Savorie Girl

Delightful Things and Other Thoughts

2011-05-20T07:39:00.001-07:00

Things that are delighting me this week:

My university's hot drink vending machine. Does it make a terrific cup of coffee? Not really. But it's cheap (50p!) and it does the job. And since I've been studying ALL week on campus in the library, I've been very, very happy that it's there. Instant warmth and immediate gratification, all wrapped up in a little paper cup. Mmmmm. Thanks, coffee beans.

My new favorite TV show - The Chicago Code. The pilot episode premiered last week, and after watching last night's show, I'm officially hooked. Seeing the city onscreen in all its gritty, urban glory is making me homesick. Soon enough I know I'll be back amidst the noise, the exhaust fumes and the chaos, and I'll wonder why I missed the place. But it's home. Plain and simple. I'll admit to having a crush on this character too. I know, I know, a cop with a temper. But he's HOT. It's that whole avenging, protecting thing. I just learned that the show's been cancelled in the U.S., which bums me out seeing as it just started here. Ah well, 'tis better to have loved and lost...

Long walks at night. The sun doesn't officially set here until almost 9pm, and I'm digging the lateness of the light. It can get me in trouble from a "to-do" list perspective (Wait, the sun is still up so I have all night to finish this chapter! Uhhhh, nope.) but I'll take it. Winter here is heavy, and it feels damn good to shake it off.

Cooking. I've got less than two months left and I'm down to pennies. Opening the wallet yields little more than gum wrappers and bobby pins so I'm trying as hard as I can to limit my trips to Tesco. I'm being creative with the cupboards, and so far I haven't died yet (there's still time). This week's concoction? Chickpea, onion and tomato soup. It's pretty good - even better when served with the remnants of a perfectly ripe avocado and some melted cheese and spelt crackers. For dessert last night I made these peanut butter banana 'doughballs' (gluten free!) and they were mighty tasty with my evening cuppa.

Staying Ahead of the Curve. I'm changing it up a bit with the schoolwork this week and actually studying for a couple of hours each day instead of procrastinating and putting things off until the last minute. It's not that I don't enjoy the heroic marathon essay writing sessions, but there is something sweet about reading at a leisurely pace. It's a whole different mindset and one that I'm loving. Who knew that there could be homework WITHOUT panic? It also helps that I've not been temping as much, so there's been extra time in my schedule. Too bad extra time = extra broke. Ah well.

It's funny to read this list. My 2010 self would be very jealous of this week. So much of my life last year was spent running around like a crazy person, wired, on edge and exhausted. To have time this week to cook, to exercise, to read....what an absolute joy it's been. This is the kind of life I fantasized about - all those Monday mornings sitting bleary eyed at work, thinking it had to get better. And it did, imagine that.

I'm working very hard to live in these moments each day. This time will be ending soon, and I'm not sure in which direction I'll be heading just yet. I don't even know if I want to continue writing here. I struggle so much with showing up on this page. This all seems so terribly boring and self serving and I don't know how much more of it I want to do. The idealist in me wants to come away from this year with a fresh perspective on work, to start new things that are meaningful and creative and giving. I've done the navel gazing, the reading, the reflecting. It feels like it's time now to get on out there and start DOING.

So we'll see.

I'd Rather Be Thinking About Cake

2011-05-04T10:47:00.000-07:00

I'm a bad, bad blogger. I'm sorry.

I miss being here. Life's been a whirlwind lately. Mom was here on vacation and we had a Parisian adventure AND got the chance to watch the Royal Wedding from a very lucky vantage point in London. It was an incredible ten days and I completely unplugged from just about EVERYTHING.

So it's back to real life now. The last official term of my Masters program started this week and I'm smack dab in the thick of paper writing, research and interview practice. It's going to be a busy couple of weeks in particular as our class scrambles to complete our last graded interviews, group work sessions and community placements. It's intense. And while I'd rather be waxing poetically about things like the coffee walnut cake with buttercream icing that almost made Mom miss her flight, and just how electric it felt to be in London on Royal Wedding day, instead I'm spending my writing juice on things like postmodern constructivist career guidance theories and their role within the interpretivist movement. Sigh. (But when I'm done, I'm totally going back here for more of that cake.)

I've made the decision to move back home to the States in July, and that has my head spinning too. There is so much to process and things are starting to have a little bit of a bittersweet flavor. I've only now started to feel really settled here. Isn't that how it goes?

I'll be back as soon as I can. In the meantime, here are a couple of my favorite pictures from Paris. I didn't get a shot of the drunk man who decided to run up behind me and grope my backside in the middle of a very public square (that goes on my list of my Top Ten Unfun Moments), nor did I get a photograph of the angry bakery guy who overcharged us for breakfast by at least ten euros, our red and gold hotel room which looked like a bordello, or the waiter who conveniently 'forgot' to give us the change on our eight euro Coca-Cola Lights (have you ever tried to argue in French?)

Instead, I leave you with the prettified version. Paris is gorgeous, yes, but she can sometimes be a bitch.

Knackered

2011-04-12T13:54:00.000-07:00

...is one of my most favorite British words. It sounds just a little bit dirty, but it's not at all. It means exhausted, and that is what I am.

Whew.

Shortly after I wrote my last post I went down with a nasty case of the stomach flu, followed by a lovely cold and cough that hung on for two weeks. (I blame the kiddie cars. Damn kiddie car germs!) Being sick away from home is hard, but it's also pretty funny. Losing one's faculties (along with one's lunch) is the ultimate equalizer and the entire experience brought into sharp focus just how much there is to be thankful for in life. Namely, Lucozade and cream crackers. And the ability to sit up without moaning or wanting to die.

I'm better now, which is a good thing because I'm just about to embark on the last term of my degree program and there is a hell of a lot of work to be done in the next two months. The weather here has been beyond gorgeous for the past few weeks. It's felt more like summer than spring, and I've actually had to leave my flat to study because I couldn't see my laptop screen through all the sunlight streaming through my windows. (File that one in the "Problems I Don't Mind Having" drawer).

In between all of this, I took some time to go on a Photo Walk in London (if you live here and are at all interested in photography, join this group! It's a delightfully relaxing way to explore parts of the city you might not otherwise see AND meet some very cool and creative people.)

The event I signed up for began at Mile End in East London and ended overlooking Olympic Park. In between we wound our way along canals, through green spaces, and into industrial neighborhoods covered in graffiti.

It was a refreshing day, and one that reminded me that my time here is short and I need to make the most of it. It's just going way too fast.

I'm Gonna Need More Than One Cup of Coffee Today

2011-03-26T00:33:00.000-07:00

I love easing into my day with a cup of coffee and some keyboard time. It's my chance to get caught up on blog reading, to let the bathtub fill, and really, just get used to the idea of being AWAKE. (Because boy howdy, do I looooove sleeping.)

Today, I get to work my Saturday Mall Temp Job. Which is very different from the Car Dealership Temp Job. I will get to wear a polyester blazer and a nametag and answer questions I have absolutely no business being asked. Telling you where the toilets are is easy - that one I'm good with. Figuring out the best place in the mall to buy suitcases or potato mashers? I need to study up on those. And honestly, I have no idea where the shop is that you're asking me about - but I will look at a map with you, and after a certain amount of time wave my hand in the general direction of the place I think it is, and hope that it magically appears along the way.

I have a walkie-talkie which is good because you wouldn't believe the number of people who fall down or throw up while at a shopping mall. So I get to sometimes call Security and say important things like, "We've got an upchucker on Level 2". And that's fun.

In between all the questions I also get to rent little red kiddie cars. You'll see 'em in the background here:

(Check out that blazer! You can't see it in the picture, but it smells like pizza and someone else's BO. Good times.)

Those little red cars are the bane of my existence. Sure they look innocent enough - but man oh man do those suckers make me sweat. Each one is connected to a chain with a tiny little padlock from 1996 that may or may not decide to open with my crooked little mini-key. And that, right there, adds up to just TOO MUCH PRESSURE for minimum wage. I don't do well with lines of Moms and crying children waiting, especially when Whitney Houston is belting in the background on the mall speakers way too loud. (I know you'll always love me Whitney, thanks.) I'm waiting for the day I get canned when someone actually overhears what I'm mumbling under my breath as I'm jamming the keys in to the locks and trying not to trip over myself. The only thing that saves me is my mental calculation of just how many train tickets into London I'm earning with each turn of the key. (Not many, but enough.)

So yeah, bathtub is full, and second cup of coffee is waiting. Let's get on with this day!

Spring has Sprung

2011-03-24T12:04:00.000-07:00

What a glorious week it's been. Blazing blue skies and sunshine every time I walk out the door. I can't remember the last time I was actually HOT walking down the street - this week? Yep. I even broke a sweat. Oh how good it felt.

I'm savoring every single moment as I know it's all going to go 'pear shaped' later this week. (Wanna know what that means? The lovely Tara wrote THE BEST list of UK phrases here. It's amazing and well worth a visit!) Yes, there's rain and cold in the forecast, but I still can't feel that bad since everyone I know back home in Chicago woke up to a blanket of snow today.

It feels good to enjoy this. I'm happy.

Help Japan

2011-03-17T23:26:00.001-07:00

The beautiful ladies over at The Blog Guidebook have created a new poster to support those in need in Japan. All proceeds go directly to Save The Children: Japan Earthquake Tsunami Children in Emergency Fund.

You can learn more by clicking on the button to the right or going directly to The Blog Guidebook here. (Thank you Lyndsay and Sarah!)

Spread the love.

A day in London

2011-03-17T23:13:00.001-07:00

It was back to Templand this week, so I took advantage of a day off to enjoy a day in London before the chaos ensued.

It was nice.

And then, some goodness.

2011-03-13T04:15:00.000-07:00

What a lovely week it's been. The paper is finished (certainly not perfect, but DONE) and I took a bit of a break from all the temp work. Funnily enough, it was starting to get in the way of my schoolwork, and that's not a good thing! So this week was spent tending to my courses, getting back to all that reading I'd been putting off, and hanging out with London again (oh how I've missed that city).

Wednesday, in particular, was fabulous. The National Career Guidance Show was in town at Wembley Stadium, and a group of us decided the conference would provide the perfect excuse for a city adventure. We met at Charing Cross and immediately decided a stop for coffee was needed. (Have I mentioned how delightful my classmates are? These are my kind of people.) After making our way to Wembley (one tube and one Overground train ride later) we FINALLY made it.

We wound our way around the building, a vast expanse of metal and concrete, and finally found the correct exhibition hall. After a meander around the various booths and a stop for tea and biscuits (of course) we were ready to move on for the evening and decided to head into the city for a glass of wine.

After a comical start trying to find an operating Tube station, the six of us finally made it to Westminster where the husband of a classmate was waiting. We rode the giant escalator to the top and as I walked out of the station my breath caught and I laughed. I was standing literally at the foot of Big Ben, his glowing face in stark contrast to the purple dusk behind. It surprised me because the last time I was that close I was a tourist, and suddenly it was different. I was there with a group of good and funny people I considered my friends, and we were just about to walk into a pub where we'd take up a lot of space at one of those big wooden tables near the fireplace and probably laugh too loud.

We tucked into a bottle of the house Pinot Grigio, ate packets of cheddar and onion crisps, and tried to figure out how we could all start our own business together. We ordered more wine and then started to talk about the real stuff - the failed relationships in our past, and the kinds of things that we worried about. Soon some had to leave, but a group of us carried on and wound our way to dinner (is it just me or does there always seem to be a Pizza Express when you need one? Thank goodness for them and their 20% student discount.)

As we walked down the sidewalk to the restaurant, one classmate shared stories of spending time in the city with her father as a child and feeding the ducks in Hyde Park. Seeing the city through her eyes somehow made London friendlier. I will always be an outsider here, I just don't have the history to be anything but, but for a night I felt like I belonged and that was so very very nice.

Paper Writing and Temp Job Surviving

2011-03-06T00:18:00.000-08:00

I have a BIG paper to write today. Which is of course why I'm over here instead. I've put this one off for too long and now I sit facing the kind of day that will only include numerous cups of coffee, piles of blankets and my laptop. There will be no bathing or getting into 'real' clothes, only pajamas and bedhead (one thinks short hair is easy, but not if you want the option of going out ANYWHERE in the morning without showering - I swear to God I must whip my head back and forth into my pillow all night at a high rate of speed to get this kind of volume. Sheesh.)

It's cold and cloudy outside and quite frankly I'm looking forward to a day parked on the couch. I've been working a lot of temp jobs over the past few weeks and boy howdy have they been draining. Minimum wage adventures that require full attention and lots of quick thinking. They're easy and exhausting at the same time, which is an odd combination. These jobs remind me of my sixteen year old self and all the time I spent working on my feet and with the public here. The jobs are fun when I remember not to take them so seriously and absolutely awful when I forget. I'm being exposed to people I wouldn't normally have met here in England, which is a good thing and helps me remember just how much effort I've put into designing a life that allows me to do work that is meaningful, with people who genuinely bring me joy.

I forget, sometimes, all the work it took to get here.

P.S. I know, I know, I ended this post rather 'cheesily' - it's probably because I've just woken up from the first eight hour sleep I've had all week. There were many, many moments over the past seven days that found me crying, sweating (polyester mall blazers suck), swearing under my breath, and eating peanut butter sandwiches and tins of sardines in really strange places (not together of course - eww!). Such is the reality of expat student life. It's really funny sometimes.

Things I Learned on My School Internship

2011-02-19T02:32:00.000-08:00

I just finished a two week placement at a mixed gender comprehensive school here in the UK with 1500 students between the ages of 11 and 18.

I'm ready for a nap now. Wake me up next month?

Here are just a few of the things I learned:

Politics in academia are everywhere - even across the pond. Why why why no sense of humor? I just don't understand this.
Stopping work for a cup of tea at 11 o'clock every morning tastes and feels heavenly
There is nothing louder than the shriek of a 15 year old girl trying to impress her friends. Oy.
Silver haired geography teachers in corduroy blazers are cuuuuuute.
The three words that people continually associate with Chicago are "gangsters," "snow" and "guns".
Teachers should make no less than a six-figure income. (I always knew this to be true, but observing some of the things I did on this placement just cemented this fact. The amount of work they do is astounding, as well as the barriers they continually have to climb over every day)
Acne is caused by stress and lack of sleep. Not chocolate or french fries. (Hello, first breakout since I moved here six months ago)
Old souls come in all shapes and sizes
Being up early enough to see the dawn come is cool every now and then because you get to see scenes like this:

Be My Valentine?

2011-02-14T13:17:00.000-08:00

It's the end of Valentine's Day and I'm snuggled in at home, drinking hot chocolate and thinking about how wonderful it sounds to crawl in bed early with a book.

I'm still on my internship for one more week, and today's schedule was jam packed. I got the chance to do a couple of career interviews on my own, learned more about the nuances of the English school system (the terms GCSE, A star to C grades, A levels, BTECS and NVQs are actually starting to make sense and sound less like word salad in my head) and sat in on a couple of fascinating leadership meetings. But the absolute highlight of my day? Getting a chance to help an Economics teacher write and distribute the school's Valentine's cards. Remember those? At my school we'd stand in line in the lunchroom with a sweaty quarter in our pocket waiting to scrawl our innermost thoughts on a piece of scrap paper. I remember handing it over to some random substitute teacher and praying they'd get it right and deliver it to my real secret crush.

So yes, today I had the chance to read the intimate romantic ramblings of a bunch of 14 year olds. Being privy to these notes was something I didn't take lightly and they did not disappoint. They were faaaaaaaantastic. Phrases like, "I am inextricably drawn to you" and "Your beauty and intelligence knows no bounds." I mean, COME ON. You're killing me here. Reading these little gems took me back to my days of young romance and all the love letters of my youth. I was lucky enough to have some really awesome boyfriends and I was romanced with a capital "R". There were cassette mix tapes filled with angsty songs (Depeche Mode still makes me weak in the knees) and cheesy Hallmark cards overflowing from front to back with REAL HANDWRITING. It wasn't about iTunes playlists or Facebook pokes, it was tangible stuff and it was exhilarating. Oh and I had a thing for handwriting too - I could easily fall in love on the basis of penmanship alone. Still can. Rrrraaawwwwrrrrr.

One boyfriend who went away to college shortly after we fell in love sent letters written in blue fountain pen. He wrote pages and pages of sweetness on gray linen paper, the curve of his script gorgeously masculine and sexy. Those letters lived a long life in a dusty cardboard box at the bottom of a linen closet until one summer night when I tore them to shreds on the advice of a well meaning marriage counselor. But it wasn't the ghost of this love that got in the way of my marriage. It was the marriage that got in the way. I can still see the garbage bag on my living room floor, filled with paper. At the time I thought what I felt was relief, but I was wrong. I miss those letters. Everyone should have a right to keep their cardboard boxes. They're filled with beautiful stories.

So another Valentine's Day has come and gone. I've been single for a lot of 'em now and I'm pretty used to it. It's so nice not to have to worry about picking out a gift or going out for an overpriced dinner. No drama or too sweet champagne over here!

But I do miss a good card.

The Un-Beautiful Post

2011-02-12T15:42:00.001-08:00

My walk to work

Today's post is brought to you by deserted streets, broken glass, assholes and pools of stale urine. No stylized still-lifes or perky platitudes here, just a healthy dose of reality. (With a bit of alliteration sprinkled on top).

If you came here looking for a bright and sparkly post about cozy cups of coffee and fields of sunshine it ain't happenin'. This week was a doozy, and I apologize to those of you that come here for the pretty bits. Rest assured, I'm still a happy camper - but right now my head is spinning.

A friend sent me this video on why I need to get off Facebook earlier this week and I'd be lying if I told you I didn't fall in love with its writer just a little bit. The message is spot on (plus he's gorgeous). We are all more than what we put out here on these pages and there is a depth and complexity in our real lives that cannot be captured in this flat space. I can post all the shiny pictures I want to here, but unless you're sitting next to me on the couch you won't know about my shit day at the new temp job getting yelled at by strangers or the problem I'm having getting the stench of pee out of my nostrils from the train ride home. (Dodging angry drunks and broken glass was fun too.)

My goal here isn't to be a downer. Anything but. In a funny way, this little bit of truth telling is my way of reaching out to whoever is out there on the other side to say hi, and isn't all of this crazy? Each of us walks our path every day. Today mine happened to be a lonely early morning hike to a car dealership where I would earn just a tad more than minimum wage to answer phones and transfer calls to people who didn't want to answer them. I was Invisible Girl. And that's okay, because a lot of expat life is spent on the outside observing. Two pre-requisites for becoming an expat? Buckets of self-esteem and the ability to self soothe.

But you can't make love to a bottle of vodka.

I Forgot To Put On Deodorant Today

2011-02-01T12:06:00.001-08:00

It's true.

I also woke up with garlic breath strong enough to kill a horse* AND got my period.

Normally these things wouldn't be a problem, except for the fact that today was a Big Deal at school. (I have trouble saying "at school" here, since the word school has a different connotation in the UK than in the U.S. But I think you get what I'm sayin'? If not - I'm talking about that building I go to to earn my Master's degree.....)

Anyway.

Today was the day that a busload of students was delivered to my university's front door to help us practice being career advisers. They ranged in age from fifteen to seventeen and provided the requisite amount of shrieking and eye rolling. They helped us practice our question asking and workshop teaching and provided enough challenging moments to make the majority of us wonder if in fact we've chosen the wrong career?

It was a day of watching, listening and judging and at the end of it we each walked away with six pieces of blue paper filled with scribbled sentences detailing our strengths and weaknesses. There were no surprises. I could talk for hours about my "Areas of Development" and will be the first to tell you all the things I need to learn. I come to this adventure with enough experience to understand that sometimes days suck and there's nothing I can do about it. Sometimes they suck a lot. Today was one of those days and I'm glad that it's over and I'm on to the "glass of wine and pajamas" part of the evening.

*The garlic breath was worth it though - I made this last night and it was deeeeeeeelicious.

Sunday Life

2011-01-30T01:42:00.000-08:00

Ahhhhh. It's Sunday morning and I've got my cup of cinnamon coffee and my most favorite fluffy purple blanket. It's been an incredibly busy past couple of weeks and I'm enjoying the feeling of not rushing to be anywhere. I'm meeting a friend in London later this afternoon, and before I go I have to tackle a bit of homework, but for now, I'm enjoying the quiet - and some very yummy honey and peanut butter toast.

Last week was a whirlwind. Big projects and presentations at school and I had my first temporary office gig with a new agency I registered with earlier this month. It's been a long time since I've done a "9 to 5" day and I have to say I loved it. I've missed the structure of working, and the feeling of being useful. It was an easy day - all I was doing was answering phones and greeting candidates for interviews, but there was a small part of me that worried if I would trip up on any cultural tangles, but thankfully, I didn't seem to commit any major faux pas (that I know of). I drank about 17 cups of tea - there were only two of us in the office and each time one of us finished a cup, we'd put the kettle on and make a fresh cup for the other. Such a nice thing. The person I worked alongside was kind and thoughtful and I enjoyed feeling part of something, even for a short while. I mentally calculated how many train tickets into London I was earning as each hour passed me by and that was a good feeling too.

I'm on the second cup of coffee now which means it's time to get to the homework. Happy Sunday lovelies!

It Might Look a Bit Strange 'Round These Parts

2011-01-21T01:50:00.000-08:00

Hello pumpkins!

It's been a little over a year since I started this blog (can you believe it?) and I'm thinking things could use a little refreshing over here design-wise. So if my little patch of internet real estate looks a bit wonky for a while, bear with me. I'm riding a pretty steep blog learning curve.

Cheers!

If My Horoscope is So Good, Why Am I All Freaked Out?

2011-01-17T14:24:00.000-08:00

Man oh man. It's January and I've got a major case of expat flu.

My January horoscope rocks (I'm not buying into the new sign hullabaloo) so I'm not sure why exactly I'm feeling so weirded out. There could be a couple of reasons I suppose, the most obvious one being I had a really fantastic visit home for the holidays. But I'm back now and about to embark on the busiest term of the schoolyear. There's a mountain of homework staring me in the face, the rain isn't letting up, and apparently I'd rather just swim in the nostalgia than get my arse in gear.

It was the first Christmas I can remember that I wasn't working, which meant I was truly on vacation and got to do things like go for afternoon tea in Chicago, visit my very dearest friends, drink martinis here (I have YET to find a decent martini in England), road trip to Wisconsin for brunch, and sip peppermint tea in my red snowflake flannel pajamas watching Craig Ferguson with the P's and the world's sweetest dog by my side. It was hard to leave all that. (Of course it was.)

So after a very funny jet lagged journey back to the flat from Heathrow with an astonishingly heavy suitcase (how many female hernia operations are as a result of the stairway at the Earl's Court tube station I wonder?) I arrived home to a flat I literally didn't recognize. I was gone only three weeks but it felt like a lifetime and I didn't remember the person that lived there. Who on earth left all those unread Metros on the coffeetable and did she really drink that instant coffee in the square jar on the counter? Yikes.

Taking a one-eyed peek at my online bank balance brought me back to instant reality and I recognize now that while it might feel good to swim around in all that nostalgia, it's high time I got out of the pool. There are jobs to be gotten and school placements to be found.

Onward and upward I go.

Support a Social Enterprise While You Sip

2011-01-17T12:53:00.001-08:00

The lovely Melissa over at Smitten By Britain has graciously invited me to be a part of her internet neighborhood and I'll be posting monthly articles on various things around England that make me happy (most likely involving food.)

I'm delighted to share today's post highlighting Cafe des Arts in Hastings. It's worth a trip!

Home

2010-12-21T05:54:00.000-08:00

Oh I know I've been a slacker here. Ahhhh, I'll blame it on the holidays and the 'there's just too much to do' excuse. But regardless of all that, I'm HOME. Back in Illinois home. So thankful to have escaped the UK travel chaos and to be with my family and friends. There will be more soon here, I promise! In the meantime, some snapshots...

Merry Happy!
xo

Scenes from a Snow Day

2010-12-02T08:46:00.000-08:00

I woke up yesterday to this view out my window:

And then I trudged my way here:

Lots of shops had signs like these:

No salt or shoveling! Must buy new boots pronto!

I'm glad I didn't have to be anywhere. Trains weren't running either.

Good thing I like soymilk and gluten free rye bread. The shelves at my Tesco were EMPTY!

Toto, we're not in Chicago anymore.

The In-between

2010-11-22T13:16:00.000-08:00

When I first shared the news with co-workers in Chicago that I was moving to London, I received all kinds of advice. Most of it I took with a grain of salt, some of it I've long since forgotten. But one well traveled colleague shared a nugget that quite frankly bugged me at the time. It made me feel unsettled and strange. I tried to forget it, but it stayed with me and now? Now I'm realizing it was the best thing anyone could have said to me because it is the truth.

I'm not going to be as eloquent as he was here, but it went something along the lines of, "Don't be surprised when after a few months you start to wonder where home is. Coming back to Chicago won't be the same because people will have moved on, and returning to England - well, you'll feel like a stranger there too."

I knew when I made this jump that I was choosing to leave certain things behind. I am lucky in so many ways because my Chicago friendships are genuine and strong. There weren't a lot of messy, frayed ends to run away from. There were lots of "I love yous" but they were the kind that came with fierce hugs of support, not sobbing, grasping declarations. (I gave those up in college).

It doesn't mean, though, that it doesn't feel a little bit funny to be missing out on all their stories - the bad bosses they are enduring, the vacations they are taking, the lovers they are falling into bed with - everyone is moving along on their own grand adventure and I'm no longer a daily stop on their trip. It doesn't mean there isn't still a place for me, it's just a little bit farther away. I'm changing too - new people are making their way into my life and I'm choosing now just how much of myself I want to give to these new creatures. It's exhausting, sometimes - starting from scratch. But these strangers that surround me won't become comforting until I give them a chance.

I looked at my calendar tonight and laughed at the little '25' I have written in pink pen. It's my countdown to the date I fly home for Christmas and I'm so excited I can hardly stand it. I laugh because it wasn't long ago that I was counting down the days to my grand English adventure. I couldn't wait to be here, to wander the markets and wind my way down cobblestone streets. And now I can't wait to be back in Chicago. I crave the crowds of Michigan Avenue, the view of the night skyline and the chance to be familiar again. To be known.

I hope I remember which way to look when I cross the street.

There's no doubt in my mind that once I'm back I'll miss my cosy little flat here in England and the kind man that makes my coffee at the train depot in the morning. He's learned my order - small white Americano, one sugar. Does that mean I belong now? I'll probably have to remind him again in January. And I'll have to remember which way to look when I cross the street. Again.

Maybe that's just what happens when you try to straddle two worlds at the same time. Sometimes the in-between part just hurts.

It's Coming!

2010-11-21T04:01:00.000-08:00

I love that the decorations are up in my neighborhood and the holiday lights are on. The coffeehouses are serving things like gingersnap lattes and yesterday's afternoon walk brought me face to face with loads of real holly bushes in bloom. Soon it will be time to crank up the Christmas music on the iPod (personally, I just can't get enough of Johnny Mathis this time of year).

I promise to write more here, soon. It's been a busy couple of weeks with a school placement and friends visiting from the U.S. I have two big papers to write before I travel home for the holidays, and I'm trying to stay focused!

In the meantime, I will leave you with this cheesy doodle, because I am feeling festive.

xo

Saturday Snapshots, Cheese Sandwiches and a Universe That Laughs (With You, Not At You)

2010-11-07T03:54:00.001-08:00

And, my most favorite one.

I've seen this building go by in a blur from the window of the train I take into London, and I've always wanted to find it, but had no idea where to even begin to look for it. Usually by the time I saw it from the train I had just enough time to look up and recognize it before it disappeared. It frustrated me because I just wanted to take a picture of it.

So last Saturday I treated myself to a trip to Borough Market for lunch (one of these amazing toasted cheese sandwiches) then decided to stroll down a back alley for some quiet. I rounded the corner and BOOM! There it was. OF COURSE. I'd had my nose down, lost in clouds of thought - feeling sort of detached and unsure. And then I looked up. And laughed. A lot.

Thanks universe - for the obvious metahphor. I love it when you play with me. And when you help me get my head out of my a$$.

You're the best.

xo

Dear Online Dating,

2010-11-06T03:15:00.000-07:00

You make me want to eat cookies for breakfast.

I'm both fascinated and horrified by you - often at the same time.

Sometimes talking with people you introduce me to is worse than a job interview. I dread that first phone conversation with "TooCool51". I hate that I know I'm answering your checklist questions. Is the music I listen to "alternative" enough for you? (I tell you that the last two songs I listened to on my iPod were Foo Fighters and Peter Gabriel and you call me a "rock chick." Ummm, no. How 'bout this - you promise not to be so fast to define me, and I'll do the same for you, 'k?)

And please, oh please, could you take the marbles out of your mouth before you call? I feel dumb enough saying "What?" all the time and asking you to spell things because it's reeeeaaaalllllyyyyy hard to understand your accent on a cell phone. I ask if mine is hard for you to understand and you laugh. But it's more of a snicker. Not a nice laugh.

I can hear the sounds the ticks make as we work our way down your mental boxes. "No," I say, "I don't do a lot of mountain biking." Swoosh. That one went in the 'minus' column. I'm probably not sporty enough for you. Shall I tell you I live in my head most of the time? No, because then you'll assume I weigh 500 pounds and sit on my couch all day.

I haven't perfected the art of my soundbites yet. I haven't figured out how to be charming and witty when you text me and ask what I did today. If I'm honest and told you I did laundry and homework and then watched a DVD on my laptop you will think I am boring, and I am not.

Why is it that the gulf that lies between two people not understanding each other is so much wider and more frightening than the open space of being solo? Why does doing this make me want to cry myself to sleep?

And where are the cookies?

Show Me The Funny - Gallery Post

2010-11-03T04:24:00.000-07:00

The delightful Tara over at Sticky Fingers hosts a weekly virtual photofair of sorts, called "The Gallery". Each week Tara shares a 'prompt' - some word, phrase or theme, and then it's up to us to share a photograph (or six!) that we feel represents the idea. It's about having a passion for photography - it's not about having the best, most fancypants camera, or being an expert. And I love that.

I've been lurking over at her site for a while now, and figured it's time to jump in.

This week's theme is, "Show Me The Funny". I had absolutely NO idea what to submit for this one, and thought about blowing it off until next week - until I remembered a silly afternoon back in September when Mom and I visited Canterbury Cathedral. We'd had a full day of sightseeing and our feet were tired, but still we ambled on over to the cathedral to sneak a peek before the sun set. Sadly, we weren't able to go in, as a private concert had just started, but we enjoyed traipsing around the grounds anyway.

Before leaving I attempted to do the old one arm portrait shot - and for whatever reason couldn't seem to get it together enough to capture both the two of us and the cathedral in all its glory behind us. We dissolved into fits of laughter between takes, which just made things worse - and laughed so hard we cried. It felt so good to laugh that way and I want to remember that day, so here it is.

Take 1 - Bug Eyes Jones and Little Head Mom. Nope.

The Sexy "Come Have a Look in My Nostril" View

Getting the Giggles

What the hell happened here? I believe the word is Turtle. 'Nuff said.

Almost there!

Success.

Special thanks to Mom who is now rethinking her encouragement of this blog. You're a good egg (the best one) and I love you.

It's Raining, But.....

2010-10-27T03:43:00.000-07:00

I finally figured out how to work my central heating and have a very cozy flat.

I have the best rapid boil kettle ever, which means I can drink copious cups of sweet fennel tea.

I am the proud owner of a new piece of very cheerful artwork. It may have cost only 7.99 (thanks, Pound Stretcher!) but it is full of vibrant red poppies, and how can you be down when there are red poppies in your living room?

It's the little things. That I am learning.

If The Jingles Are Already Driving Me Nuts, I Guess I Live Here Now (aka The Two Month Report)

2010-10-18T13:51:00.000-07:00

Holy schneikes, I've been here two months already. TWO MONTHS.

It's flown by faster than I could've imagined. And I really wouldn't even have remembered to write this two month roundup if I hadn't gotten irritated by a TV jingle. I was getting ready in the morning, slurping my cup of instant coffee with cinnamon sugar, news on in the background when I heard this commercial. It's just a little tiny snippet of a jingle at the very very end, a chipper and perky person singing, "Auto glass repair, auto glass replace!" but man oh man, that little ditty will crawl up into your cranium and sing to you ALL DAY LONG. I unwittingly whistled along to it as I was getting dressed - and just as fast as as you can say 588 - 2300...EMPIRE!!!!!!* I knew I was officially living here and could no longer call myself a visitor.

So - without further ado, here's a list of the things I'm loving, the things I'm missing, and the things that are STILL a mystery to me. (Maybe my UK blogmates can help me out?)

What I'm Loving
The Tea Breaks
Yes, there is a lot of tea drinking here, and it's delicious. Along with the beverage comes the cultural proclivity to actually take a moment to enjoy it. It's not just about spending lots of money to enjoy platters of pastries at fancy hotels or restaurants, it's more about simply taking a break and having a snack, wherever you are. In class, we break for coffee in the morning, tea in the afternoon. It's even written on our syllabus. Every day at 11:15, and then again at 3pm, we step away from our notebooks, rub our eyes, stretch, and walk down the hall to the vending machines. We all queue patiently together and chat about the weather, or sports or politics. It's brilliant. (Another thing I love - the use of the word brilliant. It's everywhere, it's charming, and I'm addicted already. But I can't say it nearly as well as the natives).

The Chocolate
Ohhhhh my goodness it's good. It's rich and satisfying and creamy and sweet and it hits the spot like no other kind of chocolate can. An English classmate summed it up quite succinctly last week as we all stood around during the aforementioned tea break. Standing there, peering at all of the choices in the vending machine - Cadbury Flake, Cadbury Dairy Milk, Cadbury Buttons, Boost, Twirl, Wispa (you get the idea) , she paused, then thoughtfully turned to me and said, "Yeah, the chocolate where you come from is crap, isn't it." Why yes, yes it is.

The Dairy
Ummmm, yeah. Just like the chocolate, it's rich and satisfying and creamy and sweet and it hits the spot. At home in the states I would NEVER drink a glass of milk. Here? Yep. It's just scrumpdillyumptious. And the yogurt? Perfection. I will never be able to eat a plasticky tub of fat free Yoplait ever again.

The Non Shower Morning Routine
Ok, so I thought not having a shower would suck. And in the beginning, it was definitely hard to get used to. But now? I love the fact that I only have a bathtub, and in order to get clean I HAVE to take a bath every day. What person doesn't love a nice hot soak in the tub? You might think, "Uh, oh, but that takes a while, and what if you're in a hurry?" That's the thing - I'M NOT IN A HURRY ANYMORE. Hallelujah.

What I'm Missing
Yesterday I woke up homesick. I'm not sure why. Maybe because it was a Sunday in autumn, and the weather was nice and everyone was out walking. There were couples and families and kids playing in leaves in parks and it made me so much want to just be sitting at a table eating bacon and eggs with someone I know. There's nothing better than that lazy Sunday morning breakfast out. At home, Sunday was usually the day I would see my parents. It was our day to explore something fun - in summer it'd be the Wisconsin State Fair, in winter it could be a trip to downtown Chicago to stroll Michigan Avenue. More times than not it'd be an afternoon at a bookstore, making jokes and drinking mochas. Strange things float up in my memory too - today I missed shopping at the mall I used to go to when I was in high school. Last week I wanted to be walking down Main Street in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, peering into the antique shops and looking out over the harbor. I never really craved going to these places specifically when I was home - but I realize now, writing this - that some of those places are seasonal markers for me. I've never been in a foreign country long enough to experience (or miss) the changing of a season - am I missing the mall because I'm starting to think about Thanksgiving which leads into Christmas shopping? (Restaurants and Pubs here are already advertising their Christmas Day specials...) Do I remember Lake Geneva because it smelled like autumn to me once? I don't know.

Oh, and the other things I'm missing? Trader Joe's, filter coffee, Mexican food, crab rangoon and the ability to find a good tinted moisturizer. Laura Mercier is gorgeous, but it ain't happening on this budget.

And Last But Not Least......The Things That Are Still a Mystery To Me
Banoffee
I have no idea what this is. I love love love the name, but I cannot for the life of me figure out if it's a specific kind of dessert, or if it's a flavor in and of itself? I think it has something to do with bananas and toffee, and I'm pretty sure I could head over to Tesco tomorrow and buy a big, creamy looking tub of it in the freezer section, but seeing as I'm about to spend who knows how many dark and rainy months on the couch reading textbooks I don't think that's such a hot idea. It sounds decadent and delicious and I do NOT want to discover it for fear of having to buy all new trousers. No no no no no no.

Tea
Ha, yes, I know what tea is. What I'm trying to decipher is when this word is used to mean, "afternoon tea" - as in the scones and jam deal, an actual cup of the hot beverage, OR (and this one is new to me folks....) when it actually means DINNER (or should I say SUPPER?) As in, "My husband got stuck in that terrible traffic jam on the M25, but thankfully I kept his tea warm in the oven and we ate together when he got home at 9pm." Whaaaaaaaaaat? I guess I should be glad I'm not married to a Brit, because if the poor soul ever got caught working late and asked me to keep his tea warm until he got home, he'd find himself a mug of hot water in the microwave and an otherwise empty kitchen.

So that's the list for now. I'm sure there are many more marvelous head scratching moments to come, and I'll look forward to sharing them here.

xo

* A little treat for you Chicagoans out there who are old like me and remember this ad. :)

Just Who the Hell Do I Think I Am, Anyway?

2010-10-16T09:36:00.000-07:00

Ugh.

Last night I submitted my site to the "Expat Blog" directory. As I was filling in my details, and reading through their list of criteria, I started getting nervous. Am I really what would be considered an "expat" blog? I mean, yes, I am an expat - I've just moved four thousand miles away from home and have keys and a bank account in a foreign country. That makes me an expat, right?

But is that how my blog is defined? Ummmm, in a way, I guess it is, but I write about lots of different stuff. I write about salads I love eating, about how hard it is for me to do yoga, heck, even about how hard it is for me to have sex. So just what kind of blog am I exactly?

I read an article earlier today about how to be a better Twitterer. It was one of those "Top Ten Tips" articles - it covered everything from how to insert good "keywords" into your posts, to how to write a succinct bio. Basically, "How to Encapsulate Who You Are in Three Sentences or Less". I'm not going to link to it because I hated that article. I'm not in this game to 'win' followers. I don't want to put ads on this site, I don't want to make money from this blog.

What I do want is to connect with real people. The buzzword in the blogworld is "authenticity". I hate that word too, but I love its meaning. (I'm a mess of contradictions). I prefer the word, "genuine". And I'm working really hard to make my writing here genuine. I'm far from perfect on this front, but am working to change that every day. I came up with the title "Savorie Girl" one autumn afternoon a couple of years ago. I was having tea with my most delicious friend Laura, rolling around thoughts about writing and creativity, and suddenly the name struck me. I chose it because it was a representation of the two things that I love most in life - 1) to savor and 2) to have a sense of joie de vivre. (Get it? )

It doesn't mean my life is perfect. Far from it. I'm as messed up as the next person, and have a list of flaws and challenges a mile long. I hate doing yoga. I flirt with depression on a regular basis. I experience physical pain more days than not and am sometimes very very scared about almost everything. But I don't focus on those things. I choose instead to spend my time appreciating, and yes, I'll say it, being grateful. I don't care if it's cheesy - it feels good to savor the small things. Someone once told me that I was "good at" being cozy. I'll take that as a compliment. Isn't life hard enough without the good stuff? Why NOT take time to be in the moment? To enjoy a delicious meal, to light the expensive candles and use that bottle of twenty dollar bath oil. It does no good just sitting on the shelf.

I almost lost my father when I was 13. He went for a walk one icy, February afternoon and was hit by a car on his way home. A dentist fell asleep at the wheel at 2:00 on a Tuesday and my father was the unlucky one in his path. Everything happened so fast. One minute he was asking me if I wanted anything from Harry's Deli, the next I was sitting in an ambulance, staring at his bloodstains on the road. Thankfully, he came home from the hospital just a couple of days later but I learned an important lesson that winter afternoon. I learned about just how fragile life is and how in an instant, everything can change.

So yeah, I'm not sure what the point of all of this is - maybe it's to say that while I'm here I might be cheesy, I might be corny. It's easy to focus on the hard - we're conditioned by the media (or our upbringing) to be frightened, to worry, to hide. It takes courage to turn all that off and to decide instead to look up at the sunshine. There's a great big, blue sky up there, and it has room for all of us.

xo

Bits and Bobs

2010-10-14T12:49:00.000-07:00

Today was a day of small, quiet things. Bits and bobs and odds and ends.

This morning I made yummy, yummy gluten free pancakes, thanks to a care package from a lovely friend. It's probably been at least 20 years since I've made pancakes, so this was a delightful kitchen adventure. Am I the only one who absolutely DESTROYS the kitchen when cooking pancakes? Maybe that's why I don't make them so often. I'm not so good at the 'clean as you go' technique. I just like to roll up my sleeves and get in there.

I almost set off the fire alarm too. And watched a bit of my houseplant go up in flames. That was fun.

Despite all that, the pancakes were delicious. Sadly, I snapped the picture BEFORE the peanut butter and jam went on. But you can imagine it, can't you? (Thank you Allissa, and Trader Joe's!!)

I ate these while watching the BBC news coverage of the Chilean mine rescue. Waking up today, the first thing I did was check my BlackBerry to make sure that all of the miners made it out alive. It felt like Christmas morning to read the news that everyone was safe. It made me feel grateful and cozy.

After lingering over a second cup of coffee and clearing the wreckage from the countertops, I bundled up and headed out for a walk. I'm trying my damndest not to spend much money these days, so it's always a good thing to head out with a full tummy. I walked down the high street and headed for the Pantiles - a beautiful promenade in the older part of town dating to the 1700's, and named for the tiles which were used to pave the walkway. This part of town is always good for window shopping and people watching - despite the chilly temperatures people were still out and about enjoying salads and glasses of wine at outdoor tables.

I kept walking and made my way to Homebase, the English equivalent of Home Depot. I needed an extension cord, so I ducked in and happily discovered that the floor lamp I coveted several weeks ago had been marked down from 29 pounds to 8 - score!!! It was rather heavy and came in a large box (some assembly required of course), so I decided to take the bus home. While waiting for the 281 I made small talk with a kind elderly man who smiled and was ever the gentleman - offering to help and patting me on the shoulder. It was nice.

Home again, I decided to tackle putting together the floor lamp. (Apparently the teenager in me hasn't changed, and I'll do almost anything to avoid homework. Even homework I like. Because I like my homework now.) What I thought would be a five minute job turned into about half an hour of wrestling with screwdrivers and metal plates but I didn't give up and soon, PRESTO! There was a reading lamp right next to my couch. The amount of energy I used clutching the base of the lamp with my knees while wrenching my neck to attach various pieces made me sweat more than any Pilates DVD ever could, so I gave myself permission to blow off the afternoon's yoga session. Instead, I poured a cup of tea and nestled happily under my new lamp with a blanket and a copy of "Integrative Counseling Skills in Action" (there might've been a couple of M&M's in there too....)

A couple of hours later I lit the candles (it gets dark early these days) and scrounged together a makeshift dinner of leftover rocket (arugula for my American friends) ,tomatoes, onions, tuna, sunflower seeds and cheddar cheese.

It was good, and that was today.

A Sunday in London

2010-10-12T13:39:00.001-07:00

What I'm Loving

2010-10-07T17:39:00.000-07:00

To work in England, one must have something called a National Insurance Number (similar to a Social Security Number in the states). It's a process to get one, and since I have not yet received mine (more paperwork!) I'm still unemployed. I have plenty of reading to do for grad school which started about three weeks ago - but thankfully I'm not yet in the thick of things. So far the homework has been manageable, and my first real piece of writing isn't due for another month or so.

So really, I have a lot of time on my hands right now (which feels unbelievably weird, I have to say). I try to make a point of getting out of my flat for long walks as often as I can - some days the weather cooperates more than others. I haven't had room to think, let alone breathe, for about the last five years, so to have this unstructured time right now feels downright decadent. It's definitely a tradeoff - not working means my budget is tight with a capital T, but I'm doing my best not to fret about that. I'm reading books in cafes, (oh how I used to fantasize about that when stuck at an office desk!), getting back into yoga, cooking real meals and not setting an alarm to wake up. Random side note? I wake up at 8:20am ON THE DOT almost every day. What the hell is it about 8:20? Not 8:16, Not 8:32, but 8:20. Very strange. .

I love that the culture here is just a little bit later. Morning rush hour goes well past 9am, and lunchtime doesn't really even start until at least 1pm. People tend to go out for dinner between 7:30 - 10, and going to bed anytime before midnight is early. That being said - I have had to adjust to most every business in my town (other than the restaurants and pubs) closing down by 5 or 6pm. And I mean EVERY business. There are no bookstore cafes that stay open late, there are no Target equivalents - which means if I've let my toilet paper stash run dangerously low, I'd better get my bum over to Tesco before it closes at 8pm. (Yep - even the grocery store shuts early too). I found this pretty frustrating early on - but now that I'm used to it, I can appreciate the natural 'winding down-ness' that comes with the quiet streets. It's especially peaceful on Sundays - when most stores are closed, and the ones that aren't are legally only allowed to operate for six hours, tops. Yes - that means my grocery store closes at 4pm!

I love that I haven't missed having a car even once. I can get anywhere I need to by train or bus - the schedules are very convenient and trains run on time (buses not as much, but there are so many options to take, it's hard to feel put out, Plus, you can get a lot of good reading in at the bus stop!) I love that it really is a walking culture. People do their errands here on foot. How often have any of you gone grocery shopping and NOT had a car with you? Before this trip, I can't even remember when. There aren't as many preservatives used in the food here, so it makes more sense to not buy a lot at one time. And since I have a green grocer's just around the corner where I can buy locally grown fruits and veggies, I'm really all set. (As long as I can remember to get there before 5pm).

There are a lot of things I miss, yes. Mostly all of my people. If I could magically transport everyone I love here, I would be such a happy camper. Oh, and I miss Dairy Queen blizzards too - a LOT. But I won't focus on that, and will instead use this time to explore all of the new flavors that are here waiting for me. Mince pie ice cream anyone?

xo

Being Brave

2010-10-03T12:19:00.000-07:00

Oh crikey. I've not been around these parts much lately because honestly, I'm struggling right now. It's hard for me to say that out loud - I hate to sound whiny - but really, it's time for me to share some things. It wouldn't be a blog if I wasn't being totally, embarrassingly transparent now, would it? So I'm gonna go for it.

I have a tendency to do things in my life intuitively. I feel my way through decisions - some of them coming to me easier than others - but really, I make up a lot of my life as I go along. Moving to England has always been a dream of mine, and when I decided to really do it - I didn't spend a lot of time actually THINKING about it, I just started putting the plan into action. My heart told me I was heading in the right direction, even if I couldn't quite make out the picture that was in front of me. "You're so lucky!" was the refrain I heard from friends and co-workers, over and over. "What I wouldn't give to be able to just walk away and do something like that!" I heard that sentence a lot too.

One could say I'm lucky, sure. At this point in my life, I don't have children to take care of, or a mortgage payment to worry about. I've worked very hard to pay off my debts and I try to live as simply as I can so I can afford to do things like travel to foreign countries where the exchange rate isn't exactly in my favor. I'm self-sufficient and enjoy spending time on my own. And I've just picked up and moved to a foreign country where everything is refreshingly different and textured and bursting at the seams with newness. And holy hell, I am having a hard time.

I realize now that although my life in the states was too chaotic - too much work, too much stress, too much commute, too much stimulation - there was also an abundance of connection. Family and friends and shared histories and laughter and all the good stuff that comes from having roots. All the things that filled me up and made it OK to be single. I didn't need to be partnered because all of my emotional needs were being met and I'd been ignoring the physical side for so long I'd even forgotten it existed. (It was easier that way). And besides, I was busy.

But now I'm not so busy, and all the stuff I shoved way down deep is making its way to the surface and its getting in my way. It's not pretty to talk about, but I don't know how else to do it, so I will share it here.

The last time sex felt good for me was in 1999.

It was a cold November night, about five months into my new marriage. (Had I known that night on the couch watching Letterman eleven years ago was going to be it, I would've worn a better bra). Shortly thereafter, I had my annual OB GYN checkup, where I ended up being misdiagnosed and treated for a condition I didn't have. The medication threw me into a spiral of sorts - one that didn't settle down for over a year, and what ultimately led to my being told I have an "incurable" pelvic floor dysfunction - one that I'll compare to a broken light switch. My nerves and cells are 100% healthy, but are somehow caught in the PAIN ON position. And by pain, I mean PAIN. Unbearable, stabbing, vicious pain. Gulping for air kind of pain. For something as delicious as making love to change to something this awful and frightening so fast really, REALLY sucked.

I'm not going to talk here now about how this ultimately affected my marriage - this was not the cause of its demise - but it certainly complicated things and made both of us very very sad and very very angry. Looking back now, I can be grateful for this too, as it protected us from having children together. But all of that's for another post. For now, I'll simply say that I don't know how I'm going to do this, but I have to heal. I've spent too much time holding men at arms length. I've wondered aloud why I'm not dating, but deep down I know the vibes I'm putting out there aren't the easiest to maneuver through. It's a confusing feeling - I want so much to reach out, to connect, to touch- to simply go on a DATE, but just what exactly are the truth in advertising rules? I mean really - at what point in the evening do you say, "Look, as much as I'd like for it to happen, you may not get past third base. Ever. I'm broken, but really, I'm worth it. Will you stay and figure it out with me?" Do I say this to him after the salad but before the steak? Or do I wait until the fifth date, when we're fumbling in the dark with our clothes? I waited that long once. And he got angry and left.

So yes, I'm lucky to be here, to have time in England, to figure this out. But damn if I wouldn't be lucky to have the challenges of children and a mortgage too. I watch couples walk down the street and I ache for the simple touches that only two people in love share. This experience is shifting my focus. It's time now for me to bring forward what has been pulled back for so long. We'll see.

xo

A Saturday in London

2010-09-25T13:19:00.000-07:00

The Telly

2010-09-24T13:43:00.000-07:00

The weather is cool and rainy, and I've caught a bit of a flu bug. I feel lucky that I don't have to worry about calling in sick to work (one of the advantages of not having a job yet) and being planted on the couch under the blankets has given me a chance to experience the full range of British television. And what a range it is.

Feeling sentimental for the soaps of the 80's? Falcon Crest is on every day at 9am. How about a good episode of Magnum P.I.? Yep - you can find that too - that's on at 10am. There are the traditional daytime chat fests with peppy hosts and cooking demonstrations and Jerry Springerlike slingfests, but Globe Trekker comes on every day at noon, which balances it out. (I miss my Travel Channel and PBS, so this comforts me). Certain channels offer "+ 1"s which I don't really understand yet, but I know that this means I can watch Barefoot Contessa at 9am on Food Network - and if I miss the end, it will air again on Food Network + 1 an hour later. Sort of like having a constant case of deja vu.

My favorite discoveries - I stumbled upon a rerun of Stephen Fry's "In America." A beautifully done documentary on his journey across the 50 states. It made me homesick in the best way, and I won't lie - I'm plastered to every episode of the reality series, "UK Border Force". (I am AMAZED at what people do to get around immigration rules. Getting my visa was no picnic, but I wouldn't ever dream of going around the system. You don't mess with the UK Border Control.)

I learned when I first arrived about the TV licensing tax that everyone who watches television in this country has to pay (a pricey 140 pounds which is a challenge for the student budget) but it funds the BBC, and I've seen some excellent documentaries on their channels. Most recently, this one .

Channel 4 is recognized for their reality series - and I'd say they take the cake. For a country known for its reserve, would you ever imagine seeing a closeup of one man's hemorrhoids or listening to a woman talk about her inability to leave the house because her diarrhea is so bad? It's a juicy, juicy show (pun intended) called Embarrassing Bodies and I have NEVER, EVER seen anything like it. Mostly because the topics aren't just discussed in interviews - the cameras go where I'd imagine no cameras have ever been before in prime time. I'll spare you the description of tonight's fungal toenails and lice infestation.

Channel 4 also introduced a new interactive documentary series this week called "Seven Days" . The inagural installment focuses on a group of people living in Notting Hill, and follows them about in daily life. The twist is that viewers can weigh in on challenges this group is facing and provide real-time advice via something called "ChatNav". It's an intriguing idea, and one that I think we'll see more of as our electronic worlds collide, but I have to say I didn't find the first episode all that enthralling. I'd compare it to being out for dinner and eavesdropping on a slightly interesting conversation at the neighboring table. You might wonder for a minute what happened when the man in the suit yelled at the dry cleaner for losing his best Ralph Lauren oxford shirt, but would you care enough to email him on how he could've perhaps handled that differently? Nah.

So there ya go. I'm ready now to be better and off the couch. It's Friday night - which makes tomorrow "Get Out of the Flat and Explore London" day, and for that I am really happy.

xo

One Month

2010-09-14T07:57:00.000-07:00

Today marks one month on English soil. In some ways it feels like a year, others, a week. I've been waiting for the muse to come down off her high horse and anoint me with the desire to stick my butt in a chair and write. Bless her, but I don't think she's showing up today. So in the meantime, here are some of the things I've learned so far on this grand adventure:

New words. Words like "dongle" and "bespoke". No, a dongle isn't dirty, and it isn't something that hangs off your body - although it does sort of sound like that. It's a little stick you put into your computer that basically allows you to get internet access wherever you are. If something is "bespoke", it's custom made.

I've learned to ask for things "to takeaway" instead of "to-go". (I've also learned that it's an easy way to save some pence - as VAT tax gets automatically added to anything you decide to enjoy IN a cafe or restaurant - whether it's a cup of coffee or a sandwich. ) In coffeehouses baristas add the milk for you - if you take cream in your coffee you order it 'white' - and hope that whoever is serving you pours the right amount in. I may be laid back about most things in life, but I am a stickler for the right cream to coffee ratio. This may very well be why I'm still single.

Pajamas is spelled pyjamas, and politeness is everywhere. Especially in the town where I live (before 9pm at least - but more on that later). Bus culture is especially fascinating - there really is an invisible queue (line). Should you arrive at a bus stop the moment a bus is pulling up to the stop - you'd best ensure that you allow everyone who's been waiting there before you to board in front of you, regardless of if the bus literally stops right in front of your feet. This is one of the loudest unspoken rules there is. It's quite delightful once you get the hang of it. I am amazed, too, at the number of people who both greet, and thank, the driver when getting on and off.

"Cheers!" is a common phrase - I hear it at least five times a day - and not just when leaving a pub, or giving a toast. It's used almost universally as a 'thank you' - a way of closing a conversation cheerfully - after you've given someone the time, or finishing a transaction at a store. I love it. Terms of endearment such as "love" or "darling" are also used universally by total strangers. It's especially nice when one is feeling particularly homesick in the check out line at the grocery store.

It's far easier to be gluten free here. Vegetarian, too. Items are clearly marked on menus, and one Italian restaurant here even offers a completely gluten free menu. I am really enjoying this, and physically feel better than I have in years. Granted, I'm also getting more sleep, fresh air and exercise, so that helps too. But intuitively, the food just feels fresher. More real. I've stumbled onto some delightful markets - anyone who says that Britain doesn't have a food culture hasn't been here or here.

The difference between silly fear and real fear. The lovely Jackie wrote a wonderful post on fear. One of my favorite parts:

"This is another reminder of why it’s so important to do what scares you. Facing your fear takes you from the thousand uncertain worries to one certain outcome. Fear exists only in our imagination. Good or bad, the outcome is REAL and not just festering in your imagination."

Ummmm, yeah. I knew that coming here would freak me out. And that it would be hard. And yes, for the first couple of weeks things were very surreal. My mind was heavy with melancholy. I was worried about fitting in and my hormones were all over the place (why did THAT happen?) I was shy when speaking with my American accent and wondered when it would be easier. I spent a lot of days fighting with tv cables and my washing machine door and trying to figure out how to hang blinds. (Having a real screwdriver helps). Then on the third night in my new flat, I found myself calling the police and feeling real honest-to-goodness fear.

It was well after midnight on a Thursday and suddenly there was screaming and door slamming and banging and I didn't know what was happening. Whatever it was was taking place right outside my door, and I thought for a moment that things would come crashing through my wall and I would be faced with the violence that sounded frantic and primal. My feet became rooted and my eyes got wide. My mother was still with me on her vacation at this point, and I remember mouthing to her, "What do I do?" Everything was in slow motion, but I managed to dial 999 and within minutes, the police arrived and things soon became calmer. It ended up being a lovers quarrel (alcohol fueled) and I ended up learning a LOT more about my neighbors than I wanted to. But it also changed my perspective - my earlier worries evaporated into thin air, and I realized that I was wasting a lot of energy on superficial things that simply couldn't hurt me. Real fear feels different - and when I was faced with it, I was able to make the choice I needed to to protect myself. So I decided to lighten up a bit. And damn if it doesn't feel better.

Still Alive and Kicking in Grey Skied Britain

2010-08-26T16:46:00.000-07:00

Ahhhhh, what a busy week! Soon I will sit down to write a proper post. This week has been full. So much to do to set up
house. Calls to utilities, trips to hardware stores for paint, shopping for groceries, figuring out what kind of tools to buy to put together the furniture, buying the wrong kinds of tools and then going back, blowing electronics (never ever ever plug in a set of speakers through a voltage adapter - just not a good idea!) and in between all of those things, finding time for trips to the pub. I've fallen in love with cider, and also the general politeness that resides here. It's a different world and there are so many subtleties to adjust to. I'm learning how not to be embarrassed when speaking (there are some kind people who actually say they love the accent, to which I want to say, "No, I love YOURS!") and also learning that a cuppa really does solve most things. There are happy days, and frustrating days, and rainbows of feelings in between. My world feels hung in the air - I've not yet settled, but gradually, I'm finding my place.

xo

It Wouldn't Be Grad School if There Wasn't a Futon Involved

2010-08-16T15:32:00.000-07:00

Holey moley. There's been so much change in my life over the past three weeks I don't even know where to begin. "Begin from where you are" is the phrase that reverberates in my mind. I remember seeing the word "Begin" tattooed on the Australian musician who sat next to my mother on the plane to New York last week. Seeing it there made me like him.

So I'm here. In England. I'm happy. I'm sad. I feel mixed up and jumbled - sort of like I've spent the last week tossing around in a washing machine and I no longer know which way is up. I'm navigating a world that is both strange and ultimately familiar - and I'm learning that understanding how to LIVE in a place is much, much different than being on vacation. (Or shall I say, 'holiday' now?) :) I knew it would be like this in the beginning, and I'm learning how to be patient. There is no routine yet, and that is part of the challenge. But as of this writing, I am thrilled to say that I have managed to do the following:

*Arrive here after six days on a big ship, NOT having thrown up or fallen down
*Have only ONE panic attack along the lines of, "What on earth have I done?" (this was immediately after seeing the latest exchange rate whiz by on the bottom of the screen on BBC News).
*Pick up my UK debit card, checkbook and credit card (the month on the phone with HSBC before leaving really paid off!)
*Find a flat that is tiny, but happy feeling with good light. It needs a good scrubbing and coat of paint and of course it's on the top floor and has the requisite steep and narrow stairway, but this is one of the charming things that makes England England, and how else am I going to lose those ten pounds?
*Buy this bed that's really a futon, but looks like a bed. It's a single, so it won't take up much space, and as Mom puts it, "You can buy the second one to make it a Kingsize when you meet the guy." Ok Universe, you heard it here first.

Since the part of my brain that usually assists with the writing is off in another building figuring out how I'm going to afford the flat I found today, I'll wrap this up for now.

Until later, xo

Departure

2010-08-07T20:10:00.000-07:00

It's been a whirlwind two days of finalizing details, moving furniture, and tying up loose ends. And all of a sudden it's here - the night before departure.

See you soon lovelies.

xo

My Soundtrack This Week

2010-08-04T13:46:00.000-07:00

Ok. Packing is coming along - things are getting empty and echoey and I've determined that my Bose computer speakers will be the absolute LAST thing to be put away. I wouldn't be surviving these last few days without my music. So because I'm taking a moment to procrastinate, I will take a few moments to share with you dear readers (all two or three of you!) the songs that are keeping me company. These are some of the gems I just don't get sick of. I'll add here, too, that I am not a music snob. If it makes me feel good, I crank it!

For when I need a kick in the pants and have to get it in gear (those kitchen cupboards aren't going to clean themselves):

Sweet Disposition - The Temper Trap
Forever - Chris Brown
Wanna Be Startin' Something - Michael Jackson (yeah, I wanna be startin' that next box-o-stuff...)
City of Blinding Lights - U2
A Perfect Way - Scritti Politti
On Broadway - George Benson

For when I'm a bit melancholy (And thinking about the people I will miss so much):

Always - Plumb
Human Nature - Michael Jackson
Crush - Natalie Walker
Mad World - Alex Parks
World Spins Madly On - The Weepies
Metamorphosis - Shane Cannedy
What I Wouldn't Give - Holly Brook
If You Were Here - The Thompson Twins (My all time favorite angsty song. Big sigh. What girl my age doesn't think of Jake showing up in the red Porsche to pick up Molly Ringwald listening to this? Oh the sweet, sweet agony. I love it.)

For when I'm flat out excited (Is this really happening? Am I really doing this?):

Lucky Man - The Verve
Merry Happy - Kate Nash
Shine On - The Kooks
Untouched - The Veronicas
Something to Talk About - Badly Drawn Boy

What are the songs you never get sick of? Which ones get you through the rough spots? Or get you up off your booty?

Knickers in a Twist

2010-08-02T12:38:00.000-07:00

So I'm down to less than a week before departure. And I won't lie - my knickers are in a twist and I'm wound tighter than a top. My temper is short, my patience is thin, I don't even want to hang around me right now. So many kind people in my life are offering to help, and saying things like, "What do you have to do? Just throw your stuff in a box and go." I want to be that girl, I really do, but I can't. The reality is that the throwing stuff in a box is the easy part. The rest of the day goes something like this:

Wake up tangled and sweaty in the couch afghan I slept under (my bedspread is already packed at the bottom of my very big suitcase.)

Get the car packed for another trip to Goodwill. Realize I forgot about an entire bathroom closet and add more stuff to the pile.

Get an email from the gentleman assisting me in opening up my UK bank account telling me that the passport copy I submitted three weeks ago isn't certified. Email and call him to see what he means by "certified" so I can get it done. He's not there so I leave a message.

Wait about half an hour then can't stand it anymore and drive to my current bank to get copies notarized in case that's what he meant.

Get a call from my lovely landlord while I'm driving to the bank telling me that a handyman will be coming by my house shortly. She says not to worry as she can let him in if I'm out. I realize that I did laundry yesterday and have various intimate things hanging all 'round my house to dry and turn around after the bank to rush home and put them away.

After putting away all my bras and scanning my newly certified passport to the bank dude, I finally head out for Goodwill. The drive is about 20 minutes and I use this time to chill my brain out. I even turn off the radio.

I get stuck in a traffic jam (why is every single suburban road getting resurfaced right now?)and realize that I forgot to deposit my last work paycheck at the bank this morning while getting my passport notarized. Pfffffffft. I make a note to stop there before heading home.

After Goodwill, my stomach is rumbling so I make a stop at one of my old haunts from the married days. Chicken tacos with avocado, sour cream and salsa. They are delicious, the waitress is kind, and I take my time.

I get in my car to head back to the bank and get caught in more construction. But this time things are moving faster. Or maybe it's the full belly. (Funny how that works). I make it to the bank, the train station to drop off my stacks of old magazines, and then wind my way to the car wash to prep my car for this afternoon's appraisal. But the car wash is closed (Whaaaa? It's a sunny day!) so I make a stop at home to clean out my trunk before finding a new one.

I check the mail, and find an unmarked envelope. Thinking it might be a new credit card, I rip it open only to see that it's a bill from a collection agency, sent from a hospital that I've called half a dozen times to get this particular issue sorted out. (I believe the last note in my account read, "Account on hold. Do NOT send to Collections.")

I toy with the idea of having a full out temper tantrum, or a nervous breakdown, but decide instead to calmly call to get things sorted. (For the umpteenth time). At this point, half of my paperwork is boxed, while half lies in random piles. I wonder which pile to check first.

I flip through stacks of manila folders (why are my writing samples next to my dental EOBs?) until I find my notes and spend the next forty five minutes on the phone with Blue Cross Blue Shield and a Chicago hospital billing department. Each department points to the other until I'm dizzy from the circles and I say "STOP!!! This needs to be resolved today. Please."

I get transferred to someone else. She says she can't help me, but she will transfer me to someone else again. She accidentally disconnects the call. The kind Bernice at Blue Cross calls me back and we start over. I'm back to square one. They will resubmit the claim for the third time. "You can call back to check on the status in 30 days." Oh, good. That will be easy from England.

I put the phone down and debate driving myself to DairyQueen to inhale a truckload size Reese's Blizzard. I decide instead to blast the extreme metal version of Shakespeare's Sister, "Stay". Which sort of works, actually.

So in the meantime? It's back to it. Oh, and I'll be sure to pick up my sense of humor and a side of a little perspective while I'm out.

;)

The Scattered and Random Thought Post

2010-07-31T07:50:00.000-07:00

One week down, one to go. I'm feeling scattered, so this will be one of those random posts of thoughts. Here's where I'm at:

*Normally a champion sleeper, this week I struggled to sleep 6 hours a night (and I need 8-9 to feel good. 10 is optimum). Falling asleep isn't the problem, it's the waking up to a racing mind that's the challenge. Taking deep breaths and just going with it. As mom tells me, "No one died from lack of sleep." (I may Google this later on just to double check).

*I've sprouted a spot on my face (that's UK speak for pimple) that's the size of a small planet. I'm considering coloring it in with eyeliner and making it my 'beauty mark'. I'm about to start life in a new country with lots of people I haven't met yet, so if I do go this route, I'm going to have to commit to keeping up the charade for a long, long time. May rethink this one.

*I'm saying goodbye to lots of people. I'm a swimming pool full of feelings and my overall gratefulness and general lack of embarassment is leading me to write some very sappy cards. This may or may not be getting me in trouble, but at this point I can't care. If I've learned anything in this life so far, it's that you hang on to the people you love, and you tell them you love them, a LOT.

*My father has graciously loaned me his Mac laptop to use on my adventure. (My trusty Dell has seen me through a lot, but we're going on six years together, and it's time for us both to have some new experiences). I've fallen in love with the Mac already, but DAMN if there's not a lot to figure out in regards to transferring files, iTunes, yadda yadda yadda. I am not very techie so what might take a regular person half an hour will expand to about eight for me. This is an example of the kind of thing that you think will get done easily, but will actually expand to fill days on end. Sort of like all the junk drawers I'm discovering. I'm getting to the point now where I'm just chucking things in the garbage. And giving 'em to Goodwill. There's a lot of good stuff going to Goodwill. Wedding china anyone?

*The dreams! Aaaaaaaaaackkkk! (Ok, I know how boring it is to listen to other people talk about their dreams, yes. Go on to the next bullet point if you must). I am having some CRAZY dreams. Most of them are involving bodies of water and I'm either being asked to swim out to piers, or being taken to islands, or I'm watching cars driving off the ends of piers at midnight - those sorts of images. Not a lot of fun. Thanks, subconscious. Ready to move on to the lighter side now!

*In the midst of all this, I had a birthday. I didn't have brain space for it this year. It's funny - I've never been a big birthday celebrater anyway (I think it's a good idea to try and enjoy every day, as you never know when the big bad proverbial bus is going to mow you down.) But this year, I pretty much blew it off. My kind friends didn't let me forget about the day completely, and we had a lovely night out here that included lots of dancing and the most delicious gluten free cupcakes I've ever eaten.

*I'm looking forward to getting excited. Right now is all about Getting Shit Done. Soon there will be time for anticipation and that makes me happy. It took a good three days for me to come down off the ceiling after leaving my job. I'm trying to use the forward momentum to good use on the packing, but once that's done, and I'm on my way I'll have a LOT more empty space. It's going to feel weird for sure. But I'm looking forward to the weird.

Oingo Boingo Was Right

2010-07-26T18:46:00.001-07:00

It's just another day.

Monday, to be exact. But boy did this Monday feel strange. It's the first one in a long, long, long, long, time that I didn't have to get up and go sit in an office somewhere. Surprisingly, I woke up before the alarm. It was wayyy too early, but I got up anyway. I've reached the part of the program where my mind is racing a million miles an hour so staying in bed was a moot point. I decided to get up and go for a walk into town for coffee. It was a nice walk, but it wasn't the regular commute. Believe it or not, I missed this:

Awww man. That early morning rush hour crowd flowing off the trains was such a rush. I'd crank up a tune on the iPod and GO. I always wondered what would happen if I tripped and fell. Knowing me I'd accidentally fling my arms out in front of me and end up taking down a very well dressed attorney and his Tumi bag. That wouldn't be pretty AND he'd probably sue me. But I digress.

(Can you tell I'm at loose ends? Even my writing doesn't know which direction to go. Cripes).

So, yeah. I went for a walk, got my coffee, settled back in at home and delved into a good hour and a half of paperwork. Note to anyone out there even remotely interested in moving to a different country - only if you are absolutely IN LOVE with filling out forms and making copies of forms should you go. Seriously. There is a hell of a lot of stuff to fill out when moving continents.

After managing to set up my new online bank accounts (yay HSBC! You rock!) I met Mom for lunch. We sat outside and ate spring rolls and pad thai and I shared with her all the bittersweet stories from my last few days at work. We talked about love, we cried a bit and then I went and tried on black flats at DSW. That's sort of how it goes these days. Big emotional waves, some tears, then a bunch of errands. Hey man at Walgreens, I'm not crying because I can't find the face wash, I'm crying because I'm feeling rather vulnerable right now and really, I'm going to miss Walgreens, and Target, and just how easy it is to do everything here. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Bittersweet

2010-07-17T18:19:00.001-07:00

My landlords have found someone to rent my little coach house next month.

Sigh.

I knew this day would come, but still - it's bittersweet news. I'm elated they found someone who will be kind and treat the place well, but for some reason it makes me sad, too. I've called this sweet little space home for the past five years and I don't quite yet know how to leave it. It's where I found softness and sanctuary from the sharp edges of my crumbling marriage. It's where I discovered peace. Where I discovered joy.

Part of me thought I might end up here for the rest of my life, and that idea never bothered me one bit. It's the kind of place where I always thought I'd end up. The downtown village is within walking distance and full of charming little shops, cafes, movie theatres and restaurants. It's a four minute drive to get to the train station that'll take you right to Chicago, and it's less than a half hour stroll to Lake Michigan. I remember saying to my mother as we carted boxes of books up the stairs, "How will I ever find anything quite like this? How will I ever be able to leave?" She, ever the wise one, said, "When it's time to move on to the next thing, you'll know."

So here I am getting ready for the next thing. But still not quite ready to say goodbye to the old one. I will be ready. Tonight, though, I'll be thankful that I got a chance to live here.

P.S. If you got this far, I'm also tagging this one "PMS". Man, I'm maudlin! Damn hormones.

Swimming

2010-07-12T21:07:00.000-07:00

I knew this would happen. Less than a month to departure, and my head is swimming with details. As much as I tried to stay ahead of the curve - to streamline, organize, pack and file ahead of time - there are still a myriad of things to do before I leave for England. Many of the items left on my list are simply things that I can't do early (like cancel the cable...sorry but there's just NO way I'm giving up my HGTV just yet - a girl needs her down time!) Other big to-do's:

1) Figure out some way to open a UK bank account
Ideally, I'll get this done ahead of time. Or at the very least get all my ducks in a row so it doesn't take a lifetime to do once I arrive. If I can accomplish this one thing, I will be a very very happy camper. Who knew that it was such a complex (and expensive!) process? You can't get a flat without a UK bank account, and you can't get a UK bank account without a UK address. *Scratches head.*

2) Deal with the car
Oh, if only I could go back to January when my biggest worry was figuring out how to plow through the snow to get to work on time. For some reason I thought that leasing a car was a fabulous idea, as I saw myself firmly ensconced in Chicagoland, with this whole moving to the UK idea stored way up on the "Really??" shelf. Ooops! My bad.

3) Research cell phone plans (or should I say "mobile" now?)
It's a whole different ball of wax on the other side of the Atlantic , and I'll need to figure out which extras I want to splurge on, and which ones to leave well enough alone. Do I get ten bonus points for figuring out how to Skype my parents this weekend? I think so. :)

4) Figure out how to get together with all of the lovely people in my life. (Without feeling stressed or squeezed or rushed or distracted).
It feels as though every waking moment of my life is being spent planning or researching or just THINKING (way too much) about EVERYTHING. Work needs to be tied up. Dresses need to be drycleaned. Powers of Attorney need to be filed and oh yeah - I need to defrost the freezer and get the carpets cleaned, and hey, have I heard back on my scholarship submission yet? Did I set up that last bill for online payment? Yikes - I'm not sure if I have any overdue fines at the library and dear lord when is the last time I vacuumed under the bed? And the curtains - they need to be washed and ironed for the next tenants and CRIKEY how am I going to fit everything I need for an entire year on the other side of the world in just ONE SUITCASE and one carry on bag? Do I have the right luggage? And oh yeah, I don't have black flats anymore - I need to buy a pair of those. And my prescription - I need to make sure I don't forget to get that refilled. Am I bringing my bike over? No, probably not. So where will I store it? And how will I get it there? And just when, exactly, is the right time to shut off the internet because I NEED IT ALL THE TIME.

So yeah. My head hurts.

Yesterday

2010-07-07T21:30:00.000-07:00

I got my visa yesterday.

It's a shiny looking thing - stamped in the back of my passport with a little sentence on top that reads, "UK Entry Clearance". I won't lie - I peeked at that page a couple of times over the course of the afternoon just to make sure it was still there. The rational part of my brain knew it wasn't exactly going to pick up and walk off the page, but there was a very small, very irrational part of me afraid that it was a mirage. I didn't want it to disappear as I peered closer.

It's funny, isn't it? How life comes down to moments. Little snatches of time that on their own are nondescript, beige and still. I arrived at the British Consulate early for my 9:30am appointment. The security guard cheerfully took my name, and minutes later I was in an elevator, on my way up. I walked in and noticed that the room was small. There was a bank of windows, almost like a post office or a train station ticketing booth. A woman motioned for me to step forward, and I slid my stack of documents under the window. She briefly shuffled through the papers, glanced at my passport photos and typed some things into the computer she sat in front of. "Right - there are just some things I need to check on my system in the back, could you please take a seat?"

The chairs were blue and sat in rows of seven. I chose the middle seat in the third row and attempted to look normal. I stared straight ahead and noticed how silent it was. The clock on the wall facing me said 9:32. I heard the second hand ticking and felt the coolness of the air conditioning. Sunshine came through the windows and I peered out at the skyscrapers surrounding me. It was a gorgeous, hot, day.

An older British man filling out paperwork sat at the front of the room. We made small talk then returned to silence. I wondered if he could hear my heartbeat. I wanted to laugh out loud. All the work - the nights spent untangling the border agency website, waiting for my UK background check to clear, for the school to send the unconditional offer letter - all the reading of expat forums and nightmare visa stories, the last minute scrambling for bank statements and passport photo retakes came down to this small moment and a woman with brown hair who had most of my life history in a back room cubicle.

She returned a couple of minutes later and called me to the window. "Everything looks in order. It will be ready after 3:00 today for you to pick up." I thanked her, smiled to myself, and walked out into the hallway.

It's real now. Holy shit.

I Left My Heart in Borough Market

2010-07-01T21:53:00.000-07:00

The lovely Melissa at Smitten By Britain, has graciously invited me over to her pad for a guest post. You can read all about my love of London's Borough Market (and why it makes me cry) here.

Those of you that share my affection for all things British will enjoy wandering her site as there are plenty of places to soak up the ambiance. Pour yourself a cuppa and enjoy.

Cheers!

Finally! This Cat Has Been Trying to Crawl Out of the Bag for a While Now

2010-07-01T21:38:00.001-07:00

I am not good at keeping secrets.

Those that know me in real life will tell you I'm an open book. People read my moods by simply glancing in my direction (I really hate that). Ask me most anything, and I'll happily tell you. Of course that means there will be occasional "TMI" moments along the road of our friendship, but that's just one of the hazards. I would just rather share too much than too little.

Needless to say it's been KILLING me not to talk about the fact that I AM MOVING TO ENGLAND NEXT MONTH. I am thrilled, scared, excited, terrified and really just ready to get on with it. There are plenty of things left on the list to accomplish before I actually set foot in Blighty (getting my visa being number one on that list), but that's in process so really all there is to do now is wait for the (good) news. I will be going to graduate school, so the process is fairly cut and dry, but there are lots of boxes to tick. And pack. And move.

I told the job earlier this week, so it's been a whirlwind couple of days at the office. There's still plenty to be done there, and if anything, I seem to be more engaged now that I've set an end date (why does that happen?)

Anyway. It's late and the bed is calling. More details to come for sure.

xo

Loose Threads, Doodles, and Whiplash*

2010-06-22T22:04:00.000-07:00

Aw crap. I've lost track of the 21.5.800 project this week. I let the thread get loose and had one too many days in a row of excuses. There are plenty of these little cop outs - the day job and three hour a day commute being the most convenient (but I let those get in the way wayyyy too much). I could say that I'm at the point where all of this is really getting hard. Or that hormones simply got the best of me and wrestled me to the couch - cookies and peanut butter in hand.

Writing flowed easy that first week - there were plenty of ideas spinning in my head and coming out on little scraps of paper. All the longhand writing I did on the train back and forth to the city bubbled up easily and I loved the stolen moments. Discovering this website made the start of the second week fun (all that longhand writing was getting to be a bit of a drag), Savasana chilled me out and I was breathing and doing things differently. Sigh.

And then the work kicked in. The project came as a surprise - a "deliverable" handed down with the countdown clock already ticking. Two back to back fourteen hour days in a foreign world of gray spreadsheets, charts, percentages and databases is NOT my favorite place to hang. Gray spaces and thin lines made my eyes sting. I felt chewed up and spit out.

So I stopped. Everything. I fell into bed early on Friday and opened my eyes ten hours later to a sunny Saturday. The view from my bed is of tall old trees and wide sky and I could see that the day looked bright and clean and warm. I wanted to be out in it but I felt flattened, empty. I closed my eyes again and slept deeply until I was full. The rest of the day was low key and made up of quiet details like laundry and errands and dinner with family. I felt suspended and good. But the yoga and writing got far away.

This isn't a new thing for me. Before I discovered my HSPness I made a habit of biting off more than I could chew on a regular basis and saying yes to everything, everyone. It's amazing I didn't get whiplash from all the nodding. I filled in every single white space in my planner. It was easier to say yes, and if everyone else could keep this pace, why couldn't I? (Looking back now I think I really just wanted an excuse to play with different markers in my diary. My love of technicolor lettering was killing my life. Thankfully, I got over all that and figured out that I'm just wired differently - what works for you just may not work for me and that is A-OK. I need downtime like oxygen and when I don't get it I stop. And apparently I also need time for doodling.)

It's a new week now and I am winding my way back. Writing this post tonight is difficult. I'm well aware of its many flaws and only just knocking at the door of 600 words. Roger Ebert mentioned something earlier this week about the muse showing up only after one starts to write. I'm still waiting for it. But I've been stood up before and really, it's not so bad. If this whole 21.5.800 thing is about learning how to do it differently then I'm going to give it my best shot. Fuck the cliches, mixed metaphors and whatever else I didn't do perfectly in my writing tonight. I'm going to go for progress here, not perfection. (Hey! Cliche!) Too often in my life I take myself RIGHT UP to the edge of success, freak out, turn around and go back the way I came. There is some small part of me that must think the well worn path is the most comfortable. But I'm finally starting to get that there is a hell of a difference between the sweet ache in the body that comes from stretching into new spaces and the draining, gray, fatigue that comes from following a voice other than your own.

(Sacred Voice notwithstanding). ;)

xo

*Sort of sounds like the law firm from hell, doesn't it?

Sunday Night

2010-06-20T20:25:00.000-07:00

Listening to my Natalie Walker station on Pandora is keeping me in the melancholy mood I started out in a couple of hours ago. I don't know why I'm feeling sad, exactly. Everything is OK, I'm just feeling quiet. Maybe it's because I'm tired. Or because I spent most of the day going through closets and drawers - folding and sorting things that don't fit me anymore.

I brought two big boxes to Goodwill this afternoon which meant a drive through my old neighborhood. The neighborhood of my former married life. It seems like eons ago that I lived in the boxy tract house with the grey vinyl siding (is five years an eon?). I know he doesn't live there anymore, so it was OK to drive by. Why do I do that? Am I looking for my old self? Do I want to visit the ghost of the girl that paced up and down the sidewalks - searching for escape? Yes. I think I do. I want to tell her she's OK now. She doesn't have to worry about the dandelions, or what he will say when he gets home about the dish left in the sink or the streaks on the floor.

I make left turns and find my stomach turning. He may not live there anymore but the nausea and tension still do. I hurry on my way - thankful to be driving somewhere else. I want to cry with relief. I am so grateful.

I'm Still Here. (No, Really).

2010-06-14T21:21:00.000-07:00

Wow! Day 7 of the 21.5.800 challenge and what a week it's been. I'm discovering lots of good blogs like this one, realizing that I'm sort of falling in love with Twitter - although I'm still playing hard to get, just a little bit. I feel as though this has the potential to turn into a full blown romantic obsession, and who knows where THAT will lead me, and for the first time in years I can actually FEEL my abdominal muscles (hot diggity damn, I knew you were hiding in there somewhere!)

All of this takes me back to when I was a little girl and introduced to the very first McDonald's Playland. It was a huge windowless room, the walls were painted red and it was filled with carousels and slides and swingsets and every sort of colorful thing an 8 year old would delight in. My father was a travelling Ronald McDonald who stood on stage and did magic tricks in parking lots (that's an entirely different blog post) and if memory serves, we were at one of their flagship stores, peeking in to see the latest and greatest thing this company had designed. It took my breath away and I didn't know where to begin or what to jump on first. But for just a few minutes, it was all mine.

So, yeah. This 21.5.800 thing sort of feels like that. It's like I've opened the door to this very interesting place and I'm giddy and excited, but also pretty bewildered. I've shut the door a few times this week because there were moments when all of it just got to be overwhelming. But what's new for me is the coming back. I'm the sort of person that will eat the Reese's peanut butter cup blizzard for dessert even though I had fries at lunch and a cheese omlette with bacon for breakfast - once I go off the diet, I go big.

But not this week.

If I slipped up on yoga one day, I'd return to the floor the next (my purple mat is STILL in a box at my folk's house - really must pick that up) and when I missed my writing on Day 3, I realized that I actually MISSED my writing. I wanted to get back to it. Even though it was just freewriting in my cheap little Penway composition book from Walgreens - it was a chance for me to step away from the chaos of my work day. It's been a long time since I've allowed myself the luxury of anything else in my day - my job is all consuming most of the time, and this discovery that I can do it differently was a very pleasant surprise. My lovely taller than average, 30-something friend said it best:

"When I plan my day around when I’m going to write, other things (i.e. work), don’t seem so over important. Work, is a rock for sure, but if clear boundaries are not set, it can also be like the sand or the water – it’ll just seep in wherever I let it, so I might as well plan on other things first. If I don’t have other things to focus on, work bleeds into life like a Sharpie on a wet paper towel".

And she's an artist, so she would know about the Sharpie thing.

I got a little Sacred Voice-y up there (you're gonna have to watch that with me), so I'll wind this down. Bottom line? This is fun and my ass isn't on the couch watching TV nearly as much. And that's really pretty good.

Day 2 - Getting to Know Savasana

2010-06-09T17:39:00.000-07:00

It's Day 2 of the 21.5.800 project and here's where I'm at. I've written 1300 words and completed one day of yoga practice. Although "completed one day of yoga practice" might be a bit misleading. It was a hell of a day at work, so I decided to try Savasana pose tonight, and it went something like this:

7:05pm Arrive home. I throw my keys on the counter and go upstairs to change clothes. On the way I eye some leftover Garrett's Chicago mix popcorn in the kitchen and debate whether or not I want to dive in now, or wait until later. "No", I say to myself, "Now is for yoga."

7:10pm I'm in my white tee shirt and yellow pajama pants. I dig out my kitchen timer and set it for 21 minutes (allowing one minute for me to fart around and get comfortable). I put the timer on my bed and cover it with a pillow to muffle the sound. When this particular kitchen timer goes off it has all the subtlety of a hand grenade, and I've had enough adrenaline today thankyouverymuch.

7:11 pm I remember that my sticky purple yoga mat is sitting in a box at my parent's house, so I lie down on my beige carpet underneath an open window in my office. My posture falls naturally into the pose described here and a little part of me feels smug and satisfied. "I can do this. This will be easy."

I close my eyes and can't see the clock anymore. But I can hear the ticking and it's LOUD. A word comes into my head. POPCORN. My mind's eye watches the word float away on a stream. No - more like on a little mini-conveyor belt on a stream.

I breathe deeply and feel, for a moment, at peace. Another word pops into my head and I send it down the conveyor belt, smiling inside at how cute I've made this little mechanical vehicle, and how easily it works for sending away the thoughts. "I should write about this. I haven't finished my word count yet for today." SHUSH goes down the stream.

Minutes later and I notice my right arm hurts. I am feeling the weight of my body on the floor and I can sense its unevenness. My neck is knotted. My hand is cold and I want to move it. But I don't. I feel the breeze come through from the open window and hear voices on the golf course just beyond the fence in my backyard.

The chill in my right hand starts to distract me and as I pick up my arms from the floor to tuck them inside my yellow pajama pants for warmth, I silently scold myself for breaking the posture. "But isn't this what you should do?" I wonder. "You don't break the rules enough. You're always trying to do everything perfectly."

My mind drifts back to when I was twelve and taking yoga at the Himalayan Institute with my mother. The room was dark and dusky and filled with the strong scent of incense and I couldn't stand it. My mother whispered to me in the dark. "You're working too hard." Remembering this, I feel cheered. Like I've discovered THE MEANING of this exercise. THE MESSAGE I am supposed to hear. "Yes, Erika, break the rules, ha!"

I breathe in and out and work to still my mind. I come back to the breath over and over again. My hands, still tucked inside for warmth, wander over my hips and I wonder, "Have my hips always been this squishy? This soft?"

My head is cloudy now and buzzing with thoughts and words fighting for space. I think about my to-do list at work. The conversations I had with students. I sigh and feel tired. I wonder how much time has gone by. Can I stop now? Have I failed?

I laugh to myself as I shake out my legs and draw them up. My arms push me forward and I am standing. I walk to the timer and see there is only a minute left. I am surprised.

I put on a sweatshirt, walk downstairs and pour some popcorn in a bowl.

Tomorrow I'll start again. And I feel good.

Let's Do This Thing

2010-06-07T18:32:00.000-07:00

Ok. So I signed up for this thing. This internet community thing. Specifically, I committed to practicing yoga five days a week, and writing 800 words each day, for 21 days. What. The. Fuck. I have so much to do I'm literally having chest pains thinking about all the things I have to do. I don't even make lists anymore, I have so much to do. And I can't stand that I can't talk about all the things I have to do here yet. But soon. Oh yes.

The guidelines tell me I can write anything. Business stuff counts (but I'll try not to use that as an excuse). It can be freewriting. Journal writing. Blog writing. Memoir writing. Am I writing a book? No. (Not yet.) Do I have a specific goal I want to hit at the end of the 21 days? Maybe. But it's not a 'product'. I don't have a specific magazine article I want to pitch, or book proposal I want to send. I have a bunch of notes swimming around in my head and some disjointed ideas on what I think might be amusing to noodle on. I think my goal in this is to experiment with the idea of not thinking so damn much. (Ahhhhhhhhhh. Feels better already).

So if any of you out there in internet-land are actually reading this (Hi, Mom!) fair warning - I have no idea what's going to come out over these next 3 weeks. Be gentle with me please.

xo

P.S. Oh, and that yoga thing? Ha. Of course I'm ignoring that part. I live in my head 99% of the time so really - this is perfect. I'm screwed. Regardless - I'll be recording all my sweaty struggles right here. Picture a small child of about three in the throes of a temper tantrum - kicking the floor and screaming. That just about sums it up for me and yoga. Do I feel good when I do it? Yes. Does it help me sleep? Ohhhh yes. How about all that chronic pain? Pretty much makes that disappear too. Why I don't do it on a regular basis? For some reason I seem to be terrified of treating myself with the self care I really need. Uh-oh, I'm using my sacred voice again. Shit. Time to go.

Awesomeness

2010-06-03T07:16:00.000-07:00

Oh it's JUNE!

I adore this time of year - the weather is perfect, the sky is still faintly light when I start winding down for bed, and there is that zing in the air that makes us all leave work a little earlier, and play outside a little longer. My favorite summer place opened for the season yesterday (and oh is this my favorite place...no, really. I want someone to come here with my ashes after I'm gone and throw me into the breeze here. THAT good. Who can resist music + food + friends + beauty? I can't, apparently....) I love the day it opens. It means that finally the wait is over. No more cold, no more dark. Just the lightness of summer stretching out wide open.

I also signed on for this project yesterday - despite my hesitancy (really, I have plenty on my plate already), I know this is going to be good.

The month of May was spent digging through closets and under beds, and I've shredded half a dozen boxes worth of papers, cards and past life detritus. I've plowed through piles of photographs - FINALLY throwing away all those prints of the floor I accidentally took, or the blurry lampshades (Why the hell didn't I do that earlier?) I threw away pictures of people who I don't know anymore, too. And didn't feel bad about it. I'm finally starting to get that whole idea of "making way for the new". It feels damn good to get rid of the junk. And I love that I can see my closet floor again. I have room now. So we'll see how this goes.

Cheers!
xo

Stir Crazy

2010-05-26T19:04:00.000-07:00

It's another unseasonably hot and muggy night and the air is heavy. If I wasn't already in my pj's I'd be heading out to try on cheap summer dresses at Target. Or something.

Instead I'm here - saying hello. I didn't write as much as I wanted to this last week - which I'll attribute to getting sick last Tuesday and ending up flat out on the couch. I called in to work on Wednesday and spent the day dozing through daytime television. It felt so good to stop moving.

I haven't made the peanut butter cookies yet, but I will soon. I did ride my bike to the train station and found it a delightful - if sweaty - experience.

Other than that, I'm still feeling my way through things here in Blogland. I fully expect that soon I will stop writing about writing about things. And then it will get more interesting.

Until then - I'm going to switch the channel over on Stereomood and settle in to this Wednesday twilight.

xo

What I Want To Do This Week

2010-05-16T18:51:00.000-07:00

1. Bake more of these amazing peanut butter cookies.

2. Ride my bike. (Ideally to the train station every morning. Once I figure out the pants/shoes situation, I might actually be able to accomplish this).

3. Leave work before 6pm. And actually leave work. No, really. My Blackberry is making my thumbs numb. Time to put it down.

4. Get at least 7 delicious hours of sleep each night.

5. Write more here. I've been slacking.

6. Read this. It'll help with #5.

We'll see.

In between

2010-05-05T17:45:00.000-07:00

Ugh.

I'm in a funny place. There's so much I want to write here - but I'm trying to follow the rules and behave like the 'good girl' I am. (Oh but there's so much of me that wants to say,"Fuck that!")

Big changes coming up. So much to do.

In the meantime, I'll say, "More, soon. I promise." It's a beautiful spring night. The windows are open and the breeze smells warm and fresh. I miss the two beautiful cats I had the pleasure of taking care of these past two weeks while their "Mom" was away. (Thanks Cheryl!) I forgot how nice it was to have creatures in the house. They made me laugh and got in the way. They were badass. They've been gone a couple of days now, but I still expect to see them perched in the windowsill. One day soon, I'll have my own again.

I forget sometimes, that it's nice to share my space.

And Now, a Word About the HSP Thing (or Why There's Been Radio Silence)

2010-04-27T13:42:00.000-07:00

So yeah....I'm a "Highly Sensitive Person" (or HSP) . Most of the time I forget about this specific trait - but for the past couple of weeks it's been front and center in my life. I fight this most of the time - pretending that I can be all, do all, keep up with the masses that race through life at breakneck speed. But I can't, I really can't. And when I try - it costs me.

My lovely friend Laura once challenged me (in the nicest of ways) on why I didn't do a better job of protecting my sensitivity. This thought had not even occurred to me (it's felt like a big 'ole ugly liability most of my adult life), "But no," she said gently, "You wouldn't carry around a Stradivarius violin without its case, would you? Can you even imagine hiking it on the train, thwacking all the passengers in the back on your way down the aisle?" The image made me laugh, and I finally understood.

Yes - I am sensitive. Not in the "If you talk about me behind my back I'll cry" sort of way (although I may, depending on what time of the month it is) but in the sort of way that just means I feel things deeply. I sense emotions of people around me strongly, I smell things others don't, hear noises loudly that may simply be faint background sounds for others. It's as if my radio is turned WAY up. My antenna picks up not only the local stations, but also all the static in between, and quite possibly that Michigan station wayyyyyyyyy across the lake.

I've been like this my entire life - (according to Dr. Elaine Aron, being a highly sensitive person is an inherited trait that may simply boil down to an overactive nervous system). Who knew that was why I was always the fidgety one in the movie theatre, complaining about the air conditioning that no one else seemed to notice, or why I put off getting my driver's license for almost two years because the thought of being on the highway with ALL THOSE SPEEDING CARS freaked me out? It's a lot to take in - but on the flip side, it also was probably why my friend group was as colorful as a rainbow. Never content to skate on the surface of things - I enjoyed hanging out with people who wanted to dive deep like I did, or the ones that hovered on the fringe. I always knew who felt left out in school and stretched my arms out wide to include them - which also meant I got made fun of A LOT. I went bike riding and had slumber parties with the "girl who had cooties". I was teased mercilessly for ice skating with "that loner guy who doesn't talk to anyone." Yeah, but didn't anyone else notice that the loner guy had sad eyes? They drew me in and I felt compelled to know his story. (First lesson learned: Sad eyes = dark and tortured artist soul = bad breakup. IN THE SIXTH GRADE. That's just too damn early for heartbreak people...)

Anyway - there's more to be said here, but for now, I'll just say HOLY TOLEDO. The calendar has been jam packed with conferences, work meetings, and social opportunities a-plenty. I've reconnected with some very cool people recently - people I haven't seen since college, some that I was close to in highschool. I'm beyond blessed to have the circle of friends that I do and I work hard at maintaining these friendships, but when work life and social life compete for attention like they've done these past two weeks, something gives and I go into hibernation mode. If I'm not careful, hibernation mode leads to shutdown mode (i.e. overwhelm) and that's when it's just me under the covers with not even the TV for company. It's a physical feeling - almost as though the very fibers of my nerves have suddenly split into two - their frayed edges unable to process anything more.

So that's where I'm at. Life's busy - chock full of interesting things. I'm thankful. I'm tired. I'm cranky. There are changes on the horizon that call for some pretty big adjustments to be made, and I'm learning how to shift my focus to fit it all in, while making room for extra space at the same time. It's a delicate line to walk....and I'm drawing it every day.

Read This Book

2010-04-17T10:21:00.000-07:00

A dear friend of mine just handed me a copy of this book and already my day is brighter. For anyone who has ever suffered through meetings pinching their legs to stay awake, or felt the pain of sitting through hours of mind-numbing power point presentations, this one's for you. If you've ever found yourself leaning in to a co-worker, whispering ever so softly, "Ha! If we were drinking every time she said ANALYTICS we'd be half in the bag by now!!!" this book is really for you.

One of my biggest pet peeves is corporate-speak. And academia-speak. Really, any old sort of speak that comes across as pompous and arrogant.

Honestly? I could call you a bloviate, but it just feels better to say you're an a$$hole.

Put a Fork in Me

2010-04-13T15:08:00.001-07:00

I'm done.

No, really. Holy cannoli.

What do I miss most about vacation? The long, beautiful stretches of non-interrupted time.

I am AMAZED at how different I feel being back just one week. I am drained, exhausted, fried. I'm eating more junk food, drinking more wine. I'm here in this blog space now to sit in the shade. To escape the frenized tangles of my 'to-do' list.

My work environment is highly social - which works for me most days. Except for times like now when I'm done. It's after 5 and I'm out of juice. The low fuel light isn't just on, it's flashing red. I pray for a quiet train ride home. To be ignored so I can read my book in silence and let the day fall off me. Most of my day is spent giving - I teach, I guide, I share, I laugh - I don't believe in NOT connecting. If we are sharing space together I will really look for you and if you choose to not be seen I will only try harder. This gets me in trouble and yes, it makes me tired. But it's who I am, and sometimes who I am just needs to be quiet and to shut the door.

I promise not to slam it, I won't ignore you if you knock. But I will close it just the same.

Re-Entry

2010-04-11T19:52:00.000-07:00

Damn. I was right - finding a good internet signal in England proved to be challenging and I didn't get to blog.

I'm home now, coming off about a week of 're-entry' time, and have for the most part adjusted back to life. The first night home was the hardest - I stopped off at the grocery store to pick up some food and almost cried when I saw a package of beautifully wrapped English cheese in the gourmet food section. It was a strange, homesick feeling - even though I was three minutes from my bed I wanted to be back in the aisles of Waitrose, where just a few days before I stood in the aisle and chose a sharp and crumbly cheddar (for only about two pounds sterling I might add!). We ate it for breakfast with eggs and salad, for a snack with grapes and apples, and on our last day with scones and damson jam.

So yes - I'm back in the swing of things and already too tired and trying to remember all the bits and pieces I want to write about. There's lots of stuff swirling around in my head, and until some things get sorted, they may stay that way for a bit. In the meantime, I'll be dreaming of this:

U.K. Bound

2010-03-29T12:53:00.000-07:00

Well, my bags are packed, and they're only slightly heavier than they usually are - thanks to the addition of my laptop. I've decided to try to do some updating from England. This may be an experiment in patience, I've not yet plugged in from that side of the Atlantic. We shall see!

I'm wearing the requisite black yoga pants and have packed the Advil P.M., now all that's left is to try to remember the little things I didn't write down.

See you soon!

Saturday Night

2010-03-20T23:18:00.001-07:00

Restless

2010-03-17T21:25:00.000-07:00

Man, it's late! I have about a thousand things to do....the most important one being to SLEEP. Instead, I thought I'd wander on over here to say hello. It's been a little while, yes. Typical excuses - busy at work, busy in life. I just said goodbye to a dear friend who spent the weekend and I'm feeling angsty and restless. I've been here before and know that this will fade as things return to their normal rhythm. I'm always thankful to see him - he interrupts my routine in the juciest of ways - yet this side of it is always a bit sad as he recedes from view.

No matter - there are good things on the horizon. Exciting things like packing for another trip across the pond. Less than two weeks and Mom and I will be back on British soil. I've found the Oyster card and rustled up the leftover pound sterling, so now all that's left is to look at a map and do the laundry. For now, it's goodnight.

xo

Olives, Prosecco, and a Little Bit of Perspective

2010-03-03T11:57:00.000-08:00

Oooooooh weeeeee! What a week it has been. A busy one on the work AND social front - and one filled with more drama and intrigue than you can shake a stick at. (What does that mean? I really don't know, but it's fun to say...)

Side note - I do NOT intend to make this blog a space where I rant about the day job. But quite honestly, this week is going to go down in the record books as a spectacular display of political power plays. I am truly amazed by just how seriously people can take themselves. Ok - back to it...

So - not only have I been surprised in my work world, but also in my outside life. I was lucky enough this last weekend to attend an alumni event for my alma mater at a beautiful four star Italian restaurant . The restaurant was perched high in a skyscraper, and our view from the private dining room was of Lake Michigan and winter waves crashing under stormy skies. It was the sort of view that made me blink - for a moment I couldn't tell where the water ended and the sky began. It was far from blue, but beautiful just the same. Looking out at the gray made me feel warm and happy to be inside.

The afternoon began with a cocktail reception outside of the main dining room. Tall glasses of bubbly prosecco were delivered to us on shiny trays, and the room slowly began to heat up with the buzz of conversation. Shortly after, we took our glasses and made our way to round tables dressed with linen tablecloths and chocolate velvet chairs. Small plates of shiny red, green and black olives lay waiting, along with baskets of Parmesan crisps. At the head of the each table was a mini cooking station and the chatter started up in the room as the Executive Chef explained, "Yes, this in fact will be an interactive cooking demonstration, and all of you are going to cook your own lunch!" The buzz in the room got louder, and he quickly interrupted us, "Not to fear, each table will have their own personal sous chef to help, so really, you can blame them if things don't turn out." Phew.

Our sous chef was Jeff - and he had an easy way about him. He was young, but seasoned enough to be comfortable leading us through the paces. First up - garlic Gulf shrimp with calabrian chilies, rosemary and arugula. By this point, our table had dived into the first wine pairing - a light white Verdicchio - and we were feeling the warmth. We declared ourselves "the cool table" - we were obviously there because we love food, and we were having fun sharing stories of favorite meals, food trips taken, and blogs written. (I think the rest of the tables might've been discussing other things like mutual funds, or politics, I could be wrong though.)

Not everyone was participating in this conversation, however, and I observed across the room a woman sitting seriously with her arms folded across her chest. She was older, and looked perhaps like she might be more comfortable in a small town Wisconsin bar ordering up a Miller Lite, rather than a swanky four star restaurant overlooking the water. She wore a faded sweater and jeans (most of the group turned up in cocktail dresses or skirts). Her wine was untouched and when Jeff leaned down to serve her the first of the shrimp - gleaming pink on a square white plate, she shook her head and said crisply, "I don't eat shellfish". Her arms stayed crossed and she looked angry and sour. I felt for her husband - he was the one 'cooking' the shrimp with our sous chef this round, and his eyes were excited and expectant as a puppy when Jeff leaned down to serve her. It reminded me of a moment in my old life - when I was married and partnered with a man who often chose punishment over joy. I remember watching him one Saturday morning as he sat at an old plastic card table in our upstairs office, writing out checks for bills we had plenty of money for. He'd been sitting in a stiff-backed office chair for over two hours, and I remember tiptoeing in and suggesting, "Maybe we could venture out to Starbucks and finish the bills together in snuggly chairs with some coffee?" He balked at my suggestion. "No," he said, "We can make our own coffee at home".

I realize now how lucky I am to have the chance to view the world the way I want to. This is sometimes what I most want to shout to people who keep their arms folded, mouths tight lipped and closed. "YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE SO UNHAPPY!!!!" I would gleefully shout. "YOU CAN ACTUALLY CHOOSE TO DO IT DIFFERENTLY!!!" I continued to watch the woman across the table - ignoring polite questions from tablemates trying to draw her out, asking pointed questions of her that really said, "Join us here. Even if you can't eat that, we want to share with you." We moved from tasting white wine to red (a delicious Montepulciano), and her first glass remained full. Next on the menu was a potato gnocchi dish, sauteed in chicken stock with beech mushrooms, Parmesan cheese and truffle oil. It was a simple dish, but warm and good. Filling without being heavy. The table chowed down and was ready for seconds, so I bravely decided to give it a go and assist in cooking this round with Jeff. He was friendly and did a nice job trying to teach me how to do that famous chef "pan flip." I'm proud to say that only a couple of mushrooms escaped the pan.

Next up was dessert - and we oooohed and ahhhhhed as a rainbow of gelato was set down. Flavors of pistachio, lemon, berry, vanilla and hazelnut, each tucked snuggly in a cup of pastry crust and served with the best Italian wedding cookies I've ever had - so buttery, they literally crumbled the second my tongue closed around them. I watched as the angry woman leaned in to her husband and muttered about how she was going to answer the feedback form given at the end of the event - she was STILL talking about the shellfish. I felt sad for her then as I knew we would each step away from the day with such different perspectives. I could tell she felt slighted, snubbed - overcharged even. Did I love my experience? Absolutely. Were there parts of it that were challenging? Of course. I show up to most events as a "Party of One" these days and that is always a bit scary. But I believe in choosing joy, and tasting everything - even if that means the gluten from the tiny little wedding cookie will make my stomach hurt later. It's a choice I made, because I wanted that little bit of deliciousness, and for me, the trade-off was worth it. Writing this now, I am reminded of Roger Ebert's quote from his earlier visit to Oprah this week:

“I believe that if, at the end of it all, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn’t always know this, and I am happy that I lived long enough to find it out.”

Amen, Roger. Amen.

Commute

2010-02-20T09:55:00.001-08:00

Pictures from my morning walk.....

Missing England

2010-02-14T13:56:00.000-08:00

I'd really like to be there right now.

Work work work work work work work

2010-02-07T17:59:00.000-08:00

Sigh. Yes. I've been working a lot lately. It's a busy quarter, and I'm teaching in addition to my 'regular' responsibilities. In addition to all the hours I'm clocking at the office, I've also been carving out time to exercise at the gym I joined in January. This is a very new thing for me, as I'm really more used to spending time in my head. (Body? What body? Who are you? What?) I'm surprised at how much I'm enjoying it. My workout equipment of choice is the recumbent bike. I punch the Cardio button, enter "30 Minutes", my age, weight, and away I go. Five minutes in and the wetness starts seeping through my back - a surprisingly nice feeling.

It's an odd thing - this newfound respect for getting sweaty. I've discovered how GOOD I feel after breathing hard and pushing myself past my regular limits. It's not about vanity this time. It's about having more energy, about feeling centered and rooted in strength. Even after a mere half hour on a Sunday morning - my mind feels clearer, and there's a spring in my step. This week alone I've ripped through piles of paperwork that previously sat stagnant for months in my home office. I've decluttered drawers, gone through old boxes of photos, reorganized sock drawers.

There's a part of me that's impatient, yes. I want so badly to fit into that old pair of jeans from college - the ones I bought after going through a particularly bad breakup. The ones I bought when I was at my skinniest weight ever. But then the real me interrupts and says it's okay. I remember I'm just fine the way I am. As long as I keep breathing, and moving, and making way for the new, everything will fall into place.

Back to the Business at Hand (Or, Dear Salad, I Love You).

2010-01-14T15:12:00.001-08:00

Alright already.....it's time to get back to the business of savoring. Right now that means enjoying a yummy salad after a long and busy day. Greens, onions, bleu cheese, beets, garbanzos (love that word), sunflower seeds, cherry tomatoes and oil and vinegar dressing. Oh and a sprinkling of raisins.

I love this kind of salad. It's the best combination of flavors - a little salty, a little sugary, a little crunchy and oh so comforting. It's the great balancer after a day of too much sweet and my body says, "Mmmmmmmm.....thank you."

Next on the agenda is a little more work, a train ride home, some Tivo'd Jon Stewart and sleep. Delicious delicous sleep. Tomorrow is a day off and I can't wait for the open space.

Night.
xo

Stumped.

2010-01-12T20:07:00.000-08:00

Drat. I want to play here so very much, but life seems to be getting in the way as of late.

My day job requires me to be incredibly "on" for many many hours (12 at a minimum, when you count the three hour a day commute!) It's a chewy, chewy job, that's for sure. No zoning out allowed. I love it, for the most part - but it's just one piece of who I am.

I created this place so I could have a playground of sorts. A place to be away from the day. But tonight I am stumped. And maybe that's ok. I need to learn how to play.

Okay.

Back from Blighty

2009-12-27T09:24:00.000-08:00

I've been home from England for almost four days now, and I don't know quite where to start. I'm in that in-between place - the rosy vacation glow hasn't quite left, but the to-do list beckons. There's laundry to put away and work e-mails to read.

It was a good trip. Mostly sweet, with some salty bits thrown in for good measure. What I love most about travel is the process. For weeks, Mom and I anticipated this time. We researched cafes, read tearoom menus, looked up museums and art galleries. This was good because when we got there we knew how to get places and that made things easy. In my mind, I pictured endless hours in front of a crackling pub fire, cider in hand.

There was some of all that, yes - but there was also lots of hard work. If you look at it from our friend Maslow's perspective - being halfway across the world means that you're starting at ground zero when it comes to 'basic needs' such as where you're going to lay your head and what you're going to eat for dinner. What's so easy at home, can be damn frustrating in another culture where you're just not used to the rules (which is why Mom and I ended up eating at the Victoria Station McDonald's one depressing Sunday night - let's call that one of the salty bits....) Add to that the fact that you're dragging around about 50 pounds of stuff and it's really not that relaxing or fun.

But it is so worth it.

I'm lucky in that I've travelled a fair amount in my life, so I know that unless I constantly remind myself to JUST. BE. IN. THE. MOMENT. it all whips by so fast I don't know what hit me. Moments like sitting in the lounge of our St. Albans Bed and Breakfast eating spicy Christmas pudding and drinking strong hot coffee. People watching in King's Cross and writing notes in my journal with my favorite green Sharpie. Warming up by the fire at the Red Lion Inn after an icy walk in the Cotswolds and watching Coda the pub dog devour a bone gently on the seat next to us.

Here now on my couch at home - these memories are syrupy and warm and I'm already waxing nostalgic for them. I've conveniently forgotten that my toes were so cold on that Cotswolds walk I couldn't feel them for at least an hour, and I really hated the Christmas pudding. It was brown and sticky and just not my thing. But I miss it just the same.

Comfort in a New City

2009-12-12T11:22:00.000-08:00

I'm back from a business trip and nursing a cold. The trip was the big thing standing between me and getting excited about England, and to say I'm happy to be home is a giant understatement.

It was a quick trip to a city I hadn't visited before, and I had a good time exploring and even got to catch up with a friend over very delicious cocktails.

But the first thing I did after arriving was to set out on foot for some fresh air. I wanted to get my bearings, and the temperature was a balmy 51 degrees which felt practically tropical compared to the howling wind and below freezing windchills at home. My co-workers were delayed due to said howling wind, so I had plenty of time for solitary wandering which made me verrrrrrrrry happy. I got happier still when I rounded the block and found a WHOLE FOODS! I knew in that moment that everything was going to be okay. Walking in I breathed in the familiar scent - not sure what it is exactly, but it comforts me to know that it's the same no matter which state I'm in. Something about the mix of fresh fruits and veggies combined with all the natural soaps - whatever it is, it's better than aromatherapy (for me, anyway...)

I picked up some organic pink lady apples and these crackers which totally rock, made a trip to the salad bar for dinner and took my goods to their outside patio. Eating outside in December equals extra special treat! And the people watching was superb....two tables down from me was a buttoned up business man enjoying coffee and a paper, then a homeless man plopped himself down in the chair next to me. We sat in silence together - me chewing my spinach and sunflower seeds, him staring out at the sidewalk - until he'd had enough of the quiet and moved on.

The rest of the trip turned out to be uneventful enough, thankfully. I met some new colleagues, shared a wonderful family style Lebanese dinner and got in some good hotel chill out time (pay cable channels! long hot shower! fluffy pillows!) and made it home in time to enjoy the weekend. Next up - lovely London. I'm very ready for some time away.

The Countdown Has Begun

2009-12-05T17:59:00.001-08:00

In less than two weeks, I am happy to say, I will be landing in London. This will be my fourth trip across the Atlantic in two years, and I am as excited as if it were my first. Mom and I were able to snag some pretty good airfare back in September, and for both of us this trip has become our light at the end of the tunnel.

We both work pretty stressful 'day' jobs at the moment (who doesn't these days??) and are deliciously enjoying the countdown to departure. I'm thankful that she is as flexible as I (maybe even more so) which means there will be plenty of time on the itinerary for wandering and spontaneity. Right now the only 'for sures' are trips to Borough and Broadway Markets, casear salads at the Ebury Wine Bar,a visit to The Photographer's Gallery bookshop and maybe a cuppa at The Goring Hotel. I've been worried up until now about fitting into the right pair of travelling pants - but have decided to give up the fight. There are too many moments to be enjoyed this time in the season...and as Mom said, we can always hit up Marks and Spencer for some dresses once we arrive. (I've determined this to be the magic secret- wearing skirts, not pants....they are much more forgiving!)

For now - the evening beckons with presents to be wrapped and bills to be paid. Goodnight!

xo