H in London

My Commute

2012-02-06T19:05:00.002Z

I created this little song on my way home today. I think it accurately reflects what my commute is like.

Bird Brain

2011-12-31T10:30:00.004Z

I did try very hard not to over analyse the significance of this...

Every morning, since the beginning of my Christmas break I essentially go through the same routine. Cassie Cat wakes me fairly early-ish and I ease down from my little sky-bed, feed her, climb back up into my little nest and try to get a few more hours of sleep. I say try because Cassie is not fond of that. In her mind I'm meant to make myself available for after feeding cuddles or leave the house and go to work. So, she sits either in my room staring up at my loft or just outside the door mewing pathetically. If I don't come down she will then start to tear at the carpet. Usually, she'll give up and be quiet for about an hour so I can sleep a bit...usually.

This morning was a little different. I got up and fed Cassie, as is the demand of my household position, climbed back into my cozy little nest and looked out my skylight at the changing colours on the horizon as the sun rose while I drifted back asleep. Cassie did not immediately come back upstairs to insist that I rise and give her affection. It was very silent in our house, too silent.

It was about two hours after the return to my roost that I heard that familiar whiney mew, which I summarily ignored. Cassie mewed again and instantly began to tear at the carpet. I rolled over to tell her to stop when suddenly there was long, blood-curdling screech as a bird flew into my room, up to the skylight, smacked into the window pane and fell landing upon the pile of laundry on my futon sofa.

I don't think I've ever descended from my loft at such speed. Heart racing, I grabbed the pole that opens the skylight and used it to do just that. Then I looked at the black bird, which was now sprawled out in a rather unnatural position on the pile of laundry I had yet to put away. "Oh great, dead bird on my clean clothes," I selfishly thought, but when I saw that amount of feathers strewn across the floor of my room, over the threshold and into the corridor, it occurred to me that there was absolutely no blood from this bird anywhere to be found. Cassie sat just outside my bedroom door looking at me with a confused look, completely unaware of where the bird had gone. I quickly glanced back at the bird. It was no longer in an unnatural sprawling position but sat among my clothes, staring at me with terror. "Fly, be free," I said to it as I stepped out of my bedroom, closing the door behind me.

I stood in the hall surrounded by feathers and looked at Cassie, who had now taken her place at the top of the stairs keeping watch for the bird. A breeze from the open skylight blew under the door and some of the feathers floated about in a ghostly manner. I waited. Then, I cautiously opened my bedroom door hoping our guest would have been healthy and intelligent enough to make its exit through the window. Oh, it was healthy enough.

The bird again gave out a blood-curdling screech, flew up to the open window and again bumped into the pane. Instead of falling into a lump on my laundry, however, it perched itself on the open bit of the window and looked outside. Carefully, but quickly, I took the pole and opened my skylight a little more. "Freedom is that way!" I directed the bird and closed my bedroom door again.

I only waited a few seconds this time before I peeked back into my room. The bird was gone, having made its way back into the world with significantly less feathers than it had earlier. Grabbing the pole, I closed my skylight and the feathers, which had once again taken to wafting about in a ghostly manner, settled. So, I grabbed the hoover and got to work.

If you've been reading my blog for any amount of time, you know that I'm a tad bit obsessive and neurotic. Not about cleanliness mind you, but obsessive and neurotic all the same. My brain was going 100 miles an hour filling itself up with all types of metaphors and symbolism and assigning nonsensical meaning to this event, which had it occurred on any other day would have had little effect on my overactive imagination, but today isn't just any other day. Today is New Year's Eve.

Now really New Year's Eve is just another day in the greater scheme of things. The significance of New Year's Eve is created by society. It means not a damn thing to the normal operations of the universe. The moon sets and the sun rises just like any other day. Still as I vacuumed them up, I couldn't help but think of the feathers as mistakes and lessons I had learnt from over the year. I also thought of the bird's escape with far fewer feathers as being symbolic of me flying off into the start of 2012, leaving all my regrets behind. However, that same bird could be dead just a few feet away from our house, so what would be the symbolism in that?

Regardless, the event struck me. After de-feathering my room and our corridor, I turned on my computer and deleted the last two silly blog posts reviewing 2011 through my FB status updates. It was a stupid idea anyway.

And so, after not writing for quite some time, this incident has given me something slightly entertaining to journal. Somehow it seems fitting that my 2011 should end with this.

Happy New Year!

Out of the mouths of babes...and it's not even noon

2011-09-30T11:04:00.002+01:00

My students are on fire today. Well, not literally. Actually, we did have just have a fire drill that went very well, but I'm referring more to what they've said so far today and it's not even noon.

This morning in homeroom a student said to me in a very exasperated tone, "Tests and assessments are the demons of learning!" Frankly, I couldn't agree with her more.

We were notified this week that we will have our initial ISI inspection Tuesday and Wednesday of next week and the in-depth one in November. All students were told that 'visitors' from ISI would be here next week and asked to be on their very best behaviour. So in my first class of the day this conversation occurred,

Student: What does ISI stand for?
Me: Independent Schools Inspectorate
Student: Oh, so they're like food critics but for schools, not restaurants.

Finally, as the co-head of year, I had to have a serious talk with a student who has now had two behaviour transgressions within the quarter, which means we need to contact his parents. The serious talk was going well and I was instilling the fear of God in him when this happened...

Me: Now we have to contact your parents due your misbehaviour, so what can you do to make it easier for yourself at home?
Student: Hide?

I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing.

And now I return to my regularly scheduled teaching. Who knows what will come out of their mouths as the day continues.

- Posted using mobile magic

Reasonable Punishment for Looters

2011-08-21T11:03:00.004+01:00

As a teacher of pre-adolescents I have to dole out consequences for misbehaviour on consistent basis. In order for the offender to learn any sort of lesson to keep them repeating the misbehaviour, the 'punishment' must suit the 'crime'. In other words if a student is repeat gum chewer, the consequence would be to scrape off all the gum under the desks in the school during their free time, not give them a week of detention. It's all just common sense really.

In these weeks following the riots I've read about some of the sentences being handed to the convicted offenders and been appalled, to put it mildly, at how disproportionate and arbitrary the punishments seem to be in relation to the crimes that didn't involve physical violence. Then when thinking about the court and jail costs borne by the tax payers, these heavy-handed punishments seem even more ludicrous.

Oh and let's not forget the petition signed by over 100,000 people to take away benefits from anyone convicted of looting, as if that will really solve the issues at the root of the problem. Let's take a population of young people who have little opportunities, little to do and even less hope and who also have a wealth of disaffected anger and take away what little they do have. That will solve everything if those who have almost nothing are released from their prison terms to come back into society with even less.

What I haven't yet heard suggested is that the convicted looters are made to work to pay for the damage they caused or stole. This is just logical and reasonable to me. First, many of the youth who were involved in the looting have little in the ways of a skill set and not much available for them to do that's beneficial or interesting. So, making them work off the cost of the damage they have done would provide them with both a usable skill set and something useful. Plus, it suits the crime. You break it; you fix it. You cause damage; you pay for it. If you don't fulfil the guidelines and work mandated by the courts, then you go to jail and serve your sentence.

Perhaps this consequence may seem a little too simple, but that's the beauty of it. Surely if the courts have enough evidence to convict people for looting, then they have enough evidence to calculate how much damage each individual did, so the guilty looters could be put to work in the communities where they caused the damage instead of being thrown into overcrowded prison cells. Yes, tensions might be high between the victims of the rioting and the looters who will have to work off their debts at first. However, the end result will be that the looters will truly understand the extent of their damage, receive some training and skills and quite possibly feel more connected to their communities. And, all of this is much preferable than the type of humans that would eventually emerge from the prisons after being locked up for years for vandalism and theft.

I've not read a single word about a program where looters are being made to work off the damage they caused. Surely, I'm not the only person who has had this idea. There must be something somewhere!

Breaking up is hard to do

2011-08-10T21:51:00.000+01:00

Breaking up is my least favourite thing to do next to toilet cleaning. Even if I've only been out with someone once or twice, I can never bring myself to say, "I'm sorry. I'm just not interested." To me, that just seems so mean. Somehow in my head it's better to make up a story. Note: I did not say lie. I said story. A story is much better than a lie.

The story that's worked the best for me when I've only been out with someone once or twice is:
-I really like you, but you remind me too much of my brother and I can't seem to get past that. It's weird. I'm sorry.

Some stories I have wanted to tell but have kept in reserve are:
- The term is ending, so I'm going to be super busy doing grades and writing reports for the next 10 weeks.
- I met someone else. Yes, that is fast since we just went out for the first time yesterday, but I'm fast. In fact you probably wouldn't want to date me because I'm so fast. No, I'm not going home with you now.
- I'm really ill and the doctor seems to think it's something I've picked up on my travels in Asia. Apparently it's highly contagious, so I'm going to have to live in a plastic bubble for a while.
- My ex just got out of jail so I'm going into hiding. You should too.

Even after having a significant long-term relationship go pear-shaped, I can never seem to end it properly, but I will eventually end it. There's usually an "It's not you; it's me," message involved- that is unless the guy was a complete twat. Then it's a "Fuck you and fuck off!" message. In the end I suppose it's the delivery of the message that's important. When breaking up with someone you want to do it in a kind, sensitive manner to save face and end up not looking like a horrid person, even if it's to tell your partner what they can stick up their lying, cheating ass.

Ways I've broken up with people that I really regret are:
-By text
-By email
-By messenger
-By standing up in the middle of my local and screaming at the person for being a shit.

Ways I've broken up with people that I've done reasonably well are:
-Over dinner
-Over a drink
-On the phone
-While on a walk in a scenic location
-By text
-By email
-By messenger

This summer had been absolutely fabulous with no need for me to break up with anyone until today. Today I had to end a seven year relationship with a man who has always been there for me. He always listened to me and provided me with comforting wise advice. And, he did all this while making me look and feel fabulous. That's right. Today I had to break up with my hair stylist.

Kevin (not his real name) is amazing with scissors. After every appointment I walked away with perfect hair that was easy to style. Plus, he only ever used Aveda products on my hair and I always got a glass (or two) of white wine and a neck massage. Why would I end such a fulfilling relationship? Kevin works in Surrey and over a year ago I moved to East London. He's just too far away and frankly too expensive.

Like every long-term relationship that I eventually end, I've been planning to do this for quite some time. I really didn't know how to tell him the truth. The "It's not you; it's me," message just doesn't work in this situation because it's not me. It's his prices and the fact he's inconvenient to travel to. That somehow seemed just to mean to admit. So, I launched a plot. I would simply cancel my upcoming appointment, play it like I was still in the US and that I wasn't certain when I could reschedule. This would probably be done with the receptionist and not Kevin anyway, so it wouldn't be so bad. Very passive aggressive of me, I know.

Every day since last week I woke thinking, "I need to remember to call the salon today and cancel." And, every evening I would go to bed thinking, "I need to remember to call the salon in the morning and cancel." Then finally today I got a text asking me to confirm my appointment on Friday. Fuck!

'Okay, this is it,' I thought and I picked up my phone and dialled the salon number prepared to hear the receptionist's voice. Alas, the voice on the other end of the phone wasn't hers. It was male. It was Kevin. Fuck!

I greeted him in a very breezy manner and asked how he was, etc. Then I told him that I was afraid I had to cancel and that I wasn't quite sure when I could reschedule. I could hear the disappointment in his voice. He knew I was ending it. No. No. I couldn't hurt him, not my dear sweet Kevin, so I asked him what he had available in the next few weeks. Fuck me, this wasn't going well. I was about to reschedule out of guilt, but then a miracle occurred.

Kevin told me he was off work for two weeks starting Tuesday. Hoorah! I tried to hide my glee while telling him a story about how I wouldn't be able to come in for the next five days, so I'd have to call back and reschedule when he returned. Somehow I managed to tell this story without giving a specific reason as to why I couldn't come in and slipping in a joke that made him laugh. Thus, it all ended on a good note. Phew!

So, now I just need to go somewhere else and get my hair, which is turning into a shaggy mess, done. My friend, Kim, has a fantastic stylist who is closer to me, charges less and serves champagne instead of white wine. I am not certain about the Aveda products or neck massage, but I'll trade the neck massage and white wine for champagne any day of the week and my Aveda addiction means that my bathroom is already similar to an Aveda spa. I just simply won't call Kevin to reschedule and if he does call me, I'll explain that I've met someone new.

Breaking up is hard to do, but at least I've done it...kinda.

London Riot Banana Bread

2011-08-09T20:43:00.009+01:00

In case you've been in a cave, London has been overwhelmed by riots for the last three days. Last night was definitely the worst of it and as a result constant sounds of sirens (some a bit too close for my comfort) kept me from sleeping well.

Today I woke up determined to help with the clean-up. I walked around my neighbourhood to nearby areas that I heard were affected, but they were already clean. I heard through Twitter that people were meeting at Hackney Town Hall, so I walked up there. It was already tidied and those of us on the clean-up crew ended up being more props in a photo opp than anything else. Then, I heard that they needed help in Clapham, so I hopped on a train and went down there. I waited with people for several hours for forensics to finish and apparently also for Boris Johnson to show up and have his little photo opp before we could begin. (As a side note we got heckle Boris, which was satisfying) I was able to help clean for about half an hour when I heard rumours that things were starting to be dodgy around my neighbourhood tube stop, so I decided I should head home. When I arrived I discovered that the rumours were in fact just rumours and that all was fine, although shops were closing early. However, as I walked down the street to my flat complex, I saw a police car enter the carpark. This disturbed me a bit until I discovered they were there because one of my neighbours had called the police on the neighbourhood kids who were playing in our carpark. They always do that.

I fell on the sofa, exhausted, had a think and decided that the day called for a bit of baking. Carolina, my housemate, had some bananas and suggested I make banana bread. I agreed. But alas, as I rummaged through the cupboards for ingredients, I discovered we didn't have a few items. Since the shops all around us closed early, I had to improvise. The result was quite yummy, so I've decided to post my recipe for what I'm calling "London Riot Banana Bread". You should know that the original recipe came from The Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook and I have made some...ahem...notes of my modifications.

Ingredients:
-217g dark brown sugar
-53g caster sugar
(note: Original recipe calls for 270g light brown sugar, which I didn't have)
-2 eggs
(note: These were my last eggs)
-2 bananas peeled and mashed
(note: Original recipe calls for 200g, but who the hell weighs their bananas for this?)
-280g of plain flour
-slightly more than 1 teaspoon of baking powder
(note: I spilled some over the measuring spoon as I was chatting with Carolina)
-1 teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda
-about 1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon
-slightly less than 1 teaspoon of ginger
(note: Yes, you guessed it. I didn't have enough ginger or cinnamon. This should have been 1 teaspoon each)
-140g light margarine
(note: The original recipe calls for unsalted butter, but I'm on a diet)
-95g white chocolate chips
(note: The original recipe doesn't call for white chocolate chips, but I had this 100g bag and needed to justify eating 5g of them)

Preheat the oven to 170C 325F or Gas Mark 4
(note: It's actually Gas 3 in the book, but my gas oven is weird so I go to 4)

Put the dark brown sugar in a bowl and use a mixer to smoosh them together so you can pretend you have light brown sugar. (Yes I made this part up)

Add the eggs to your fake light brown sugar and use a mixer to beat until well incorporated. Then beat in the mashed bananas.

Add the flour, baking powder, bicarbonate of soda, cinnamon and ginger into the sugar and egg mixture. Stir it with a wooden spoon until all the dry ingredients have been incorporated (The Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook uses the word "incorporated" a lot) into the sugar and egg mixture. Pour in the melted butter and beat until all ingredients are well mixed.

Pour the mixture into the prepared loaf tin (I prepared mine with low calorie sunflower oil spray. I'm on a diet, remember) and bake in the preheated oven for about an hour. Bread should be firm to the touch and toothpick inserted should come out clean. Leave this to cool slightly in the tin on a wire rack before turning out completely.

Eat, enjoy and be happy that tonight in London is nowhere near like it was last night, but spare a thought to those in Manchester and other areas where the unrest continues.

Has TSA lightened it's security measures or is Logan just crap?

2011-07-11T01:27:00.004+01:00

I've got airport security down to a science now. It's a shame that there aren't time trials on how quickly one can get their little plastic baggie of liquids and lotions out, take out the laptop, take off any jackets or jumpers, take off shoes and arrange these items along with whatever is left in the carry-on bag on the conveyor belt. I'm quite speedy at this required ritual.

This morning I only had half a brain when I was packing up my overnight bag, as the other half of my brain had been eaten by several drinks the night before. I gathered all the lotions and liquids that I wanted for freshening up on the plane before it lands in Heathrow tomorrow and threw it in the little plastic baggie, which I then placed in my handbag. Then Khrisslyn suggested I take the complimentary hotel lotion with me since I liked it so much, so I tossed that in my handbag with the intention of putting it in the little plastic baggie later. Just before leaving we did a quick sweep of the room and found my shampoo, conditioner and razor in the shower, so I tossed them into my handbag along with the lotion and out of the room we went.

I said my goodbyes, got in the rental car and drove to Salem where I had lovely day shopping, sitting by the shore and basically recharging my spiritual battery. I bought a small votive candle while there and in it went to my handbag.

From Salem I returned the car, checked in and did my security disrobe ritual in record time. It was while I was waiting my turn for the delightful body scan that I remembered everything in my handbag that wasn't in the little plastic baggie and also worried that they would throw away my razor (it's a nice razor).

But none of that happened. My bags came out the other side with no issues. I reassembled everything (I did that in record time as well) and made my way to the gate.

And so, I got through security without properly packaging shampoo, conditioner and lotion in the little plastic baggie. I had a razor in my handbag, which could have been made into a weapon. I also had candle that could have very been a bomb of some sort and to top it all off I later discovered that I had a lighter.

I suppose I could take a relaxing candle-lit bath on the plane if I fancied, but I'd have to use the little sink in the toilet.

May 21, 2011: I'm looking forward to tomorrow because...

2011-05-20T23:24:00.007+01:00

1. I may wake up to a world inhabited by nothing but Godless heathens like myself. If that's the case then I shall enjoy my last five months on earth despite the horrid suffering I'm meant to endure. If there is a God and s/he would treat the diversity of the human race with such disdain and only allow a small minority of closed minded people into heaven, then heaven isn't a place I want to be anyway. So I'll just remain on the planet with all the cool party people, jam on my ukulele and we'll have a great time.

2. I may wake up to discover that I'm one of the chosen to fall into a pit and then be taken up to heaven. If that's the case then I know God is cool, has good taste in people and that all my friends, family and loved ones would be there. In fact if that's the case, then I'm willing to bet that heaven would be filled with fantastic people from all over the world, almost to the point of over crowding, but we'd all love it. Plus, there would be a special place for those of us to strum ukuleles instead of silly harps.

3. I may wake up to a day just like any other day. Frankly, those days aren't so bad. I rather like them. Bring 'em on! I think we should all live our days as if they are our last anyway.

Plus, tomorrow will be extra fun because Rapture or no, it's my friend, Jules's hen-do.

Yes indeed, I'm looking forward to May 21, 2011.

I'm Too Competitive for My Own Good

2011-05-04T11:59:00.005+01:00

For those of you who have been reading me for a while, you'll remember when I took part in (and won) The Biggest Loser contest at work. I wasn't extremely overweight to start with, but by the end of it I was nice and thin and felt good about how I looked. Of course since I saw myself as being pitted against another highly competitive colleague (who was so competitive he would put candy bars in our mail trays), I didn't lose the weight appropriately. In fact I was losing more than 2 pounds a week some weeks, which isn't good. But I won. I won. I won. And, it's winning that's important, right?

Well, the weight came back. And without the competition to spur me on, I wasn't so determined to lose it. I lost some of it, but I wasn't happy, nor was I consistent with my diet and exercise. Finally, I got disgusted with myself and decided I needed something to put me back on track, so I joined (gasp) Weight Watchers online.

So far it's been great. It's manageable and easy, the site has great recipes and advice and I was finally losing weight the right way. I lost 3 kilos in 4 weeks and was very near my goal. I was feeling good and had more energy and everything seemed rosy...until today.

Today people at work have decided to do another Biggest Loser contest again. Only £5 to enter this time, so the prize isn't as high. But my competitive side went nuts. "This isn't fair!" it screamed. "I've already lost weight. Now I won't be able to lose as much weight. I'm at a distinct disadvantage. I'll never be able to win now!!" I begged my friend and colleague, Em, who is organising all of this, to allow me to use my last weigh in weight but she refused. Grrrr...

And so, I marched myself down to our cafeteria and bought the most fattening thing I could find, pasta carbonara, plus a chocolate chip cookie. Then upon discovering that there were cup cakes in our faculty lounge, I ate two. Now I feel sick, but I won't let that stop me.

Tonight I'm going out for pizza and leaving drinks for my friend, Marianne, who is off to do her Free Range Human thing for a few months. I will eat loads of pizza. I will eat a fattening dessert. I will drink high calorie fru fru cocktails. And tomorrow I will continue to eat and eat and eat. So hopefully by Friday I will have put back on those 3 kilos and can start over. I am a sick sick puppy. Move over Monica Geller-Bing, your competitive streak pales in comparison to mine!

But this time I will keep the weight off. I plan on staying on Weight Watchers until Jan 2012. This will be my last Biggest Loser challenge. No matter what happens in this competition, I will be a healthy winner by this time next year.

The Death of Two Friendships

2011-04-21T17:33:00.006+01:00

As a teacher of adolescents I often end up teaching pastoral lessons about choosing healthy friendships over unhealthy ones, peer pressure and the like. However, those lessons all are so simple and black-and-white in comparison with the complexities that seem to be the reality of adult friendships. I’m not talking about the easily identifiable dysfunctional friendships. I’m speaking of the healthy ones that just seem to go wrong, have run their course and die.

I was prompted to write this blog because I’ve had two friends discuss friendship difficulties with me in the last few days. A good friend got in touch with me this morning and told me about how he had just discovered that one of his friends had been lying to him for the past six months. And another friend complained to me last week about how she feels like she is receiving a brush off from a mutual friend of ours in what seems to be an almost rude and very deliberate manner. So, in the first case the friendship ending was pretty clear-cut, but in the other case it’s a bit nebulous.

However a friendship ends, in my opinion, it’s worse than a romantic break-up. You expect friends to be there for you and stand by you a bit more than you might expect romantic relationships to…well at least I do. So, when a friendship ends that sense of betrayal and wondering if it was something you did that caused it to die is even more intense. When you realise it’s all gone wrong, how do you end a friendship?

When I have a non-responsive friend, I tend to operate on the “three strikes and you’re out” rule. I’ll make the effort to suggest we meet up and if I get no definitive response after my third attempt, I do my best to not take it personally and just stop trying. Usually said person will get in touch with me eventually and all will be well again. However, in the case of my friend who felt like she was being ignored, she has not just given our mutual friend three strikes; she has given her six. So my friend will not be contacting our mutual friend at all any more and I can’t really say that I blame her. They have had issues in the past and it’s plain that the one who is doing the ignoring has not really gotten past their prior difficulties. So, in that case it might be best to just let that friendship die a natural death. Perhaps it’s just run its course.

When you discover a friend’s been lying to you or has been dishonest in some way that is when you feel the deepest sense of betrayal. There’s nothing much to do but confront that person about what they’ve done and hope that they can offer a reasonable explanation for their behaviour. That is exactly what the first friend I mentioned had to do today. Sadly the explanation wasn’t sufficient and so now he says that friendship is over. What he went through this morning must have been awful. Then again, I hate confrontation and he’s much better at that than I am. Sometimes certain friendships need to be killed quickly and as painlessly as possible.

So perhaps those two friendships are dead, but perhaps not. There’s a great quote by Bronwyn Polson which says, “Whoever says friendship is easy has obviously never had a true friend!” Thus, I remain an eternal optimist about the immortality of friendships, because frankly true friendships are immortal. Those that aren’t true will die when their time has come in whatever manner that is. But, true friends are like the mythical phoenix. They may have their difficulties causing them to burn-up in flames but they are always reborn even more beautiful than they were before.

And it is here that I would like to say that I think I’m the luckiest woman in the world due to the true friendships I am fortunate enough to have.

Remember when...

2011-04-13T21:47:00.001+01:00

"Remember when teachers, public employees, planned Parenthood, NPR, and PBS crashed the stock market, wiped out our 401ks, took trillions in TARP money, spilled oil in the Gulf of Mexico, gave themselves billions in bonuses, and paid no taxes? Yeah, me neither."

I saw this on a friend's Facebook status and felt compelled to post it here. When I read things like this, I'm quite pleased I no longer live in the US. Not to say that Great Britain is a whole lot better than the US, with the Tories in power running wild destroying essential services with their budget cutting scissors. However, there doesn't seem to be th outrageous hate filled lies used to attack people and services that work for the public good. Instead, the government here unapologetically states it simply must be done.

Who Nose?

2011-03-18T21:12:00.004Z

So if you came to my class today, you would have thought my students were perhaps a little odd. Here are some phrases I heard more than once today:
"Whose nose is this?"
"There's a nose alone on that table and I think it's Tom's"
"Has anyone seen my nose? It's a monster one."
"Watch out! That's my nose on the floor; don't step on it!"
"May I use some sellotape? My nose tore and I'm trying to fix it."
"Miss, he took my nose."
"Miss, I lost my nose. Have you seen it? It's a nerd one."

And you might have also thought that perhaps I was a little odd, as I said the following things today:
"Who threw that nose? Please return it to its proper owner."
"If your noses are going to disrupt this lesson, I will have to put them in the 'Drawer of No-Return.' Don't worry. No noses were harmed in the teaching of my lessons.

Yes today was Red Nose Day and my school took part in various fund raising activities for Comic Relief, including selling and wearing red noses.

I'm proud to say that the middle school raised £742.31, €7.00, 1 US quarter and 1 Canadian penny. We are an international school based in London, after all.

Political Commentary from Mom and Dad

2011-03-14T22:49:00.002Z

Tonight was the first time I had spoken with my parents in weeks. Actually to be honest, I think it was more than a month. Anyway, I asked them about all the union busting and general nastiness happening in Wisconsin as well as other states. We spoke about that for a while and then they summed up the workings of the Republicans and the Democrats in the following manner:

My dad: The problem is that Republicans really don't have a voice of their own. They are lead by Fox News and Rush Limbaugh and are too afraid to do anything that might go against them. So, they wind up behaving like idiots.

My mom: And the Democrats don't have a strong singular voice because they're like cats...or Unitarians.

We all laughed.

My parents are Unitarians...and generally vote Democrat.

Pear and Raspberry Loaf Cake

2011-03-12T15:33:00.005Z

Life's been a bit topsy turvy and I've been a bit distracted and perhaps not really myself, but I'm still baking. Last week I took a recipe I found online and modified it. It was quite yummy. Here is the result:

Pear and Raspberry Loaf Cake

Ingredients:

Filling
2 medium pears, peeled and cored, chopped
1/4 raspberries (preferably frozen and thawed so that there is a bit of juice to accompany them)

Crumble
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup light brown sugar, packed
4 ounces butter, cold, cut in small pieces
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/3 cup chopped pecans

Cake
2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1/2 cup milk, whole or low fat
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
4 ounces butter, melted

Preparation:

Grease and flour a 9x5x3-inch loaf pan. Preheat oven to 350°. (Gas mark 4)

Toss chopped pears with lemon juice in a bowl; set aside.

In another bowl, combine crumble ingredients, except pecans, with a fork or whisk until crumbly (of course because it's a crumble), or pulse with food processor. You can also pulse with a hand held mixer. Stir in pecans, if using.

In a mixing bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking powder and salt; stir to blend.

Whisk eggs in a mixing bowl until blended; stir in milk, vanilla, and butter. Add to flour mixture and fold with a wooden spoon or spatula just until dry ingredients are moistened. Do not over mix. Spoon half of the batter into prepared loaf pan; spread out to cover the bottom. Sprinkle batter with half of the pears and half of the crumble. Spoon remaining batter evenly over crumble, spreading carefully to cover. Sprinkle with half of the remaining crumble, the remaining chopped pears and then the remaining crumble.

Bake for 70 to 90 minutes, or until a wooden pick inserted into centre of cake comes out clean. Cool in pan on a wire rack for 10 minutes. Run a knife carefully around sides; invert the cake onto plate. Turn the cake, crumble side up, onto a rack and let cool on a rack completely.

It makes a yummy (and one could argue slight nutritious) breakfast...at least that was my justification to eat it every morning.

So lately I've found myself wondering...

2011-01-29T00:38:00.004Z

…what if I stood just a little too far over the yellow line? What if I stumbled and fell in front of the train on the Central Line as it came barrelling down the track to scoop up all of us who are shuffling off to the daily grind? Would it hurt very much or would it just be over in a painless second? Aside from the yellow line, there isn't much to separate humans from being insects on the windscreen of a car at the end of the day… or in this case at the beginning

I think this is where I should probably reassure you that I am not pondering throwing myself in front of a train. First, I’ve all too often had my commute fucked up by someone who decided that his/her life wasn’t worth living so they edged out over that yellow line. Second, I have had one too many people I care about choose to voluntarily end their lives, so I know how horrible it feels to wonder if there’s something I could have done to prevent that. Third, I can’t bear to think about how my students would feel about me choosing to end my life prematurely. How many ‘inspirational’ speeches/stories have I made encouraging them to be successful and happy beings by their own definition? So, I don’t push myself over the edge. However, is it only guilt of how my deliberate stumble would affect others that keeps me on the right side of the yellow line?

There’s nothing in my life I can really moan about to be fair. I have a group of great friends. I do interesting things. I have a good job and make decent money. I am in good health (as far as I know). I may be thousands of miles away from my family, but we remain quite close. I see the good and humour in everything and I laugh a lot… a lot. I’m forever making jokes when I probably shouldn’t. But, it makes other people laugh too, or at least smile, so I carry on.

My love life has not been the best, but it’s nothing for me to despair over. I am not attached to anyone presently and in all honesty, I’ve only ever been in love twice. The first time happened over twenty years ago and ended rather tragically with his death and me thinking I could never love again. The second time was much more recent but didn’t work out. We’re now good friends. Neither of these men felt the same way towards me as I did towards them, but they did (and one still does) care about me quite deeply, just not enough to stay with me romantically. Somehow that doesn’t really feel like I’ve loved and lost. More like I loved and drew.

I’m probably too old to have biological children, which is something I do regret quite a bit. I’ve always loved children, thus my choice of career, and have always wanted to have my own. However, that just doesn’t seem to be in the cards, but it is certainly not worth throwing myself in front of a train.

So, I’m not certain why but a strangely macabre thought has danced through my brain as I stand and wait to be carried away each morning. Just as I feel the breath of the train just before the shadow of its lights oozes out of the darkness of the tunnel, I find myself wondering, “What if I stood just a little too far over the yellow line? What if I stumbled and fell in front of the train?"

Don’t worry. I plan on staying firmly put. I’m just curious how much it would hurt if I didn't.

Mutant Baby Guppy-not your average fish story

2010-12-04T18:25:00.002Z

When I was in ten I had the world’s meanest teacher, Mrs. Vanderwilt. I did not make that up; that was her name. She had a face that was wrinkled like a wilted flower and not once in the entire school year did I ever see her crack a smile. However, she had a kind side that emerged in June when she announced that, with our parents’ permission, we could take one of the class guppies home. During some of the dullest lessons, I had stared at the aquarium, which held the guppies, envying their simple life as I struggled through multiplying fractions. I was thrilled that one of these little creatures could become one of my own.

I ran home that day, went up to my room and began to prepare my case by writing down all the reasons why I should have one of these fish as a pet. Then, I volunteered to help with dinner and offered to do the dishes and take out the trash. I was even nice to my little brother. When my family was all settled around the dinner table, I pulled out my list and mounted my attack. This wouldn’t be easy. My mother was adamantly anti-pet, but she was mostly anti-mess-up-the-house-and-eat-your-sofa-pets. Thus, I knew that the fact that this little fish couldn’t sink its teeth into a piece of furniture or poop on the floor was to my advantage. I cited the guppy’s tidy existence as my first reason to have it and then listed all the responsibilities I would have caring for my little friend. I was on reason number four when my mother sighed, “Stop.”

“Yes?” I looked up cautiously from my well-prepared document.

“I’m not touching that tank and those things stink if not cleaned regularly.”

“It would be my fish, so it would be my job,” I looked at her with pleading eyes. “I’ll clean it regularly. I promise.” She looked at my father as if she were hoping he’d object. He didn’t.

“Oh, okay,” she sighed.

That night we prepared. My mother wrote a note to Mrs. Vanderwilt, got out an old Cool Whip container and I punched holes in the lid. Then I remembered that it was a fish and probably didn’t need air like maybe a butterfly would, but I felt better knowing that I was looking out for the welfare of my new charge already. We made a list of the things we would need from the pet store and then I went to bed despite the fact that I was too excited to sleep. I tossed and turned and thought of all the names that would be begin with G. Its name would have to begin with G. It was a guppy after all. Of course I didn't really know it's sex, but made an assumption. After careful consideration I decided on what I thought was a rather unique guppy name, George.

The next day was the last day of school and I skipped home merrily, but carefully, with George in my container. From there my mother took me straight to the pet store where we got a fish bowl, food, rocks for the bottom, a little net and decorations so George would feel at home. I then carefully placed George in his new environment and he swam about to get used to his new quarters. I fed him and he ate voraciously. “Don’t over feed him,” the man at the pet store had warned, “Most fish don’t get full and they can get ill by eating too much.”

The next two weeks went by smoothly. I have to admit that I despised changing the water in George’s fish bowl every four days, but my room smelled horrid if I didn’t. George didn’t like it when I cleaned his tank either. When he saw the net approach his sanctuary, he would try to swim in to a corner to escape it but he never could. Then, he would flop about like mad when lifted from the comfort of his water. On a few occasions he jumped right out of the net and bounced around on the floor until I was eventually able to scoop him back up. Each time, I thought for sure he was a goner. He never was. George was tough.

One morning George surprised me. He had babies. There in the bowl were 17 small, tadpole looking creatures with George, whose name could no longer be George. From then out, I called her Mama Guppy.

There was a reason Mama Guppy had 17 babies, survival. Sadly every morning I was scooping another deceased fry, as baby guppies are technically called, out of the bowl. I was very careful to feed them exactly the right amount of food, but the baby guppies that did not eat quickly enough soon perished. Slowly but surely their numbers diminished. Out of the original seventeen only the three fastest eaters survived and grew. Well actually only two grew. One ate faster than the rest but only his eyes became adult size and seemed to bulge out of his body, which remained almost the same size it had been at birth. He was more like a swimming pair of bulging eyes with a tail than a fish. At first I called him Runt, then Runty, but eventually I gave him a name much more fitting, Mutant Baby Guppy.

Mama Guppy did not live long after the birth of her offspring, so we gave her a proper burial in my mother’s flower garden. I didn’t expect Mutant Baby Guppy to live much longer after his mother went on, but he did. Every morning I would wake up, rush to the bowl to check on my fish and be relieved to count three-well, technically two and a half. Mutant Baby Guppy had to be some type of fish miracle. Despite his small size Mutant Baby Guppy was a fast swimmer and often out ate his siblings, who didn’t dare mess with him probably because they were intimidated by the fishy stare of his humongous eyes. I often wondered if his large eyes gave him some type of guppy super power that allowed him to see every spec of food and plot his strategy for eating. Although I tried to be a perfect mother and love all three fry equally, I had a special place in my heart for Mutant Baby Guppy.

That summer was not the typically hot summer that Michigan usually had and on more than one occasion I was stuck inside because of cold, rainy weather. So, I was happier than usual then when the Larsons came to stay with us. The Larsons were like family and had two boys who were just a year younger than both my brother and me. Scott, who was closer to my age, was just as fascinated as I was with Mutant Baby Guppy. He watched me with envy as I fed my fish and cleaned my tank. One particularly gray, drizzly morning, I was in a rush to leave for my swimming lesson. As I was gathering my things, I realized that I had forgotten to feed my fish. I started back up the stairs to my room, but Scott stopped me. “Don’t worry. I’ll feed them,” he offered.

“Thanks,” I replied and dashed off.

When I returned home after my lesson, my mother greeted me at the door. Just beyond her stood Scott with his head hung down. “Honey,” she said gently, “I’m afraid I have some bad news.” I said nothing and just looked at her puzzled. She sat me down on the stairs and put her arm around me. “Scott was only trying to help, so please don’t be angry at him.” She went on to explain that Scott had fed the fish just a little like he was meant to, but they seemed to be hungry so he fed them a little more and then a little more and so on. My fish with the endless appetites ate and ate and ate, so Scott continued feeding them until he accidentally filled the top of the bowl with half of the contents of the fish food container. He called for my mother, who upon seeing the thick layer of fish food floating on the surface of the water tried to scoop it out. But, it was too late. Much of the food had sunk to the bottom and settled among the green rocks. My fish continued to eat and eat until eventually they rolled over with their bellies pointing at the ceiling and ate no more.

That afternoon we had a special ‘guppy cremation ceremony’. Well it wasn’t exactly a real cremation as there was no fire, only the gushing waters of the toilet as it swept my three fry out to sea. I was sad but I knew they were in guppy heaven with Mama Guppy and their smaller brothers and sisters. They were my very first pets and I shall never ever forget them, especially Mutant Baby Guppy.

An Annual Review of Myself by Me

2010-12-02T23:11:00.003Z

Last year I made 10 resolutions since we were entering a decade, so as a new year approaches I am taking a moment to review and evaluate my 10 little goals.

Goal: I will take better care of my plants.
Assessment: Errr... they are still alive...well most of them at least.

Goal: I will buy a new electric kettle to replace my broken one and make coffee at home instead of buying pricey lattes.
Assessment: Kettle was purchased. It's actually kind of sexy. Is it wrong for me to think of a kettle as sexy?

Goal: I will make more and buy less.
Assessment: I have done this a bit, but it needs improvement. I am, however, shopping smarter so that's a start.

Goal: I will keep a tidier flat.
Assessment: I moved to a house and have a housemate. We're both pretty tidy, but my room is not a neat as it could be.

Goal: I will set aside at least 30 minutes five times a week to write for my own purpose. It does not necessarily follow that I'll be blogging more, but I do intend to take my writing a bit more seriously than I have done in the past.
Assessment: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah
Yeah, that didn't happen.

Goal: I will cook more and eat out or get takeaways less. When doing this I will endeavour to be healthy in my meal choices.
Assessment: Not bad. Moving out of Surbiton and away from the kebab place that was so near to my house has helped this immensely. I also started to see a nutritionist.

Goal: I will work out at least 3 times a week for one hour.
Assessment: For the first part of year I did really well at this. However, I haven't had a proper work out for the last 3 months.

Goal: I will put less effort into obvious superficial friendships and put more effort into the real and lasting ones.
Assessment: Achieved and I repaired one and made it a true friendship.

Goal:I will not repeat old mistakes. I know what I'm talking about here. That's all that matters.
Assessment:I did exceptionally well for most of the year with one slip-up in the middle, but to be honest that wasn't a mistake as much as it was a learning experience.

Goal:I will set my finances in order so I can buy a place. I hate thinking about this stuff, but I need to and I need to do it now.
Assessment: I am still trying to figure out how to pay for my citizenship fee. However, I have significantly decreased the amount of debt I have.

So, not bad overall but not great either. Next year I resolve to not make any resolutions.

Shelving Journals

2010-11-28T22:12:00.002Z

I'm currently reading Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Stroud. It's a collection of short stories linked together by a woman, Olive Kitteridge, who appears mostly as a minor or extra character in each story. In the "The Piano Player" one of the characters (not Olive) has this to say about love. "You couldn't make yourself stop feeling a certain way, no matter what the other person did. You just had to wait. Eventually the feeling went away because others came along. Or sometimes it didn't go away but got squeezed into something tiny, and hung like a piece of tinsel in the back of your mind."

It is perhaps the most liberating and empowering feeling to realise that you're falling out of love with someone or that you have completely fallen completely out of love with said person.

Of course it's not obvious when you've reached that point. In fact often you don't notice it until a few days have passed and it strikes you that you have ceased to think of someone who previously occupied your daily thoughts. Or, maybe it's simply the way you react to something the object of your affection does, or more precisely the way you don't react, as whatever it was s/he did that would normally affect you no longer moves you in one way or another. Whatever it is that makes you realise those amorous feelings have gone, it is, as I said, quite liberating.

However, I don't really think of these past loves as being smooshed into small bits of tinsel to be hung in the back of my mind. No, instead they are like journals that are filled up with stories of happy times and anguish from when you were in love. All the unrealised hopes, dreams and wishes for that relationship scribed onto the pages by hand until finally there are no pages left because there is simply nothing more to write about.

And then they go on to the shelf and sit. Every now and again you open up those diaries and reminisce, but seldom do new pages get added. The story is over, but no matter what you never...ever...ever throw them away.

Thus, I'd have to say that 2010 was the year of shelving some very thick journals. And yes. It was quite liberating.

Dear Universe

2010-08-09T16:59:00.001+01:00

Dear Universe,

When I say I wish to remain in the area where I'm on holiday and not return to my life in the real world, you should not take me literally and do things like delay my flight by several hours or cause a volcano to explode. Just get me home safely and I'll deal with my life. However, please take my wishes to be independently wealthy and fall in love with a decent man seriously. Then maybe I'll actually want to return to reality.

Thank you very much,

H~

I'm Angry about Being Angry

2010-06-09T23:20:00.003+01:00

I'm tired. It's late. I'll be brief. This isn't a post I'm going to tweet about. I'm not saying anything important. It's just a vent.

Every morning I wake up, get down from my little nest and make certain the news downloads to my phone so I can read it on the tube. (My own little rebellion for the tons of paper commuters here in the Big Smoke waste daily on their periodicals) Then I sprint to my stop (my morning exercise) and read what's been downloaded while tube surfing to Waterloo and that's when I become enraged.

My blood boils each time I read about the Gulf Oil spill. I want to scream and yell and throw things. Maybe it's due to the fact that the company that's f@cking up the beauty of the gulf from the country I'm from is a company from the country where I am now a permanent resident and will soon be a citizen.

I'm sickened and there has only been one occasion where the news about the gulf has actually looked promising.

The fact that I get so angry about this spill every day and it doesn't look to be ending soon really pisses me off.

There rant over. I'm going to bed.

Does being alone mean you are lonely?

2010-05-29T15:06:00.008+01:00

About a week ago I saw this article in the Evening Standard. The article highlighted a statistic from the 2001 census stating that 33% of people in the UK are single and went on to say, "That's a lot of potentially lonely people out there — and the problem is only going to get worse." It then went on to talk about loneliness and the break down of social cohesion in our modern society.

  I decided to google "Are single people happier than married people?" and found studies that say yes and studies that say no. There seems to be a lot of disagreement on the subject. So of course I am now going to tell you what I think.

I agree that despite the 2 million ways we now have to communicate people are more isolated from each other than ever before, but I think it's rubbish to imply that simply because you are single you are lonely.   I have been single for quite some time now and I don't consider myself a lonely person. My family even lives thousands of miles away from me and yet I still don't feel alone. I have friends and now a housemate in addition to a variety of engaging activities that keep me busy. When I am actually home alone, as I am now, I don't feel any less happy than when I am with someone.  

That being said, I would like to be in a long and lasting relationship, but I'm not at all unhappy nor feel lonely since I am not. In addition I know people who are in relationships and feel quite alone and are unhappy. Fear of actually being alone keeps them where they are despite the constant loneliness they experience in their unhappy relationships. Sometimes they even have affairs, taking on even more partners, to escape the loneliness they feel. Fact is that these are the truly lonely people and they aren't single, but if they were single they would be lonely. At the end of the day, a person's marital status isn't an indicator of how lonely they may be.  Plus, lonely single people aren't the sole reason for the lack of community cohesion nor are they a result of that. There are a variety of factors that contribute to people feeling isolated but I'm not going to being to spout all of what I think they are here. Time is ticking and I need to get ready to join my community of peers and enjoy the cheesiness that is the Eurovision Song Contest.

See, I'm not lonely at all.

I'm Connected Again!

2010-05-16T18:21:00.004+01:00

Let me tell you how disconcerting it is to be disconnected when you're a social network junkie like me. But, I'm back. We have internet in the house and so I'm back and connected again.

Oh and I'm all moved and settled. I love it here in East London. This move was probably one of the best things I've done, only to be surpassed by moving to London to begin with.

Life is good.

I literally stumbled home last night, however. I turned my ankle walking home from the tube after a lovely evening out with friends. It bloody hurt at the time and since I had imbibed a bit, I knew that wasn't a good thing. I hobbled all the way home and today I'm in with my foot up on a pillow with ice on it instead of going to the Columbia Road Flower Market as I had planned. I was also planning on going to the gym tomorrow, but I think now I may give that a miss.

Oh well, anyway it's good to be back- and hey, now I again can tell you about the insignificant details of my my life. Whoop!

And here for your visual pleasure is a picture of the new house.

You're kidding right?

2010-04-24T08:24:00.010+01:00

There's about to be a historic election in Britain, thousands of people are still stranded and trying to get home thanks to last week's ashcolypse and yet this is what the Daily Mail has as its front page story:

With everything else in the world the Daily Mail has decided that wheelie bins are the enemy of everyday families. Not financial ruin due to unethical business practices of certain lending and investing institutions, but wheelie bins. God forbid you have to put yourself out by separating your rubbish and then put the bins in front of your house one day a week! Surely this is an infringement on our civil liberties!!!

This is an ongoing assault that the Mail has launched against a necessary recycling scheme. As usual instead of reporting real news that is going on in the world, the Daily Mail is furthering their right-wing political agenda. Fortunately for the Mail a majority of their readers are simple minded consumers who believe whatever crap the Mail tells them is important or true. Unfortunately for the rest of us there are far too many readers who take the Daily Mail seriously.

Okay rant over. Back to packing up my flat.

When it rains it pours...or is that leaks?

2010-04-22T16:53:00.006+01:00

I'm home! I was one of the first people to get home thanks to the fact that my flight to the UK was one of the first ones to be cancelled. My route home, however, had me on three different flights, took me through Montreal and was 22 hours from door-to-door. I wasn't able to sleep on the flight or at any other time on my journey no matter how hard I tried. But, it was a darn good thing I got home when I did.

When I walked into the living room, I was greeted by a horrifying sight. At some point in my extended absence the upstairs flat had begun to leak water into my flat through the ceiling and had soaked the chair and rug underneath it. Fortunately, all my electronics are situated on the other side of the room.

This must have occurred in the last few days. Kate, my downstairs neighbour, had popped in on Monday or Tuesday to water my plants and hadn't noticed anything. The soaked chair and rug were pretty damn obvious! My friend, Mark, owns the flat upstairs and lets it out. However, he's currently on holiday with his family in Thailand. Fortunately, one of the tenants who lives in the flat upstairs was home so we ran some tests and discovered the leak was coming from the shower.

So, I sent Mark some emails and called my landlords. Then Mark called back and my landlords came over. We determined that it was only the shower that was causing my living room waterfall. After a bunch of back and forth communication between my landlord, Mark's tenant and Mark in Thailand, it was decided that Mark's tenants are going to take baths as that is not causing the leak for a week until Mark gets back and can fix the problem. He's pretty sure he knows what pipe it is and is quite the DIY aficionado.

And that was my morning. I had planned to take a quick nap but that obviously didn't happen. In addition to all this, I also managed to make some phone calls and was able to push my move date back by a week before collapsing in a heap.

Thus concludes my homecoming-and now I'm going to take a long hot bath.

That Ol' Mice and Men Saying

2010-04-16T02:55:00.005+01:00

Careful what you wish for...

I've had a most beautiful time here in the US. My grandmother turned 90 and we had a week of celebrations. My uncle and aunt and brother came to Asheville where my parents and grandmother live. We ate and drank, did some sight seeing, visited and ate and drank some more. We probably ate and drank too much to be fair. My clothes certainly don't seem to fit the same way that they did when I arrived. To top it all off the weather was brilliant- 75F (24C) for the better part of the week more or less. Life was good and I dreaded what I was to return to in London-hurried packing up of my flat and a strenuous work week on top of that. I wished wished wished that I could stay a little longer...oops.

Thank you, Eyjafjallajokull. Now I'm here not for one day longer, not two, not three-nope. SIX! I'm here for six days longer. This means that I won't be able to pack up my flat to move by the following Saturday. Plus, during a very important part of being ready for my school's accreditation, I'm here. I'm helpless and there's not a whole lot I can do about it.

So for the next week I will be trying to rearrange and arrange things in the UK so that my students will have lesson plans, my department will have an organised curriculum with all of our ducks in a row for accreditation and my flat will be packed to move next weekend. The way I had it planned it was all going to go smoothly, now I'm not so sure.

Tomorrow, however, I will wake up, go for a walk with my mother and then bask in the 80F (27C) temperatures- that is after I make a few more phone calls to rearrange and arrange details.

I'm now dreading returning to London even more than I was originally. But, it will all get done...somehow.

You gotta admit it's ironic that I'm stuck in Asheville due to an ash cloud.

Ch ch ch ch CHANGES!! (To be sung to the song of the same title by Mr Bowie)

2010-04-07T11:10:00.002+01:00

Holy moly!

I'm moving. Actually leaving my lovely flat where I have been for 6 whole years and headed to the East End. I've been wanting to do this for years and now it's done and accomplished! After a journey of looking at houses and then deciding I should live on my own, we got the house we wanted. It also happened to be the very first one we saw. Whoop! I'll be an EastEnder in 3 weeks. Oh and ironically, the house my friend, Carolina, and I are moving to is right by a pub called The Queen Victoria. Look out Mitchells, you'll have a new punter in me.

In addition, the other night I made one of the best (but most difficult) decisions I've ever made. It started off in a rather stupid manner on my part. I picked a fight with a friend which was unjustified. He definitely did not deserve my tipsy tirade. However, it led to a conversation about why we were still friends after five years of rather complicated and sometimes dysfunctional relations. He said, "No idea, habit I guess." And that's when I knew it was finally time to call it all a day.

This isn't the first time I've tried to sever ties with him, but this time I went on to burn bridges so there would be no turning back for me. Address book->DELETE, MSN->DELETE, YAHOO Messenger->DELETE, Facebook->DELETE, LastFM->DELETE, Twitter->Stop Following, MySpace->DELETE and then I realised that I was linked up on here to both a blog where he posted a piece I'd written and a podcast I did with him. I have now unlinked those from my blog despite the fact it is my work and I should proudly show it off. Oh well. Finally, I put the nail in the coffin by posting about all this. He strongly disagrees about blogging for emotional purposes and we've had a long discussion about that in the past. If he reads this, which he may or may not do, I have no doubt that any temptation he might have had to contact me will be completely quashed.

I hold no ill will against this person. I care for him deeply and sincerely wish him well. It's just better for both of us if we're not in each other's lives any more.

Endings bring new beginnings. I'm moving to a new place. I'm meeting new people and I'm clearing out the old to make room for all this to happen.

Bake Myself Thin...

2010-02-14T09:52:00.007Z

I absolutely love to bake and very recently acquired The Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook . I've made a few delicious cakes so far and there is ever so much more to be tried. But alas, I'm trying to lose some weight. Although I always give most of what I bake away, to be constantly creating treats to tempt me is not conducive to dropping a few pounds.

If you have been reading my blog for a while then you know about The Biggest Loser contest we did at work over a year ago. Being a loser made me a winner but then I proceeded to gain the weight back again. The competition with a fellow colleague was my impetus to stick with diet and exercise for three months but after the contest was over, I returned to my old ways and with those ways came the pounds I had lost.

So, I decided to create a new type of competition... with myself. I plan on using my love of baking to 'bake myself thin'. I created a system whereby I will earn points for good behaviour and lose points for bad behaviour. My reward will be the ability to make lovely treats to share and of course I will be able to sample the treats I bake.

Thus my plan. Only after earning 60 points will I be able to make something from the cookbook.

1. I will weigh in every Friday that I am at school and record my weight. A few other colleagues still do this since the BL contest and being part of it will help. (3 points each time I weigh in)

2. I will log everything I eat into Livestrong.com daily and stay within my calorie goal.
(1 point for logging in and recording, 3 points for logging in and staying within the goal)

3. I will exercise for at least 45 minutes- gym, cycle, running or something along those lines. I will also record this on Livestrong.com
(3 points for each time I exercise and record it)

4. The only thing I can buy from the school cafeteria is salad, soup, bread (roll) and fruit. (-5 if anything more)

5. With the exception of Friday Treats, I may not eat any sweets that are in the staff room. Healthy snacks are okay but must be logged.
(-5 points for every time I eat staff room sweets)

6. On a school night if I go out in the evening I can only have 1 drink.
(-3 points for every drink I have over one)

7. Finally, once I am able to bake something must record it with the calories and must give most of it away. No points of this- just a rule.

I will start tomorrow, keep this up until May and then decide if I should continue or not. I'm already planning on what I'll bake after earning my first 60 points. Yum! Of course I'll update on my progress at points here if you are interested.

And now I'm hungry and must eat something.

My Thoughts on iTrust

2010-01-20T06:04:00.011Z

A little piece in the Guardian yesterday caught my eye and the concept has been rattling around my head since.

There is now an iPhone app called "iTrust" which is designed to keep people from reading their partner’s emails. According to the article the application was written by 26 year-old Bob Nerberg from Oslo with help from his girlfriend. He insists that it will make relationships stronger and says, "It's something everybody thinks about in a relationship – is my partner reading my texts and emails? Now you can be sure."

What???

So what type of relationship does Bob Nerberg have with his girlfriend? Okay, I don't want to know that or really care to conjecture. But what does downloading this application really say about you and your relationship?

This application is great if you are a cheating philanderer or involved in any other dodgy type of business that you want to keep secret from your partner. Now I'm not saying that you should be open to your partner about EVERYTHING. It is, after all, rather nice to keep some sense of mystery in a relationship. But, aren't relationships meant to be established on trust? If you really feel that you must hide something from your partner because it may hurt them and/or possibly ruin your relationship, then you need to re-examine yourself and your motives not download an application that assists your unscrupulous ways.

This application is great if you don't trust your partner or are paranoid in general. If you are convinced that your partner is reading your texts, checking your Facebook account, etc., then by all means download this application. It will confirm one of two things: 1) your partner is a snooping busybody who either doesn't trust you or is out to get you or 2) you are troubled person with such an overinflated sense of self-importance you actually believe that people (your partner in particular) care enough about your business to read through your personal messages.

In a solid, healthy relationship you would have nothing to hide from your partner and would trust that they won't look through your phone without your knowledge.

So if you're in an unhealthy relationship, by all means download this application. It will make the dishonesty and lack of trust in your relationship even stronger and you can live unhappily every after.

One thing "iTrust" as confirmed for me is that I wouldn't ever want to date Bob Nerberg.

Internet Dating and Job Hunting: The Same Techniques May Yield Successful Results

2010-01-10T23:21:00.011Z

About five months ago I was sitting in my friend Marianne's garden relaying my tale of woe about the current state of my love life. "Have you thought about a dating web site?" she asked me. I groaned. Had I thought about a dating web site? I'd been there, done that and now owned a few tee-shirts. I really didn't want to go there again. "You should give it another go if only just to realise that there are loads of men out there and to get out of your rut." And with that she took my hand, dragged me into the house and sat me down in front of her computer.

It is here that I should mention that Marianne is a career coach and a damn good one too. She writes an informative and entertaining blog about making career changes and runs her own coaching business. As we sat in front of her computer with her giving me advice on how to create a profile that captured the essence of me and was tailored to finding my ideal man, Marianne kept chuckling and pointing out how this was very similar to what she does for a living. Then it hit me. Internet dating is a lot like job hunting and frankly you'd rather be in the perfect job than out there looking it for it. So maybe the key to finding the right person online is to approach your search in the same manner you would when looking for the perfect job.

1. Your CV (that's resume for my fellow Americans)
When you're looking for a specific job- that perfect job- you want a CV that stands out among all the rest and shows off your skills, experience and even in some cases your personality so your future employer notices you, wants to know more about you and contacts you for an interview. (As an aside Marianne has written a great blog post on CV and cover letter writing.) This is just the same as an internet dating profile. You want to show off how great you are without boasting and at the same time you don't want to ramble on in great detail about yourself. That will just bore any prospects. Why would they want to know more about you if you tell them everything straight away?

You want your profile to reflect the best side of you, so for pity's sake CHECK YOUR GRAMMAR! This is just as important in internet dating as it is in job searching. If you use text speak in your profile, you will come across as lazy. If your profile is riddled with grammar errors that any primary student can spot, you will look illiterate. Do you want a lazy and illiterate partner? I don't.

Put up a few nice photos. This is a must and is an area where a dating profile is different than a CV. You want at least one nice attractive photo of yourself up there. Profiles without photos usually do not get noticed. Choose your picture honestly as well. Don't select a picture taken ten years ago when you were two stone lighter, but instead choose one that was taken within the last two years. If you end up on a date looking significantly older than or nothing like your profile pictures, at the very least your date might not completely trust you and at the worst no longer find you attractive.

Remember that it is also YOU who's looking to 'hire' someone. What type of profile grabs your attention? What type turns you off? Apply these preferences to the profile you're creating. At the end of the day we want a partner who compliments our personality and is drawn to the same things that interest us. If you don't want to read your own profile, who else will?

2. The Cover Letter
So you think you've found your perfect match online and want to make contact? This is just the same as finding the right job and wanting to be selected for an interview. Make your contact and make it personal. This is the same advice Marianne gives to job hunters about writing cover letters. You don't want to be the typical introduction email or you will just be set aside in the same way employers will bin letters and CV's that are just a repetition of the status quo. I once received a long introduction message that read as if it could have been copied and pasted and sent to many women at once. A friend of mine was on the same site and received the exact same message from the same man. Needless to say, neither of us got back to him and we had a good laugh about it. Really read the person's profile and say something directed towards them, about them and go beyond the trite, "I enjoyed reading your profile and think we have a lot in common." Mentioning a common interest or playing on their sense of humour is a good start. You want give them an intriguing taste of who you are so they will want to know more about you. However, don't be too wordy. Again, you don't want to bore your potential date or give too much away about yourself in one go. If you are the one making the first contact, your introduction message is meant to have your readers want to go back and look at your profile and your profile is meant to leave those readers wanting to know even more about you.

Oh and again you're putting your best face forward here, CHECK YOUR GRAMMAR!

3. The Interview
So you've made contact, spoken a bit and now it's time for that first date. First dates and job interviews are very similar and if you're a naturally introverted person, both job interviews and blind dates can be horribly intimidating. Marianne has yet another terrific blog post about introverts and interviews. One of the keys to success in an interview is preparation and that goes for first dates as well. Re-read your date's profile. Think of some interesting questions that would stimulate conversation and allow you to discover more about your date. However, before you even get to the point of having a first date with someone be sure that you really want to be having that first date with that someone. Get to know them a bit. Exchange a few emails and chat on the phone. Granted some people are not good on the phone and you might not be either, but speaking before your date can give you a good idea of what the date might be like. So give them a ring just to confirm the date and you can at least hear the sound of their voice. In the end the more you know about the person you've just met online, the more relaxed you'll be when you meet them in person.

Once again remember that you are doing the interviewing too. This holds true for job interviews as well. You don't want to find yourself in a job that you despise just to get by much like you don't want to be with someone who annoys you just to have a partner. On the other hand, don't be overly judgemental. This is, after all, just a date and chances are high that the person you meet will be just as nervous as you are. So if you both just relax and enjoy the moment all should go well and if it doesn't and is awful, you don't have to see that person ever again.

4. Don't Give Up
As I said a the start of this internet dating, like job hunting, is not easy. That's not what the internet dating sites would have you think, however. On their introduction pages and in their advertising they show happy couples or cute little animated couples having the time of their lives. They don't show you the amount of time you spend reading profiles, the disappointment of not being written back or how frustrating it can be to go out on a date that you think went well only to never hear from the person again. But, don't let this get you down. Internet dating is certainly not the only way to meet people but it does help in many ways. For starters the not-so-fabulous dates can be seen as flirting practice. You might not meet the right person, but what's stopping you from practising your verbal banter on those you do?

The best way to keep the roadblocks you may stumble across during the beginning of internet dating from getting you down is to not take them personally or seriously. You'll find yourself just giving up on dating completely and losing all desire to put yourself out there if you do. It may not be easy, but perhaps you should approach it in the manner that the internet dating site marketing team would have you believe it all is, light hearted and fun. You need to keep your eye on the prize with an optimistic attitude.

So where am I now with all this internet dating stuff since Marianne put me back online? Well, I must confess that once I realised how similar internet dating and job hunting were I backed off and crawled back into my very dissatisfying, but comfortable, rut. This is quite similar to those people who stay in their mediocre jobs and not seek something better because it is just too much trouble. However, with the new year comes a new frame of mind. It's time that I really got out there and found the satisfying, loving long term relationship that I'd really like. Internet dating may not be the answer, but it is a means to an end. And, it's one I'm going to approach a bit more seriously.

Citrus Glaze for Scones and Other Yummy Things

2010-01-03T15:08:00.001Z

I tried my hand at making scones today. The recipe I used was okay, but frankly not worth mentioning. I'll probably search for another one. However, I decided they could do with a bit of a glaze, so I went seeking one out in cyber space. (It's interesting that I didn't just consult one of my 3 million cookbooks, but there you go.) Unfortunately I discovered as I read through a few recipes that I was missing ingredients here and there, so using what I had seen and what I had available in my kitchen, I made one up. And....

It's REALLY yummy. As I said, the scones themselves are just okay, but after eating 4 of them (oink oink), I've decided that it is definitely my improvised orange glaze that made them yummy. So, here you go...

3/4 C (98g or 175ml) confectioners sugar
1 tsp (5ml) orange peel zest
1 tsp (5ml) of vanilla
3 tsp (15ml) milk

Whisk all the ingredients together and drizzle on scones. Wait 10 minutes and eat.

I'm hoping this year brings me more yummy improvisations to share.

Start out as you mean to go on

2010-01-01T21:00:00.000Z

Happy New Year!

Normally at this time I reflect upon the year and what I learnt as it progressed. Instead of writing a long detailed soppy post about all I experienced this year and the knowledge gained, I'll just sum it up in a list. Major events of 2009 included the following: a break-up, finding a lump in my breast that ended up being nothing but gave me a week of grief, having a long standing debt repaid and a friendship restored, painfully discovering what I thought to be a true and lasting friendship to be a sadly superficial one, passing the Life in the UK test and being granted Indefinite Leave to Remain, Dave and May's fabulous wedding, teaching a new year-level and receiving top marks and accolades in a rather challenging course. Not all of these received blog posts, but they're worth mentioning when summing up the year as a whole.

Now a new decade has arrived and as such I believe it deserves 10 resolutions. I started to tweet them as I came up with them, but decided to just lay them out in one neat blog post rather than just tweet away. So here they are in no particular order.

1) I will take better care of my plants.
I've been a horrid plant caretaker this year and have killed two plants due to my negligence. I've been a better caretaker of plants in my past, so I will do my best to rectify that and return to my good nursing ways.

2) I will buy a new electric kettle to replace my broken one and make coffee at home instead of buying pricey lattes.
Kettle has been purchased. It's actually kind of sexy. Is it wrong for me to think of a kettle as sexy?

3) I will make more and buy less.
I mean this and have started to do so with Christmas gifts this year.

4) I will keep a tidier flat.
No explanation needed here.

5) I will set aside at least 30 minutes five times a week to write for my own purpose.
It does not necessarily follow that I'll be blogging more, but I do intend to take my writing a bit more seriously than I have done in the past.

6) I will cook more and eat out and get takeaways less.
When doing this I will endeavour to be healthy in my meal choices.

7) I will work out at least 3 times a week for one hour.
It may be going to the gym. It may be running. It may be cycling. Whatever it is, it will happen for at least an hour 3 times a week.

8) I will put less effort into obvious superficial friendships and put more effort into the real and lasting ones.
Putting it mildly it's no fun when you realise that you're in a friendship that's a one way street and you've been kind, patient and giving only to receive little back. Or, possibly you are belittled and patronised by someone you once held dear. Both of these things happened to me this year and sadly more than once. Yet, I was forgiving and opened myself up to have it happen again and again. I am fortunate to have some wonderful people as friends and I shall keep them close and treasure them. Certain others I'll just leave be and respond politely to when contacted. No use ramming my head against a wall any more, even if I was wearing a helmet.

9) I will not repeat old mistakes.
I know what I'm talking about here. That's all that matters.

10) I will set my finances in order so I can buy a place.
I hate thinking about this stuff, but I need to and I need to do it now.

So, there we go. Ten (not so) little ways which I will change. And with this blog post, I hope that I'm starting out as I mean to go on.

Now I've got some cooking and tiding up to do.

The Secret Behind My Family’s Swedish Meatball Recipe

2009-12-26T14:50:00.008Z

Swedish meatballs have been a Christmas tradition in my family for as long as I can remember. We originate more or less from the Twin Cities in Minnesota, my father from the St. Paul side and my mother from the Minneapolis side. Thus, when I was doing my childhood growing-up in Michigan we would complete a cold, snowy 13 hour drive every year to Minnesota to celebrate the holidays. Christmas Eve was spent with my mother’s parents and Christmas Day with my father’s parents. It was fantastic, two Christmas dinners! On Christmas Eve we had a huge feast, which consisted of a honey glazed ham and the best Swedish meatballs known to man. On Christmas Day we would drive to St. Paul and have a succulent ribeye roast with all the trimmings.

It’s been about 25 years since we were able to partake in the Minnesota double Christmas feed (and double Santa visits- he came to both houses). My mother’s parents moved to Tucson, I moved to Seattle and for a while we had to alternate Christmas visits. I was blessed to have both sets of my grandparents in my life until my early thirties. Now I’m blessed that I get to see my grandmother on my mother’s side every Christmas.

My parents have just recently finished building what my mother has termed, ‘the home before the home’, a gorgeous house, designed by my father, in Asheville, NC. My grandma, who is almost 90 and fit as a fiddle, has now also relocated to the area. My brother lives 4 hours north in Raleigh, leaving me as the prodigal daughter on the other side of the pond. This would be an incredibly special Christmas as it would be the first one where all of us had been together in a few years. My parents would also get to be the Christmas hosts, which hadn't happened in decades. The recent years previous to this we spent Christmas, usually without my brother, at my grandmother's place in Tucson. The kitchen in her flat was quite small, so instead of making Swedish meatballs from scratch, we had been buying them from places like Trader Joe’s. They were good, but nowhere near as scrumptious as the ones my grandmother made back in the day. This year my mother was pulling out all stops. We would have the homemade Swedish meatballs for Christmas Eve dinner along with all the other traditions we had observed when I was a child (except the double Santa visits).

On Christmas Eve my grandma arrived and she and my mother went into the kitchen. My mother took out the recipe my grandmother had given her years ago and said, “Look, mom, it’s your old Swedish meatball recipe.”

“Ahhh… you know where I got that?” asked my grandmother as she donned her apron.

“No, I don’t,” my mother admitted and waited anxiously to hear a story about how our family recipe had been handed down from previous generations of family in Sweden.

“From Playboy magazine,” my grandmother said nonchalantly, “Your father’s Playboy, of course. I didn’t make a habit of reading it.”

And so the delicious meatballs, which practically melt in your mouth, were made and consumed while we wondered aloud if the Playboy edition where the recipe had originated featured Swedish models that month.

And now (after some strong arming from friends who wanted me to put the meatball recipe up here and with my mother's permission) here is the sexy Swedish Meatball recipe. (You are STILL not getting my brownie recipe, however.)

Tear 2 slices of stale bread in small chunks and soak in 1/2 cup of lite cream.
Peel a medium potato, cut into chunks and boil. When it's nice and soft force it through a strainer.
Chop one medium onion extremely fine.
Put the onion in the pan with 1 tbs butter and slowly sauté until onion is yellow.
Combine in deep bowl the breadbread, cream, potato onion, 1 beaten egg, 3/4 lb lean ground pork, 1/4 lb lean ground pork, 1 tsp salt, 1/4 tsp allspice, 1/8 tsp pepper.
Mix very well (use your hands) until bread disappears.
Shape into 1 in balls.
Place in a shallow baking pan.
Bake at 475 (Fahrenheit) for 20 minutes, turning once until balls brown.
Melt 2 tbs butter in a large saucepan and stir in 2 tbs flour, blending well.
Gradually add 10 1/2 oz can consummé.
Add balls.
Turn to low and cook for 1/2 hour.
Stir in 1/4 cup cream.
Bring to boil, season to taste.
YUMMMY!!

Enjoy! :-)

What Is So Important About Today?

2009-12-01T17:50:00.009Z

It's World AIDS Day. As bloggers we were encouraged to write about how and why we are facing AIDS. This is my how and why.

I met Scott in 1989 on New Year's Eve. To be honest, I didn't really like him at first. I thought he was arrogant and bordered on being rude. Plus a 'friend' of mine had told me some very untrue things about him. Months later when my roommate, Suzanne, was gossiping to me about the way he and his girlfriend had split, I surprised myself by suddenly thinking, "Of course, he's meant to be with me."

It still took a few more months for him to woo me over and eventually I fell...hard. We were quite close, almost inseparable. I had never in my entire life known a love like this and spent my days walking on cloud nine. I was living and breathing happiness. But, when you walk high on clouds it hurts like hell when you tumble to the ground. My heart was shattered when we split.

However, we never really seemed to let each other go. I eventually moved to Seattle and he moved to San Francisco. I met a man and we moved in together out of necessity. Still I spoke to Scott every week. I may have been in a serious relationship with a live-in boyfriend in Seattle, but my heart belonged to a man in San Francisco.

About a year after we both had settled in our new homes, Scott found out that he was HIV positive. By some grace of God I wasn't. Don't ask me how. I'm lucky, I guess. It took me a long time to accept that. I felt guilty for years that I didn't end up with HIV. And don't ask me how Scott caught it. How anyone catches the disease isn't the issue. The issue is they have it. I absolutely hate the fact that there is a stigma on people who have this disease. At the end of the day it is not important. It is not a punishment from God. It is a disease and one that is killing millions of people, but allow me to get off my high horse and continue.

Slowly Scott's health deteriorated and so did a piece of my sanity. My Seattle boyfriend had developed a serious drug problem and Scott was the only one I talked to about it. Two men I cared for were dying in front of me. One couldn't help it and one was slowly killing himself. Eventually, Scott's health got so bad that he flew back to Michigan to see his family. He wouldn't be returning to San Francisco.

His best friend called me, then my friend, Suzanne, then his sister. It was time, and he was asking for me. He had said to his mother, “H- will kill me if I die before she gets here.” I gathered together all my savings, and the very next day I flew from Seattle to Michigan, where we had first met and had fallen in love while at university.

The disease had ravaged his body to nothing. This amazing man I had never stopped loving was reduced to a flesh covered mass of organs, each of them slowly disintegrating. He was in a morphine coma, and there was no way of really knowing if he could hear us. His family, with the exception of his sister, were exhausted and left to get well deserved rest. She and I chatted, and I told her a humorous story about him and me. I got to the part in the story where he and I had different versions, and suddenly he moaned as if to disagree with me like he always did when we would tell that story together.

Trained as a nurse, Scott's sister wanted to stay up with us, but she was only human and eventually succumbed to the need for sleep. At last she took her respite, but stayed in the room with us, sleeping on the floor. Due to the time change, I was still wide awake and told her I would wake her if…

Once I knew she was asleep I told him things I should have said long before. I promised him I’d leave my drug addict boyfriend. I told him I had never stopped loving him; it had always been him and there had never been anyone else despite the men who had come after him. Then, suddenly he said my name. He asked if I was there, if it was ok. My eyes stung, and my voice cracked as I told him he needed to go. I was there, I loved him, and I couldn’t stand to see him like this. He needed to go, and I would see him in the next life.

He said something that sounded like “Okay” and took a breath. I stood up and yelled for his sister. This shocked him, and he jolted. ‘Oh Jesus,’ I thought, ‘even in death I can’t let him be in peace.’

His sister took his pulse, and his chest rose and fell. “Is he gone?” I whispered. She nodded and ran to get the rest of her family. His chest continued to rise and fall, and I was confused. His family assembled in the room, and he continued to breathe. His sister explained that it was natural for breathing to continue a bit after the pulse had stopped. Then his breathing stopped, and the colour left his face. I moved away from his side to the corner of the room where I slid to the floor and let his family move in closer to him. I felt out of place somehow and hugged my knees into my chest. Everything felt numb, and my face was wet. The hospice nurse came to take care of the body. That was what he was now, a body. He was gone. My first real love and my best friend was gone, and unlike the times we had tried to leave each other before, there would be no coming back.

I think of Scott every day despite the fact that it has been 14 years since he passed on. I pray that a cure for this disease is found and soon. So, please if you have some extra time or extra money, donate it to the AIDS charity of your choice and remember all those who are living with this disease, not just today but always.

Where the hell have I been?!

2009-11-09T22:42:00.006Z

Someday I'll be back up for air (I originally spelled air as 'error' so that should give you some understanding of my mind's state at the mo') but until then I'm buried under piles of work. This is an extraordinarily challenging school year this year, as I'm teaching literature in addition to just writing. Granted it is only at a 6th grade level, but I would argue that makes it more difficult. I do need to muck through grammar errors and teach correct grammar and it's all VERY time consuming. I'm also teaching web design. Do I have web design experience? Oh yes, all in HTML language from like 18 years ago. Do I know anything about designing quality web pages. No, but I know people who do and thank GOD for them, as they have helped me design this course. On top of all that, I made the ultimately insane decision to take a course this autumn. What the hell was I thinking??!?!?!! I'm almost all the way through the course and averaging an A so far. However, I'm a bit of perfectionist and if I were getting anything less than an A, I'd probably lose sleep.

So that's why you haven't seen me lately. I've not even really been out socially. I can hear your shocked gasps all the way over on this side of the internet. Ask any of my London friends. They'll tell you they haven't seen me in a while- well with the exception of Halloween I suppose. Oh and here's a pic of me in my dominatrwitch costume.

Let me tell you those shoes are painful, but aren't they hot?

My mother dared to inquire about "my private life" not too long ago and I cracked up. First, because she used the term "private life" and I instantly had this vision of giving her my gynaecological exam results and second, because I haven't had the time to meet anyone new much less get together with the people I already know. It's sad. It really is.

Oh and I'm shoving my face with food as a result of my stress. Again, sad, sad, sad.

So that's me. That's where I am. And in about 3 weeks my course will end, life will settle down a bit and I'll return to my random blogging schedule. Until then...

OMIGOD My Mother's on Facebook!!!

2009-10-08T18:53:00.003+01:00

Dear Mom,

I thought the blog title would get your attention so you are probably reading this. I knew you would find my blog by becoming my friend on Facebook, so I thought I would send you a welcome note.

I love you so much and I am glad we are cyberly connected even more than we already are. I think Facebook will make you even feel closer to me. It will perhaps help bridge the thousands of miles that separate us physically and keep us in even better contact.

So you found my blog....again. I moved it from it's previous space when you found it before. If you scroll through the postings you will read about some things you may not know about me and may not want to know. When first realised you were on Facebook, I toyed with the idea of adding you as a friend but restricting what you could see including anything that would lead you to this blog or My Luck with Cars and Boys. However, I figured you'd probably find it at some point so why hide it? It's up to you if you want to read the postings on this blog and find out more about me. You might not like some of them and you might be surprised by others, so it's your choice really. The only thing I ask is you don't lecture me about the things I've done in the past. The past is the past. I selectively edit what I tell you because I love you so. But, now I welcome you into the world of my blog. Feel free to comment on any post you wish. Click the 'Yarp' link at the bottom of the posts and then leave a comment. You can choose to leave the comment anonymously but please sign it 'your mudder' or 'your mom' or just 'mom' or if you want to be all English, 'mum'.

You will notice that my name isn't up on this blog anywhere. Those people who know me personally and read my blog know that this is me. Everyone else just thinks I'm some woman whose name may or may not begin with H and I live in London. I don't have a plethora of readers, so please be one of my 'stalkers' and follow me to keep updated (see the side bar to the right). Or don't openly stalk me- it's your choice. You can subscribe to my blog too. If you're confused about how to do any of this, I'll show you when I come to visit at Xmas. (Let's keep our fingers crossed that the Home Office returns my passport with visa in time!)

I love you so very much and am pleased that you will now be reading this.

Smoochies,

H~

Not so Alternative, Alternative Music

2009-10-05T21:48:00.005+01:00

In my Young Adult Literature course we have just finished looking at the influence of pop culture on today's youth and how to use that influence in the classroom. We then chose an aspect of pop culture, researched it and became a mini-expert in it. I chose (not surprisingly) alternative music. Below is my paper. Enjoy!

Not so Alternative, Alternative Music

I thought I had it easy when I chose alternative music for a mini-expert topic. Music has always been a passion of mine and I was one of those ‘new music freaks’ in high school. Not only did I live in Seattle in the early 90’s, but I also had an ex who was an “Indie Buyer” for a local record store and took me to a plethora of alternative shows. These days in London I still venture out regularly to see little known or up and coming bands. All this experience makes me a mini expert on this subject already, doesn’t it? Hardly. Being an avid consumer of a genre does not an expert make. After researching alternative music, I’ve come to the conclusion that it is a genre that has grown and morphed so much it hardly seems alternative any more. Understanding the appeal it has for young adults can make it a remarkable tool in the classroom.

The term alternative music, also known as alternative rock, modern rock, new music or indie music, was used in the 80’s to place a label on those bands that weren’t on Casey Kasem’s Top 40, bucked the commercialism of pop music, but were still drawing decent sized audiences and selling records independent of major labels (Aksa 2008). However, alternative music really began long before the 80’s. According to Piro Scaruffi in A History of Rock Music: 1951-2000 in the early 60’s rock music became an outlet whereby dissent with the establishment was expressed (Scaruffi 2003). Even music that didn’t overtly have a political overtone became counterculture in nature and was forced underground due to discrimination that had previously occurred against rock-n-roll and protest folk singers. The fans of this new underground music did not prefer what was popular and easy to find. “They developed an alternative system of communication, “alternative” to the system of mass media, alternative in the sense that it dealt with and promoted those phenomena that were ignored by the mass media” (p. 32). Thus the counterculture of the 60’s paved the way for independent media and opened the umbrella under which a large variety of musical groups could stand.

Stemming from the counterculture of the 60’s, bands like the Velvet Underground and The New York Dolls emerged in the early 70’s (Taylor 2006). Punk and new wave materialised in the late 70’s and from here comes the birth of alternative music genre, which had followings in both the US and UK. However, the alternative music story is slightly different in the two countries. During the 80’s in the US, small independent labels took the place of major labels in producing alternative music albums. Most alternative groups performed primarily at smaller clubs and were publicised in fanzines, word-of-mouth or aired on college radio (“American alternative rock/post punk,” Earlwine, n.d.,). A few groups, like REM, received critical acclaim and were written about in mainstream music magazines such as Rolling Stone, yet most bands remained in underground cult status and out view of the popular music eye. It wasn’t until Nirvana’s “Nevermind” hit number one on the Billboard music chart in 1992 (“Nevermind,” n.d. para 2) that alternative music gained mainstream popularity not only in the US but also throughout the world (Taylor 2006).

While Nirvana may have gained popularity in the UK, the grunge aspect of alternative music as a whole never reached the pique of popularity it had in the US (“American alternative rock/post punk,” Earlwine, n.d.,). Much of this had to do with onset of rave culture. Guitar music had taken a bit of a back seat to the electronic grooves, which attracted thousands of young adults (Taylor 2006). Thus, dance and club culture is more widely accepted as being part of the alternative music genre in the UK than it is in the US. (“British alternative rock”, Earlwine, n.d.,). Additionally, guitar bands like The Stone Roses had an understated dance beat which made it a bit more poppy sounding than the heavy American grunge movement. British bands also seemed to be more pop oriented and focused on releasing singles; a practice that had almost ceased to exist in the album oriented US. Finally, British bands seemed to write lyrics that focussed primarily on distinctively British concerns. This isn’t to say that British bands weren’t successful in the new alternative music mainstream in the US. Blur, Oasis and Elastica all had hits and lucrative tours during that time in both the US and the UK.

Now that alternative music has developed such a global following, what’s really alternative about it? How can Cold Play, REM, Kings of Leon, Fanfarlo, PJ Harvey and Muse all be filed under the same genre on iTunes? Steve Taylor (2006) clarifies that conundrum in his book A to X of Alternative Music. “Alternative isn’t something fixed, it is constantly changing. We can’t know what alternative is until we know what it is an alternative to, and we can’t know what that is until the alternative shows us.” (p. 2-3) Overall the artists Mr. Taylor selected for his A to X guide met three criteria. They retained their voice and sense of purpose without influence of commercial or market demands, “consistently challenged the basic set-up of sounds, structure, textures and rhythms in their work” often using lyrics from a unique perspective about infrequently dealt with topics and finally “will have connected with the alternative sensibility of their own era.” (p. 3) Under this umbrella, today’s popular along with little known alternative music fits.

Today’s young adults seem to eat alternative music for breakfast. Those who are old enough go through a rite of passage where they clamour into vehicles and head to festivals for two to three days to see both popular and less known alternative music. They download music from the Internet, listen to it for free with advertised supported, downloadable programs like Spotify or LastFM and follow their favorite bands on sites like MySpace and Facebook. They become interested in the political stances and movements their favorite bands support and often become politically active themselves as a result. Using this enthusiasm for music, an educator can enhance a student’s desire to learn.

Teens tend to groan when it comes to studying poetry until they realize that they listen to it every day. Alternative music with its less dealt with topics is ideal to illustrate the power of poetry. Printing off the lyrics of a song from an alternative band most students know like Nirvana or Kings of Leon but removing the name of the band before having students read it can be a evocative anticipatory set to a poetry lesson particularly when studying Yeats or Browning.
ReadWriteThink.org has many lesson plans that incorporate music into literacy lessons. There was one particularly brilliant plan that I intend on trying in my classroom. Essentially after reading a novel and making notes throughout it, the students create a soundtrack for that novel and go so far as to create an album cover for the soundtrack. They must select their songs following a process and demonstrate in-depth analysis and make insightful connections. This activity has students visualizing, predicting and responding to the chosen piece of literature. This lesson in its entirety can be found at http://www.readwritethink.org/lessons/lesson_view.asp?id=861

As for actual pieces of young adult literature involving alternative music, there aren’t many. Many biographies about artists in this genre are primarily geared towards adults and contain content that would be frowned upon if the books were used in the classroom setting. However, there are a few. The previously mentioned A to X of Alternative Music is a fantastic book to use for reference and for younger adults there are also The Alternative Rock Scene: The Stars, the Fans, the Music by Wendy S. Mead and The History of Indie Rock by Jennifer Skancke. A good indie music biography to suggest to students around the age of 12 is "Green Day": Keeping Their Edge by Matt Doeden. Finally, to inspire students to create their own individual work, direct them to an article about the band Evan Brightly on azTeen.com. This alternative band comprised of young adults, some of who refer to themselves as “English nerds” are creating a piece that combines music, art and literature. Read more about them at http://www.azteenmagazine.com/band-reviews.php?article=324 and listen to their music on MySpace at http://www.myspace.com/evanbrightly.

Alternative music is not going anywhere and will continue to change and evolve as surely as the audience it attracts does. It is no longer solely an underground phenomenon and often times it attracts large groups of young people seeking some originality and identity of their own. Understanding alternative music and using it to augment literacy lessons and spark creativity engages students and makes the learning experience more enjoyable.

Bibliography

Aksa, S. (2008) Alternative music - history and facts revealed. Retrieved October 3, 2009, from Articles Base Web Site: http://www.articlesbase.com/music-
articles/alternative-music-history-and-facts-revealed-582838.html

Erlewine, S. T. (n.d.) British alternative rock. Retrieved October 2, 2009 from Allmusic Web
Site: http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=19:T579

Erlewine, S. T. (n.d.) American alternative rock/post punk. Retrieved October 2, 2009
from Allmusic Web Site http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=19:T579

Nevermind. (n.d.) Retrieved October 2, 2009 from Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/
wiki/Nevermind

Scaruffi, P. (2003) A History of Rock Music: 1951-2000. Lincoln, NE: iUniverse, Inc.

Taylor, S. (2006) A to X of Alternative Music. London, UK: Continuum International
Publishing Group Ltd.

Eggless Chocolate Cake with Raspberry Butter Cream Frosting Yum!

2009-09-30T22:30:00.003+01:00

My friend, Kellie, celebrated her birthday last Saturday and the poor woman is allergic to eggs.

I found this recipe for eggless chocolate cake on allrecipes.com. It's nummy.

Ingridents:
• 560 g sifted all-purpose flour
• 600 g white sugar
• 85 g unsweetened cocoa powder
• 235 ml vegetable oil
• 710 ml water
• 15 g baking soda
• 3 g salt
• 45 ml vanilla extract

DIRECTIONS
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C), grease and flour a 9x13 inch pan.
2. In a large bowl, sift together flour, cocoa powder, soda and salt. Add sugar and mix together.
3. Add oil, water and vanilla and mix thoroughly.
4. Pour into a 9x13 inch pan. Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 1 hour or until toothpick inserted in centre comes out clean.

Thank you Allrecipes.com!

Then I did another search for raspberry frosting and found this recipe on a blog called Cupcake Frenzy. Sadly this blog hasn't been updated since November 2006, but there's loads of good stuff up there.

Raspberry Buttercream Frosting

150g butter, softened
2-3 cups icing sugar
frozen raspberries, quantity depends on how much of a raspberry taste/colour you're after
1/3 cup milk

1. Cream the butter. Add the icing sugar and raspberries and beat well. If you find you need more liquid in the frosting, add milk gradually.
2. Frost away!

Now this frosting recipe is not exact (it even says so on the blog). I suggest that you cream the butter and sugar well first and then add the strawberries. I'm not certain that the milk is wholly necessary.

So, I frosted the cake and added fresh raspberries to the top, circled the raspberries with white frosting as I thought it would look cute, put candles on the top and realised much to my horror that the colours were very Arsenal FC. I may support Arsenal but my Kellie is a Chelsea supporter. She did make a joking comment about the colours of the cake but absolutely loved it. In fact, everybody loved it. There wasn't a crumb left by the end of the night.

Here's a pic of the cake pre candles:

Here's the cake on fire:

If you have a friend whose allergic to eggs, make certain they get a birthday cake when their day rolls around.

How Twitter Ruined My Blog

2009-09-20T22:40:00.007+01:00

It's Twitter's fault.

Yep.

Nothing to do with me being super busy or too exhausted from thinking and reading and writing for a living to actually write about my life.

No it's all Twitter's fault for my lack of blogs. Why? Well...

Every time I have a thought or two that could possibly be a blog I tweet about it in 140 characters. It's like micro-blogging. Then my desire to tell the whole story, although the whole story with my embellishment might actually make you laugh or chuckle a bit more than my tweet, is diminished. And, I go on with my life and have more thoughts which become more tweets and the cycle continues.

Remember, I'm always thinking. Sometimes even my tweets can't keep up with my brain, but I digress.

This doesn't mean that I don't have some damn good ideas for blogs or stories for "My Luck with Cars and Boys". I have at least 3 half finished pieces that are definitely blog worthy at the very least. However when I sit down (like now) after a day of thinking and reading and writing for work to blog, I find myself zapped of the energy to complete them. Twitter, on the other hand, takes little to no energy.

And now, I also blame my new toy. You may remember that I mentioned in my post about my MacBook how I just needed one more toy to make my technological life perfect. Well, I now have that toy. Here is a pic of a dishevelled, make-up free me (after a day of thinking and reading and writing for work) with my new toy.

Yes, that's an iPhone. And it has TweetDeck on it. So, now my twittering has become even easier. You'd think I'd use it to blog and maybe I will. I'll probably even start to AudioBoo regularly...eventually. So who knows. Maybe I'll revert to my habits of regularly blogging...maybe.

Until then if you're not on Twitter, you can look to the right of this page to see what I've just tweeted.

And now I'm back to thinking and reading and writing for work before I head to bed.

Oh Grow Up!!!

2009-09-14T20:36:00.004+01:00

Good Lord, people! How old are you???

First Adebayor, you made goal number 3 in a game against your former team and yes Man City went on to win, but tell me did you need to run 90 yards and end with an arrogant display of you postulating on your knees, arms in the air to flaunt your goal in front of the supporters of the club you played for last season? Also, did you really need to kick Van Persie in the face? I watched that game and that kick looked like it could have been avoided, but you went for it anyway. Really, how old are you?? I hope at the very least that the rumour I have been hearing that the FA may penalise you with a 5 game ban is true.

Next on my list of childish displays is of course Serena Williams. Yes, sweetie, that was a horribly bad call but if you had just gone on to play, you'd probably have won. But no. You thought it would be prudent to curse out the line judge and threaten to ram a tennis ball down her throat. And so as a penalty you lost the match and you got a fine. You deserved both.

And finally our little fit of disrespectful defiance comes from you, Kanye West. Taylor Swift wins the MTV award for Best Female Video and you see fit to jump on stage, pull the microphone out of her hand and spout out your opinion that you think Beyonce should have won. Since when did the MTV awards become the Kanye West awards?? You want your own award show, go for it. But quit spoiling other people's moments of glory. What really makes me ill is that you didn't get a fine or any sort of consequence except negative media backlash. You got off easy.

To the younger generation, it's you and other celebrities they see as heroes. It sickens me to think about the message your behaviour sent out to the real youth in society. I know that you three aren't the only ones who have done thrown such indulgent childish tantrums. However, it seems to be happening more and more among your ilk. Since when did behaving in such a juvenile manner become socially acceptable? I blame the culture of instant gratification for this glorified infantile conduct but I am by no means citing that opinion as an excuse. You’re all adults now. Grow up and act appropriately!

On the flip side we have people like Beyonce. You, my dear, recognised what Kanye West had taken from Taylor Swift and thus when you received your award, you gracefully gave the microphone to Taylor so that she could have the moment she had been denied. That was real class. Thank you. I wish there were more celebrities like you.

Okay, rant over. Have a nice day (or eve depending on where you are).

Why Blog?

2009-08-12T21:49:00.008+01:00

A few days ago I had an interesting conversation about my blog.

Yes, you read that right. I used 'interesting' and 'my blog' in the same sentence.

This discussion about my blog began innocently over the personal postings of my blog. A friend of mine and I have spoken about my blog from time to time. He doesn't get it. He'll read it when I write a little review or something to that effect that interests him and tweet about it, but other than that he doesn't see the point. We speak on a semi-daily basis and he knows all about my life, so why read about it? Also, he is vehement disagreement of my postings about my love life and when it has gone wrong. He has reason to be in vehement disagreement. Many, many, many years ago, long before I was blogging on Blogger even, he and I were an item and it went horribly wrong. He wasn't aware of my blog and in my rage I told the world what he did and directed them in an indirect manner to his MySpace profile by giving several obvious hints. Eventually he found it, read it, and deleted me from his friends on MySpace. We had words. I changed my post and he re-added me as a friend. Ironically, this whole incident opened us up to becoming friends somehow. And, we have remained friends since.

Since then I have been honest with anyone I may date about my blog. Not that they all dash out and read it. Believe me it says a lot about how someone really feels about you if they are dating you, know you have a blog and DON'T bother to read it. I tend to get a bit reckless with my blogging in those relationships, as if I'm daring them to have a peek. However, I still don't expose confidences. I also do not name them (Well okay, when I'm REALLY angry I have, but have since removed those names). I do, however, expose my feelings and insecurities about said relationships.

So we were having the usual disagreement about my blog and he brought up some interesting points. First, he pointed out that my posting about someone else and what they've done is the same as someone taking naked pictures of me and then putting them up but with the face blacked out. I did not agree. I said my angry posts about injustices were similar to someone taking pictures of me doing something wrong to someone else and then posting pictures of it for all to see but with my face blocked out. And, if I were caught doing something like that then yes, posting pictures with my face blocked out was justified

He pointed out that instead of blogging about it I should TALK to the person. I responded that with the exception of him I have always done both. In his opinion that's just weird. Who cares? Who reads that stuff? I said it was surprising the amount of people with voyeuristic tendencies. (However, in my head I was thinking about the average amount of visits Sitemeter tells me I get a day- five. Yes, five people a day read my blog and those who are not part of 'My Stalkers' to the right find it by accident while they're searching for something else. I love Sitemeter, but I digress)

Then he pointed out that people can and do change (he did) and just because someone did me wrong when that blog post goes up, it's up there forever. What if an ex’s new girlfriend came across it and judged him based on what was there. My response to that was 1. my name isn't even on this blog or any site linking to it, so aside from my picture how would the ex's girlfriend know it was me 2. no one who has done me wrong has their name on my site (anymore). Thus it would be a bit difficult for people who didn't know me personally to make the connection and 3. if my ex's girlfriend is researching my blog to find out about him, then my ex should be more concerned about the tenuous state of their relationship or the fact that he's possibly dating an obsessive bunny boiler rather than the fact that there's something not very flattering about him up here.

Finally, my friend said something powerful that stuck with me and has bothered me since. He said that in his view my putting up private details of a relationship was unethical. He went on to add that when I posted what I posted about him it felt like an invasion of privacy and a breach of trust. He also said that in the past few years he has sometimes worried about spending time with me in case he did something to piss me off and I posted a blog about it. That hurt... a lot. I didn’t have anything to say in response but to apologise over and over for something I did years ago and got a bit teary. He told me to stop being melodramatic and it wasn’t as bad as I was making it out to be.

Maybe I've just breached his trust again by posting this but he made some very valid points about my blog and that last one followed me around like a pack of yippy dogs snapping at my ass.

I took my bitten-up butt over to some friends’ house a few days later and told them about this conversation. My friends just laughed. “I can see his point about invasion of privacy,” one of them said, “but he’s one to talk about a breach of trust after what he did to you years ago. If you have remained his friend and trusted him for this long after all of your history, then he can trust you…and does. He was just making a point and you were being melodramatic.”

“Frankly," another added, "maybe we should all be worried about being called out for treating others badly. If we all lived in fear that unkind acts towards others would be posted for all to see, maybe we’d all treat each other better.”

Somehow I don’t see my blog as some type of societal moral policeman. And, I’ve not been too nice to people myself at times. Maybe somewhere there is an anti-H~ blog.

I had a hard serious think about the reasons why I blog and came up with the following reasons:

1. I blog when I have a thought that might possibly perhaps maybe be somewhat kind of a bit profound.

2. I blog when something strikes me as funny and I want to share it.

3. I blog when I've done or seen or read something interesting (or horribly dull) and I want to review it.

4. I blog to keep peeps back in the good ol' U.S. of A. updated on what I've been up to, although I've not been too good at that lately. They can find more about what I've been doing on Facebook or Twitter than on here.

5. Finally as previously discussed, I blog as an emotional outlet in lieu of therapy. It's psychologically purging to tell the world my thoughts and fears and get anonymous support (and sometimes free advice) either through comments or emails. And let's face it, when I'm angry I want to let the whole world know. I scream it from my rooftop and then after having a friend pick me up from the police station for a noise violation, I come home and quietly blog about it. Sometimes I'm quite open and a lot of times I exaggerate. I'm talking about being angry at things in general--from current events to love life kafuffles.

But maybe I should be a bit more editorial about what I put on here about my personal life. After all isn't it kinda like throwing stones in a glass house?

Stop by in a few months and see if I've had a change of opinion about being too personal.

Oh and if you're going to go back to my old blog to try to figure out who my friend is, maybe you should think about the quality of your own life. Why is who that friend is even important? In the greater scheme of things why was writing about all of this even important?

I think I've just entered some type of blogger's existential crisis.

I'm NOT Afraid of Some Swine!!

2009-08-06T11:55:00.003+01:00

First I'd like to begin with a quote from good ol' Noam Chomsky

"You need something to frighten people with, to prevent them from paying attention to what's really happening to them."

That's from Chompsky's book The Common Good and every time I hear a bloody report about Swine Flu that quote echos in my head.

What great timing this pandemic had. We're in an economic crisis with banks failing, people losing their retirement not to mention their homes and jobs and I haven't even brushed the surface of all that is taking place internationally.

But stop the presses people are getting the flu and some are even dying of it!! Excuse me for asking but isn't there a strain of flu that goes around EVERY year? And aren't the young, the very old and those with significant health problems at risk of possibly dying from the flu virus EVERY year? So far the UK has had (gasp) over 30 people die from Swine Flu and almost every person who 'died from' the virus had pre-existing serious health problems. In addition (and correct me if I'm wrong) but wasn't there a Swine Flu scare back in the 70's? And what ever happened to SARS, MMR or Bird Flu? We were all significantly scared by those too but what was this fear really distracting us from?

Yesterday I actually thought I would go an entire day without hearing about Swine Flu in the news. I sat on my sofa with a fever hacking and wheezing with this COLD that I have (I'm not giving into the Swine Flu fad) and innocently watching the end of Midsomer Murders when the ITV News came on. It was three stories in, but there it was dammit! Doctors fear that fatal illnesses could be misdiagnosed over the telephone as Swine Flu. Well of course misdiagnosis of Swine Flu is happening! The hotline isn't being run entirely by medical professionals so wouldn't that be obvious?? Oh but just to make this really scary the news stories on this went on to tell the horrible personal stories of patients who almost died due to a Swine Flu misdiagnosis. So now not only do we have a pandemic on our hands but we've also got a hotline that misdiagnosis what cold be more serious and life threatening health issues as Swine Flu. BE AFRAID! BE VERY AFRAID!

Yes, Swine Flu is here and yes people are dying but as I said before most of these people had pre-existing serious health problems. Thus, if you're the average healthy person you don't need to tremble in fear of the Piggy Flu. Just do your best to remain healthy- there's probably no need for you to don a face mask, but do wash your hands a bit more. If you do get Swine Flu you'll probably just have cold like symptoms with a fever, which although annoying, won't kill you. If you've got a serious health condition or are the parent or caretaker of someone who has a health condition or is very young or old, then by all means do take all extra precautions to remain healthy and keep in contact with your GP. However, we need to cease getting caught up in the media frenzy over Swine Flu and allow it to distract us from what's really going on in the world.

Unsympathetic Sounding Sympathy

2009-08-05T19:16:00.009+01:00

I'm ill and being unwell got me thinking about the things people say to their ill friends and colleagues out of sympathy. Some of these sayings make me chuckle. Now, I'm not saying I've never uttered any of these phrases because naturally I have. But sometimes what we say out of sympathy doesn't end up sounding very sympathetic.

"You look awful," or "You look horrible," or "You don't look good," or "You look tired." We say it out of concern but is it really something a sick person wants to hear? Obviously someone who is under the weather doesn't look that great but saying, "You look awful," makes the ill person sound just plain ugly. The more polite and grammatically correct way to express this same sentiment is to say "You don't look well." This way we're not saying the person is a hideous looking creature just that they look like they aren't feeling well.

Sometimes after chatting with a sick friend we'll simply say, "Feel better," upon leaving as in lieu of saying good bye. Mind you, I'm not talking about saying, "I hope you feel better." I'm talking about the simple command, "Feel better." That is what it is after all, a command. Who doesn't want to feel better when they're ill? Do they actually need to be commanded to feel better?

Here's another command that I recently received. "Stay healthy." Uh.... I was doing that and still became ill. I'm not healthy currently and I don't really want to continue staying the way I am right now. I am, however, doing my best to get healthy again and you don't need to command me to do so.

Finally, my favourite (and this was just said to me), "That cough doesn't sound good." When does a cough ever sound good? The last thing I think when I hear someone hacking away is that they have a great sounding cough.

That's all for now, but I'm sure there's more. If you think of any others post them in the comment section.

Torture Chamber

2009-08-03T23:11:00.002+01:00

Damn the gym! Damn it to hell!

I recently joined the YMCA here. If you'll recall I was the winner of our Biggest Loser Contest back in November. However, I didn't lose all that weight the right way. So when the shuttle for work changed to leave within 2 minutes walking from my house taking away my desire to cycle 5 miles a day, I slowly gained most of it back.

Damn not losing weight the right way! Damn it to hell!

Kate convinced me to come with her to a pilates class. The class was £6.70 for an hour, but it I were to join the Y it would be free. So I joined and it happened to be a summer offer. The sign up fee was waived and the first month was £10 less than usual. In addition I got set up on a personalised work out program and essentially had my own trainer. I'll call her Betty.

Damn Summer offers! Damn them to hell!

So I sat down with Betty, who is cute, nice and has the perfect body, and had a whole fitness evaluation. My blood pressure and heart rate are good, my strength is great and my breathing is good too. On the other hand, my body fat, my flexibility and weight...well...there needs to be some improvement.

Damn fitness evaluation! Damn it to hell!

So Betty and I began my program today. And it's a good one combining cardio with resistance training. Betty has designed a program that will increase my core strength, tone my muscles and burn off that fat. Apparently, and I swear I didn't know this, if you have more toned muscles it's easier to burn fat. I began the program in earnest today. When she first introduced all the exercises to me, they didn't seem that difficult. However, I knew, knew, knew deep down that somehow it wouldn't be easy. I was right and now I ache all over.

Damn cute, nice and perfect Betty! Damn her to hell!

So, now I sit sipping on hot chocolate with grand mariner. It's lovely. I deserve it. I think I'll add more grand mariner.

Damn hot cho-- no wait don't. This is nice.

Lovin' That Lovebox!

2009-07-29T19:13:00.001+01:00

It was over a week ago but hell.... I promised.

Lovebox is a 2-day music festival that has taken place in Victoria Park for the last 7 years. This year I was fortunate enough to go on the second day of the festival, Sunday the 20th of July. If you follow me on Twitter, then you got to see some of the pics I took. Unfortunately, my phone's (which was the camera I was using) battery died before I could tweet about the best band. I was, however, able to sneak in one last tweet before my phone completely went dead and I promised to blog about it.

And so not to let you down here are some pics from what I saw. Not in a wholly commentary mood but pictures say a 1000 words each or so they say.

The picture above is of The Bombay Bicycle Club. I really enjoyed them. You can check out their music on their web page or here on MySpace.

We then went to see The Chipolatas. As you can tell by their picture they are a bit of a juggling entertainment trio. I laughed and smiled so much that my face hurt. You can see some clips etc of their stuff here and of course below is a pic I took of them.

The picture above is of the Filthy Dukes. They were okay but I was more interested in what my friends were doing at the Gaymers Tree House food and beve area (eating and talking). Anyway if you want to find out more information about the Filthy Dukes, you can go to their MySpace page here.

After that we were headed to see Gary Numan, but I got side tracked by these guys and got separated from the group. I have no idea who these guys were, but they were fun.

I was able to locate my friends (after ringing them) at Gary Numan. You may remember him from the hit Cars. He's old now (but so am I). I wasn't that impressed so I watched a few numbers, snapped this picture and left. Here's his site if you're curious as to what he's up to now.

From there we went on to Noah and The Whale, who is pictured above. Ironically, it began to rain as they played. They were really quite good and I would have stayed for their entire show, but the band I've wanted to see for ages was headlining on the main stage.

And then... to my horror... my phone died. However, Marianne had a camera, thank God! As you can see from the pictures below, we were right up front for.....

GROOVE ARMADA!!!

Below are some pics and videos Marianne took. In retrospect, I should have asked Marianne to use her camera to shoot pictures, as these pictures are great. Better yet, I should have just brought my own camera instead of my phone.

I love Groove Armada and have for years. If you would like to know more about them, then by all means go to their web site. The only disappointing thing about their show was the abrupt ending with no encore. However, Marianne and I figured that they may well have been expecting to do an encore, but due to the legality of playing in a residential area on a Sunday they had to end at a certain time.

And so over a week late, but better later than never, that was my little experience at Lovebox. You can't say that I don't keep my promises. (You can say, however, that I'm damn slow in fulfilling some of them.)

Who Says the Barter System is Dead?

2009-07-18T15:52:00.006+01:00

I have a new toy!!! It's lovely and I've been playing with it for the last few days. Last night when I was out with some friends I kept yearning to play with it some more and couldn't wait to get home. No, no this isn't the Rabbit or some sex-toy along those lines. It is in fact...

a Macbook 2.4 Ghz Intel Core 2 Duo with 2 GB memory (667 DDR2 SDRAM) and 250 GB hard drive. It's a year old- maybe less. I got it from the family of a student I tutor. They also got the 3 year Apple protection plan so the warranty extends from one year to 3 years giving me telephone support throughout that period. (And there's always my dear friend, Matt, if things go way awry)

And the best part about this was the price. We are doing an exchange. I simply tutor free for about 11 times at an hour a time and it's paid off.

Here are some pictures of my new toy.

As you can see Tweet Deck is all configured and I've been tweeting away.

Now I just need my iPhone and life will be perfect. Well my technological life at least.

Oh and this is my 50th blog of 2009. Whoop!

A Little Review on 'He's Just Not That Into You'

2009-07-14T18:17:00.006+01:00

Lame though I may have been regarding writing, it doesn't mean I haven't been doing my fair share of devouring various forms of media- films being one. The other day not I found myself in my local Blockbuster and was thrilled to discover that 1) I could rent 4 DVD's for 4 days for £10 and 2) three films I yearned to see were in stock. So, I rented The Young Victoria, Slumdog Millionaire, The Reader and for my fourth I choose He's Just Not That Into You.

He's Just Not... didn't make the top 3 of the films I wanted to see, but I was intrigued by it for a few reasons. First, I've read bits and pieces of the book and found it to be an over-simplified handbook for women on the common sense of dating. The film was co-written by the book's author, Greg Behrendt. I was curious to see how a book, which was essentially a self-help book for lonely hearted women could be transformed into a collection of comedic stories about romance. Second, the cast was decent. I like Drew Barrymore and Ginnifer Goodwin. Bradley Cooper is hot. I've seen Jennifer Aniston do some pretty damn good acting in the film Friends with Money and Ben Affleck is decent depending on who he's playing and if he can pull it off. Finally, well....um.... let's just say it's a film I felt I should see at this particular time in my life.

For the most part the six slightly over-lapping stories which make up He’s Just Not... are funny, heart-warming and go along with the basic premise of the book. However, the main story just didn’t fit.

(Now at this point I must warn you, I'm going to ruin one of the little stories for you. So if you are planning on seeing the film and don't want to know how any bit of it ends, stop reading this now. Right, you've been warned.)

At the beginning of He's Just Not... we're introduced to 'our problem' which is narrated by the desperate Gigi (Ginnifer Goodwin). Apparently, our problem, or more precisely the problem women have with dating, is that from the very beginning when we are but wee girls we are told that when a boy is mean to us it means they like us. Thus, we are programmed from the start to think that when a guy treats us badly they actually secretly like us. Now this makes sense... a bit. But of course as we all become adults guys stop being mean to the girls they like and it's all pretty straightforward right? Uh.....

Anyway, so poor, must-have-a-relationship-or-die Gigi goes out with Connor (Kevin Connoly). They date goes well and they say goodbye- no kiss just a "Nice to meet you," and Gigi waits anxiously for Connor to call. He doesn’t. (“If he’s not calling you…”) Eventually she decides to casually drop in to the bar where Connor hangs out and accidentally meets his roommate, Alex, (Justin Long) who manages the bar. It is there that Alex enlightens her to the rule, “If a guy is acting like he doesn’t give a shit, he generally doesn’t give a shit.” When Gigi tries to refute this by beginning a story illustrating the opposite, Alex interrupts her and points out that is a very rare exception and most of the time there are NO EXCEPTIONS to this rule. This is actually the primary point of Behrendt’s book. ‘Finally,’ I thought, ‘a realistic dating story,’ and was curious to see what would happen to Gigi.

Then, the story slowly goes into the toilet. It becomes typical romantic Hollywood crap. On fact it becomes the same crap that foster the illusion of the exceptions to the He’s Just Not… rule. Yup you guessed it. Eventually after developing a friendship where playboy Alex coaches boyfriend-seeking Gigi through her dating escapades, she gets the wrong idea from him. They then have a row, she says some pretty poignant things about his playboy behaviour and he comes to the realisation that he’s actually in love with her.

Vomit!

In real life they would have fought, probably not spoken for a while and both Gigi and Alex would have ended up the wiser for it. Their friendship may or may not have lasted, but they would never ever end up with each other. Ever!

Had this movie not been based on a book that instructs women to not over analyse but take things on face value, I would have had no problem with that unrealistic storyline. But this just seems to fly in the face of the point of Behrendt’s book. Okay so Hollywood does that sometimes, but as I said earlier this film was also co-written by Behrendt. What?? The man who wrote He’s Just Not That Into You and It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken would actually allow this storyline to happen?? And thus the author who seeks to shatter the delusions women create about dating, helps to foster one. I found that to be incredibly hypocritical. Yet this is a trite romantic comedy so maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised.

And so, He’s Just Not... is an entertaining, fun and silly film (and Ben Affleck actually plays his character pretty well) but if you’re expecting it to be true to the basic premise of its namesake book because the author helped created the film, you will be very disappointed.

And now for something completely different, I’m watching The Reader.

In Her Own Words

2009-06-29T07:06:00.003+01:00

In my previous post, "Justice is Served", I directed you to a link in the Daily Mail which reported that the attackers of my friend, Sangita, had been found guilty. I saw Sangita at our debate club later that night and discovered that the Daily Mail had actually done her a injustice. She had written them a piece about her attack and instead of publishing it, they chopped it to bits and made it appear as if they conducted an interview with her. It's unfair to both Sangita and the readers of the Daily Mail that they did this. The original piece Sangita wrote was moving, inspiring and empowering to all survivors of crime while reminding all of us that no one is immune from such an attack. I'm honoured that she has given me the original article she wrote and has allowed me to post it here. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BY SANGITA MYSKA, BBC News Correspondent /Presenter
24.06.09

I’ve spent so much of my career reporting serious crime, that it never struck me I might actually be a victim of it. On the day I was approached about writing a piece, for example, I was at the Old Bailey reporting the convictions of Ben Kinsella’s loathsome murderers (for the BBC).

The difficult task of talking to victims; visiting crime scenes and dealing with the police - was so familiar to me, that quite unconsciously, I’d developed a sense of immunity. Street crime was something that happened to other people. Not to me. I simply reported on it.

That all changed in March last year. I’d returned home late and was locking the car when two men grabbed me from behind. I was knocked off my feet, and dragged backwards. My neck was twisted so hard that another few millimetres and it would have broken. I was threatened with a knife, bashed up and robbed. All the while, Daniel Mykoo, whispered his threats and instructions with professional precision.

I had become, as some newspapers were to neatly put it, the latest victim of the ‘Strangler Robbers’.

I was easy prey: I’m 5 foot 4”, weigh 8 stone and was alone. They were the cowards and I was the victim. The only thing is, it didn’t feel like it.

Instead, for days and weeks afterwards I felt terribly, terribly angry – at myself.
I felt stupid for returning home late; weak for not fighting them off harder and guilty for putting my husband through the emotional turmoil that followed.

These men had robbed me of more than my wedding ring; they’d stolen my confidence.

I began to experience panic attacks. Everyday activities felt unreasonably risky. In the past, I wouldn’t have thought twice about walking past a group of ‘hoodies’. Instinctively, I now crossed the road. I avoided meeting friends in the evening; walking home after work and travelling on the tube after dark.

A few weeks after the attack I discovered, in a bundle of paperwork sent to me following the mugging, a number for Victim Support. I’d resisted calling them for weeks. I deeply resented the word ‘victim’ - I couldn’t relate to it. I was an independent woman who had every right to walk down the street without fear of attack. The only problem was, I wasn’t behaving like it.

The help and advice the charity gave me was invaluable. Everything I’d been feeling was text-book typical of the thousands of people who experience, for want of a better phrase, this sort of mid-level street crime. Thankfully, I’d escaped with my life - but that didn’t mean I couldn’t feel shaken by it.

It’s now a year on and Daniel Mykoo has pleaded guilty to being ‘the Strangler’ part of the dreadful duo who mugged me. I’ve just returned from 4 months travelling, almost entirely on my own, across South Asia. I’m pleased to say, that with the support of family and friends, I’m very much back – in every sense of that phrase.

Justice is Served!

2009-06-25T17:13:00.007+01:00

A while back I wrote a blog about my friend, Sangita who was attacked outside her home. Well today, while I was lying in the sun, she sent me a text telling me to pick up a copy of the 'Daily Mail', a newspaper I don't normally read. I asked her why.

And this would be the reason why.

I love it when the justice system actually works. I'll be seeing her tonight and definitely will be buying her a drink to celebrate. In addition I will anxiously await July 24th. I hope they get life for the amount of emotional trauma they put Sangita and many other women through.

What a great day this has been! First I met adorable little baby Zack, then I saw Foxy Junior and now this piece of good news. I don't think this day could get much better.

Foxy Update!

2009-06-25T14:27:00.004+01:00

If you've been reading my blog for a while (or are a friend of mine in real life), you know about Foxy, the fox who lives in my back garden and sometimes climbs the wall and sleeps in the ivy, which allows him to stare in my kitchen window. We've spent a lot of time looking at each other and I would like to think that we've become friends.

But then he vanishes for long periods of time (much like I can do with my blogging) and I begin to worry.

I always thought of Foxy as the type of fox who would wear a little newsboy type cap with chains around his neck and a pocket watch, which he would twirl around. He was very cool, hip and a real player who after cavorting with the lady fox would come sleep in the ivy and stare lazily at me.

Well, either I'm right and Foxy is a real player or I'm wrong and Foxy is female. Either way Foxy has gotten around as this afternoon sitting in the middle of my back garden was Foxy Jr, who I shall just call Junior.

I spotted Junior after meeting Mark and Marisa's new baby Zachary, who was born on Monday. Zach is the cutest thing, even cuter than Junior. I had spent a good deal of the morning holding this adorable little human being. Thus I was feeling quite friendly and loving. So instead of running to get my camera to snap a picture of Junior, I stupidly flung open the window and said, "Hi, baby fox!" Of course it ran away.

Now I'm off to soak up the sun with the hope that maybe Junior will come say hi without biting me.

STOP THE PRESSES!!!

2009-06-23T10:37:00.004+01:00

J- HAS PAID ME BACK! Money was in my account this morning. He deposited cash so it really is all there!

Somehow we've remained friends despite the contention that came before. I'm meeting him for a drink today.

And there are a few more posts in the works about some interesting things and there will be some juicy stuff on Cars and Boys. However, I'm in the midst of sorting out visa crap and friends having babies, friends coming to visit and friends moving away.

Ciao for now!

Blog Makeovers

2009-06-07T22:24:00.011+01:00

I've been thinking about my two blogs lately and how one has almost dwindled out of existence. I decided that this couldn't happen, so it's blog makeover time.

I began "My Luck with Cars and Boys" with the thought that I would take my past (mis)adventures with men and motor vehicles and spin interesting tales with them. Perhaps then I would have some interesting fodder for a novel...or at least the inspiration for one. However, I intimidated myself (if that makes any sense) with my own expectations of what this would become and I froze. The posts over there just ceased to happen.

I have decided that my blogs need to really reflect their titles. This blog is titled "H in London" and thus that is what the posts will reflect. My little (mis)adventures in my life in London and other places I might venture to from London. "My Luck with Cars and Boys" will reflect current and past tales of my luck or lack thereof in love. From this point on "H in London" will be love life free.

"H in London" has more readers than "My Luck..." for obvious reasons. Thus when I post a new post there, I'll let you know here. Hopefully this will revitalise and renew both my blogs and keep me writing and keep you reading as well.

And surprise! There is a new post on "My Luck with Cars and Boys.

As always thank you for reading. I hope you continue to do so.

Why Homosexuality Should Be Banned

2009-06-02T23:20:00.002+01:00

Many thanks to my friend, Cliff, for pointing me to this.

Misadventures on the Izzle of Wiggit

2009-06-02T12:10:00.001+01:00

(Note: My student's name has been changed to protect his identity)

As mentioned previously I spent from Tuesday until Friday of this past week with our year group on the Isle of Wight. There were a few small humours moments.

There were 10 chaperones for a total of what ended up to be 87 kids. Three kids dropped out last minute due to illness and four others opted not to go. We have a small year group this year- I'm not complaining! My chaperone group of ten students decided that they needed a name. They came up with the name Martinis, as my surname is Martin. I stressed that we were non-alcoholic martinis and they agreed (This was after I told two off who proclaimed we were, "Vodka!" at the top of their lungs. Personally if we were going to be any martinis I'd want us to be Espresso Martinis but I wasn't telling them that.)

I have to say that out of all the five years that I have gone on this school trip, my chaperone group was the best behaved one I've ever had. Plus, being an international school there were several different languages that the kids could speak besides English. So, when I had them count off (each student had a number) we began in English, but then there was an insistence that we switch to Spanish, then French, then German and finally Dutch.

Here are the Martinis at Osborne House (Queen Victoria's home for much of her life)

I was a bit concerned about a student I'll call TK. He constantly blurts out, goofs off and gets in loads of trouble outside of class as well. His naughtiness is never really malicious so much as it's a case of bad judgement. And a case of bad judgement hit TK as we were leaving Osborne House. Like all good tourist areas, Osborne House has you exit via the gift shop. We had established rules about what they could buy at the gift shop. Sweets and any object that can be used as a weapon were not allowed. We were out of time and so to the disappointment of my group I informed them there would be very little time to shop. But oh no, this wouldn't do for TK. When we left the gift shop, he was noticeably absent. After about 5 minutes of waiting, TK came running up to us full of apologies but proudly declared, "Miss Martin, look! I bought a slingshot!" There were a few chuckles from the rest of my group as I rolled my eyes, sighed and gently reminded him that a slingshot was a weapon. He reluctantly placed it in my outstretched hand and I kept a hold of his tool of destruction until the we returned to school.

Wednesday night was my over night duty on-call. This meant that if there were problems after 'lights out', students would come to me. One of my little Martinis had a topical allergic reaction and I had to tend to her first at 1:00 and then again 2:00am when it finally subsided. At 4am I had a dream that a car alarm was going off outside my flat when I heard a pounding on the door to my cabin. I opened the door to 6 very tired and nervous looking boys. "Miss Martin, our smoke detector is going off and won't stop....and there's no smoke." I sleepily stumbled into their cabin. There was indeed no smoke and nothing to cause it. So, I stood balanced on the edge of the lower bunk in the bunk bed, reached out and hit the magic-button on the detector and the noise stopped. There was much rejoicing and we all went peacefully back to bed....for about 10 minutes.

I heard the alarm clearly this time and was out of my bed like I shot. The boys were also out of their cabin and on their way to get me. As I went back to their cabin to do my bunk-balancing/magic-button act, one of them said that the smoke detector had begun to go off with a few sporadic beeps before bursting into its monotonous, piercing nose. I didn't want to be responsible for 'illegally' removing the smoke detector. So as it was slowly building up for its third fit, I grabbed my folder with all the very important information and rang the 24 hour emergency number. I assumed this was was the number for someone at out camp site. It wasn't.

I ended up with a very annoyed woman on the other end of the phone. The number I rang was indeed the number for 24 hour emergencies but for the company that owns the camp and several others, not for the camp itself. She asked why I hadn't rung someone at the camp and I informed her that this was the only number I had been given. After telling me she would ring security at the camp, she hung up on me. About 20 minutes and two magic-button pushes later the security man, who was so large he could barely walk, showed up. He asked me to get on the top bunk and take out the battery. I did. The smoke detector still continued to beep away. I unscrewed the detector, which revealed that it was wired to the ceiling. I tried to hit the magic-button to silence it. However since it was dangling from the ceiling, the detector's button had lost its magic. The heavyset security officer attempted to stand up on the bunk bed and balance the way I had and in so doing nearly knocked me off the top bunk. Finally, out of frustration I grasped at the wires and what appeared to be a plug. I yanked. Nothing. I yanked again. Still nothing. I yanked one final time and out it came followed by blissful silence, which was instantly broken by cheering from the boys.

The next morning the boys were singing my praises as the smoke-detector slayer while I almost slept through breakfast.

The following day my group participated in "The Sensory Trail". Essentially they were all blindfolded and had to walk through a muddy obstacle course in single file with their right hand on the shoulder of the person in front of them. They were encouraged to use their senses and communication skills to work together as a team. I stood silently watching and giggling as they made their way down the path. Upon passing me one of the boys said, "I smell Miss Martin." I was horrified at first but then again he didn't wrinkle his nose-just stated it as a fact. Thus, I'm assuming (and hoping) I smell nice.

And so those were the highlights of our Isle of Wight trip. Since I'm moving up a year level this was the last time I'll be chaperoning this trip. Overall, not a bad way to go.

I leave you now with some quick snaps I took of Carisbrooke Castle, which I absolutely adore and shall miss.

I'm Back Again

2009-05-30T11:06:00.002+01:00

I was away on the Isle of Wight for a five days. My tweets will fill you in as to the little things that happened and I will embellish and add pics in a bit. But today's a busy day of baking for a wedding shower and then having drinks with a friend who is in a bit of a career pickle. But I just wanted to quickly say hello here and let you know there is more to come. xxx

Exdar

2009-05-20T22:26:00.011+01:00

It's like radar, but it's all about your ex. They know. Some signal goes out. Some inexplicable signal and they know. They know it's time to get back in touch. Why is it that when you think you're over someone completely they send you a few texts, suggest you visit and meet their new dog and bam you're a sucker again?

It's hard not to be a sucker. You thought those feelings were completely gone. After all wasn't this the same Jerk who owed you money and you almost had to sue him? The same Jerk who was a prat when you thought you had breast cancer- yes him, H! Him! Run away! Run far, far away.

Oh and he's said that since things have just become more settled now he's going to become a different person in the next few weeks. To which you wittily inquire if he's getting a sex change. How very funny. How very flirty. STOP IT! WHAT, ARE YOU INSANE???

So what triggers said exdar? I have found that for me it is usually when I meet someone new that the exes suddenly remember my number. What blows me away about this current bout of exdar is that there is no one new. Uh... there is...ahem...someone old, however. Someone who has been around long before J-. That's not developing into anything and was just a bit of fun as far as I'm concerned. However, it was enough to trigger the ol' exdar.

And how do I know this is a case of exdar and not just a coincidence? Because there was more than one ex in the last 2 days who got in touch with me out of the blue. There were three of them. There was the aforementioned ex who inspired this posting and then two minor exes (if you can even call them that) who lasted about a month each. All for some reason only known to the universe decided to make contact yesterday and today.

Of course exdar works both ways. I recently began thinking about a university boyfriend for no apparent reason. I looked him up and sent him an email. Turns out he's getting married and he said I was the second ex to have gotten in touch with him. See, it's the mysterious powers of exdar at work. Its goal is to test your resiliency and resolve in this your new found place in life without your previous ex.

So, it's now up to me to resist this mysterious power which has brought my ex back into flirty communication. I must be strong to--

Oh excuse me. My phone's just beeped.

Please Take Me Back

2009-05-17T14:31:00.002+01:00

Uh....hello....No wait, please don't go.... I know it's been a while and you have every right to be annoyed with me. I used to blog with a frequency akin to rabbit copulation and you got rather fond of reading my mindless dribble. I became part of your life.

But then I stopped writing for a long period of time. And then I returned and you were relieved. But then I stopped writing again and then started again. And then I go away. And then I come back.

I know you're sick of my vanishing from blogger and then coming back and apologising and begging your forgiveness. The lack of commitment to my writing must be driving you mad. You probably want to chuck me, delete me from your blog roll, tell me to go to hell and that you never want to read me again. You must think that I'm a blog tease. You're probably right. I probably am, but that's going to change. I promise you.

I know I've been shit. I'm sorry I've hurt you. There's no good reason or excuse for my behaviour aside from the ones I've given before- work, writer's block, etc. However, like I said I'll change. This time will be different. This time I'll blog about funnier more interesting things. I won't obsess so much on my love life except when it's something that might amuse you or peak your interest. I'll be more attentive to you as well. I'll check my blog roll more often and find out how you are doing.

To be fair it's not as if I've gone away completely this last time. You can just load this page and look to the right to see what I've twittered lately. In fact you could even join Twitter and follow me there if you haven't already. Also, you can have a peek a further down on the right to see what music I've been listening to lately as well. I know. I know. You're right. It isn't the same and like I said I'll write more here. I promise.

So, please give me another chance. Let's give this another go. We've got the foundation for this to be the beginning- or rather rejuvenation- of a beautiful relationship. It would be a shame to throw such potential away.

I love you. I really do. Please let me back on to your computer monitors and start reading me again. Please.

Possible Leak

2009-04-26T21:27:00.005+01:00

What ho! A blog post that has nothing to do with my financial squabbles with my ex? Yes I can write them.

Marianne and I took a walk along the Thames into Kingston today and came across this boat for sale. The for sale signs on the boat made this a photo must, so I whipped out my camera phone and snapped these for your enjoyment.

And in More Interesting News...

2009-04-17T16:40:00.004+01:00

I've just been informed that I'm going to be receiving my Rugby Premiership Final tickets that I won at the London Blogger Meet Up in March! Hooray! I also got my personalised Guinness pint glass from the same meet up! YAY!!!

It's a Day of Silence for many of the students in the US. We're on Spring Holiday or else I would be joining them. I am going to mention that our school do something similar when we return. It would be good for our high school to be involved in this. I'm sick of hearing high school students slam others by calling them gay or faggot. It's just not right.

You can't be more sick of reading about this...

2009-04-17T12:37:00.006+01:00

...than I am of writing about it. So have no fear. This is the last time I'm posting about my deadbeat ex-boyfriend.

On Wed, I received a text from Jerk telling me that he would be home that night and would send me the number to track the post then. Then, later at night a text telling me that his flight was delayed but would get me the number as soon as he got in and that was it. Today is Friday.

And thus, my last personal request to him:

"Jerk,

Originally I said that I would give this until Wednesday the 15th of April to be resolved before taking legal action. However as you said in your text that you were again away without the number and would be home by Wednesday evening, I decided to wait.

Wednesday night you sent me a text saying that your flight was delayed, I shouldn't panic and that you would send me the tracking number as soon as you got home. It is now two days later, Friday the 17th of April, and I haven't heard from you.

It has now been almost 2 months since all the mishaps with the transfers supposedly first occurred. In addition you have written me a cheque with insufficient funds and now supposedly sent me a recorded post with a banker's draft which has gone missing and you are not providing me with a tracking number in order to trace it.

I will be filing a claim by the end of the day on Monday the 20th of April if this is not resolved. In addition to the £327 you owe me, you will also be requested to pay the £30 fee I had to pay my bank due to the transfers not going into my account back in February plus any fees for filing the claim. Filing a claim is not something I want to do, but with your inability to provide me with proof that you sent the banker's draft and documents, I don't see that I have another option.

I was really hoping that I would be writing you an apology for accusing you of being so awful and I'm saddened that it looks as though I will have to file a claim instead.

Sincerely,

H~"

And that's it. I did send him a text and a message on MSN, where he's been logged in all week but as 'Away', simply telling him to check his email and do the right thing. I know I'll probably get some crazy story about why he was unable to physically give me the tracking number (maybe he was falsely arrested again or had to go into hospital), but I won't bore you with it. When this is resolved I will let you know, but until then I'm retruning to my regularly scheduled blog posts.

What Am I? An Idiot?

2009-04-14T11:47:00.009+01:00

And now we are on to part five. For those of you just joining this saga, please go back 4 posts to the beginning so that this makes sense.

I received a text from Jerk today:

"I thought I said in my mail that I was going away and that is why they were calling me! I also thought I explained that the signature had to be looked up as it wasn't in the system yet. I also thought I said that, as the sender, I had to deal with them. Maybe I didn't put that sorry"

To which I replied:

"This really sounds like you are lying. I've had stuff sent by recorded delivery before and as the recipient if you have the tracking number you can look it up online. You sent me the tracking number last time you sent a recorded mail, so why can't you do it now? You said two weeks ago you would send me the tracking number, so just do it. If you are telling the truth about when you sent it, then you would have the number."

And his response was:

"I do have it but I fail to see which part of I'm away you do not get!"

And my reply:

"And I fail to see why you didn't take it with you as this was unresolved and you were waiting for a call back, especially since this all went wrong when you were away before. Had you sent the number when you last wrote this wouldn't be an issue. You are making this more difficult than it has to be."

And that is where we stand.

I don't know who is the bigger idiot, me for dating this man and lending him money or him for dragging this on and on.

Will This Never End?

2009-04-13T19:58:00.006+01:00

If you're just joining this saga, you'll have to go back three posts to get the full story. Now we are on to part four.

I had a dream that I confronted J- and asked him to look me in the eye and tell me that he had sent the banker's draft and documents. He couldn't. As he tried to explain why he hadn't sent me the tracking number, saying something about how it changes on the internet, I began yelling at him. I woke up with my heart racing, went to my computer and sent him this email.

"Hello,

It's now been 7 days since the package you supposedly sent was supposedly signed for. If I had the tracking number I could see it online for myself that it was signed for (per your previous mail) and by whom. I don't understand why, if you were telling the truth, you didn't just give me that confirmation to begin with and let me deal with the hassle of royal mail.

So please give me the tracking number so I can see this for myself. Then I can print out the signature and chase the person up when I go into work tomorrow. Plus this way you are doubly vindicated and I'll be doubly sorry for doubting you. Until I get that confirmation number and see that signature, I'm back to my original assumptions since I still have no tangible proof showing me you've sent it."

I sent that this morning and no I've not heard back.

A mutual friend of ours shook his head when I told him the entire story and said, "He needs to stop digging and just come out of the hole he's made for himself."

Sadly, I think I'm going to have to be filing that claim. How heartbreaking. I'd rather write an apology.

He Said, She Said, How Sad!

2009-04-10T12:02:00.007+01:00

For those of you just joining this saga, it begins here and continues here. You might want to read those first. We now continue with part three.

I finally heard from him this morning. As opposed to paraphrasing what he said, allow me to show you directly what he wrote:

"Good morning,

Quiet an e-mail.

Ermmm where to start. Well I only got back at 1am last night so was pretty hard to send you an e-mail! As for you watching me on Facebook and making assumptions all I can say is that Airports have internet access!!!

I am not going to even bother justifying myself to you over all of your accusations as I do not feel I need to explain myself further. I dont lie to you and am not doing so now! I have been away and have just got back. Simple as that. Hard to do much when not at home. I am sorry that the letter has gone astray but it will not be an issue as I paid for it to be tracked. That was the whole point!

I will call royal mail now and see if the letter was signed for and then send you another mail.

As for filing a claim that is totally up to you if you want to waste £125 doing it!"

So I responded:

"Hello,

Well, I want you to prove me wrong and I hope you do. I don't like thinking these things about you, but this has all gotten out of hand has become unbelievable from my point of view.

I do notice, however, that you still have not sent me the tracking number so I can call myself. I would still like that, please. I want to to call Royal mail and hear for myself when it was sent, who has signed for it, etc.

I don't watch your movements on Facebook. They show up in my newsfeed despite my efforts to have them not do so. In fact I've hidden you, or tried to, so that I don't have to see your status updates. However, every time you become a fan of something or join a group, it shows up on the 'Highlights' section. Trust me I have tried to figure out a way to have that not happen, but it does. Hell, I even went off Facebook for a while because I didn't want to see what you were up to. I don't want to delete you as a friend because I do hope that we can somehow be friends in the end. I did go to your profile last night and write on your wall because I was pissed off."

(As an aside I simply wrote "and...?" on his wall)

"As for the claim, like I said I don't want to. I have looked into it and spoken to someone who had to do it. Apparently, you would be the one who would end paying for the fees for me having to file it if I have to.

So, go ahead and call Royal Mail and let me know what they say but also send me the tracking number so I can do the same. As I said I want to hear it from them myself. Plus, if it was signed for I can email that person directly as they will work at my school. If you don't send me the tracking number then I will go back to my assumptions.

I really want you to prove me wrong and to see that this really was a bunch of unbelievable circumstances so I can return to thinking you were the lovely guy I thought you were when we were together."

Actually I don't think I will ever go back to thinking of him as that lovely guy. He'll still be Jerk in my eyes.

Oh but there's more. He sent me an update which must have crossed with my response. His update said:

"Having spoken to Royal Mail I now know that the package was delivered and signed for on Monday!!! Thank you very much.

It takes seven working days for the signature to appear on the website but, as I was the sender the woman is phoning through to another department to get the name of the person who signed for it.

You can then chase them up your end.

I am going out but as soon as they call me I will txt you the name.

Looking forward to my apology when it is proven that I sent it."

To which I responded:

"Please also email me the tracking number and the name. Last time you said you sent me a text with the tracking number, I never received it and I don't want to have that happen again.

In fact to be certain I receive it as we seem to have so many texts and mails go astray, please email the tracking number and name to this account and to my gmail account and maybe to Facebook as well. Yeah it might be slightly paranoid of me to ask you to do that, but I'd rather know for certain that I was going to receive it.

Once I have the money in my account and the documents proving you made the initial transfers, I will gladly write you a humble apology and will be overjoyed to be proven wrong."

So what do you think? Will I get the tracking number so I can speak to Royal Mail myself? Will I receive this package with the banker's draft and documents proving the initial transfers went astray? Will I have to write that apology? Or will I end up having to file a claim?

Jerk Update

2009-04-10T06:16:00.004+01:00

I'm up with some sort of stomach nastiness, so I thought I would fill you in on what's happened with Jerk since I last wrote.

I got a text from him saying he would be home later and would send me the number himself and reply to my email. I may have gone a bit overboard in my response, but I told him if this recorded post had somehow gone missing I would file a claim. In addition I said that I felt betrayed by him through all of this and was now thinking everything he told me was I lie and asked him to prove me wrong.

I never heard anything back.

So I sent this email. Please look on it with kind eyes grammar wise as it was written late at night in a rather emotional state.

"Jerk, (yes once again I used his real name)

I see you've just had recent activity on Facebook. So, you've been online, but not contacted me as you promised you would tonight, the 9th of April 2009.

Thus, I'm assuming your silence is an admission of guilt. You have no confirmation number to send me as you never sent the recorded mail with the £327 you owed me and promised to pay me to begin with.

Do the right thing, please and tell the truth. If you really cared about me you would have responded by now, but as you haven't I'm saddened and can only assume that you are a liar about the initial deposits (and thus let me practically starve while you came down for football and went back up to Norfolk, not because your Dad needed you but because you just didn't want to face me since you had lied to me) and also about sending me this recorded mail as you can't even supply me with a confirmation number of said recorded mail.

If you never made those initial deposits in February, the very least you can do is include the £30 fee I had to pay as I went into the red at your expense and had to borrow money from my friends to get by (at least I paid them back). If I don't see a banker's draft and proof of those initial deposits by the 15th, I will file a claim for a total of £357.

Thanks for showing me how very little you cared. I now can only assume that it wasn't because you were hurting that you couldn't talk to me on the phone but because you knew you were lying to me about everything.

If you admit your lies, apologise, explain why you felt you needed to lie to me, set up a payment plan with me, which includes at least the £30 fee for the hell you put me through in Feb, and stick to that payment plan then I will not file a claim. Otherwise if I do not hear from you before the 15th expect a claim to be filed.

I really wish it hadn't come to this, but you are the one who pushed it to this point.

H~" (Oh and I signed it with my real name)

Right, back to bed. I'll keep you posted as this saga develops.

J- Means

2009-04-08T21:42:00.009+01:00

...Jerk. J-'s ended up being a jerk.

I let him into my life. I trusted him. I gave him keys. I lent him money. I lent him money. I paid for things. I lent him money.

The fucker still owes me money.

We broke up officially a month ago tomorrow. He's owed me £327 since Feb. You've no idea the stories I've heard about why I don't have this yet. Allow me to tell you some of it.

First, back in February I asked if he could pay me just a £100 back so I wouldn't go into overdraft. He volunteered paying me back the entire thing. I didn't need the entire thing only a £100 of it, but he insisted. He called his bank and wire transferred money into my account....supposedly. The money never showed. He offered to put an extra £100 in to my bank by going to one of my bank's branches to cover me until the first wire transfer came through. That also never showed up. My bank charged me a £30 fee as I went over-limit from waiting for these transfers. Then by some miracle, Jerk was able to get the money back from these transfers gone awry. Then, my cancer scare occurred and we split. Meanwhile he still owed me money.

We made an agreement that he would send me a cheque and the documents to prove that he had made the original transfers as well as my keys. With these documents, I might be able to get the bank to reverse the fee. I got the cheque and the keys but no documents. He said he had simply forgotten them and would send them via regular post.

Then the cheque bounced....boing! Oh and in the midst of emails trying to sort that out, he claimed he didn't fancy talking to me on the phone about this since it was all a bit painful for him and hearing my voice would make it worse.

Whatever... However, I did burst into tears when I read that. But I collected myself and responded that it was painful for me as well and all this unresolved money crap made it worse.

And now I'm awaiting a banker's draft with the money and the documents. He claims he has said it via recorded post to my work on Thursday. So here, read the email I sent to him Tuesday to explain the rest of this bullshit.

"Jerk, (okay I used his name here)

I'm on spring recess and I've called school yesterday and today to check if there has been any post for me. There hasn't been any recorded delivery. The last time you sent the cheque (that bounced) it came within a day. If you sent it Thursday, as you said you did, it should have arrived by today as it has now been 3 business days.

You mentioned in a text on Saturday that you had already sent me the confirmation number for the recorded delivery via text, which I apparently never received. You said you would get your bother to send the number to you, as you were away. I never got any other text or correspondence from you. I sent you a text yesterday saying that if you had sent a text with the number, it would still be in your sent messages and you could just forward me that. I never received a response from you.

As far as I am concerned you have not made any effort to send me the confirmation number since I have never received it. Thus, I am beginning to think that you have been dishonest with me about sending the recorded mail at all.

Considering that I always bent over backwards to help you out, I would think that you would try a little harder to make certain I had the money you owe me so this could be made right. Yet, you won't even resend the confirmation number (if you really sent it the first time). Do the right thing and give me the number so I can track the post. Or, admit you never sent the post originally and send it now (with the other bank documents as well so I can take care of that fee-if you were honest about the initial deposits) via recorded post and then email me the tracking number to both facebook and my regular email so there can be no claim of emails going astray.

H~"

Today I get a text from him saying that he hadn't read his email as he was still away (despite the fact I saw him on MSN all night and he had activity on Facebook) but would try to check his email at a cafe tonight. He said his brother was also still away so couldn't resend the confirmation number. (What his brother has to do with this, I have no idea.) I responded calling him out on the lie for checking his email and telling him that I'm getting tired of him messing me about. I've not heard back.

I seriously am starting to think that he's setting this up to say the recorded mail got lost, so he doesn't have to pay me at all.

By the end of the day tomorrow I will inform him that I intend on filing a claim against him. I don't want to have to do this, but I will.

Yup. J- stands for Jerk.

Extreme Sheep

2009-03-30T22:31:00.000+01:00

I know I've been rubbish at posting much in the last week and a half. I'll get back on it soon. I've been busy with school.

My friend, May, sent me a link to this. I had to share.

EARTH HOUR TONIGHT FROM 8:30-9:30!!!

2009-03-28T13:52:00.003Z

Please switch off your lights tonight from 8:30-9:30 in support of Earth Hour.

More information on the WWF site

And here's a video for you to watch as well.

Answer Time (as opposed to Question Time)

2009-03-20T15:26:00.002Z

I'm done. I passed in 9 minutes (out of 45), but I'm glad I studied. Most of the questions I only knew because I had studied. Some of my friends and colleagues who have taken this test have gotten easy pease questions ('What do people do on April Fools Day?') but my test only had 2 or 3 easy peasy ones.

So as for the mini- test I gave you all, here are the answers...

1. How many seats for representatives from the UK are there in the European Parliament?
a. 78
b. 88
c. 98
d. 108

2. What is the population of Wales?
a. 2.9 million
b. 2.2 million
c. 1.9 million
d. 1.2 million

3. Which of the following countries does NOT use a proportional representation electoral system?
a. Wales
b. England
c. Scotland
d. Northern Ireland

4. From which TWO locations did Britain admit refugees during the late 1960s and early 1970s?
a. South East Asia
b. Ethiopia
c. Turkey
d. Uganda

5. How many member countries are there in the EU?
a. 17
b. 22
c. 27
d. 32

6. What proportion of people in the UK own their own home?
a. One-third
b. One-half
c. One-quarter
d. Two-thirds

7. During the 1980s, the largest immigrant groups to the UK came from which countries?
a. China, Japan and South Korea
b. Russia, Poland, Belarus and Ukraine
c. India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Bangladesh
d. United States, Australia, South Africa and New Zealand

8. What is the difference in the average hourly pay rate for men and women?
a. The average hourly pay rate is 5% lower for women.
b. The average hourly pay rate is 10% lower for women.
c. The average hourly pay rate is 20% lower for women.
d. No difference- the average hourly pay rate for women is the same as men.

9. What proportion of young people who became first time voters in the 2001 general election actually used their vote?
a. One in two
b. One in three
c. One in five
d. One in six

10. Why did Britain admit 28,000 people of Indian origin in the late 1960s and early 1970s?
a. They were escaping religious persecution
b. Because of an agreement with the Indian government
c. They were forced to leave Uganda
d. To address shortages in skilled labour

11. What percentage of England's population is made up of ethnic minority groups?
a. 3%
b. 9%
c. 18%
d. 24%

12. According to the 2001 Census what percentage of the UK population reported that they had a religion?
a. 45%
b. 55%
c. 65%
d. 75%

So....(drum roll)
Pristyles- you got 100% of the 3 you answered correct. Still you didn't do the rest, but yes let's go for a drink. Oh and hell for trying at least part of it, I'll buy you one. :-)
David de V- You got 4 wrong. Thus, you didn't reach the 75% mark. However, quite a valiant effort on your behalf, so I'll buy you a drink. I'm sure that will be happening soon. :-)
Augeas-You also didn't reach the 75% mark, but your comments made me laugh out loud at points. So, I'll gladly buy you a drink sometime. :-)

See, now don't the rest of you wished you had given it a shot.

And now, I'm off to meet the gals and up Tower 42 to Vertigo where we will have some bubbly. Wooooo how posh am I? (har har har)

SUBMISSIONS CLOSED for Previous Post

2009-03-20T09:08:00.004Z

I have had 2 and 1/2 brave souls attempt to answer my mini-version of the "Life in the UK Test." I will post the answers as soon as I take my real version, which happens in a few hours.

Am I doing final revision for this test? Well kinda. Actually I just spent some time online am examining NCAA Basketball Championship brackets instead. Not very British of me, but it's March Madness! I am wearing my NCAA Basketball Championship shirt and have been sleeping in it as well in hopes that those champs will be this year's champs. "Who were the college basketball champs in 2000?" you ask. Why that would be my alma mater, Michigan State University. They play tonight. C'mon STATE!

Too bad that question isn't on my test today. Oh and I'm not going to get to see their first round game against Robert Morris, as I'll be sleeping then.

So time to revise!

Okay my British friends, what do you really know...

2009-03-17T23:05:00.005Z

... about 'Life in the UK'?

I’m nearing the end of my fifth year here. This means that it is time for me to apply for Indefinite Leave to Remain. Yup, I’m here in this rainy country indefinitely and more than likely permanently. What can I say? I love it here. As part of the process to get my Indefinite Leave I have to take a ‘Life in the UK Test.’ Now some of these questions are no-brainers if you have been here for as long as I have, but then there are these.

So, I put forth a challenge to all you UK citizens. Answer these questions without looking them up anywhere (online, in books, etc). After all, aren’t you expected to just know this? Then, leave your answers as a comment (Yarp) or email me (you can find an email link in my Blogger profile) with your answers. You must submit your answers before 9AM GMT on Friday the 19th March. That is the day that I will be taking my ‘Life in the UK’ test for real. If you pass my little version of this test with 75% (9 out of 12 questions correct), I will buy you a pint (provided you live within the London metropolitan area). 75% is what I’m expected to get in order to pass.

I will publish the answers after I take my test. Of course I'll also be letting you know how I scored.

Good Luck! And no cheating!

1. How many seats for representatives from the UK are there in the European Parliament?
a. 78
b. 88
c. 98
d. 108

2. What is the population of Wales?
a. 2.9 million
b. 2.2 million
c. 1.9 million
d. 1.2 million

3. Which of the following countries does NOT use a proportional representation electoral system?
a. Wales
b. England
c. Scotland
d. Northern Ireland

4. From which TWO locations did Britain admit refugees during the late 1960s and early 1970s?
a. South East Asia
b. Ethiopia
c. Turkey
d. Uganda

5. How many member countries are there in the EU?
a. 17
b. 22
c. 27
d. 32

6. What proportion of people in the UK own their own home?
a. One-third
b. One-half
c. One-quarter
d. Two-thirds

7. During the 1980s, the largest immigrant groups to the UK came from which countries?
a. China, Japan and South Korea
b. Russia, Poland, Belarus and Ukraine
c. India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Bangladesh
d. United States, Australia, South Africa and New Zealand

8. What is the difference in the average hourly pay rate for men and women?
a. The average hourly pay rate is 5% lower for women.
b. The average hourly pay rate is 10% lower for women.
c. The average hourly pay rate is 20% lower for women.
d. No difference- the average hourly pay rate for women is the same as men.

9. What proportion of young people who became first time voters in the 2001 general election actually used their vote?
a. One in two
b. One in three
c. One in five
d. One in six

10. Why did Britain admit 28,000 people of Indian origin in the late 1960s and early 1970s?
a. They were escaping religious persecution
b. Because of an agreement with the Indian government
c. They were forced to leave Uganda
d. To address shortages in skilled labour

11. What percentage of England's population is made up of ethnic minority groups?
a. 3%
b. 9%
c. 18%
d. 24%

12. According to the 2001 Census what percentage of the UK population reported that they had a religion?
a. 45%
b. 55%
c. 65%
d. 75%

(Note: This competition is over, but try anyway and then check your answers here)

I Was On The Lamb This Weekend

2009-03-16T20:57:00.013Z

This was my first weekend as being 100% single since the beginning of October. Unlike certain other new singles (ahem) I didn't go out on the pull. Nope I spent it with fabulous friends.

On Friday night I had a few drinks with Beka and Kellie. Kellie had been in Oz for the last 6 weeks or so and thus we had some catching up to do. I had to recant the whole tale of woe. It was painful to say the least, but then I got her to talk about Oz. She had a brilliant time and I loved hearing about her trip.

On Saturday my friend, Russ, came over. I think he has some sort of H~ Heartache radar. I've dated a few different men since I've moved here, but only have had 3 serious bruises to my romantic aortic pump, J- being number 3. Each time Russ has been there within a week to take my mind off my heartache with fun and frolics. He appears without my summoning. I'm lucky to have such a friend like him. In addition to Russ I have to say that all my friends here have been wonderful and patient during this time of 'me me meness' that I've been putting them through with all the crap that's been going down. I'm really blessed. Most of them were out that weekend as well. And so we had some fun and did some frolicking.

The Lamb, a favourite local of mine, (I had my last birthday party there) celebrated the 2nd year that Adam and Liz had taken over management. Since the 2nd anniversary is cotton, they had a Cotton Eyed Joe Theme. Thus people were dressed up as Cowboys or 'Indians.' I have this orange shiny cowboy hat, which Seattle Julia got for me in New Orleans right before I moved to Mexico. I wore that and then keeping with the theme of my Disco Cowboy Hat, I wore a rather sexy seventies dress. And here I am.

Russ told me to use what I had and so I did.

And so off to the Lamb. As I said many of my mates were there. Here is a pic of a few of them. As you can see they are all related. ;-)

The best bit though was the bucking Lamb. Yes, not a bucking bull but a bucking Lamb. I was able to ride it for 16 seconds... on my 3rd attempt. Kellie was also there and she got a brilliant shot of me riding it.

Not bad for a camera phone with no real flash, eh?

On Sunday I went with Kellie and London Julia to Twickenham where we watched England stomp on France in the rugby. 34-10. We met up with some other people and had a lovely time.

So, not bad for my first weekend as a renewed single woman. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed the simplicity and levity of it all.

How Many Ways Do I Have To Stop Talking To You?

2009-03-13T12:07:00.012Z

Right, so the modern world provides us with a plethora of technology that is supposedly meant to make it easier for its inhabitants to keep in touch no matter what the distance. However in my opinion, what it's really done is made staying out of touch more complicated.

When he first met me, J- paved several avenues of communication. He asked our mutual friend for my number and started texting me the day after we met. That same day he added me as a friend to Facebook. Later that evening he added my Yahoo messenger id to his MSN. Since there were technical glitches at times between Yahoo and MSN, he insisted on knowing my MSN id. I gave it to him and logged back onto MSN, which I hadn't used in about a year. About a month later he got himself a Yahoo id so we could use web cams (The Mac version of MSN doesn't support webcams). Then he discovered that I have AIM to keep in touch with my parents, so he added me to his AIM. He found out I have SKYPE. He added me to that. More recently he started following me on Twitter. I started following him as well.

When I stayed with him at his parents place he gave me a second mobile number that he now uses for work. Thus I had that too.

In addition to all of this J- would get on to Facebook, go through my friends and add all the ones he had just met. I thought this was sweet and was his way of saying that he wanted to know me better and intended on sticking around. What I wasn't taking into account was the fact that J- already had about 400 friends at that point. He is what I would call (and have called) a Facebook whore. Currently he has almost 900 friends on Facebook! Anyway, at the height of our relationship I had more friends in common with J- than I did with anyone else.

So it's over. I need some distance, but sheesh. What a pain in the ass this has been! I've had to delete two phone numbers in addition to about 500 texts and clear my phone log, so his number is nowhere in my mobile. This will prevent me from having temptation to contact him during those vulnerable 'I miss him' moments (drunk dialling or intextication will also be avoided). I did write his numbers down so that I have a way to get in touch if I need. He does still owe me money, after all.

And so on to the internet. As I mentioned earlier, I removed my profile from Facebook so I could avoid seeing (or having the temptation to see) what he’s doing. Before I did this I had to write about 100 people and explain simply to avoid worried and shocked emails. (I’m the last person you would expect to leave Facebook). Then, I stopped following him on Twitter. Finally, I proceeded to delete him from the four previously mentioned messengers. I didn’t block him, though. If he wants to chat with me he will. Plus, there is a bit of a charge knowing that if I am on line he will see me, but I won’t see him. (Yeah, I know. That’s a bit sick.) Eventually I would like it if we were friends, but right now I really just don’t want to think about him or see him if I don’t have to.

And so, I’m exhausted. In the days before all this technology, breaking up was so simple. You just threw out their number and didn’t call them. There were no computers to confront you with their existence and you didn’t have to delete your ex in 50 million ways.

My next boyfriend will only be allowed to write me emai--OH CRAP! I still have J-’s email in my yahoo and gmail address books!!

A Holiday from Facebook

2009-03-13T10:17:00.006Z

I've decided to remove myself from Facebook for a while. Last night J- posted a status asking if anyone was up for going to a club in London Friday. I imagine the original intent was to go with me (or I'd like to think so), but regardless I don't need to see him merrily coming down on a Friday eve when one of our issues was that he couldn't be bothered to come down on a Friday to see me in the past as it was just too much of a hassle. However, if there is clubbing involved...

To be fair, I don't think that J- is a complete jerk. He may have acted like one in the last few weeks, but as I mentioned we had a good long chat and ended amicably. He does really want us to remain friends and eventually I would like to do so as well. Thus, I don't want to delete him entirely. However for now, I need to not see his activities constantly updated through my newsfeed. Even with changing preferences to hear less about him, I still see them and there is still the masochistic temptation to take a peek at his profile, which unfortunately I have been doing quite a bit since Monday.

But the most important reason for my Facebook holiday is that I'm a bit of a (HUGE) Facebook addict. I find that Facebook sucks up a lot of my free time when I could be doing other more productive and creative things.

And so, it's time for me to get back on track and become balanced again. And perhaps I'll be writing a bit more about more entertaining topics without constantly checking to see if J- is on line.

What the????

2009-03-11T17:41:00.002Z

Is there something in the water or something? It seems like I know far too many people who are going though relationship kerfuffles and/or break-ups. Myself included of course.

I think it's government conspiracy.

I Didn't Know...

2009-03-10T23:01:00.011Z

that a human breast could be flattened and smooshed like that. Ouch!

And now I believe I have some explaining to do.

Almost 2 weeks ago I had a heavy discussion with J- where I had expressed my unhappiness with our relationship and stated what I wanted to be different. Afterwards I took a long hot bath. As I was bathing I thought it was probably the right time to do the regular breast check. So, I did. To my horror, I found a lump. I freaked.

Now our previous talk had concluded with J- saying that he needed to think about things. He had reassured me that he cared for me etc. but he wasn't certain that he was ready for the serious route our relationship was taking after being together for five months. Despite this my first instinct was to pick up the phone, ring him and tell him what I had just found. However, I didn't want to do that without any medical consultation. So I didn't. This was the Friday before last.

The weekend passed and J- and I had scheduling difficulties that kept us from speaking to each other. We sent texts, but that was about it. The conversation J- said he would finish remained unfinished and I was silently going through my own little piece of hell due to this unwelcome lump in my breast.

Okay, so I can never be completely silent. I told a few friends. On Sunday night, however, despite reassurance from a friend who had been in the same position as me, I couldn't sleep at all.

That Monday I had a doctor's appointment. It was confirmed that yes, I did indeed have a lump. The doctor said it was probably nothing serious but wasn't 100% certain. He referred me to a breast surgeon. I was terrified. Added to that was the fact that I didn't sleep much the night before and so I was wreck. I ended up telling J- about everything on messenger that night. I still wanted to finish our conversation despite this and asked him to ring me. He thought it was best to wait and that I should go to bed considering everything. I did and slept like a log.

The next morning J- sent me a text asking after me. He also chatted to me on MSN, but still didn't ring. The week went on like that. He would text and MSN and not call. I was riding an emotional roller coaster going from thinking all was fine to being petrified. On the bright side , there was a possibility that J- would come down to London on Friday due to work. The fact that I would see him made me feel better about a myriad of things. We would be able to talk through things face-to-face and he would provide me with the loving, calming support I needed.

The work arrangement fell through. I asked him to come anyway considering all that was going on for me. He wouldn't for reasons which all had to do with what was convenient for him and showed absolutely no understanding for what I was going through. I was angry. We had words on line. I asked him to ring me (it was this last Friday eve now) and he said he would. Then he sent a text asking if he could ring me on Saturday during the day please and that on top of everything else that was going with us was the camel's back for me. I didn't need this crap while also going through health concerns. Plus, when I had asked 2 other male friends what they would have done in the same situation, one had said he would have come down and one had said he would have already been down to see me. I was so annoyed I didn't respond to J-'s text.

Then he vanished. At this point all I wanted to do was finish it and get this relationship out of the way so I could focus on myself. I assumed that he was avoiding me because he knew what was coming. So I published this post with some Seinfeld clips for humour. However, I came to find out he wasn't avoiding me at all. He was in fact in hospital after cutting himself and had complications due to another issue. Boy did I feel bad, but not bad enough. It was still over as far as I was concerned.

So on Monday eve we finally spoke on the phone. I told him off a bit and ended it without being wholly confrontational. J- was apologetic. Apparently when we first spoke of our difficulties, he had thought and come to the conclusion that despite how much he cared for me, he couldn't give me what I wanted right now but we never had a chance to talk. Then I found my lump and he didn't feel like it was the appropriate time to tell me what he had decided. He thought it would be horrible for me to hear that he thought he couldn't give me what I wanted while I was going through this issue with my health. And suddenly it all made sense to me. Although he didn't say this, I now understood that the result of how he was feeling ended up with him acting like a wanker- texting and messaging but never calling and not coming down when I needed him the most. Thus, we ended things amicably and J- insisted that I let him know the result of my impending appointment with the surgeon.

As I said earlier I didn't know that a breast could be flattened and smooshed like that. Yesterday I was examined, mammogramed, and ultrasounded. My breasts have never had so many hands on them in one day! All the hands who felt my breast said they could feel the lump and the tests showed....absolutely freaking nothing!!

Apparently I have a hormonal fibrous condition which can result in cysts and will probably just get worse as I get older. (Great!) The breast surgeon said I should have mammograms every 2 years from now on and recommended I take evening primrose oil tablets as that usually helps. I don't really fancy having lumpy boobs, so I will be buying those tablets.

My luck seemed to continue yesterday as I discovered that the drinks were free at the London Bloggers Meet Up and then I won the raffle and now will be able to watch the rugby for free this May.

And so dear readers after 2 weeks of hell, I come to a happy ending. I'm single again but with no hard feelings, I'm healthy and I met some cool and interesting people last night while winning rugby tickets.

Now if I only hadn't woken up this morning ill...

Update!!!

2009-03-08T13:40:00.004Z

So after posting this, I now come to discover that J- wasn't avoiding me. He was in hospital. Boy do I feel like a shit head now. Although for the reasons I'm thinking about ending this, I don't feel that shitty-just a little bit. Like one of those poop pebbles.

Anyway, at least I know now he wasn't a creep who was avoiding me because he owed me money. In fact he's sending it to me. So that's good. Phew!

I Wonder...

2009-03-08T09:01:00.012Z

If you can't get a hold of your boyfriend to break up with him, is the fact that the relationship is over implied? Am I now free to date other people although I have not had the opportunity to tell him that I would like my life a lot better without him as my boyfriend. He owes me some money and has my keys, so I don't want to piss him off by ending it via text or email.

This reminds me a Seinfeld episode where George is avoiding his girlfriend, Alison, because he knows that she wants to break up with him. Here's a clip.

Perhaps I should get a mutual friend of ours to break up with him for me. This what Alison eventually had to do. Ironically the reasons Alison had or very similar to mine.

I'm hoping that when I do finally speak to him and let him know it's over, he doesn't behave like Maura did.

So should I just proceed with my life as though I'm single although I can't get a hold of him to end this properly or am I stuck as a lame duck girlfriend until he actually hears me say the words, "It's over"?

Many thanks to Seinfeld for providing me with humour about this whole affair.

Sigh of Relief!

2009-03-03T19:15:00.007Z

My students are quite young, 10 and 11. In my school this is the lowest level of the Middle School, and as a result they have the amount of innocence varies from child to child. Some still believe in Santa others don't. Some more a bit know about the birds and bees than others. They do have the beginnings of 'Sex Ed' at this year level, so by the end of the year they all know how they came to be.

As a teacher I am legally required to report any suspicion we may have of a child being abused. This is something I take extremely seriously. I came across something yesterday that gave me pause. One of the fables written by a little girl in my Resource Support class was disturbing. Now, this little girl is a lovely, quiet girl who always tries her best and really wants to do well. However, when I read her fable I was horrified. In her story a bunch of animals gang up on a wolf who kept trying to eat them. That would have been fine, but she wrote. " They got some rope. They raped him. The wolf begged them to let him go, but they refused until the wolf promises not to try to eat them any more."

I freaked. It was 5:30 in the morning (I get up early to do my marking), so I jumped online and emailed our counsellor, my principal, and assistant principal telling them about what she had written. The counsellor suggested I ask her if she really understood what she wrote, gauge her response and we would continue from there.

I was nervous about this. What was going on with this poor little girl that she felt the need to express this in a fable? What horror was she going through and by whom? After I had handed back their papers and had my class on their individual tasks, I pulled her aside and asked, "Can you tell me what this means?"

"Oh," she looked as if she had just had a realization, "I see. I left out words. 'They wrapped him up with it' was what I was meant to write."

So she thought 'wrapped' was spelled 'raped' and of course spell check hadn't corrected her.

Phew!

Random Ramblings

2009-03-02T11:39:00.015Z

-I got my hair cut this weekend. I've been trying to grow it out and I told my hairdresser this. After I added that I wanted some fringe (that's bangs for you folk in the US), he talked me into layering the top as I grow it out. That night I went out with some friends and one of them took a pic of me. Now I ask you, does this look like I'm growing my hair out? It’s the shortest it's ever been!! My hairdresser is fantastic and I get what I pay for. (I've been known to practically not eat for a week so I can afford him) But I don't know how this is growing out my hair. People are all complimenting me on it, but I find myself tugging on my hair as if that will get it to grow faster somehow.

-Someone new has been reading blog and spent most of last night reading it. There are about 70+ page views from this IP Address so far. Their first visit was this past Friday. Well that is the first visit I saw was on Friday within the last week. If their visits began before last week, I can't tell and I've not been checking Sitemeter much. Maybe I should. I'm thrilled I have an avid reader, but 70+ views??? Surely, I am not that interesting. The location is unknown, but the language is English UK. So it's someone in the UK, but who? I think I may know and if I'm right, I will be finding out soon.

-Because of those 70+ views by one person, I have done some minor editing of previous posts so as not to be obvious as to who I am or where I live, etc. I've also deleted a post or two. If you left me comments on those blogs, my apologies. (Oh and if you are the one who spent most of your Sunday night and part of your Friday and Saturday reading my blog, please feel free to follow it. See "My Stalkers" on the right-hand side. And welcome!)

-I couldn't fall asleep until 1AM and was wide-awake at 4:26. There are many things rambling about in my head concerning health, relationships, work, money, visa crap, etc. Many of which I can do nothing about as I lie in bed at 4:30AM. I got up and did what I could do, but now I'm shattered and procrastinating by blogging instead of working. Oh and my little darlings with no concept of self-editing are saying things like, "Your hair looks great Miss M, but you look exhausted." Always good to know when you feel horrid that yes it's true-you do in fact look like shit. But hey, I've got great hair.

-My "Inner Angst Cure" is working somewhat, but then more crap just piles itself on my plate. One of those pieces of crap finds me going to the doctor straight after school today. Yuch! I hate hate hate going to the doctor. The dentist is the only one I hate more. But needs must.

So that’s it for me for now. Happy Monday! I hope this week is not nearly as long as last week.

Yup, I'm Commitmentphobic!

2009-02-27T12:04:00.005Z

J- and I are having some problems, which I'm not going into for obvious reasons. Last night we had pretty heavy talk. Towards the end of it J- said, "So, what you want from me is a bit more commitment?"

"WHAT??!! NO!!" I blurted, my heart racing. "Not a commitment. We're not seeing other people. Isn't that a commitment already?"

Yeah, I have issues.

Inner Angst Cure

2009-02-22T14:11:00.008Z

I've been down in the dumps for a few weeks now. I'm excellent at hiding it. My friends had no idea that I'd been blue unless I told them. Aside from one cryptic tweet which read, "Woke up seeing things differently. Maybe I need glasses? ;) Seriously, it's past time for a few changes difficult as that may initially be," I remained silent. And even then when I did mention something I made a joke about it. Why should I let the world know of my inner angst? It's MY inner angst after all.

Then again knowing people care about you and are concerned is nice. I got a concerned tweet back from a friend and then I told a few people was up. However, aside from almost bursting into tears while I was at the pub with Linds on Thursday, I more or less just wallowed in my own pain silently.

When I'm depressed I drink..... a lot. I started drinking a lot two weeks ago and that's when the pain really started. I could feel it in the back of my head, but refused to acknowledge it's existence. Thus, the drinking. I joked about my four day drinking binge- celebrating my Fridays on Thursday and continued celebrating Friday throughout the weekend finally stopping on Monday. Fortunately I had the week off for half term break. Despite my self medication, slowly and surely the pain slithered in. I continued to drink through my half term break, although less zealously on through the weekend and by this last Monday there was no denying it. I was seriously depressed and teetering on the brink of who knows what.

There are several reasons for my depression, but I'm not going to go into them now. After all, they're depressing. So after getting practically falling down drunk for about the 8th time in 2 weeks on Thursday (I was a barrel of drunken laughs after almost bursting into tears), I decided that I needed to follow what I had said in my initial tweet just two days before. I needed to make some changes.

First, the most obvious one- cut down on my drinking if not stop altogether. I'm not an alcoholic...yet. But if I keep drinking like this, I will be.
Second, eat healthier. I've been eating like crap lately too.
Third, limit the time I'm on the internet and in front of the television. It's pathetic. I'm online and sitting in front of the telly about 6 hours a day on average. It's not like I'm doing anything aside from updating my Twitter status and chatting with people on messenger. Hell, I'm not even blogging.
Fourth, exercise more. I am always a lot happier when I exercise regularly.
Fifth, write more. Work on that damn book that's been rambling about in my brain. I just won't be logged in when I do this. Or, maybe I can write the old fashioned way-with a pen and paper.
Sixth, only work 2 hours after the work day is ended at the most or on the weekends. I tend to overwork when I'm depressed too. Keeps me from thinking about the troubles gnawing at my soul. Issues, by the way, which can be dealt with.

This brings me to my final the most import step. I need to take action and tackle all the reasons bringing on my internal turmoil and dark thoughts. They aren't too big or too numerous that they can't be dealt with. There's a great song by the White Stripes called "Little Acorns," which will be my theme song as I get on top of all this. I am blessed with good health, a decent job, supportive family and friends and a roof over my head. With those gifts I'll buck past this angst I'm certain. If after instituting this plan I still have dark thoughts and am my self-destructive behaviour continues, I will seek professional help.

As always, writing this all down has been therapeutic. And now for your entertainment, here's "Little Acorns."

Guilt upon Accusation?

2009-02-17T20:13:00.001Z

Sounds like the Salem Witchcraft Trails, but it's actually New Zealand's copyright law.

My Inner Spirit

2009-02-08T15:21:00.002Z

I love quizzes like this, especially when I think the result is highly accurate.

What's your inner spirit?

Dragon
You feel free. Your loyal to your friends and family and you stick up for them whenever trouble comes about.

How do you compare?
Take this test! | Tests from Testriffic

Foxy is Back!!!

2009-02-08T02:48:00.005Z

I still haven't seen him, but I heard him (or her or them) tonight. It was quite creepy. It sounded a bit like this, but went on for about 10 minutes, which leads me to believe that perhaps it was Foxy and his/her offspring.

Foxy being foxy has been getting busy.

I really have missed foxy and our moments of looking into each other's eyes. It would be nice to catch up with him (her) again. Especially considering all the changes.

How'd I Get To Be So Damn Smart?

2009-02-04T21:08:00.003Z

I think that I'm the last person that one would want to seek out for relationship advice. After all I'm a selfish passive aggressive OCD commitment phobic with a fear of abandonment. This is, admittedly, my own completely unbiased diagnosis. You know, J- must be an extremely patient person to put up with me and all my relationship oddities. Perhaps it's best that we're separated by 150 miles and don't get to see each other frequently. But, I digress.

In the last three days I've had three chats with female friends (one by messenger, one by email, and one over a meal) and apparently I said some pretty wise stuff. Who knew? All these women thanked me after talking to me. I'm not going to go into detail about the conversations in order to protect my friends' privacy, but the most recent conversation ended with a friend thanking me for my advice. My response was, "I gave you advice??" She said yes and that my conversation with her had given her some perspective that she couldn't get elsewhere. That's when it came to me...

I'm going to begin a radio talk show and call it "The H Perspective". My friend told me that my tag line for the American version should be "The Viewpoint from Across the Pond".

Hmmmmm perhaps a podcast to discuss people's personal issues? And maybe I shouldn't call it "The H Perspective". Maybe I should call it "The Accidental Therapist".

Then again, like I said, I'm the last person I would want to seek out for relationship advice.

Some Cool Dudes (Warning: Adult-well big kid really-Content)

2009-02-04T18:22:00.012Z

It snowed and snowed and snowed some more on London this past week. London's infrastructure isn't really prepared for this amount snow, so the city ground to a halt. Our school is located in Cobham, which received more snow than London, and down a bit of a windy road making it near to impossible to get to. Thus, there was no school for students or staff on Monday or Tuesday. So what did I do?

Took advantage of it of course and played. On Monday I chose to lie in and thus missed the snowball fight between my Surbiton friends and a family with children (the children kicked their butts), but I woke in time to meet Beka, join the rest of the bunch, drink some coffee with Baileys and then walk along the river walk into Kingston where we met John, who was the only one among us who had to work, for lunch.

And so, here are some pictures I took with my phone along the way....

First, here is the picture of the view of my street from my bedroom window when I woke up.

This is the park around the corner from me. It's across the street from Ces and John's house and was where the snowball fight that I missed took place. Notice the snowman in the lower right corner.

This was an accidental overexposure along the river walk into Kingston. I rather liked the way it came out. It looks a bit like a painting. Oh those people with their backs to the camera are my mates.

This is more what the river walk should look like.

Here are some cool dudes I saw along the way:

Ole'!

This is a mangy Starbucks drinking, cigarette smoking bench sitter.

These two guys were holding a sign that said, "Happy Snow Day!"

He was far too dashing to pass up:

Later in the evening, I went for a drink with my Surbiton pals at the Lamb. I heard rumour of snowman making that had occurred in the back garden. When I arrived, Mark told me I needed to check out the snowman because he was massive. And, Mark was right. That snowman was massive.

I think he has a bit of a dirty smile, don't you?

That was my Monday. My Tuesday was just a lazy day of marking papers and Facebook and twittering. I did manage to get off my sofa and out of the house to head to Beka's for pizza later in the eve. Today was back to work without students and tomorrow, weather permitting, we'll be back to business as usual. So that'll be two days of classes and then a week off-not too shabby.

Helpless Feeling

2009-02-01T21:42:00.000Z

I was at a girly sleepover last night at Em's when I got a text from McP telling me that Shaun's mum had passed away from cancer. I quickly sent Shaun a text with my condolences, but what I really wanted to do was climb through my phone and come out on his end and give him a hug. But, I can't.

Today, I found out that my friend, Steve, also lost his father to cancer. Both these deaths have been coming for a while, but I know from experience that just because you know a death of a love one is inevitable doesn't make it any easier. I'm sending Steve a text now, but again I just want to crawl though my phone....

Rae expressed how I feel pretty well here. Unfortunately, I can't even offer my sofa or give a real hug.

When my friends overseas are hurting, I hate that I made the choice to move here.

Too Much Telly

2009-01-29T20:42:00.002Z

Yes it's true, I've been watching far too much telly lately. Mostly I'm watching it while I work. Last night it was while I typed up 24 Things. Tonight, I'm working, cleaning and it's just on in the background to keep me company.

And for the first time, I saw this add. I had to find it and post it to share with all you all who don't live over here and thus are missing out.

Enjoy!

25 Things You Might Not Have Known

2009-01-28T19:33:00.010Z

I got tagged to do this three times on Facebook, so I decided to write it here on my blog and then it will upload to Facebook and I will tag away.

The directions are that you write 25 random things about yourself and then tag 25 people to do the same...

1. I'm an American, but I teach English in England.
2. I was born in Minnesota, spent my childhood growing up in Michigan and my adulthood growing up in Seattle, but it wasn't until I moved to England that I went to Switzerland and learnt how to downhill ski. Love it and have skied every season since.
3. I fall over, bump into something, or knock something over every day...yes every day.
4. I've been hit by cars twice- once when I was 11 and once when I was 21. I was very lucky and only received small scrapes both times, but my bicycle was not so lucky the second time. It was destroyed.
5. I've walked along the Great Wall and then left it via a cable swing thingy- it was quite a thrill.
6. Every man I've ever dated since I was 20 has either been some type of artist or musician or both. I don't seek them out, I swear!
7. I'm terrified of dark enclosed places like closets or basements. I have been ever since my Aunt Julie locked me in the basement when I was 3 after allowing me to watch 'Night Gallery'.
8. I'm the Narrator on the American version of the CD Rom Little Bridge. Once it comes out that is. We're still waiting for that, but at least I've been paid.
9. I'm beginning to think I might be rather dull as I'm only on 9 and am wondering how the hell I am going to think of 16 other things. Hey, I know. I can add!
10. From August to November I lost 14.2% of my body weight and gained £350 in our work's "Biggest Loser" contest.
11. From November until now I've gained about 9% of my body weight back. Look, not only can I add but I can also figure percentage.
12. I lived in Mexico for two years, travelled to many different places within Mexico, but never made it to Mexico City.
13. I sang in regular choir, jazz choir, church youth choir and madrigals. I also took vocal music lessons for 3 years and went to a 'vocal music camp' 2 summers in a row. I played piano from the age of 8 until 14 and also played flute. Now I have a keyboard in the corner of my flat that I haven't touched in 3 years. I still have a a deep appreciation for and a very diverse taste in music.
14. I've met the band Wilco and had a bit of a drunken conversation with Jeff Tweedy. He's nice.
15. When I was 9 my father refused to let me leave the table until I had eaten my Brussels sprouts. I sat there for 2 1/2 hours and then my mother sent me to my room Brussles sprouts untouched on my plate.
16. I had a cat, China, for 8 years when I was Seattle. I was constantly getting sick during this time. Then I moved to Mexico and discovered I was allergic to cats.
17. Russel Brand and Barack Obama are following me on Twitter. I don't know if that's creepy or cool. I'll go with cool.
18. My knees are scarred from falling off my skateboards, roller skates, bikes and out of trees when I was young.
19. I've been brainwashed by my boyfriend into becoming an Arsenal supporter. In fact as I type this I'm watching Sky Sports 1 to keep tabs on the game since it isn't televised tonight. They are losing 1-0 with only a few minutes left. No, my boyfriend isn't here. I'm watching because I want to and yes if we spilt up I'd still support Arsenal.
20. I called myself a Sonics fan but didn't realise they had left Seattle until I went back this past December. Screw the Sonics! (This also shows you how much I don't pay attention to pro basketball now that I live over here)
21. Arsenal just scored making it 1-1. In fact now that's the final score. I'm relieved.
22. I'm in the process of getting my UK Permanet Leave to Remain. In one year I'll be dual-citizen. (fingers crossed)
23. I set alarms on my mobile to remind of things. Everyday I am reminded when it's near time to leave for work and near time to leave for home. I don't really need those reminders, but they're comforting somehow. I also have them set to take out my rubbish or recycling or water my plants, etc. (I do need those ones at times)
24. I have horrible luck with cars. Not just being hit by them, but when I'm driving them. It's never my fault, I swear-and I've witnesses who will agree that it is never my fault. I no longer own a car. Don't really need to living here. I find not owning a car amazingly liberating and safer for me and others.
25. I tend to be distracted by my reflection. It's not a vanity thing but more like I need to make sure that's really me or that I'm really here. I annoy myself with this so I can only imagine how others feel.

YAY!!! I got to 25 and it only took me all freaking night! I'm going to bed and once this uploads to Facebook, I'll tag people. :-)

Gettin' Dirty and Stayin' Safe

2009-01-22T11:56:00.004Z

On a lunch break from an incredibly busy day, so did my usual Facebook check. My friend, Marianne, posted this hilarious condom advertisement.

I was rolling and very watchful for students or prudent staff.
(Is it wrong that this advert turned me on a bit?)

And then I found the outtakes... and I was rolling even more.

Unfortunately the embedding for the last outtake was disabled, so you'll just have to go to YouTube and see it yourself

And now I'm back to teaching my young pre-teen innocents. What a dirty teacher they have!

Yay!!!

2009-01-20T20:05:00.004Z

And today
After 8 years
The White House magnet
Purchased for me by my old flatmate in Seattle
And travelling with me to Mexico
Then here, to the UK
Has finally
Been turned the
Right side up.

For the first time in 8 years I have real hope for US.

Yay!

Through the Eyes of 3 Year Old

2009-01-18T01:17:00.008Z

Kim and Andrew's daughter, Lila, took this picture of me with my mobile at Em's birthday party in September. I just came across it as I was trolling through the gallery.

I think lil' Miss Lila might have some talent. It's now my Facebook profile pic and I just may use it here as well.

Is No News Good News or Is It Good News That There Is No News?

2009-01-17T15:38:00.011Z

I've noticed that I tend to blog less these days. I've also noticed that other people whose blogs I follow have also been blogging less as well. I'm not entirely certain about them, but my reason for for the lack of posts is that there hasn't really been anything 'blog worthy' to report.

Overall things are good. Can't complain. No boyfriends vanishing, no getting shouted at in the middle of the night by my bitch-of-a-neighbour downstairs, no mysterious rash making me look like a raccoon, etc. Nope things are generally going well.

Dammit, I have no material!

Perhaps that's not a bad thing. Although, I have missed blogging in the past 2 weeks, I must admit.

I'm back in London now and have been for the last 2 weeks. Here are some exciting highlights from my life during that time.

- Shopped and shopped and shopped some more in Seattle. I don't know why the economy's so horrid. Surely the amount of money I spent alone should have brought it around.

- Have lovely new US driver's license with picture that makes me look like a 'soccer mom'.

- Met Todd for coffee and had lovely chat. I officially approve of him, Rae. You may marry him now.

- Julia used her usual culinary brilliance and hosted a soup party. It could have also been a 'dog party' too, as at one point there were four dogs froilicing about. The party was lovely and filling and I was able to catch up with friends I had not yet seen, among them were Davina and Lisa. I ended up staying the night there and so did Davina. We were like little girls at a sleepover.

- Left Julia and went to stay with Tania. We went to the Connor Byrne to ring it in. (I wonder if all the time I spent at pubs like this in Seattle was an impetus for my move to England) Katie came along, so I got to see her. Tania's friends Erin and James and others, whose names I've forgotten, were also there.

- Rented 'Death at a Funeral' and 'Hot Fuzz' (if you haven't noticed from what I call my comment links I love 'Hot Fuzz'), ordered some Thai with Tania, Katie, Chris (who had to leave as he was quite ill) and Phun. I thought it was completely ironic that I went to Seattle to rent two British films. 'Death at a Funeral' was quite good.

- Left on the 2nd to head back home to London. After about 24 hours, thanks to delays and rebooking on different flights, I was home in my flat.

- Work, work, jet-lag, work, work, jet-lag, work, work, work, sleep when I could.

- Went to an Arsenal game with J- the weekend after my return. Cold, cold, cold. (There's more to this story that just might make a rather humorous entry- Ah Ha! Material!!!) They won (thank God), so I've been told I'm allowed to return to Emirates.

- Began the process to being granted 'permanent leave to remain'. Have to get US Passport renewed first. Now have the world's ugliest passport photo.

That's about it really. I'm looking forward to Tuesday and plan on having people over to watch the transfer of power. I will then take my Whitehouse magnet, which has been upside down for eight years, and turn it right-side up.

So that's two weeks of me for you.

No news isn't necessarily good news. No news is just no news.

I Need More Time!!

2008-12-29T17:18:00.006Z

It's raining and people here are so happy to the weather has returned to normal from the snow that blanketed the city before I arrived.

Since I last wrote....

- My flight from Tucson to Phoenix was delayed by 3 hours, which means I had to be re-booked out of Phoenix to Seattle and arrived 4 hours later than what was planned. Steve met me at the airport and took me to Todd and Raechelle's. Finally, I met Todd and his kids. It felt like I already knew him as we've be virtual friends for a long time. Despite being weary from travel and lingering jet-lag, I had loads of fun. They are all lovely people. You can read a bit more about that here.

- Rae dropped me off along with her cat, Ruby, which I get to use while I'm here (Thank you Rae!) at Steph's and Steve, Steph and I caught up. I slumped off to bed and had my first full night's sleep. When I woke, I no longer felt hazy. The Jet-lag had gone. Hooray!

-Yesterday I went shopping with Steph and it was very successful. We both don't like shopping and discovered that when you put two women who don't like shopping together, it end up being enjoyable, fast and yielding fruitful results. Then in the evening we went to dinner at West 5 Lounge and Julia and Chris came down to meet us. There was much laughter and my face hurt by the end of the eve.

- Today I'm off to meet Sandra and eat and shop some more. I still have things I would like to get over here. Calls and plans also need to be made.

There are a load of people I would like to see, but I'm not certain how to make this happen. A week just isn't enough time. :-(

Twas the Day After Xmas

2008-12-26T18:24:00.006Z

Happy Solstice! Happy Happy!

2008-12-21T10:02:00.004Z

So today on my side of the pond the sun rose at 8:05 and set tonight at 15:55. It is the shortest day of the year, and this year I hardly noticed. Normally the lack of sunlight really weighs on me, but not this year!

Things continue to go well aside from the fact that my personal laptop has gone all buggy. The jack where the power chord connects finally went kaput. So, no power gets to my laptop. This means no promised pictures.

Other than that all is going well (touch wood, touch wood). And, now the sun returns.

Oh and here is a funny anecdote from work:

One of my students came into homeroom the other day and announced loudly, "Miss Martin, my dad went to a Christmas Party last night and got so drunk that he accidentally pushed his contact to the back of his eye. He got it out eventually, but it was difficult." I informed my student that while I appreciated the story, I didn't think that his father would appreciate him telling it to me and the rest of the class. His response, "Oh my dad won't care. It was funny." This is one of the many reasons why I love my job, but I still need these next two weeks off.

I'm off on Tuesday to the US. I'm going to Tucson to my grandma and my parents will be there. Then I'm off to Seattle where I will be seeing many fabulous friends, among them Raechelle and her fiance Todd, who I've yet to actually meet face to face. Can't wait!

So, hooray and yay and Happy Solstice to all. Now, I need to break out some candels and give a little thanks before heading off to meet the boy.

Why Worry?

2008-12-09T19:50:00.004Z

I just spent the last four days (more or less) with J-. :-) All weird worries, feelings, etc. have dissipated. He got quite ill, however, which is why he stayed as long as he did, and I had to deal with a bit of 'man-flu'. I'll be seeing him Thursday and I've Friday off.

Oh deary me, I do like this man.

And I used the b-word and he used the g-word. Well, no I didn't actually say the word 'boyfriend'. To be honest I have a difficult time saying it, but I copped to it. On Friday, the bouncers of the club we were at jokingly pushed him outside the ropes because he supports Arsenal. One of the bouncers turned to me and in front of J- asked, "Is this your boyfriend?"

"Yes," I replied.

He pointed to the club. "Then you should go in there and find yourself a new one."

On Sunday, J- convinced me to upgrade my cable package (he's paying for it) so he could watch sports as well as other channels I didn't have since he is here so much. On the phone to my provider he said, "Actually, it's my girlfriend's cable."

We spoke a bit of things between us, clarified things, and I'm back to feeling happy with this whole thing once again. It's the distance that drives me nuts. Literally, it drives me nuts. My imagination goes a bit haywire. I just think too much. Something I've been told a myriad of times.

I think I'm going to return to keeping quiet about my feelings surrounding this again. It has been good for me to virtually vent, but he has no idea that I blog. I think it's just best if I return to writing about abstract things that strike me funny or entertaining occurrences in my life.

Again thank you for reading.

One more thing (as Columbo would say), I went to a Georgian masquerade ball this weekend for Khrisslyn's hen-do. I'll post some pics when I get a chance.

Spoke Too Soon

2008-12-05T06:16:00.009Z

Of course as soon as I put down in words my frustration, J- contacts me and asks me to join him in town tonight and go clubbing with him.

While this makes me feel better, it doesn't solve some of the issues I'm having with this relationship. However, I do really enjoy his company and fancy him quite a bit too. I will have fun this evening and take it as it comes, which is what I really should be doing anyway I know. Vamos a ver (we'll see)

And tomorrow is Khrisslyn's hen-do. Good times to be had. I just wish I wasn't still sick.

Higland Happiness, London Lonliness

2008-12-04T21:18:00.013Z

Again, it's been a while- usual excuses.

This last weekend was James and Dawn's wedding. It was absolutely lovely and a spectacular time.

Stupidly, I left my camera at home, so these pictures were ll taken with my phone. Here are a few snaps from the wedding.

The Ben Wyvis Hotel in Strathpeffer, where it all took place:

A bit of Strathpeffer:

Me in my dress with the cape on:

Me in my dress with the cape off:
(I had this picture taken to send to J-, who replied with 'Stunning')

A young kilted lad. His kilt was 22 years older than he was:

The happy couple cutting cake:

Dawn and Em and some lovely gentlemen:
(They were quite a fun lot. It was by far the best singles table that I have ever sat at.)

The beautiful single gals:
(From left to right Em, Sarah, me, and Holy)

The happy couple's first dance as a married couple:Holly had hired a car and she was quite familiar with the area we were having spent some time there. So while we were at the reception, she offered to take us on a bit of a Highland tour the next day. Our flight back to London wasn't until 3:50, so we all agreed. Here are some pics from that drive.

I don't remember the name of these two lochs, but they were quite beautiful:

This is Eilean Donan castle located on Loch Duich

And this is certainly a loch whose name you've heard before, Loch Ness.
Unfortunately, by the time we arrived at Loch Ness we were short on time and just barely made it to Inverness to get our flight home. Thus, I was only able to grab a quick picture and didn't get any quality time for Nessie watching.

And so home in cold, dreary London where I subsequently became ill and had to take two days off work. Back also to my love life. After the entire disappearing incident where all was explained things seemed to be progressing well between us. However, in the last four days the distance, barely having a chance to see each other, and other factors which are private have begun to weigh heavily upon me. Part of me thinks that once I see J- again, I'll have a better idea of my feelings. The other part of me wants to cancel next week's plans with him (We're not going to see each other this weekend either-that will make three weeks in a row without seeing each other!) and just get over it and move on with my life. However, I know that's just my frustration with all the previous mentioned factors talking and has nothing whatsoever to do with how much I like him. After all if I didn't enjoy his company so much, it wouldn't upset me that I won't see him for a while.

I'm a Loser, Baby part 2

2008-11-28T15:48:00.002Z

You'll remember a while back that I mentioned how a group of us at work were entering a 'Biggest Loser' contest at work. Well, today was the last weigh in.

I was doing quite well. I was in the lead for almost the entire contest. Pounds were flying off my body. I was cycling daily and running on the weekends and I paid strict attention to everything that went into my body.

People made comments on how my skin had improved. As more weight came off people noticed changes in my face and saw it on my body. My jeans, which were once too tight, were too big. It was such a thrill and I was feeling great.

Then I met J-

J- loves to cook. Loves to make me big roast dinners. Our mutual friend, Dave, described J- as a 'feeder.' J- fed me well and I ate it all up.

Plus, I eat as an emotional release sometimes. For example I ordered a large stuffed crust Pizza and jalapeño poppers after I discovered J- was okay last weekend, and I ate it all that night. Why even today I've devoured a large Galaxy chocolate bar.

I stopped cycling to work because it got too cold and therefore possibly icy. Aside from walking into Kingston to do some shopping Thursday night, I did no exercise this week.

So, I knew I had probably blown it. It had been a month since I had weighed in. I stepped on the scale and...

I lost 6 more pounds bringing the percentage of my initial weight lost to %14.2!

I was the biggest loser! And, now I am £360 richer. I just need to keep it off while dating this feeder.

For your listening pleasure. I'm off to Scotland for James and Dawn's wedding.

Barry Scary

2008-11-25T15:34:00.004Z

All was explained and J-'s disappearing was explained. There was nothing he could have done and it was also not his fault. Trust me. I'm just relieved that he's okay and things have reverted to normal.

In other news, apparently Barry Manilow is considered to be a punishment by a judge in Colorado along with Dolly Parton, Karen Carpenter and Barney the Dinosaur.

Click here to read all about it.