral and social network campaigns for a living.
So, my dear friends, what is the key to being a really great internet stalker?
Let me give you a few important hints:
1. Keep your stalking to yourself. If it gets out you do it, it could bite you in the ass. Plus it's kinda of creepy to openly stalk people you barely know online, even if everyone else is doing it too.
2. Be thorough, complete and accurate in your research, especially if you decide to violate rule #1. Else you might end up looking like a complete ass to everyone around you, or worse, get bitch-slapped by an angry victim.
3. Your comments will follow you everywhere. If you hit on someone by commenting on their blog, or say something crass or rude, there is a high chance those comments and your info could be indexed by a web-crawler and the next time someone googles YOU, what you said will be found and reflect poorly on you. Or expose you for the jerk you really are, whichever is the case.
4. Always assume that everyone you stalk is more technically savvy than yourself. There is no such thing as anonymity online anymore, and the data collected about you and your habits online is not within your control.
The good news is that most of us who live our lives partially on the net have a sense of humor about it, and don't really care if our friends, family, coworkers or other sad folk would rather read about us on a computer screen than get to know us in person. Plus, we find it really fucking funny when we get to blog about the creepy stalking behavior of others. :P
Good night everyone.
Julie
The general rule of thumb is to find the balance between anonymity and exposure that is humorous, interesting, relevant as well as safe all at once. It's a hard balance to find, but once you do, it's easy to withstand a bit of internet stalking and fanatacism now and again. My good friend Amy does this the best of almost anyone I know, both on her flickr and her blog. Amy is a role model for not saying too much or too little while still staying interesting, and that's primarily because she knows first hand how easy it is to find shit on someone if you're skilled enough.
Internet stalking, social networking and online personas have been a topic of conversation for me and my friends/coworkers a lot the past year. We've all worked on projects pertaining to these topics, and admittedly we all spend hours a month googling not only each other, but ourselves, our bosses and anyone who is remotely interesting or incredibly boring. It seems to be human nature these days to stalk on the net, and the people I worked with are some of the best, primarily because they design viral and social network campaigns for a living.
So, my dear friends, what is the key to being a really great internet stalker?
Let me give you a few important hints:
1. Keep your stalking to yourself. If it gets out you do it, it could bite you in the ass. Plus it's kinda of creepy to openly stalk people you barely know online, even if everyone else is doing it too.
2. Be thorough, complete and accurate in your research, especially if you decide to violate rule #1. Else you might end up looking like a complete ass to everyone around you, or worse, get bitch-slapped by an angry victim.
3. Your comments will follow you everywhere. If you hit on someone by commenting on their blog, or say something crass or rude, there is a high chance those comments and your info could be indexed by a web-crawler and the next time someone googles YOU, what you said will be found and reflect poorly on you. Or expose you for the jerk you really are, whichever is the case.
4. Always assume that everyone you stalk is more technically savvy than yourself. There is no such thing as anonymity online anymore, and the data collected about you and your habits online is not within your control.
The good news is that most of us who live our lives partially on the net have a sense of humor about it, and don't really care if our friends, family, coworkers or other sad folk would rather read about us on a computer screen than get to know us in person. Plus, we find it really fucking funny when we get to blog about the creepy stalking behavior of others. :P
Good night everyone.
Julie
7.11.07
Cultural Difference #1: Fancy Dress Parties
My darling Will and I are going to a Christmas/Holiday party in London on December 5th that is a movie-themed fancy dress party. And no, fancy dress does NOT mean ball gowns and tuxes in the UK. Fancy dress parties in Britain are all about costumes... and they are thrown for absolutely no reason at all. Unlike the US, the Brits seem hell bent on costume parties year round, not just at Halloween. Here is what Wikipedia has to say about it:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fancy_dress#Fancy_Dress_parties_in_Britain
This custom of having themed costume parties any time besides October is foreign to me. Not only do the Brits throw them for holiday parties, but apparently dressing up in themed costumes is popular for Hen Nights (bachelorette parties) and big birthday bashes. For example, Will was out recently with friends and came across a group of women out celebrating their friend's big 4-0. The entire group was dressed up in Medieval-themed fancy dress. Yes, I said Medieval... When I questioned this, he agreed it was incredibly bizarre. Good, I thought, he thinks dressing up in the middle of the year is weird too, I feel safe now. But no.... apparently it was not the fact they were dressed up that Will found bizarre, but instead it was strange because normally women dress up as naughty nurses, slags or something like that for a birthday event! Seriously? I mean, why?! What gets me about this response is that, to my lovely British boy, wearing a costume in public outside of Halloween is perfectly normal , but apparently going the medieval route is a little too much.
I just am not sure if I will get used to this penchant for fancy dress that the Brits seem to have. Maybe I'm just too cheap or easily embarrassed? Not quite sure... but if this is hard for me to swallow, how in the hell am I going to be able to handle Christmas crackers?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fancy_dress#Fancy_Dress_parties_in_Britain
This custom of having themed costume parties any time besides October is foreign to me. Not only do the Brits throw them for holiday parties, but apparently dressing up in themed costumes is popular for Hen Nights (bachelorette parties) and big birthday bashes. For example, Will was out recently with friends and came across a group of women out celebrating their friend's big 4-0. The entire group was dressed up in Medieval-themed fancy dress. Yes, I said Medieval... When I questioned this, he agreed it was incredibly bizarre. Good, I thought, he thinks dressing up in the middle of the year is weird too, I feel safe now. But no.... apparently it was not the fact they were dressed up that Will found bizarre, but instead it was strange because normally women dress up as naughty nurses, slags or something like that for a birthday event! Seriously? I mean, why?! What gets me about this response is that, to my lovely British boy, wearing a costume in public outside of Halloween is perfectly normal , but apparently going the medieval route is a little too much.
I just am not sure if I will get used to this penchant for fancy dress that the Brits seem to have. Maybe I'm just too cheap or easily embarrassed? Not quite sure... but if this is hard for me to swallow, how in the hell am I going to be able to handle Christmas crackers?
23.10.07
H20 is my friend
In July I started following a pretty strict dietary plan (ala Weight Watchers) in order to lose the 14 pounds I have gained since I moved to the grand old CMH. Another goal for me is to be as healthy and thrifty as possible for the first time in my life, reducing my dining out and alcohol consumption greatly (hence reducing my waistline AND increasing my bank balance!).
One of the mainstays of eating healthy is drinking a shitload of water every day. I have been hearing this for years and just never bought into it, then in July I started this high-fiber nutritional plan. After a few days, the thirst hit and bam! next thing you know, I'm drinking 60+ ounces of water a day minimum. Water is my life now. I have multiple water bottles that I carry around with me (reusable, of course!). Usually I have at least one at home, one at work and sometimes one in the car.
Step One: I admit it, I am an addict. If I don't get enough, I feel ick. If I miss ounces in the double digits, the thirst drives me crazy and next thing I know, I'm drinking it out of the tap, (unflavored even!) in my desperation. I need it, I want it, I gotsta gotsta have it.
Side note: I can't stand plain unflavored water, so I'm also addicted to zero-cal flavorings now, such as Crystal Light or 4C. My favorite flavors are pink lemonade and cranberry ice. The most disgusting I've tried is peach tea... avoid at all costs !!
My addiction knows no ends. I drink it the minute I wake up, even before my shower quite often. And yes, I admit it... I put a freshly-filled bottle next to my bed before I go to sleep just in case I need some during the night. Of course I usually have a glass right before bed as well, usually with a benadryl to help with my allergies.
The result of all this drinking is that I pee at least three times more a day than I did before. My skin is much less dry than ever before, and often I pass up beer and wine for a huge glass of water...not out of guilt, but out of actual desire. How did this transition occur? I have no idea.... but whatever it is, it sure does feel good to be doing something healthy for once. Not saying I don't have the occasional binge drinking night... of course I do, as my neuroses and love for liquor are still strong... but even hangovers are much easier to weather these days, and I'm pretty sure it's because of my new BFF H20.
One of the mainstays of eating healthy is drinking a shitload of water every day. I have been hearing this for years and just never bought into it, then in July I started this high-fiber nutritional plan. After a few days, the thirst hit and bam! next thing you know, I'm drinking 60+ ounces of water a day minimum. Water is my life now. I have multiple water bottles that I carry around with me (reusable, of course!). Usually I have at least one at home, one at work and sometimes one in the car.
Step One: I admit it, I am an addict. If I don't get enough, I feel ick. If I miss ounces in the double digits, the thirst drives me crazy and next thing I know, I'm drinking it out of the tap, (unflavored even!) in my desperation. I need it, I want it, I gotsta gotsta have it.
Side note: I can't stand plain unflavored water, so I'm also addicted to zero-cal flavorings now, such as Crystal Light or 4C. My favorite flavors are pink lemonade and cranberry ice. The most disgusting I've tried is peach tea... avoid at all costs !!
My addiction knows no ends. I drink it the minute I wake up, even before my shower quite often. And yes, I admit it... I put a freshly-filled bottle next to my bed before I go to sleep just in case I need some during the night. Of course I usually have a glass right before bed as well, usually with a benadryl to help with my allergies.
The result of all this drinking is that I pee at least three times more a day than I did before. My skin is much less dry than ever before, and often I pass up beer and wine for a huge glass of water...not out of guilt, but out of actual desire. How did this transition occur? I have no idea.... but whatever it is, it sure does feel good to be doing something healthy for once. Not saying I don't have the occasional binge drinking night... of course I do, as my neuroses and love for liquor are still strong... but even hangovers are much easier to weather these days, and I'm pretty sure it's because of my new BFF H20.
22.10.07
i feel censored
The things I want to write about I cannot in such a public forum at this time, and everything else seems boring or unnecessary. Hence I'm writing to write about nothing. One day all will be clear and I can be more transparent about my feelings, but for now it's all about waiting. And for fuck's sake, waiting sure does suck.
Til later.
Til later.
16.9.07
schiller park experience
Today I posed for my flickr friend Bryan at Schiller Park in German Village. It was a very interesting experience, quite fun yet at the same time I felt out of my league. I can be quite photogenic when I put the camera up over my head and take a shot from above (the most flattering position EVAH); however, in general I am not as comfortable with shots taken showing more than just my face, especially from below or far away. I'm an incredibly self-critical person and I just can't help but hate most pictures of me. Bryan posted the one featured here on flickr today, and I think it's a beautifully composed shot, amazing colors, beautifully lit, etc., but of course my immediate thoughts go to things like "my thighs look big" or "i look WAY older than normal", or "i have no boobs anymore". Yes, I know, I'm annoying. Oh well.
So, my modeling days are definitely limited, but I did have a good time today and I am glad I took the leap. Although I REALLY struggled not to laugh in every shot, so in shots like this one where Bryan told me to have a serious face, I was trying so hard not to laugh that I think at times I probably look constipated or stoned because I was trying SO hard not to crack up. Typical me. Ha.
So, my modeling days are definitely limited, but I did have a good time today and I am glad I took the leap. Although I REALLY struggled not to laugh in every shot, so in shots like this one where Bryan told me to have a serious face, I was trying so hard not to laugh that I think at times I probably look constipated or stoned because I was trying SO hard not to crack up. Typical me. Ha.
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