Last weekend we had a really lovely day here in the Northeast - warm, sunny, gorgeous. Will and I decided to go for a picnic and walk in a nearby city park called Jesmond Dene:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jesmond_Dene
I had a really great time in the park, and it's amazing to me that we live only a couple miles away from this beautiful oasis. We took about a 2 mile walk while we were there, and all I kept thinking was "this is why I live in England, this is why I love it here". For the last couple months I have been feeling insanely homesick and constantly questioning whether or not I can ever truly adapt to living in Great Britain. In hindsight I realise that the two biggest reasons for this anti-UK period I was going through were that I miss my family and that there is a serious - and I mean SERIOUS - lack of sun in this country during the winter. Unless you're a vampire, it is physically impossible to avoid letting the 'dark nights' of winter in the UK get to you. It's just not right to live somewhere with so little sun in the winter - I can't IMAGINE living in Alaska where they don't get sun for months.
Anyway, now that it's starting to brighten up, warm up and get pretty darn green around these parts, I am falling in love with the country a little bit more and missing the US a little bit less. Funny how that works....
28.3.09
24.2.09
Hey sister, soul sister...
I made a huge mistake tonight. I let my iPhone pick the music for my 30 minute walk/jog using the Genius feature. I thought I had picked a safe song – “Andy, You’re a Star” by The Killers. I figured the Genius would create me a fairly rocking list of songs to “jalk” to along the streets of Gosforth. Unfortunately instead the big G decided to host me a playlist full of songs by The Decemberists, Bright Eyes, The Pixes, Death Cab for Cutie, Iron & Wine, and Spoon, along with some Coldplay, Damien Rice and Imogen Heap thrown in for fun. Well, let’s just say that a huge majority of the songs on that list are associated in my mind with my sister Susie and by the end of the 30 minutes I was missing her so much that it hurt more than the running itself. The most evil part is that because I was using my C25k iphone app to monitor my run progress, changing the playlist wasn’t an option without losing my progress in the application. ARGH I HATE YOU APPLE GENIUS!
So...I miss my sister. A lot. More than Kraft Mac & Cheese. More than Wendy’s even - and that’s saying a lot. It’s not that I don’t miss the rest of my family and friends immensely – I miss them all every single day. But being away from my sister is like missing one of my feet – I feel unbalanced and a little bit disabled. No one in this world can aggravate me as much as Susie can – she knows the buttons to push going back 30+ years. No one can appreciate and comprehend the person I have become as much as Susie either – she’s the only person who’s been engaged the entire time. My sister and I are opposite sides of the same coin, and living this far away from her physically hurts. God knows we don’t see eye-to-eye or get along all the time, but throughout my entire life - since the day she was born - Susie has been the single consistent beautiful thread in the patchwork quilt that is my life. I learned what family is really about through being a sister to her for the past 31 years and through her returning the favour to me. Having 4,500 miles between us doesn’t diminish our relationship but it damn well makes it harder to communicate and impossible to have shared experiences, and I mourn those facts a lot these days.
I loved the simplicity of our relationship when we were children – bossy braniac Julie and sweetly sinister Susie. The pair of us were known to everyone in our lives simply as “the girls”, yet even from a very early age we were incredibly dissimilar in our approach to life, which in hindsight proved to be positive building blocks for the bond we have now. As children, everything around us was complicated in a very nasty and adult way but the two of us lived in this fun little universe that we imagined for ourselves, a universe protected from the craziness around us and usually ended in either giggles or hair pulling. Of course, we don’t pull hair these days – luckily we’ve moved on and work out our differences in much more "adult" ways (usually involving alcohol). I truly love the complexity and nuances of our relationship now as adults. It’s sometimes painful, sometimes ridiculous, usually bizarre, often funny...and always, always loving to the best of our abilities, even during bad times.
I had planned to write something longer about the reality of being an expatriate with tight family bonds so far away, but the words are escaping me and sadly our dinner won’t make itself, so instead I will finish with some quotes on sisterhood which I like:
“A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost.”
Marion C. Garretty
"Husbands come and go; children come and eventually they go. Friends grow up and move away. But the one thing that's never lost is your sister."
Gail Sheeny
“ Sisters annoy, interfere, criticize. Indulge in monumental sulks, in huffs, in snide remarks. Borrow. Break. Monopolize the bathroom. Are always underfoot. But if catastrophe should strike, sisters are there. Defending you against all comers.”
Pam Brown
“You can kid the world. But not your sister.”
Charlotte Gray
“ If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child.”
Linda Sunshine
“ A sibling may be the keeper of one's identity, the only person with the keys to one's unfettered, more fundamental self.”
Marian Sandmaier
So...I miss my sister. A lot. More than Kraft Mac & Cheese. More than Wendy’s even - and that’s saying a lot. It’s not that I don’t miss the rest of my family and friends immensely – I miss them all every single day. But being away from my sister is like missing one of my feet – I feel unbalanced and a little bit disabled. No one in this world can aggravate me as much as Susie can – she knows the buttons to push going back 30+ years. No one can appreciate and comprehend the person I have become as much as Susie either – she’s the only person who’s been engaged the entire time. My sister and I are opposite sides of the same coin, and living this far away from her physically hurts. God knows we don’t see eye-to-eye or get along all the time, but throughout my entire life - since the day she was born - Susie has been the single consistent beautiful thread in the patchwork quilt that is my life. I learned what family is really about through being a sister to her for the past 31 years and through her returning the favour to me. Having 4,500 miles between us doesn’t diminish our relationship but it damn well makes it harder to communicate and impossible to have shared experiences, and I mourn those facts a lot these days.
I loved the simplicity of our relationship when we were children – bossy braniac Julie and sweetly sinister Susie. The pair of us were known to everyone in our lives simply as “the girls”, yet even from a very early age we were incredibly dissimilar in our approach to life, which in hindsight proved to be positive building blocks for the bond we have now. As children, everything around us was complicated in a very nasty and adult way but the two of us lived in this fun little universe that we imagined for ourselves, a universe protected from the craziness around us and usually ended in either giggles or hair pulling. Of course, we don’t pull hair these days – luckily we’ve moved on and work out our differences in much more "adult" ways (usually involving alcohol). I truly love the complexity and nuances of our relationship now as adults. It’s sometimes painful, sometimes ridiculous, usually bizarre, often funny...and always, always loving to the best of our abilities, even during bad times.
I had planned to write something longer about the reality of being an expatriate with tight family bonds so far away, but the words are escaping me and sadly our dinner won’t make itself, so instead I will finish with some quotes on sisterhood which I like:
“A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost.”
Marion C. Garretty
"Husbands come and go; children come and eventually they go. Friends grow up and move away. But the one thing that's never lost is your sister."
Gail Sheeny
“ Sisters annoy, interfere, criticize. Indulge in monumental sulks, in huffs, in snide remarks. Borrow. Break. Monopolize the bathroom. Are always underfoot. But if catastrophe should strike, sisters are there. Defending you against all comers.”
Pam Brown
“You can kid the world. But not your sister.”
Charlotte Gray
“ If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child.”
Linda Sunshine
“ A sibling may be the keeper of one's identity, the only person with the keys to one's unfettered, more fundamental self.”
Marian Sandmaier
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.
18.1.09
Missing home, and a public apology
For the last week I have been in an ungodly terrible homesick funk. Doesn't matter that my job is going really REALLY well, nor that my relationship with Will continues to grow closer week in and out, nor that most people I know back home never leave the US full stop, let alone get to live abroad and take weekend trips to places like Nice or Marrakech. For the last seven days, I have been completely and utterly loathing living in the United Kingdom. Every little thing that is different than how I grew up has been annoying me. Any correspondence from my family, especially if pictures were involved, reduced me to tears instantaneously. I have spent the last week feeling sorry for myself, isolating myself from everything around me and generally just hating the fact I live on this god-forsaken island. Hell, I even went as far as to blame the UK for dropping a bottle of wine on our balcony yesterday. My reasoning was that if I lived in America, I'd have a huge fridge that could take cases of wine in it and we wouldn't have to store the wine outside like we do here in the UK, and if the wine wasn't on the balcony, I wouldn't have worn my gloves when grabbing a new bottle and hence not broken the bottle and blurting out 'I f*£%ing hate this country'. The minute it came out of my mouth and I saw the look on my husband's face, I realised that my self-pitying UK-hating self needed to find some perspective.
It seems like every 4-6 months; I go through a really bad period of missing America, especially my family and friends but also just America full stop, the culture (or lack thereof), the food, the lights, the convenience, the cars, etc. It's only a temporary state but while I'm wallowing in it, I just get irritated by EVERYTHING that isn't American here. And I start getting paranoid that I'm changing too much, becoming more English than before, and that the longer I'm here the further away I drift from being an American girl. The last two spells of these feelings were in June and September respectively. The one in June lasted for weeks and didn't go away until we finally had some nice weather mid-summer. The one in September was brought on by missing my grandfather's funeral and not having my family at my wedding. Neither lasted long, and I really don't think this spell will either... it's all swings and roundabouts as they say over in ol' Blighty.
Moving on to the apology component of this entry. I really, truly must apologise to my darling husband Will for tolerating me during these anti-British spells. I love you so much my dear, and you don't deserve me spurting expletives about your home any more than I would deserve to hear the same about mine from you. You are incredibly compassionate and patient with me during these spells, and I do appreciate you so very very much. Plus, you remind me of the things in this country I CAN'T live without, which of course include you, British bacon and the BBC, although it's a close tie between you and the bacon for first place on that list.
x
It seems like every 4-6 months; I go through a really bad period of missing America, especially my family and friends but also just America full stop, the culture (or lack thereof), the food, the lights, the convenience, the cars, etc. It's only a temporary state but while I'm wallowing in it, I just get irritated by EVERYTHING that isn't American here. And I start getting paranoid that I'm changing too much, becoming more English than before, and that the longer I'm here the further away I drift from being an American girl. The last two spells of these feelings were in June and September respectively. The one in June lasted for weeks and didn't go away until we finally had some nice weather mid-summer. The one in September was brought on by missing my grandfather's funeral and not having my family at my wedding. Neither lasted long, and I really don't think this spell will either... it's all swings and roundabouts as they say over in ol' Blighty.
Moving on to the apology component of this entry. I really, truly must apologise to my darling husband Will for tolerating me during these anti-British spells. I love you so much my dear, and you don't deserve me spurting expletives about your home any more than I would deserve to hear the same about mine from you. You are incredibly compassionate and patient with me during these spells, and I do appreciate you so very very much. Plus, you remind me of the things in this country I CAN'T live without, which of course include you, British bacon and the BBC, although it's a close tie between you and the bacon for first place on that list.
x
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.
26.12.08
letting a little 'sunshine' in my life...
These extremely short winter days in England really zap me for some reason. This winter and last I have felt completely and utterly exhausted from late November onwards. Doesn't matter how much sleep I get, I'm constantly tired and when I'm tired, I'm not very pleasant to be around. And let's face it, I don't have many friends here as it is, so I really need to do something about it! Last year this cycle didn't really end until late spring and I anticipate the same again this year. I had never heard of 'Seasonal Affective Disorder' until I moved here, but the more I think about it and study my personal patterns, the more I realise I may be suffering from SAD, and honestly I probably always have but didn't realise the extent of it until I moved to a climate where the winter only allows 7-8 hours of light per day. These 'dark nights' really do exacerbate things a bit!
Will and I both took a Circadian Rhythm test today on the Philips site, and as I expected my results showed that I am much more impacted by these sunless winter days than my darling husband - which partially excuses my periodic moody bitchiness that is worse in the winter.
(Although honestly I can't blame SAD for all of my brattiness because let's just face it - I'm pretty high maintenance full stop and I am the first to admit it. That said, those who know me realise it's much worse when I'm tired, and in the winter I'm tired ALL THE TIME! )
A special thanks to my sister for supporting my stance that it's not ALL my fault by saying: "Yeah I've always thought you are worse in the winter!". Upon reflection, I realise this means she thinks I'm a beotch year-round, but just not as bad in the summertime; however she also admitted she must suffer from SAD year-round because she's never nice, which tickles me to no end. Ah Susie, how I love little pessimistic you.
Anyway, I've just ordered the Lumie alarm clock and I seriously want it to work. The whole theory behind it is that instead of waking you with an alarm, it slowly lights up creating a "false sunrise" and provides you light you so desperately need while also gradually waking you up instead of jolting you with a buzzer. Yes, I realise this sounds gimmicky and stupid, but I'm willing to try anything at this point as it's a long long way until April/May for 'natural' relief of these winter blues.
Will and I both took a Circadian Rhythm test today on the Philips site, and as I expected my results showed that I am much more impacted by these sunless winter days than my darling husband - which partially excuses my periodic moody bitchiness that is worse in the winter.
(Although honestly I can't blame SAD for all of my brattiness because let's just face it - I'm pretty high maintenance full stop and I am the first to admit it. That said, those who know me realise it's much worse when I'm tired, and in the winter I'm tired ALL THE TIME! )
A special thanks to my sister for supporting my stance that it's not ALL my fault by saying: "Yeah I've always thought you are worse in the winter!". Upon reflection, I realise this means she thinks I'm a beotch year-round, but just not as bad in the summertime; however she also admitted she must suffer from SAD year-round because she's never nice, which tickles me to no end. Ah Susie, how I love little pessimistic you.
Anyway, I've just ordered the Lumie alarm clock and I seriously want it to work. The whole theory behind it is that instead of waking you with an alarm, it slowly lights up creating a "false sunrise" and provides you light you so desperately need while also gradually waking you up instead of jolting you with a buzzer. Yes, I realise this sounds gimmicky and stupid, but I'm willing to try anything at this point as it's a long long way until April/May for 'natural' relief of these winter blues.
24.12.08
How quickly the year has passed...
I've been living permanently in the UK for 13 months now. This is my second Christmas here, although I sort of count it as my first because last year I had just arrived really and didn't have much time to think about the holidays really. I just found this pic of Will and I in our Christmas hats last year and I have three observations:
1 - My hair was so short just a year ago - wow! I'm not sure if I like it better in a bob or longer, jury is still out on that one...
2 - I have definitely put on some weight since then - I can see it in my (our) faces. Oh well, happiness (and yorkshire puddings) do that to you.
3 - Whew, thank God I took another chance on Will and building a life here in England - two Christmases ago I never thought it would have been possible.
Now, it's not all peaches and cream here in the UK. The damp damp damp climate and lack of sun in the winter means I get WAY more colds than I should. I am pretty lonely for my family and friends back in the States, especially when it could be at least 6-8 more months before I can make it back for a visit. I also am sad for Will, as I know he has holes in his family life that I can't fill and this time of year is hardest on him. But really, I try to set all of that aside and recognise the fact it would be SO much worse and I'm pretty damn lucky to be living abroad, working in a job I'm passionate about and sharing my life with a man who doesn't mind doing all the ironing. Life is good.
1 - My hair was so short just a year ago - wow! I'm not sure if I like it better in a bob or longer, jury is still out on that one...
2 - I have definitely put on some weight since then - I can see it in my (our) faces. Oh well, happiness (and yorkshire puddings) do that to you.
3 - Whew, thank God I took another chance on Will and building a life here in England - two Christmases ago I never thought it would have been possible.
Now, it's not all peaches and cream here in the UK. The damp damp damp climate and lack of sun in the winter means I get WAY more colds than I should. I am pretty lonely for my family and friends back in the States, especially when it could be at least 6-8 more months before I can make it back for a visit. I also am sad for Will, as I know he has holes in his family life that I can't fill and this time of year is hardest on him. But really, I try to set all of that aside and recognise the fact it would be SO much worse and I'm pretty damn lucky to be living abroad, working in a job I'm passionate about and sharing my life with a man who doesn't mind doing all the ironing. Life is good.
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!!!
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