Movement

Sometimes you win…sometimes you lose

Even though I have been training for it for two months, I was unable to take my driving test yesterday. I do not want to say why, but all I can say is that I’m not happy about it. Ugh! On the positive side, I felt really confident during my practice beforehand and feel that I have a good chance of passing when I do take it. Let’s hope for a cancellation during my next two weeks off! As I had the day off anyway, I ended up cleaning R’s flat and beginning the organization for moving myself in - bought a bunch of storage and organizational boxes which I put to good use. And will begin to move everything over there in the next two weeks…finishing some time in June! (when I move furniture over) So while I didn’t take my driving test, I can say that my future place of permanent abode is looking all lovely!

One thing worth celebrating yesterday is that R. accepted a new job and resigned from his old one. He has given his one month notice! Yippee. The stress is now relieved about that. And you could tell last night as he came home. And he brought me the loveliest of flowers…a mix of roses and wild flowers. Absolutely gorgeous! I didn’t take pics but I will!

On that edge

Recently watched the film, Girl Interupted. It definitely made me think. What is mental illness? Is it always a chemical thing or can it sometimes be a choice, to hide from what scares you in the world? Can mental health be a coping mechanism that just goes wrong? All of us seem to have something that we do that is not mentally healthy all the time…some of us drink when we’re unhappy, some of us smoke to deal with stress, some have to have things in just the right place in order to deal with, well, disorder. Perhaps mental illness is just pushing those to the extreme. Perhaps we all fall on some sort of continuum and there’s just a line that we place as a society that makes some of us ‘normal’ and others of us ‘unhealthy’. Who decides this line? And what do you do that falls closer to the unhealthy part of the continuum? If something went wrong in your life, how would you react? I think having healthy coping mechanisms is something we should all be taught at a very young age - stress reduction, exercise, talking to someone about what’s going on…so much better than turning to food, or turning away from it…so much better than hurting yourself to express your pain…so much better than taking in substances which actually stress your body even if you feel like it cuts down on the pain. I think I needed that reminder that I can handle stress in healthy ways. And that the edge between ‘normal’ and ‘unhealthy’ is not where I want to head.

Let’s Get This Party Startin’

Saturday night was the end of season dinner for my hockey club. Imagine…12 teams, 6 mens’ and 6 ladies’ teams…each with at least 10 people…most of them 20-something Brits who like to drink…and most of whom are quite loud…all gathered in one big room set up like we’re here for a cheesy wedding reception. It was quite the sight. And of course, I forgot to take pictures (hoping that someone has a few I can put on here later!). But it was a great evening! Last year I definitely got a bit too drunk as I could barely figure out that I had won the most valuable player award…even after they handed me a pink tiara - yes, it was a good look! And I didn’t really know the people on my team or feel entirely comfortable being in that social situation. But this year, I was just ‘happy’ and I really like my team as well as feel comfy with them.

Before the actual dinner, we all met at one of the girls’ house for some munchies and champagne. It’s lovely how cheap good champoo is over here! We were given our new bandanas - tiger like black & white as opposed to the old ones which had a cow-like pattern (moo). And then we headed via taxi (heels far too tottering to walk too far) to the hotel where we ate a (not so good) 3 course dinner. The best part of the evening was handing out the presents to our coach and captain, followed by a huge group of drunken dancing. I had a blast! Now, as you must know by now, I’m not really a party girl. My nights are spent more on the couch than on the club floor…but get me out there & I can get my groove on (yes, I do plan on embarrassing any future children with my so not hip sayings!). This lasted until 1:30am after which we headed to the imfamous Lower Ground Bar in W. Hampstead. It is quite rank but it is the place where we hold membership, can get in for free and continue the party. I lasted about 15 minutes and then went to find a taxi. This did not work. And my phone not working did not help. So I fished out my last quid to call my bf. He was not happy with me, but dutifully came and picked me up at that ‘god-awful’ hour. Can you see why I love this man?!!!

Yup, it was a fun night. And I wasn’t even hung over (just tired) the next morning…yup, drinking a water inbetween alcoholic drinks is a smart thing sometimes!

————————————————————————————-

On an aside…the seabass which I cooked last night was great! I got the recipe here: seabass in a mustard champagne sauce.

So very yummy

I introduced R. to Borough Market this weekend. For the first time since late August I had a Saturday free!! We slept in a bit (8:30am), made a yummy french toast breakfast (haven’t had those in years) and then got onto the train. The Jubilee line was down so we had to go on the Northern line, but it ended up being faster anyway. Borough Market is so impressive…you are surrounded by food, smells and sounds. Horns tooting, people yelling out, vendors explaining their wares. Cheese, earthy veg, lines for the choritzo sandwhich a mile long with the smoky smell of meat drawing in the crowds. We bounced from stand to stand, tasting a bit of this and gazing longingly at that. If we had the money we would have left, completely loaded down. As it was we found seabass (whole) for £3 each, an amazingly smooth & tasty bit of cheese and a wonderful San Fran sourdough bread..the likes of which I haven’t tasted in years. If you get a chance to visit London and you want to astound your senses…this is the way to go. Lush. Lovely. And so very yumm!

p.s. I can’t believe I’ve posted over 50 blog posts. For me, that’s impressive…I tend to start diaries and never keep it up…cool!

Trouble with the law…

Ah…the joys of dealing with your local council. So much fun. My flatmate (A.) & I moved into a flat in Kilburn near the end of June of last year. We paid one month of council tax and then our lovely landlord, G., asked if we’d mind if he took over for it. Heck no. And yes, as soon as he asked for it, I’d pay the tax to him (which he hasn’t). So, a few months later, we get a notice of non-payment from the council…and that we have to go to court about it. A. & I get in touch with G. and he has his personal assistant get in touch with the council who assure them that they’ve worked it out…no problem. So we don’t go to court and we go on our merry way. So last week, A. comes into work with a notice from the Equita Certified Bailiffs saying that they will be coming to take our possessions on Monday. Major freakout…we again get in touch with G. who has his assistant get in touch with the council. They send us an email saying that
“Apparently there has been a mistake and the wrong account was closed, leaving
>> your account open and G’s closed.
>> I need to put this in writing for the Brent council, which I am doing at
>> present.
>> The Brent council then need to clear it with the Baliff dept, which I will
>> follow up.”

So we assumed it was taken care of…but we hadn’t heard anything as of today. So we called the council. And were informed that WE still are in charge of the payment and that the Baliff won’t be called off until the amount of £1028 is paid immediately. Like, as in TODAY. Unbelievable. We have given them G’s work number.

ed. Just talked to the council…they can’t get through to G. I’ve left a message on his mobile (he’s in the air heading to London right now). We need to get this taken care of by noon so that they can call the Baliff and stop them. I have a feeling that A. will put it on her card as mine won’t hold that amount. This sucks. There are just way too much bad things happening at once in my life…R’s heat breaking, R’s shower breaking, this…way too many expenses right around the same time that I’m supposed to be saving for the frickin thing to the States. I’m praying that I’ll get paid a bunch extra in my next paycheck…cause otherwise I’m screwed.

Meet me…

I just read about a group that’s begun in Boston. www.thelunchclub.com. The goal of the lunch club is to make new friends. And what a great idea. I don’t know if you know it until you actually get there, but it’s tougher to make friends in your 30s than it was when you were younger. So many of us move away from our hometowns, lose touch with old friends or may, like me, move very far away to a place where no one you know lives. And how do you make friends? How do you even meet people? Heck, it’s tough enough to date, but “friending” is even harder! So a club to meet people sounds great…go out to lunch, go for a drink, and there are a bunch of people all wanted to meet someone else for friendship reasons. I’ve joined field hockey & cricket clubs so I do meet people…but there are so many 20, 30-somethings who don’t have that connection and London can be tough for them. It’s hard to be surrounded by people and have no one to talk to. Perhaps this is an idea for someone to try here…in such a multicultural city it might be kinda fun!

Chip, chip, ooze.

You never realize just how important small conveniences are until they are gone. Take for example, a shower. Showers are great because you get wet, you aren’t sitting in dirt, the pressure for some are fantastic for your muscles, etc. I love showering. But R’s shower broke last week. For a while, we were just turning the water off when we didn’t need it so that cold water wasn’t pouring out of it non-stop. It was definitely an electrical problem with his electric shower (so different from the States!). So this weekend, on Saturday, R. decided we needed to fix it ourselves. So we went shopping and found a new electric shower. Should have been an easy task…but no…the person who owned the flat previous to R. had put the shower within the tiles. So now, in removing the shower, tiles were missing. And the new shower didn’t fit/work within that space. So back to the store on Sunday for tiles, adhesive, grout, etc. Then came the chipping away at tiles to make it all work. Chip, chip, oozing goop, “£$*(@”$&£…yeah, it has been a great weekend. We managed to get all three of the new tiles adhered last night (it takes a few hours) adn this morning R decided to grout them…with grout oozing everywhere as the spout on that broke…yes, an early morning disaster. Sigh. So I’m sitting at work, with grout/adhesive still stuck under my finger nails (hate that feeling), knowing that tonight, R will try to figure out the electronics of this new shower & probably electrocute himself or start a fire. I think I’m going to stay away for a few hours…or perhaps start to drink early! Just kiddin’. Sorta.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day…sorta

Well…it’s St Patrick’s Day…and I’m in the UK, so you’d think I’d really get into celebrating it. The thing is - I don’t own green clothing. It’s just not ‘my colour’. So perhaps I ought to buy something, but I just don’t care enough. I know if I walk down my neighbhood high street, I’ll be able to find green shamrocks up the wazzoo…and perhaps I ought to buy something from the dollar store just for shits & giggles. But the thing is - tonight I’m not going out, I’m hanging at R’s, who is cooking up a lovely lamb curry (yup, so very Irish) for friends who are leaving us after this weekend (moving to Australia). So not in an Irish state of mind. Plus I have a hockey game tomorrow in the early a.m…have to meet at the clubhouse at 9am (darn it!). So…can’t really drink (which is, as you know, the purpose of the holiday), am not wearing green (the official colour) and not even going to eat anything Irish of any sort. Man this is making me grumpy. Oh, well…Happy St Patrick’s Day anyway. Sigh.

Out of order

If you walked into my office, you would never think that there is even a touch of a tendency in me of being anal. I have piles of papers everywhere. I am definitely not a neat freak. The same would apply if you checked out my flat on a normal day…while most things are in their place, you will find a layer of dust somewhere as well as a shoe here and there. But then you might look into my closet and gasp. Here is where L. hides her little secret. Yes, she does have some anal qualities…and they are hidden in the closet (not THAT closet but the one outside my bedroom). Yes, I must have my closet in a particular order to feel one with the world. My jackets/coats are hung on the far left side, from heavier to lighter, darker to lighter…then next come the skirts, again ordered by colour as well as length…followed by trousers…then dresses and finally any sort of costumy thing I might own that I hang up. All in colour and heaviness order. As I’m now living between two flats, rushing home only to put things away and to drop stuff off, you can imagine that my closet is in a bit of disarray…and my space at R’s flat is not quite big enough for too much order (though it is being imposed). I feel that my closet tends to reflect how things are going for me…and since my life is not very ordered right now (or at least it doesn’t feel that way) then neither is my closet. And I’m sad about that, cause a nice looking closet makes me happy (as well as makes my life easier in the morning). So…I think part of spring break (in 3 weeks folks!) will be spent getting my life back into order. And funnily enough, R. said that he wanted to get things back to normal at his flat again…that it was getting to be too much of a mess…ah, shared order. Life is good!

My wasted-calorie weekend

I’m still feeling my weekend. It’s something that creeps up on you as you head into your 30s…and then hits you with a BANG once you get to your mid-30s. Yes, it’s the hangover. From college until probably my late 20s, I drank quite a bit. Not too much binge drinking (post-college), but definitely consistently and more than I did when I got into my 30s. And I drink even less now that I’m with R. And I’m happy about it as alcohol is pretty much a wasted calorie in so many ways. But this weekend was definitely a wasted calorie weekend.

Friday night I met up with some friends from the UK-Yankee website. Sounds crazy to meet up with people you meet on the net, but as an expat, it’s one of the best ways of finding people who are ‘like you’. We went to Ye Olde Chesire Cheese and drinking ensued. Now cause I had hockey the next day, I did stick to only having two single vodka drinks. Quite proud of myself there. And I had a ball…talked to a few of the women & guys I had met in earlier gatherings (very nice!) and met a few people, including one guy that I tend to contradict on the board (he was funny about it). So..overall a great success…there had to be at least 20 of us total throughout the evening. I went home and realized I was STARVIN’! So, as there wasn’t any food at all in the fridge other than cheese…I ate a ton of that and then binged on Lime flavoured Dorritos. Yup, really healthy…oy!

Saturday morning I enjoyed a full English breakfast with my friend, G. Great restaurant called Jays in W. Hamptead. I’ll definitely head back there. I was quite pleased that I just ate as much as I was hungry for & actually left some food on my plate…then again I still ate enough to last for hours! A few hours later I played my game (another win) and then went to the club for teas. I ended up eating a plate of fries and some baked beans. I am pathetic when it comes to those two items. And of course, I was going out to dinner so I really, really didn’t need to eat that kind of junk.

Went home and got all gussied up. The hen night theme was sexy & black, so I was wearing a new L.B.D. and some cute new heels (with a peekaboo toe..so hip & in…yeah, right). I met up with a few cricket friends who were also invited to the hen night. We had a drink at the bar and then off to Covent Garden for food. More and more wine was consumed as well as some very lovely food at Browns. More wine and then off to the Soho Lounge. Such a blast…had our own private space with a bouncer - loads of guys REALLY wanted to join our party & can you blame ‘em…tons of women in slinky black dresses…and then more wine. Around 1am (way past my bedtime) a bunch of us decided to catch the 189 night bus and off we went. I almost fell asleep before my stop but somehow made it to the flat where my stumbling woke up poor R. I know I got undressed, felt ill but didn’t throw up and passed out asleep. I didn’t drink a huge amount (despite the more and more wine) compared to my past drinking…but when you barely drink on a weekly basis, even a few wines over a few hours can hit you hard.

So…after a few nights of less sleep, a few hours of drinking, I had a hungover Sunday. I went from bed to couch and barely anything else. Luckily for me, R. was quite sympathetic and took care to feed me and get me water. He even went out to get me a falafel burget at G.B.K.!

But on to today….yes, I’m still feeling it a bit. But that’s what you get from a wasted calorie weekend!