life is a phoenix

anyone ever heard of volkswagen?

2011-05-01T01:06:00.000+01:00

I now drive a 2011 Volkswagen Jetta. I'm completely smitten with it. We bonded, my Jetta and I, within minutes of me driving off the lot. In fact, when we left the lot at 4:02pm on Thursday the car had 28 miles on it. By Saturday at 4:00pm, it had 205 miles on it. I had to show it around town. You know, all of the hang out spots.

All I can see in this photo is the little bit of schmutz on the letter E.
I have to go out and clean that off, now.
Of course, it doesn't bother me enough to take another photo.

I've had three cars in my life - a Ford Mustang, a Toyota Spyder MR2 and now my new VW. I loved my Mustang (Molly) and my Spyder (Kashi)...but my new car is by far my favorite. That's right. It's that good. And the Germans aren't even paying me to say that. YET.

Now this begs the question....Why has no one told me about Volkswagen before now? What kind of friends let me walk around in my German carless life? I mean what's a simple, "Hey, Paige - you know what make of car would be really good for you? VOLKSWAGEN." See...that would have taken five seconds. But OH, NO. No one bothered. People just don't care anymore.

My new bff. I wonder what his name will be...

However, after the fact I've had no less than fifteen people say, "Oh, yeah...that Jetta suits you." Well, thanks. Thanks a heap. I know that now.

But I forgive you. I know I have to learn these things on my own. It'll make me stronger. I'll be fine.

Now I know.

And I might be converted for life.

:)

I'm a VW believer now.

happy easter!

2011-04-24T16:27:00.001+01:00

...from my mother's flower garden.

Maybe the Easter Bunny will bring me a macro lens.

what happens when i open this door...

2011-04-21T01:46:00.000+01:00

....OH! So this is where I put my blog! I was wondering where I'd left that. So glad I found it. *Whew*

I know, I know. I'm a loser. Abandoning my blog like old socks. I'm ever so sorry. I've thought about the blog and it's adorable, sweet readers every day. A thought pops into my head and I think, "Oooo...I really must make a post about that!" And theeeeen....nothing.

When I get sad, I think of the blog. When I'm happy, I think of the blog. When something funny happens, I laugh. Then I think of the blog. Then I think, "Hmm...probably shouldn't post that on the blog." (These insights into my head are riveting, aren't they?)

I have thought about you guys a lot. All of the comments and emails asking me if I'm dead and threatening bodily harm if I don't post soon are very sweet. I both fear and love you. In your face, Machiavelli.

The quote that sums up the last two weeks of my life was uttered by one of my co-workers: "Just don't break it." I'm working on that in my life in general.

What did I do when I wasn't writing random stuff in here all this time? Who knows.

You know what this place needs? (Yes, besides posts more frequent than Halley's comet.) It needs photogs. I'm going to take some. Not sure what of, but I miss photogs, too.

There now...I've gone and promised you some pictures. Am I rambling? I'm tired. I'm going to take a nap.

what's that noise?

2011-03-31T03:56:00.000+01:00

I heard my blog whimpering and crying in the corner so I thought I'd come over and see if it was okay. Apparently...it's lonely.

I'm sorry that I've been MIA yet again this year. Lots of stuff going on. However, right now it's 9:54pm and since I've slept a total of 8 hours in the past 48, I'm going to reacquaint myself with my bed.

I'll be back soon. Honest.

mommy text

2011-03-19T17:06:00.001Z

I got this text this week from my mom. So cute. It made me smile. More evidence that I'm still two. Tengo dos años.

another strange crush

2011-03-13T04:23:00.000Z

I'm in love.

With a shoe.

About a year or two ago I saw an article about some Italian running shoes that had toes. It said that they were more comfortable, lightweight and good for your feet because it was like running barefoot (sans the rocks, sticks and pavement ripping your feet to shreds). I was intrigued. My feet always hurt, so anything new appeals. After a bit of online ~~stalking~~ research, I discovered that they were only sold online or in Italy. I vowed that the next time I was in Rome I'd get a pair. Then I promptly forgot about them.

Today I was in the mall and I just happened to glance down and I saw a guy (who, incidentally, looked exactly like P Diddy) wearing a pair. SCORE. I accosted him and politely begged him to tell me where he got those shoes. He pointed to a store on the lower level only a few feet away.

I yelled thanks over my shoulder as I ran towards the store.

Went into the store, tried on every style they had, blah blah blah....I'm in love.

WITH A SHOE. (Two of them, actually, but don't tell them. They both think they are the one.)

They are all they claim to be. I love them. I call them Ray and Jay.

This is the pair I have

I've been wearing them all day and it feels like I don't have on shoes at all. I'll let you know how the running goes, but the aerobics I did today went well.

Here's the website, in case you're curious: http://www.vibramfivefingers.com/index.htm

no estoy embarazada

2011-03-12T01:57:00.001Z

That says I'm not pregnant. I just thought it looked better in Spanish. I feel I made have made a misleading post yesterday when I mentioned "decisions." I didn't mean to stir up a frenzy about me making major lifestyle changes. I'm not.

I'm just seriously toying with/looking into actually learning Spanish FINALLY. It's quite the commitment but as I work for a Spanish company I figure it might be useful. I've slowly started roping my Spanish-speaking friends and co-workers into helping me, so that's a start. I'm just not ready to fly the declaration banner until I find and secure a private tutor. I know that I need "special" attention as I'm a ~~short attention span~~ "special" learner. Tengo dos años. (I'm two.)

Also, speaking of creating more wrinkles in my brain, I'm also thinking of going back to school. I'll let you know how it goes. I need a masters degree. I don't know why, but I need one. Tengo dos años. I know I've said that already, but it explains all my actions.

So nothing exciting, just some learnings I'm trying to collect.

Oh, and by the way - I did finally cut my hair. Like...six weeks ago. It was 8-9 inches shorter but still long enough that no one really noticed. Just realized I'm a little surprised and kinda upset that no one noticed NINE INCHES OF MISSING HAIR. No me gusta.

Anyway. I just had a donut and now I'm over it.

bad blogger. BAD BLOGGER!

2011-03-11T03:18:00.002Z

Before I explain that title, this is my 200th post. That is the most interesting thing I have to say today.

- exeunt 90% of readers -

I've been an exceptionally bad blogger lately, even for me. It just hasn't been in me or my schedule. I promise to rise again, as the title of my blog suggests. I just need a minute. Or 48,890.

I've not totally abandoned reading blogs, either, and I will catch up on what I've missed. I've got lots of life decisions biting at my ankles (both made and yet to be made) and I just need a minute.

Pass me a Twix.

Oh, and I'd really love it if you don't all abandon me. That'd be swell.

Here's a photo:

Me and the Bear at lunch last week

I figure if he insists on closing his eyes like that in every photo I may as well just go with it.

choose me, stuff me, name me

2011-03-07T00:35:00.000Z

Last week, the Bear and I built a bear for Valentine's Day. (What did you think the title meant? Shame on you.) We were a little late for the actual holiday, but better late than never. We've built one each year we've been together and this was number three.

Call me a kid, but I love this place. It's so cute. It never gets old. First, you choose your teddy from the wall of teddies.

Then you pick up the limp skin of your new teddy and move to the next station. (Okay, this step is not so cute, but just grab your lose skin and pretend it's all okay.)

I already loved him before he was stuffed. Speaking of which, the next step is...you guessed it:

We stood in line (with all of the little kids) to have our teddy brought to life. When it was our turn, we both stood on the pedal that makes the fluff flow.

The nice lady waiting for us was called Cheryl. She helped us stuff our teddy. She also made us kiss and rub his heart, jump up and down and spin in place three times. And we happily did....because we're three.

She made him come to life by filling him with fluff love.

Then she sewed him up so his fluff would stay in. She assured us that no teddy was harmed in the sewing process.

Then we had to name him. We weren't as creative as usual this time - we called him Midnight.

After we did the birth certificate we had a new teddy! Welcome to the family, Midnight Teddy!

I'm sure his brothers Perry Bear and Teddy Too will be happy to see him!

Teddy Too (left), Perry Bear (right)

t is for thanksgiving index

2011-02-25T01:08:00.000Z

Last November we held our second annual Thanksgiving Dinner in England. I realize that was practically an age ago, but lots has happened to me since then so I’m just getting around to it. Here are some statistics from the event.

Don’t look at me like that – this is not the strangest thing I’ve done on this blog. You know the craziness drill around here.

Getting ready to cook

Number of people who attended last year: 14

Percentage of repeat guests this year from last year: 72

Number of people last year who had ever been to a Thanksgiving dinner: 1

Number of those people who were me: 1

Number of people who attended last year who admitted Googling “Thanksgiving” because they had no idea what to expect: 5

Number of people attending this year: 16

Number of people attending this year who had ever been to a Thanksgiving dinner: 10

Number of those people who had been to a Thanksgiving dinner because they came to ours last year: 9

Number of people our house will comfortably hold: 8

Number of people invited: 18
Number of people in attendance whose name begins with a vowel: 2

Number of people in attendance who are American: 1

Number of people in attendance who were born in England: 9

Number of people in attendance who are vegetarians: 5

Homemade salad dressing

Animals at our house at the time: 1

Animals at our house at the time that are canine: 0

People who at some point during the evening had to sit on the floor: 4

Number of photos taken: 326

Bottles of wine at our house before the party: 3

Bottles of wine at our house after the party: 7

Number of candles burned: 15

Number of dishes served: 15

Number of dishes that had leftovers: 1

Hours spent preparing the food: 6

Hours between the last guest leaving and our departure for Belgium: 0

Number of countries in some way represented: 7

a strange crush

2011-02-21T04:22:00.000Z

I have a crush on a character from a video game. I LOVE HIM. His name is Professor Layton. There have been three Professor Layton games so far and I love him more with each one. I have the British versions of the last two, but I think only the names are different.

Is this odd behavior?

I mean he's composed, intelligent and he wears a top hat. He solves puzzles. He's obsessed with being a gentleman with the ladies. I mean...come on! AND...he has a nice accent.

There's even a character in there named Paige. She's a total nerd (shocking) and she's obsessed with organization and study. Remind you of anyone??

Could that BE more me? No, no it couldn't. I'm in the game. Literally.

If you like puzzles and you have a Nintendo DS, I recommend this game. It is so much fun. The Bear and I have played the last two games together and it's one of our favorite downtime activities. Be warned, though, it's totally addictive.

I CANNOT wait for the next one. They can't make it fast enough.

Have any of you played this game? Am I the only adult who plays Nintendo DS games?

s is for some stats stuff

2011-02-16T02:13:00.000Z

On my stats page it says that one person searched for “backstreet boys” and got my blog as a return. Um…what? How far did that person have to scroll down to get to my site? I mean until now I’ve never mentioned the backstreet boys. In fact, I don’t think I’ve mentioned backstreet or boys separately. ODD. Now that I’ve mentioned both several times in this paragraph, maybe that one lonely, searching, surfing person will have a friend who also ends here searching in vain for the backstreet boys. Just to be sure, I’ll mention it several more times. Backstreet boys, backstreet boys, backstreet boys. There, I think that’ll just about do it.

Speaking of stats, I’d like to say hello to not only the US and the UK, two countries close to my little heart, but also Canada, Japan, Germany, the Netherlands, Russia, Spain, France and South Africa. Those are apparently the countries where most of my readers live according to the “All Time” tab. I think that’s fascinating. It changes when you click the “Month” tab. Apparently last month the 8th and 9th most frequent visitors were from Moldova and South Korea. I simply love how random that seems – because if you read my blog with any regularity (I’m talking to you Hong Kong, number seven last week) you know I’m a random kinda gal.

Hong Kong

What I do not care about is my audience by browser or operating system. I mean…does anyone who has a blog care about this stuff? Am I missing something? I’d rather they use that space to tell me more about countries. Like the list of countries. Yes.

Just checked my search words for this week... “phrases for cars” made the list. I just do not understand it.

Do you have any strange stats or search words?

a unique candle holder

2011-02-14T02:34:00.000Z

When we were wandering the cave markets in the Netherlands I was really drawn to this display of candle holders. It was in a dark corner and the warm orange tones of the candles made for a nice atmosphere.

What I didn't realize until we got closer was that they are made of big blocks of salt. Yep. SALT. So cool. (And just in case you were wondering, which you were, I did touch one and lick my finger just to be sure they weren't lying. Gross, but effective.)

They told us some nonsense about how they cleaned the air or released something important that you should breathe or something - which I didn't buy. What we did buy, however, was one of these candle holders. They were make such a nice light and we really fell in love with them. I can't remember how much it cost, but it wasn't that expensive and it was worth every penny.

What we didn't love about it was the fact that it weighed a ton and ~~Bear~~ we had to carry that thing for three days. Ah, well. It's safe at home now.

I love finding strange little treasures in the nooks and crannies of the world.

What is the most unique thing you've found on your travels?

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girls and lipstick

2011-02-11T02:58:00.001Z

I went on a girly trip last weekend. While getting ready to go out to eat we realized that we had each brought more than one lipstick. When we pooled them to take a photo, this is how much we had between us. There were four girls, but this was only from three of us (one of us was too slow on the draw to make the photo). And it didn't include several tubes of chapstick.

It's tough being a girl.

My mentor always told me to always wear lipstick, even if you don't wear a speck of any other makeup. She never let me be seen without it. Good advice. She also taught me how to position a napkin on my lap according to appropriate etiquette.

How much lipstick do you (or your spouse) carry?

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r is for random (what else?)

2011-02-10T04:04:00.001Z

I thought random was an appropriate R word for me. So here goes.

I only have one wisdom tooth. I always forget exactly where it is so I guess my dentist thinks I have some sort of memory problem since I ask every time I go in. I remember that it’s on the bottom, but that’s all I got. Do you know how many you have? Am I the only freak who has less than four?

Here is an actual conversation I had on the phone with my mom once:

Mom: “I made monkey balls!”
Me: “Do you mean monkey bread?”
Mom: “Oh. Yeah. That.”
Me: “Well? Was it delicious?”
Mom: “I don’t want to think about it now.”

I have an unhealthy love of journals. Well, any paper product really. I mean I have so many blank journals I could open a small shop. Why? If I wrote everyday I couldn’t fill them all up before I die. Yet, I still want to buy more. Every time I see one I just get all happy and giggly and I can’t help myself. *Sigh* I feel the same about note cards. I am a freak. A freak with one wisdom tooth.

I have an unhealthy love of pens. Oh, wait…probably should stop at one unhealthy thing per blog post.

I had a dream last night that I was in a Kung Fu war with cast of The Big Bang Theory. Is that odd? I don’t know Kung Fu, although I kinda wish I did because it was awesome in my dream. I mean I was really, really good at it. I’m totally looking up places I can take Kung Fu. First thing tomorrow. HI-YAH!

I’ve decided to try out being vegan. I’m going to start by doing it every Monday. I would have just dived in but I think I need to do a trial run once a week first. It’s going to be a learning curve for me. Plus, I’m going to have to ease into giving up bread. I live on bread. I love bread. And pasta. And lots of things with eggs in. But I did it for a couple of days and it was great! Of course, the first thing I had the day after was pasta and bread, but…I did it for two days!

Okay. I’m going to stop there. This is long enough for a post with no pictures.

picture patterns

2011-02-08T07:59:00.000Z

I love photographing churches and cathedrals...like this one, The Basillica of the Sacred Heart in Atlanta, Georgia.

There are a lot of things I like to photograph no matter where I am in the world. Some of those things are bicycles, churches, people and food. Do you find that patterns emerge in your photography? Are there some things you take photos of more than others (other than maybe your kids/family, which is a gimme)?

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meh.

2011-02-05T04:26:00.000Z

I'm not inspired today. Sorry.

Since I can't be asked to soul search for a blog post, here's a cute little sailboat.

q is for quote

2011-02-02T07:34:00.001Z

"All that we are is the result of what we have thought. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him. If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him like a shadow that never leaves him."

~ Buddha

I love and believe this quote. In my life and personal journeys I've found that the ability to control your own mind is both very, very difficult and extremely rewarding. It's the only path I've found to being happy. I've strayed from that path many times, but I always manage to find my way back.

The Buddhist temple near my house. I don't attend, but it still seemed appropriate.

One milestone in controling my mind was learning to take responsibility. What a freeing exercise! I don't tend to take responsibility for everything because that would be out of control. The key for me is to take responsibility for things that are within my control. I don't have a perfect track record for that, either, but I have a much more healthy conscience now that I've broken the barrier between me and blaming others for everything.

Buddhist temple, complete with Zen garden

I've long since broken through the stifling need to fit in and have everyone I meet like me - it owned me in high school just like everyone else, but then I grew up. That's not to say that I don't care what anyone thinks because I do. I want to look nice for work. I want to look nice for my Bear. I do value the opinions of those who matter to me, the people I respect. However, I'm not a slave to the bandwagon and I'm okay with the fact that not every person I meet will love me. It's the nature of diverse culture and I think that's what makes the world interesting.

Do I sometimes find myself obsessing over my hair? Yes. Do I sometimes look in the mirror and begin the list of things I need to do/be/say/think/accomplish so that I'll be an acceptable person? Yes. But now, it doesn't get the best of me. The voice of reason and love wins.

The temple from the park

These are the fruits of controling yourself so that other things, people, circumstances don't. It's being who you are and not what you think other people think you should be. It's truly loving yourself, no matter how cliche that sounds.

That's what I think. But that's just me.

How do you manage your thoughts? What are your biggest challenges?

odds and ends fourteen

2011-02-01T07:15:00.000Z

Does anyone remember Indiglo watches? Man, I really loved those things. Mine looked kinda like this one. I mean, I was really fascinated. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it was because they reminded me of fireflies.

{image here}

Speaking of fireflies, one of my mom’s nicknames for me is firefly. She said that it’s because I light up her life and not because I’m bug-like or because my butt lights up.

{image here}

Speaking of my mom, one time she had a house full of guests and she came in the room and said, “Hey, do you guys like watermelon?” They all said yes very expectantly. Her response: “Oh. Well I don’t have any. I just wanted to know if you liked it.” Then she left. That was about 12 years ago and we still make fun of her for it. We’re a ruthless family.

{image here}

Speaking watermelons, am I the only person who thinks seedless watermelons are weird and unnatural? I still eat them, though.

Speaking of things that are weird and unnatural, do you ever say a word that you use all of the time and realize how strange it sounds? Like “fork” or “noodle”? I’m mean try it – say “fork” like twelve times in a row. Go on, no one will stare. See? Strange.

{image here}

Speaking of words I use all of the time, I think that I’ve permanently adopted the word “bin” in lieu of “trash can.” It’s one of the things for which I can thank the great people of the UK. That and adding the words “as well” to the end of every sentence on which it will comfortable affix. I may be a bit paranoid but I think there are probably other things that I’ve picked up but don’t realize it. After two years of being in the country, I sometimes forget which phrases/words I adopted there and which I brought with me. It’s like a weird selective amnesia. It wouldn’t be a problem but I hate it when people try to impress you by having an accent from somewhere else or use sentences they think make them sound interesting. Now and then my friend Liz looks at me and says, “That sounded British.” GAH. Not that I don’t love they way the British sound (I do) but I’m not being pretentious. I’m just an idiot with a poor memory.

Speaking of digging holes, whatever happened to all of the sinkholes you used to hear about all the time? In the 80’s or 90’s there were so many on the news. Lately….nothing. What gives? (Ha, ha…what gives? Get it?? It’s the ground that gives because it’s a sink hole!)

{image here}

Yeah. I’m just gonna go now.

I'm linking to Random Tuesday Thoughts.

more of me not being an artist

2011-01-29T04:23:00.002Z

A few days ago I shared some of my sketchbook photos in this post. When I asked if you wanted to see a few more some of you said yes. So here are a few more. These are definitely not all of the pages but they represent a good cross section.

Remember that my theme began on the first few pages: "Tell me..." "How do you feel today?" The pages that followed provided possible answers.

I love sunflowers because they are unusual and bright.

I love coffee, too. Damn you Starbucks!!

I don't know. I really don't.

I love books, too. Books are to me like chocolate is to....everyone else.

Love dogs. I know this is news to you. Big secret I've been keeping. BIG SECRET.

I love...teeth? Whatever.

I especially love music. Music is everything good in the world.

Eyeballs are easy to draw.

Egypt is such an interesting place. Kinda glad I'm not there right now, though.

This is my little stick people flash mob.

My mom painted this. She's not really a dark person - her personality is quite bright and cheery. The coolest thing about this page is that I wrote on it with a pencil so when you look at it dead on you can't see the writing. However, if you tilt it you can see the writing very well. I'm easily amused.

I miss rotary phones. They remind me of my Grams.

It's been ages since I saw anything in a theatre. The last thing was actually Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet ballet. It was nice.
The last play I was in was Private Lives by Noel Coward. I played Sybil.

This is the last page in the book.

Because that's how I feel most days.

Which is your favorite?
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p is for puppy

2011-01-27T21:21:00.002Z

It's no secret that I love a puppy. Puppies are one of the best things in life. I was looking at puppy photos of Phoenix and Laura recently and I came across this little gem. It's one of my favorites of Phoenix.

I've told the story before, but I'll give you the abridged version. We had a geranium in the garden that was about 1.5 feet tall and full of flowers. It was huge. A few weeks after she came to live with us we were outside with her. We turned our backs for approximately three seconds and turned back to find our tiny three pound puppy sitting in the middle of a very flat and very chewed geranium. Notice the little piece of flower in her mouth. She looks so innocent. And yet...

"What flower, Mommy?"

It seems history is destined to repeat itself. Little chubby baby Laura liked a salad, too. Since Phoenix had long since destroyed any trace of flowers in the garden long before Laura arrived, she just resorted to chewing up huge chunks of grass. You just cannot look away from a hungry, chewy puppy. Notice the grass in her mouth and innocent look...just like older sister.

"I'm innocent, Mommy."

I love my furbabies.

i am NOT an artist

2011-01-24T08:35:00.000Z

I cannot stress that point enough. Hear me, people - I have no artistic ability whatsoever. Please keep that in mind as we go forward into this post.

It all started when I recieved a little unexpected package in the mail one day. It seems my friend and fellow blogger Jen entered me into The Sketchbook Project. I was surprised and very excited!

For those of you who don't know, The Sketchbook Project is held by the Brooklyn Art Library and provides an opportunity for anyone in the world to have a sketchbook full of their original artwork in a tour around the United States. First you order a sketchbook, then fill it with whatever type(s) of art you wish and then you send it back to them to be included in the tour. FUN!

My envelope included the rules card...

So I know what to do with my soon-to-be masterpiece.

...my Brooklyn Art Library card...

With my name on it and everything!

...and my little potential-filled sketchbook. Isn't he cute? I loved him at first sight.

Hello little guy!

Look at all of those blank pages! Gotta do something about that.

So many pages, so little time.

The rules say that you can do anything to the book as long as it's the same size when you send it back and you send back the actual book and not a whole different one. So the first thing I did was cover it.

Yes, that's wallpaper. Yes, it's textured. Yes it is.

I wanted to keep it simple on the outside. Next I decided on a theme. I'm not sure what it is with me and having things wrapped up in a theme, but there you go.

My idea has the book beginning with a question...

With that question out there, I thought I'd provide a few possible answers. That's where the theme thing ends - the rest of the book is like me (and most of my posts): RANDOM.

I decided that I'd share my sketchbook experience with my mom and the Bear. I started with a little mommy tribute.

An acrylic paint version of mommy and me

Remember how my theme was "How do you feel today?" The possible answers that were on the above page were:

"...that you miss your mother?"
"...that motherhood is a precious gift?"
"...that your children are everything?"

Then I started thinking about space. Yeah.

Spacey. That's me. And this is oil pastels.

The answers to the question on this page were:

"...isolated?"
"...the want to explore?"
"...sunny?"
"...spaced out?"

Then I realized it was getting late. So I did this page.

I love a clock. At least I didn't do melting Dali clocks. Round pencil clocks are more me.

The answers on this one were:

"...late?"
"...rushed?"
"...as though time is precious?"
"...like time is dragging by?
"...older?"
"...timeless?"
"...guilty because you don't have more time to spend?"
"...as though you're out of time?"
"...that time heals all wounds?"

My mom did a few of the pages, like this one.

These were abstracts in acrylic. They capture my "how do you feel" perfectly.

The answers on these two pages were:

"...that life is a fun, fast spinning ride and you hope it never ends?"
"...as though the world is going by so fast that everything is a blur?"
"...that you wish you were running through a meadow?"

Gosh this post has gotten long! I wasn't going to share all of the pages of the book, but I had a few more.

Do you want to see more?

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oh my word!

2011-01-20T04:18:00.005Z

I’ve been trying to do that thing that everyone has been doing where they choose a word for the year. You know, where you theme your year based on one word that sums up what you’d like to focus on that year – something that will help you change for the better the things about your life that you may not love.

I’ve thought and thought.

And thought.

And thought.

I was having trouble getting everything to fit just one word. I thought about drive and goal, but I think I really have plenty of those. Too much sometimes. I find myself missing the journey between now and the goal.

Then I tried rest, relax, de-stress. I don’t really need to do those things any more than I already do either. I’m pretty good at treating myself well when I need to. Strike two.

I thought simplify was a really great word for me…buuuuut then I realized that even if I managed to simplify everything, it may be neater but it doesn’t really help me focus on being a better me.

Fiddlesticks.

I even considered “adelante” which means “onward” or “forward, to the front of the line,” but that just seemed too pushy. Okay for a business slogan, not really okay for someone who needs to slow down and focus inward.

THEN IT HIT ME.

I’ve used my word three times already in this post: focus. I need more focus.

I’m so fortunate that my life is full of wonderful things – great friends, fun and fulfilling hobbies, family. I’ve spent the last few years trying my hand at many, many things. I’ve had time to myself to read, practice hobbies, rest, write. I’ve exercised, experimented with my diet, health and ayurveda, spent time with my animals, traveled and learned to cook.

So now I think it’s time to focus my attention and my efforts on perfecting a few of those things. I want to try to learn Spanish – because I’ve had that on my “to do” list for years. I want to cut out more of the superfluous stuff and purify what I accomplish.

I need to FOCUS.

I feel so much better now that I’ve chosen my word – or rather, my word finally chose me. It’s something I can say over and over again to myself and it will never be any less potent. I hope this is the key to becoming a better me.

To keep myself honest, I’m going to try to make updates about how I’m putting my shiney new word to work. I may not do it every week, but I’ll check in from time to time with a focus update.

Have you chosen your 2011 word? If not, what would you choose?

On the ferry across the English Channel to Calais

Check out all of the other "Oh" posts at Jenny's Alphabe-Thursday.

odds and ends 13

2011-01-17T06:05:00.000Z

So many things. Can’t think. Brain clogged. Brain dump imminent.

I am so behind with things on my “ooo…ooo…I should blog about that” list. I haven’t even told you about Thanksgiving yet! I also need to tell you my word for 2011. Gosh. So behind. I’m sorry I’ve neglected you. I hope we can still be friends.

Right now I’m just going to write things that come in to my head so I can post something already.

First of all, I finally finished my sketchbook for The Sketchbook Project and sent it off in the nick of time. (That’s it at the top of the post.) I’ll tell you all about that later. Just know that I thought I had it all under very good time control….until the night before. It was a close one. It’s done and gone though and I’m so glad that I did it. Very exciting!

I’ve been a bum lately. I’ve done nothing particularly productive and it’s finally pushed me over the edge. I woke up a few days ago and sprang into action. I got back to exercise, journaling, core training (all of which I typically do every day). I updated my daily schedule (which I need for the structure). I got back to my hobbies – I at least got organized and poised to get back to it. I feel so much better. I’m generally very busy all of the time doing something productive. I do have my moments of rest now and then but I feel better if I’m doing and now I feel better. *whew* I’m glad we had this talk.

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this on the blog before but I write down every single thing I eat. Every single thing, every single day. I put it in a spreadsheet that counts calories, protein, water intake, etc. If I don’t, I overeat or don’t eat at all. At the very least I don’t eat enough of something, usually protein. It keeps me honest because when I do it I include every single indulgence, including everything I drink. I find it very informative, interesting and sometimes shocking. Still, I have done it every day for years. I know it sounds obsessive but I can’t be the only person who does this…can I? Anyone? Anyway, I’ll probably always do it, because it works for me. Do you have any habits that help you keep your diet healthy (or at least intact)?

Well, that’s it for this post. Thanks for stopping by. Do come back soon when, hopefully, my post will be coherent. It’s on my new daily schedule.

n is for netherlands

2011-01-13T07:22:00.001Z

It's been ages since I linked to Alphabe-Thursday and I've missed it! Although I've noticed that it seems in my absence that it's turned into Alphabe-Wednesday as it's 10 minutes until it'sThursday and there are already 35 links. But I digress. I'm glad to be back.

Anyway, my N is the Netherlands. I went there in November and I have yet to share any photos, so I thought I'd take this opportunity to do just that.

There's a nice little stream through Valkenburg. I love that a woman in a red coat walked onto the bridge before this shot.

I call this photo "Stream in Valkenburg and Woman with Red Coat."

We were there for kerstmarkt...that's the Christmas market for all you non-Dutch speakers. Yeah. Multilingual over here on the blog. Yeah.

They really go all out on the Christmas decor for the market de kirst.

Cute little Dutch streets. Gotta love them. YOU HAVE TO.

No seriously, you really do have to.

More of this stream...from a different angle.

I love the signs. Although, if you think you can just be a stupid tourist who only speaks English and get by because "oh, the menues are probably in English, too" or "I'm sure someone in here speaks English" then you will starve in Holland. Here me, people.

I will pass on the verse mosselen. Thanks, though.

Pretty sure this was a church or something but I was pretty busy being friggin' cold so I didn't get a chance to check. Looks like a church to me, though. So....it's a church.

Do those trees remind anyone else of that one in the Harry Potter movie that tries to kill you when you park a car in it?

You can climb some stairs from the main street in Valkenburg to the Valkenburg Castle. This is what you see if you look up as you climb.

But don't, because you might fall and kill yourself on the stone steps like I almost did.

This is the view of the town from the top.

Here is the castle from the town below.

I love the cozy streets.

I also love the buildings. I've very loving when it comes to the Netherlands.

Those candy-striped awnings were part of the Italian restaurant where we ~~finally gained sustenance even though we thought we might die in the streets of Valkenburg because we didn't speak Dutch, French or German~~ ate.

That pasta was SO good. I was starving, but it really was quality food. When we walked into the place I thought the food would be sub-par at best. Boy was I ever wrong. Makes me want to learn Dutch.

I don't know why but my love of photographing bicycles is overshadowed only by my love of photographing signs. Behold:

Okay, maybe "behold" was a strong word for this photo.

Here's a big Christmas tree. (What? It's late. I'm out of interesting things to say. Just look at the photo.)

We had such a good time in the Netherlands. I think I'll reflect on it as I gaze at this photo of the stream.

2011 - some stuff therein

2011-01-07T05:42:00.000Z

My friend Kat admits in this post that she has talked about things of last year a week too late. Yeah. I'm even later than her. Do I care? Will that stop me from doing the meme that she did with some questions and whatnot? NO. Here I go.

1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before?

Camping

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I didn't make any resolutions because I almost never keep them. Same goes for this year. But I did actually take better care of myself, read more and start several hobbies that I said I wanted to do. That totally counts.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yes, beautiful cousin Katie gave birth to this sweet baby.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Thankfully, no.

5. What countries did you visit?

Other than the UK and the US - Belgium, France, The Netherlands, Peru.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?

A job. Yes, people, that's right - I want to go back to work. I know - crazy, right? Well, I miss it. There. I've said it.

7. What dates from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

There are too many to name, really. It was a wonderful year for me. There were also several dates that weren't that wonderful. Some of them, in no particular order were:

November 22 (the day I found out my piano teacher couldn't teach me anymore - BAD)
November 25 (the day I cooked a full Thanksgiving dinner for 17 people - none of whom were American - GOOD)
November 26 (the day we left for our wonderful winter holiday)
May 29 (the day we left for Peru - one of the greatest experiences of my life)
July 15-17 (the three-day Bear and Paige birthday celebrate-a-thon)
July 14 (the day we got guide dog puppy, Laura)
November 19 (the day I passed piano exam #2)
July 7 (the day I passed my first piano exam)

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Doing a pretty darn good job raising my sweet guide dog puppy. And I passed two piano exams!

9. What was your biggest failure?

Not learning Spanish for like the 40th year in a row, despite the fact that I both want and need to.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

I had a few allergies but that was pretty much it for illness. I smashed my left thumb in a door...REALLY HARD. It was awful. I didn't sprain my ankle, though, which is a pretty good year for me.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Wow. This is harder to pin down than I thought. Hmm. The first things that spring to mind relate to my hiking gear - I bought this shirt with thumb holes (I still adore that shirt) and my totally freakin' awesome hiking boots that are made of the stuff that saved my life in the Andes. Literally.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

I'd have to think to hard to come up with something to put here. There are a lot of wonderful people out there, but when I answer a series of questions like this I usually just shoot from the hip and I'm sure I'd wish I had chosen someone else as soon as I chose someone.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

I can't really put a name or anything specific on here but there is one person who I feel should be seriously reprimanded for their behavior, in relation to their job. I was totally appalled by how I was treated. It's no one I've ever blogged about and I probably will never mention the person again but they should really consider another line of work. The end.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Travel. DEFINITELY TRAVEL.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Travel. And piano. And Laura. And seeing my parents. And life in general.

16. What song will always remind you of 2010?

Prokofiev's Op 75 No 6. What? It's really good. Here...see:

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?

Happier, same, same

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Exercise, read, blog.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Waiting. Playing it safe.

20. How did you spend Christmas?

With my family and most importantly, the Bear. We had family gatherings, lots of food and presents and lots of making candy.

21. Did you fall in love with 2010?

Yes.

22. What was your favorite TV program?

I don't really have one. I don't watch television that much.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

I don't hate anyone. It's just too time-consuming and draining. There are a few people who irked me, but nothing that warrants hate.

24. What was the best book you read?

Moby Dick. Wanna know the NOT best book I read? The Time Traveler's Wife. Hated that book.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Prokofiev and Ligeti

26. What did you want and get?

I got almost everything I wanted. The biggest thing was probably Laura.

27. What did you want and not get?

A food processor - and not one of those crappy ones. I want the best food processor THEY MAKE. Maybe that's why I didn't get one.

28. What was your favorite film of 2010?

Meh. I don't know.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I went on a wonderful date with the Bear.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Being filthy rich.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept of 2010?

Comfort

32. What kept you sane?

The Bear. And the fact that life is really good.

33. Who did you miss?

My parents, my friends Liz and Hank, Cool Whip. I know Cool Whip isn't a person, but I'm still just a little bit in denial that they have none in Britain.

34. Who was the best new person you met?

My piano teacher

35. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010.

Make the most of the time you have because you never know what will happen tomorrow. Don't play it safe - take chances. It's never too late. Hard work pays off. Doing the "right" thing isn't always what it seems to be at first. Volunteering is worth every minute.

happy new year!

2010-12-31T20:58:00.000Z

I've had a busy few weeks (as I'm sure all of you have) but I hope to be back to blogging soon. Until then, I hope you all have a very good new year!

Brussels Cathedral, Belgium

Happy New Year!

merry christmas (and card bloopers)

2010-12-25T20:43:00.000Z

My friend and fellow blogger Kat wrote about sending Christmas cards on her blog this year. I must say that I agree with her - it's such a nice feeling to share by sending and it's a joy to receive cards from family and friends around the world. We don't have our pictures done professionally because part of the fun for us is the multi-hour photo shoot that inevitably ends with lots and lots of great bloopers. We always try to include at least one silly photo-gone-wrong in the card, too.

I thought I'd share a few of the bloopers on the blog this year. They were not quite as hilarious as usual this time, especially considering that not only were the Bear and I involved but we had three furry babies to contend with including an old fat cat, a giant puppy and a little diva dog. Fun times. Needless to say, there were many trips back and forth to the tripod.

This is the front of the card. We never really got a great photo of the whole clan so we decided to give our little guide dog star the front cover.

The quality of this photo isn't great, but you get the idea.

.
This is the best shot we got of all of us together. It made the back cover. Yeah.

I particularly like how the animals look thrilled here. Also, despite what the cat says,
I was not trying to strangle her for scratching me just before this was taken. She's a liar.

.
At first, we thought it would be cute if Laura was wearing a Santa hat. So the Bear went to work applying it. Laura was really into it, as you can see here:

It's not enough that I have to poop on command - now you have to do this? REALLY? Not amused.

.
The cat took this opportunity to try and destroy the camera with her deadly laser vision. She was unsuccessful. This did not please her.

One thing I can say for her, she really puts her whole body into it.

.
We abandoned the hat idea after we got the cover shot above because, well, Santa hat-related morale was pretty low.

Jessie: "Phoenix, it's your turn. Put the hat on. Do it NOW."
Phoenix: "Mommy, the cat's bossing me around again!"
Laura: "I just don't know where it all went wrong. First they're telling me what a good dog I am, then they make me wear this. I just don't get it."

.
This photo turned out okay...apart from someone having his eyes closed. *AHEM*

And perhaps the incredibly stupid face I'm making. But mostly the eyes closed thing.
At least the cat seems to be getting used the neck lock.

.
Then I felt it was my turn to ruin the group photo. I think I did a pretty good job.

Perhaps just a little too much sexy for a holiday card.

.
Since the Bear and I could never quite balance goofy with serious holiday card photography, we decided that maybe we'd try our hand at solo shots. We decided to go for "jolly" and "gleeful holiday spirit." MISTAKE.

"...AND I want a new dolly and a bike and a new pony....where are you going, Santa?"

"HI."

.
Then it just completely fell apart.

Laura: "Mommy, I have to pee."
Jessie: "Okay, little brown dog - I'm going to scratch her and when she drops you, go run for help. On three..."
Phoenix: "Okay. Wait...drops me? SHE'S GONNA DROP ME??"

What's not to love about this shot? The Bear's goofy grin, my obscured face,
Jessie's urgent need to escape, Laura's desperate need to lick Phoenix, Phoenix's disgust....
PERFECT PHOTO.
In fact, this is a spot on depiction of our family.

Finally, the cat's agent called and said the union demanded that we release her, thus ending our photo shoot.

.
We hope you have a Merry Christmas and happy holiday season - filled with many bloopers.

.

merry christmas eve!

2010-12-24T19:56:00.000Z

I must apologize for my sparse posting lately. I've been getting ready for the arrival of a certain Bear and now he's here! It's been a few weeks since we've seen each other and now that he's here Christmas can commence.

I'll be back tomorrow to show you all the very cute out take photos from our cards this year, so stop by for a visit again this weekend. There will be furry babies and Santa hats - well worth a click or two.

I hope you're all managing to stay warm!

since i've been here

2010-12-21T05:07:00.001Z

I've learned (and been reminded of) lots of things since I've been visiting my parents. Here are some of those things.

My mother's dog snores. Her name is Dragon and she snores like a grown man. She sleeps in the bedroom next to the one I sleep in and she's woken me up at night. Three times. Poor little sausage.

She's the little red-haired piglet on the right.

Ice makers are evil. The ice maker at my parents' house is a little bitter that I didn't bring it a magnet. Because it's attacked me about three times. As soon as I pull my glass away from the door dispenser ice suddenly flies violently out and pelts me. This happens no matter how long I stand there after the ice has finished falling. I actually tried talking to it the last time. Then I realized that I was trying to reason with a refridgerator.

Car accoustics are not as good as I thought. It's been two years since I've been alone in a car. I had forgotten how loud a car radio will go...but I remember now. I also forgot just how bad radio can be. I remember that now, too. Still, I've sang to the top of my lungs every single minute of my car alone time, no matter what was playing. Who knew that I would remember (or know, for that matter) all of the words to a Credence Clearwater Revival song? Not me, my friends. Not me. And YET.

I really miss my little chocolate drop. I started getting all soft and teary-eyed thinking of her so I did what any mother would do and I pulled out baby pictures to sob over. Like these.

Here she is with her two sisters when she was three weeks old.

Three weeks old - I can hardly stand the cuteness of this photo. DYING.

Eight weeks old - the day we brought her home. She got busy exploring the garden right away.

There are more foods that I miss than I thought. I think I've covered the important stuff, though. I've had Diet Dr. Pepper, Mexican food, Japanese bubble tea, grits, biscuits and Cool Whip. I feel somehow more complete. You all KNOW how much I've missed Cool Whip. Don't get me wrong, though, because being here makes me miss food from the UK. I've already started having withdrawals from licorice all-sorts, Oxo cubes, pub food and real (read: British) Indian food. I know that it's strange to miss Oxo cubes but you can't substitute a perfect stock cube, people.

US drivers are completely crazy. You can get your knickers in a twirl because I said that but I have seen skilled drivers, and here they are not. In the UK they may drive cars one inch from one another at 40 mph around a crowded round about but they can also park a car in a space exactly the size of said car. The likes of this I have never seen stateside. It's impressive. Thus, on my first solo voyage on the highways of America in two years, I was literally frightened. It's a scary out there. Not that I didn't contribute to the madness, but still.

I'm continuing to remember and learn things everyday. I'll keep you posted of any new developments.

christmas candy, motivational phrases and cars. sort of.

2010-12-18T04:54:00.000Z

Every year my mother makes candy at Christmas. She's a wonderful cook - and she can bake anything. She's one of those people who could stir some water with a stick and it would be delicious. Last year I decided to help. We invited my friend Liz - also a really good cook. WE WIN AS A TEAM.

Sorry. It seems my brain is recycling old corporate motivational material. Moving on.

One of the things we decided to make was pecan logs. They have a marshmallow cream and confectioner's sugar center which is dipped in caramel and rolled in chopped pecans.

First, you melt some baked beans...err..I mean caramel. It's caramel. It is.

me stirring the baked bean caramel in 2009

Then you dip the frozen marshmallow/sugar slightly phallic looking center into the baked bean caramel. Mouthwatering, isn't it?

dip the marshmallow pee-pee into the melted beans

We found that the assembly line approach worked best. Henry Ford would have been proud. We assembled a Model T immediately after this photo was taken.

first candy, next automotives

Then you have candy pee-pees rolled in nuts. AWESOME.

these really are very, very delicious

Another thing we make is honeycomb cereal, pretzels and pecans mixed with white chocolate. My mother really likes to make sure we have enough. For the whole town. (Like seriously, she really gives little bags of this stuff to everyone in town. It's a big hit.)

it takes four people to make a truck load of this stuff.
well, three. i'm pretty sure my dad is eating it

When we finished spreading this out so it could cool, we realized that it was covering the table we were about to eat dinner on. Ooops.

now when i make this, i like to add dried cranberries

All of that was last year. This year, we're doing the same. We've already started, in fact. Liz and I made Oreo cookie truffle ball things dipped in chocolate. (I'm thinking of a getting a job at a food magazine describing the food. What do ya think?)

yes, they look a little like poo. SO WHAT.

Lizzie made white chocolate and cranberry cookies. I haven't really got anything crude to say about them. I'll work harder next time.

this is my beautiful friend, Liz

We also made a familiar favorite.

doesn't look good, but IS

The candy/cooking making for this year is not yet over. I'll take photos and be back here to mangle the directions, make jokes and completely turn you off confections forever. YOU'RE WELCOME.

(I can't believe I called the pecan log middle a pee-pee. And the Oreo truffles poo. Must be a new low on the blog.

NAH.)

l is for luxembourg

2010-12-17T01:28:00.000Z

Not that I've ever been to Luxembourg, mind you. However, when I was in Belgium, the Netherlands and France on my vacation a few weeks ago, my mother thought I was in Luxembourg and Berlin. No idea where she got that, but that's my mom for you. I'm glad I didn't disappear because if the authorities had questioned my mother, they would have been looking in the wrong countries entirely.

How about some "L" things that I actually have seen for this Alphabe-Thurdsay? Let's start with leaves. I've got some sort of fascination with leaves. I love them. Sticking to the traveling theme I've got going on lately, I'll show you some that I saw on the ground in one of the countries I mentioned above (not sure which one).

They were HUGE. I thought I got a picture of my hand with them so you could see the size but either I was mistaken or my camera ate it. Either way, you have to take my word for it.

Next, the Bear and I were trying to find our way around (probably) Brussels, so we got out the trusty old map. I would have been happy just to know what time zone we were in but with this map we identified our latitude and longitude. Didn't find where to meet the bus on there, though.

We found it eventually, as you can see by the fact that we're not still lost.

Speaking of Belgium (and we sort of were), am I the only person who didn't know that Belgium is known for lace? Well, apparently it is.

Yep, you could get all the lace you could eat. Lots and lots of lace.

Well, that's all I've got for L. I'll try not to be so random for the letter M next week.

Nah, just kidding. I'll be as random as ever.

welcome to belgium!

2010-12-15T04:12:00.003Z

Why, thank you Belgian mobile telephone service. And in English, too, not one
of the ~~fourteen~~ three official languages of your country.

Those of you who guessed the yummy treats in my last post were Belgian waffles were right. The Bear and I went to Belgium a couple of weekends ago and indulged ~~a few times~~ in the tasty treats. I highly recommend them. They were quite delicious. Here is the one we actually ate:

Incidentally, we broke the flimsy plastic fork on the first bite and ended up eating with our hands
like the hungry and filthy animals we are. I AM NOT ASHAMED.

Speaking of food in Belgium, I discovered this:

Mmmmm....gluhwein...

It may not look like much, but it was warm and it was wine - everything a weary traveler wants when in ~~the arctic tundra~~ Brussels (because it's friggin' cold in Belgium in November, people). It's called Gluhwein. Or Vin Chaud, depending on which language you prefer speaking at the moment.

Sorry for the quality of the photo. Apparently freezing to death and drinking
warm wine from a polystyrene cup = dodgy photo.

Or ouderweise. Or warme wijn. Yeah, all of these descriptions were at the same stand. I love the message of togetherness - "People of the world, come and drink hot alcohol with us! Unless you speak English."

That's okay, Belgium, I figured it out. Especially as people were giving free samples. Well played.

I hate to belabor a point but, seriously, how many different languages are actually on this sign? Two? Three? I just don't know anymore. I've never been confused in four languages at once before. Usually just the one will do me.

I see some English and maybe some Dutch. Or German. And is that French?
Is that a chicken curry waffle? How do you say "eeew" in Flemish?

Oh, wait...there's the French.

Should I read anything into the fact that the only word in English is "bar"?

Speaking of words that don't translate:

Is there seriously no word in Dutch, French or German for "casino"?
Or is that just another word that definitely needs to be signposted in English?

"All drunken gamblers this way. For those of you who don't speak English, WEahaogha ehaoseagh."

Well, that's enough of me not being bilingual. Let's get back to food:

If anyone needs me, I'll be over here hanging out with Mr. Patate next to the gluhwein hut.

*Update to Jenny D's comment: OH...I'll get to that Mannequin Pis sign LATER. Count on it. And I have photos to back me up.

guess where

2010-12-10T03:50:00.001Z

We had these when we were on vacation. Any guesses where we were?

No, not the fat farm because we didn't eat all of these. Just one between the Bear and I. Actually, we didn't eat any of the ones in this picture because they were the display and I'm pretty sure they had been sitting there for a while. One of them was complaining about the Reagan administration and another was listening to his new 8-track tape. Just saying - they were probably a bit stale.

I'm still very much without my laptop so I'm using an unfamiliar computer. I can't say that I care for it. I'll have mine back soon, though, and I'll be back to typing endless nonsense as usual. Until then, you get cryptic photos of food.

the prodigal blogger

2010-12-08T03:35:00.002Z

A little advice: I do not recommend being without the Internet for two straight weeks, lest you start mumbling incoherently and bumping into things due to disorientation. I've been there. It's not pretty.

That's what you get on this blog - good, solid advice.

People of the Internet, blog readers, passers-by: I have had a mess of a few weeks. Stretched out behind me are fourteen days of Internetless, barren wasteland. I nearly died. I couldn't even check email.

I was a shell of my former self.

Anyway, I'm back now.

I know that I promised to explain last week but I'm still tired and now I have a headache. But I have my beloved Internet back and with it email and blogs. I just might recover. I will be back to my usual random-posting and picture sharing self soon.

Right now I need...you guessed it...a nap.

Good night.

DUDE

2010-12-02T22:35:00.000Z

A lot has happened in the last five days, not the least of which is that I've been to five different countries. A country a day. I'm tired, Internet, very tired.

Just wanted to let you know that I've not fallen off the face of the Earth. I'll be back. Just give me some time to sleep. And figure out what time zone I'm in.

I have tons to share with you about Thanksgiving (which was excellent) and my travels. I can't wait to show you the photos!

PS: Passed my piano exam, with merit, despite the fact that I completely butchered two of the three pieces I played. I'm shocked and very happy about it. Share in my joy. Are you sharing? Good. This totally makes it okay that I'm a piano orphan. Okay, no it doesn't but...I PASSED! Yay!

royal thai

2010-11-26T10:52:00.003Z

There's a restaurant in a village nearby call the Royal Thai. No idea why it's call that because all the food tastes like it came straight from Delhi via Goa on it's way to Jaipur to me, but that's neither here nor there. Apparently, it's supposed to be a Thai restaurant.

Anyway, back to what I'm here to tell/show you.

We go there every so often because they make this dish I love more than some of my relatives. It's DELISH. The last time we went, for some odd reason (blogging), I decided to take my camera (lifeline). Here are a few photos of the experience.

Don't pretend you haven't been wondering what the food I eat at restaurants looks like. I know you were.

Here's what we had for an appetizer. (Incidentally, if given the choice between appetizer or dessert, I'd most likely go with appetizer, as I did on this night. What would you choose? Am I odd?) The thing on the left is Chicken Satay for the Bear and on the right is a corn cake thingamy for me. What? You people know I'm bad with naming stuff.

While we were waiting for this deliciousness to arrive, I glanced to my right and saw this guy.

Then.

THEN.

My food came. To understate the event, they changed the format of the presentation.

To look like a bird.

MY FOOD LOOKED LIKE A BIRD.

"Yes, I'll have number eighteen on the vegetarian menu. Oh, and can you make that look like some sort of animal? That'd be great. Thanks so much."

I loved it! It was one of those things where you think to yourself, "Why didn't I bring my camera?" except I DID. Isn't it cute? It had retained all of it's yumminess and gained some pizzazz.

Just so you know, I ate almost that whole thing. I think I left part of a pineapple wing and maybe a bit of cucumber tail. But I definitely ate the chili pepper beak.

So glad I had my camera with me.

thankful thanksgiving thursday

2010-11-25T00:26:00.001Z

As today is Thanksgiving Day, it's Thankful Thursday over at Jenny's place in lieu of Alphabe-Thursday. So I shall do as the Romans do and tell you what I am thankful for. There will be pictures.

First and foremost, I am thankful that these wonderful people are my parents. I love them dearly and feel lucky I was born to them. If we could all be so lucky. (But we can't so don't ask me if you can have them. They're MINE. I guess they still need to work on teaching me about sharing.)

This is the day of the year I miss them most.

Next, I am very grateful to have this nut as my co-pilot. How could you not love a cuddly teddy [the] Bear?

If you can't love someone who will pose for hours on end with you and your three furry children for Christmas card photos, then you're made of stone. Since I'm made of sugar and spice and everything nice, I do not fall into that category.

I'm also very glad to be this gorgeous creature's foster mommy. She is the most wonderful dog I've ever encountered. Loving, obedient, beautiful, graceful and so sweet she'll give you cavities. She's going to be a brilliant guide dog to some lucky person someday and I'm thankful that I not only got to be part of her amazing life, but also that I could do this for someone who needs her.

And how could I not mention my little chocolate drop? My pillow companion (though she'd take the whole thing if I didn't insist that my head be on there), my best furry friend, the hero to my side kick, the donut to my coffee. I love her so much.

And last but definitely not least (although the diet is working), our lovely kitten. I'm thankful that we have the best cat to trod the Earth - past, present or future. I'm not really a cat person but thankfully, she has changed my mind.

I suppose I could have just said, "I'm thankful for my family" and had done with it, but then you wouldn't have had to slog through all of those photos and that wouldn't have been nearly as fun for ME.

As we part until my next post, here are some other things I'm thankful for:

- I don't have to be anywhere even in the vacinity of the United States on black Friday.
- That the peanut butter fudge I made today is simply divine, if I do say so myself.
- My bloggy friends for being funny because I need funny. Especially the ones who do not have word verification. Thank you.
- Books. I've had a week that suggest my book intake might suddenly spike in the near future.
- Music. I need it more than it needs me, but that's okay. It maintains me well. (Even though I'm still a piano orphan. *sniff*)
- The fact that talking to Hank, emailing my friend Liz and writing snail mail letters to Kat always makes me smile. They are my best connections to my friends at home.
- The weather in the UK. Yes, you read that right. Hey - at least it's not in the 70's in late November. Just saying.

I should just probably stop there because that list might go on forever. I only have half that much time right now.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

hide and seek

2010-11-23T21:43:00.000Z

For some reason, this song is in my head today. I don't know what the meaning was intended to be but some of the passages are sticking with me after the last few days I've had. Here are the lyrics. There's also a video after the lyrics which is really just audio that I got from YouTube. It was the best one I could find. What do you think it's about?

where are we?
what the hell is going on?
the dust has only just begun to form
crop circles in the carpet
sinking feeling

spin me round again
and rub my eyes,
this can't be happening
when busy streets a mess with people
would stop to hold their heads heavy

hide and seek
trains and sewing machines
all those years
they were here first

oily marks appear on walls
where pleasure moments hung before the takeover,
the sweeping insensitivity of this still life

hide and seek
trains and sewing machines (oh, you won't catch me around here)
blood and tears (hearts)
they were here first

Mmmm whatcha say,
Mmm that you only meant well?
well of course you did
Mmmm whatcha say,
Mmmm that it's all for the best?
of course it is
Mmmm whatcha say?
Mmmm that it's just what we need
you decided this
whatcha say?
Mmmm what did she say?

ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs
speak no feeling no I don't believe you
you don't care a bit,
you don't care a bit

(hide and seek)
ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs

(hide and seek)
speak no feeling no i don't believe you
you don't care a bit,
you don't care a (you don't care a) bit

(hide and seek)
oh no, you don't care a bit
oh no, you don't care a bit

(hide and seek)
oh no, you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit

"Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap

sometimes things just happen (grieving, music and some official things about Singapore)

2010-11-22T17:28:00.001Z

Sometimes things just happen.

And there’s nothing you can do about it.

Except call your friend Hank who will make you laugh so hard that tea comes out of your nose so that everything is again right with the universe. It’s the age-old tea-through-the-nose heal-all.

(That was a lot of hyphens. Seriously, look at how many hyphens that took. I wonder if they feel self-conscious because I pointed them out. Well, don’t look, you’ll make them feel worse.)

I got an email today from my piano teacher stating that he will not be teaching me anymore. It was sudden and not great news, as you may imagine. (I may have cried a little, which may or may not have frightened my toy poodle, which possibly could have made me feel even worse, but I can neither confirm nor deny.) I’m not entirely sure why, but he told me I was a good student and wished me all the best. Circumstances changed “unexpectedly” and now I need a new teacher.

“Unexpectedly” might have been an understatement. What’s more unexpected than unexpected? Uber-unexpected? Weapons-grade unexpected? Marital law on all expectations unexpected?

It was all going so well. I thought. Possibly because he said it was going really well just the other day. Or perhaps because we've planned what my lessons will be until the end of the year, complete with me buying books this weekend, etc.

Anyway, these things happen. I’m sad about it but I’ll live. I hate when things like this happen when you’re not ready, it makes you unhappy and all you really want to do is click your heels together and say, “There’s no place like home” to make everything better (or the same) again.

CLICK, CLICK.

Nothing. Well, I’ll be looking for a new teacher in the coming weeks so if you have a spare, I have a vacancy. Also, I just wanted to let you know in case I suddenly start talking about my piano teacher and using words such as “her” and “she.” My (former) piano teacher may not be teaching me anymore, but I don’t want to spread rumors he’s had some sort of operation or lifestyle change.

I know, I’m nice like that.

The plus side of this otherwise rather dreary day is that I talked to my friend Hank. He made me laugh. He started down a ranting path about something and then said he was going to get off of his “shoebox.” “Soapbox?” said I. “Oh, yeah. Whatever.” Then we proceeded to Wiki “soapbox” which then led to the Wikiing of Speaker’s Corner in Hyde Park, which then led to the official language of Singapore. I know I skipped some steps in there but you get the idea and I don’t have all day to explain how yelling your political views to passers-by is related to the native tongue of people in Asia.

I can’t do everything.

Anyway, I feel better than I did but overall I’m still sad. I feel like I’m grieving an important loss. It will be difficult to understand unless you’ve been there.

Now I’m going to go and pout and eat something big and terrible for me. Then I might whine a bit. Then if I run until it hurts my lungs, write some poems, tickle a puppy’s belly and watch pointless television for a few hours I will have run the gamut of grieving.

Thank you for your thoughts.

And if you feel like sending me a donut, thanks for that, too.

.

a duel with yourself. who wins?

2010-11-21T15:13:00.000Z

You know I can’t resist answering some questions about myself. I wonder why that is….hmmm. Narcissism? Boredom? Because it’s difficult to answer questions about other people? Because someone was nice enough to ask them? Maybe all of those things. This time that nice person is Jenners from Life…With Books. And here they are. Then it's your turn.

1. What would you do on a perfect day? (No monetary restrictions…just imagine away.)

Gosh, this is tough. It would possibly start with sleeping in a little. (Then again, I like getting up early and having a full day ahead, too. Tough call.) I’d want to eat well all day – and I don’t mean health food. I’m talking sugar, fat, cholesterol, salt – you know stuff that tastes good, and lots of it. And champagne. I’d probably want to do something fun and sporty like squash or running on the beach. That reminds me, I’d like to be in the Maldives, too. I like the Maldives. Then I’d want to sit lazily on the beach in the warm breeze and eat until it hurts. Perhaps a massage. Ooo…and I’d like to see a play. But not in the Maldives because they’ve got beautiful beaches and fabulous sunsets but they are lacking in the entertainment department. So…I’ll need a personal jet. A fast one. Can I also have a piano nearby? I’d like to play the piano a little because it calms my nerves. How long is this day, again?

2. Have you ever stayed up for 24+ straight hours? Why?

Many times, but the times that I remember most are for College Night. My university didn’t have a football team (liberal arts college) so for homecoming we had College Night. Basically, the school divided into two teams each of which put on a full-length musical. The entire thing was written, performed, designed and organized by students. There were also sports such as volleyball, basketball, etc. The plays were the main event and at the end of the week/month the whole thing was judged and a winner declared. It was so very much fun – but it required many long hours and late nights. I remember counting waking hours into the low 40’s one night. I wish I had the stamina to do that now. Except I’m old.

3. Have you ever laughed so hard your stomach muscles and face hurt? What made you laugh that hard?

Yes, all the time. As much as I can. Hank always makes me laugh until I have tears in my eyes. My friend Liz makes me laugh because she thinks I’m funny. Of course, the Bear is funny. Once the Bear bumped his head on a cabinet door and proceeded to spew a stream of cute and funny British expletives that made me laugh for about fifteen straight minutes. The most recent thing that made me laugh really hard was at one of my piano lessons. My piano teacher was trying to illustrate a point, a change in a passage of music, and he really exaggerated it. It was extremely comical and it made me giggle. Then he laughed. Then I couldn’t stop. You know how it is. I had to pull myself together to finish the lesson but if I could’ve, I probably would have hurt myself laughing. Sometimes it’s the little silly stuff that gets me.

4. What is the earliest time in your life you can remember?

I have lots of flashes of memories and specific details I remember from being very young. I can remember scenes from a house my parents built before I was born. I can describe it perfectly and I have never seen photos or set foot in it since I was two years old. It really freaks my mother out when I recall details from being a baby. Most of it I’ve forgotten, but my strangely wired brain seems to hold on to bits.

Now I get to make up four questions for you. Here goes.

1. Two parts of you are dueling. What parts? Who wins?
2. Do you give inanimate objects names? Anything specific?
3. How restricted do you feel when blogging because you don’t want to upset someone (a specific person or group of people)? Do you really comb your posts for things that will offend or do you let it all hang out?
4. What do you like to read about most on other people’s blogs?

I’m supposed to tag some people to answer these, but as usual I hate that part. I’ll tag a few people, but definitely don’t feel you have to comply. Also, anyone I didn’t tag, feel free to answer. And for those of you who I tag all of the time...well, that's just what you get for knowing me. (Plus I want to know what you'll say.)

Kat at Grass Stains
Tezzie at Not Always Picture Perfect
Mrs. Mayhem at Mothering Mayhem
Stef at Oops, There Goes My Mind
Jen at Hamster Central
Jen at Denton Sanitorium
April at april, maybe
Los at Plethora

i is for invierno

2010-11-18T11:48:00.001Z

As we rapidly approach invierno (winter), I am very excited about the cold weather, the possibilty of snow and all of the slushy wellie-wearing messes that go with it. I'm also a little sad to see otono (autumn) go. I'll miss images like these passing me as I make my frostbitten run around the lake.

But I'll be glad to get these back out!

Welcome in invierno!

meeting sabrina

2010-11-17T15:50:00.000Z

I’ve been meaning to write a quick post about this for a while and this Writer’s Workshop prompt has given me the catalyst.

5.) That one time you met your online friend in real life (was it everything you thought it would be?)

Sabrina from Bristolian Moments is, like me, an American expatriate living in the UK. When I found her blog I was delighted because she writes thoughtfully about many of the things I encounter as well. It seemed we had a lot in common. We’re approximately the same age, although we are from very different parts of the United States. Still, a displaced American is still a displaced American.

She and her hubby were in our town so we decided to meet for coffee. They were delightful. We had a nice long chat and it was good to hear a familiar voice and perspective. We only had a few hours as they were just passing through, but it was still good to put a real, living person with a blog. I completely forgot to take my camera (thirty lashes for me) so I don’t have any photos, but I promise to remedy that next time.

We are keeping in touch and we hope to see them again soon. We’ll probably be venturing into their part of the country after the holidays, so stay tuned in for more details and pictures!

There are so many people I've met online that I'd love to meet. Maybe one day I'll get around to traveling the world and meeting them all. Better yet, you can just all come to me. Thanks.

cake, crackers, mango

2010-11-16T15:57:00.000Z

It’s Tuesday. I’m feeling random again. So I thought I’d just tell you what’s in my head at the minute. Also, I’m going to participate in Random Tuesdays Thoughts and this time I’m going to get the link to work. See, just linked to it in that last sentence. I’m getting the hang of this whole “technology” and “Internet” thing. (Last week when I tried to link, I couldn’t. It was terrible. I lost sleep over it. I’m better now.)

Anyway. As if that wasn’t random enough…

I baked a cake yesterday. Here’s a photo of it. It’s a peach upside-down cake. It’s like pineapple upside-down cake except it’s made with…wait for it…cherries. Just kidding. It’s made with peaches. I made if from scratch and it’s maybe the most delicious thing ever to come out of our oven. That includes before I lived here. I mean, I love the Bear but a baker he is not. Bless him.

I’ve noticed that where I come from people will cover saying bad things by ending or beginning it with, “Bless him.” Or “Bless her heart.” Like, “He has a face like a bulldog, bless him.” And, “Bless her heart, she can’t drive to save her life.” It’s as though the fact that they are bestowing a blessing in there means it’s okay to insult someone. I condone this behavior because it’s a little bit nice and a little bit evil all at once.

I saw a box of Ritz crackers in the grocery store the other day and I was happy. Too happy. My brain said, “That’s a label I recognize. I want that. I WANT TEN BOXES OF THAT.” I was singing the praises of Nabisco and cradling the box like a child with a cuddly toy. The Bear gave me the ‘oh, no, not again’ face as I skipped to the cart with my new found treasure. Sadly, I can’t even remember if I liked Ritz crackers before moving to the UK or if it’s just a little bit of name brand home sickness. Who cares. I’ve got a box of Ritz crackers in the cupboard and all’s right with the world.

Getting back to the cake above, the Bear and I licked the batter bowl clean, raw eggs and all. Do not judge me. And do not even think about telling me that’s unsanitary and disgusting. If you do, I won’t like you anymore. However, if you’d like to tell me you do that too so that I feel better about getting salmonella poisoning, you may proceed. (Sorry to get a little defensive, but cake batter and I are close. We have an understanding – I defend it and it tastes delicious. It’s an arrangement that’s working out so far.)

Why are so many of my random thoughts about food today?

Speaking of food (yes, again), I feel much better about my “mangled mango” (as Jenners put it) debacle from last week. I never realized so many people ate mangoes* whole, right off the seed like an apple. I’m so proud of you all!! Thank you for letting me know that having to clean the sofa….and the dog afterwards isn’t that peculiar. And the carpet. And maybe my shirt…

(*Is the plural of "mango" really "mangoes"? That's so odd.)

I’m going to go now. I’m all randomed out.

Okay I’m really not, but I’m going to spare you until next week. MAYBE.

Random Tuesday Thoughts

even in cusco (!)

2010-11-15T11:24:00.001Z

Once upon a time the Bear and I were walking down the crowded streets of Cusco, Peru minding our own business. Then I saw something. Something...horrible...

Do you see it? Just there? No? Look closer...

Do you see it now?

GAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

In PERU? Is nowhere safe? *stunned*

When he gives his passport to the Immigration Control officer, does he sing "I love you, you love me?" (Incidentally, does that work? Just askin'.)

I would have gotten a better close-up photo for you but you know how I feel about people dressed up in costumes with giant heads. (If you don't, read about that here.) Also, Barney repulses me. Stupid purple dinosaur stalking me.

When I first thought I saw him we were moving through the crowd at speed and I just came to an immediate and complete stop. The following conversation ensued:

Me: "It can't be."
Bear: "What?"
Me: *stunned silence*
Bear: "What? WHAT?"
Me: (trying to see around the crowd) "Really? Here? Surely not.."
Bear: "What the bloody hell are you talking about?"
Me: "It's him. I don't FREAKIN' BELIEVE IT."
Bear: (grabbing me by my shoulders in preparation for a good shake) "Who, Paige? WHO? Tell me!"
Me: (quietly) "Barney."
Bear: (letting me go to scratch his head, make a funny face and look around) "Who's Barney?"
Me: (to myself) "Camera. Now."
Bear: (now yelling pretty loudly) "STOP. TELL ME WHO BARNEY IS. WHO IS BARNEY?!"
Me: (snapping back into reality a little) "Why are you yelling?"
Bear: (looks at me with big, round eyes) "Who. Is. Barney. Just answer the question."
Me. "What do you mean, 'Who's Barney?' That purple dinosaur. You've never heard of Barney?"
Bear: "Clearly I have not."
Me: "I need to get photos for my blog. Except don't get too far away from me because I don't want it to talk to me."
Bear: (dragging me away) "Let's go."
Me: (mumbling under my breath) "I can't believe it's friggin' Barney..."

Funny thing - no one so much as looked at the spectacle we caused while having that conversation.

I suppose that according to the fact that the Bear has never heard of him, England is the only place safe from the big purple pain in the posterior.

Who knew.

death by duck

2010-11-12T10:39:00.000Z

This little fella is so cute, isn't he? Posing for me on the waterfall like a good little birdie. Aww.

Right after this he came at me more like a bat out of the proverbial. Scared the crap out of me.

Yeah. I ran from a duck. Go ahead and make your fun.

.

h is for hair and help

2010-11-11T11:27:00.001Z

I have a dilemma. I really want (need) to get my hair cut. It's really long - too long - and it's time. The thing is, I've been contemplating a new do. I'm thinking of going shorter, like shoulder length. Right now, it's past my waist.

I like my long hair but for all the wrong reasons. I hide behind it because it's distracting. It's one of the first things people notice about me, which takes the pressure off other things. Not sure when I developed that outlook, but here we are.

{I don't have a recent picture of how long it is now. It's well past my waist now.

But as you can see, even when it's styled, it's still fuzzy.}

I was blessed with my mother's thick, dark mane. The color and texture seem to suit my face - as though mother nature intended it to be that way or something. But it's neither curly nor straight. I tend to describe it as "bumpy." It's almost constantly frizzy and if you so much as mention moisture in a conversation it's all over, making it difficult to maintain any style. I often wear it in an updo to keep from having to deal with it.

{My mom's hair is much straighter and darker than mine.}

The longer it gets the heavier it gets (and it's quite heavy), which means the flatter it gets. It just sort of hangs there. I chopped it off to my shoulders several years ago and loved it. It styled much better, was much more curly (in a good way) and it didn't take as long to dry. I did miss the length but the new style was fun for a while. The second time I did it I thought I'd feel the same. I cried for weeks.

I feel as though I should take the plunge and cut it off again. I'm just not sure. I'm scared I'll miss it. That it will look terrible. Plus, I don't want to hear the 1,358 people who are going to gasp and say, "WHY DID YOU CUT IT ALL OFF??" Because they will come. They always do.

{Always pulled back. Pitiful.}

So my question is - should I risk it, laugh in the face of my fears, inhibitions and insecurities or should I keep my long hair that I'm familiar with and very much love? And another thing - fringe (bangs) or no fringe?

{No fringe}

{Fringe. And some 80's sunglasses.

Also, the picture of me above in the green striped top has fringe.}

HELP ME.

confessions

2010-11-10T10:14:00.002Z

I’ve been thinking for a while now that I should start a series of posts about my confessions (because I often have thoughts such as, "The Internet doesn't think I'm strange enough. Must work on that today." Now I have an excuse: a Writer’s Workshop prompt! It’s been a while since I did one of these, so I’m going to participate this week. Here’s the prompt:

2.) What are your confessions?

Sometimes the prompts are just irresistible, aren’t they?

Anyway, here are a few of my confessions.

* MANGO: One time I had a whole mango in the fridge so I decided to cut it up, eat some of it and then put the rest back in the fridge for a salad or something later. I peeled it and started to chop but an overwhelming urge came over me and I just started taking bites out of it like an apple. I ate the whole thing. Mango juice was everywhere – on me, the table, the dog. And I scraped the seed clean with my teeth. I’m sure I looked like a wild animal when it was over. IT WAS AWESOME.

* HOUSEWORK: I usually do housework in my underwear. No idea why, but there you go.

* TRIVIA: Quiz shows are my guilty pleasure. Anything trivia. I love a good trivia question or twelve. I’m not good at it, mind you, but I love them.

* SHOWER: I sometimes shower just for warmth. It’s cold here right now and if the heat is turned down too low waiting for it to warm the house up sufficiently takes too long for someone who has zero patience. Wasteful? Maybe. Effective? Definitely.

* FRIENDS: It sometimes takes me a few minutes to recognize a few of my friends on Facebook. There are more that 300 people on there and some of them I haven’t seen in years. And sometimes their profile picture is of a skull or a cat’s tail or something.

* CROCS: I own three pairs of Crocs. Yes, I’m aware that they are ugly – but they are comfy. AND you can clean them with bleach. Anything you can clean with bleach is okay in my book. Because germs are not our friends – especially shoe germs.

Yes. I'm just going to stop now.

s'mores! (follow-up from yesterday)

2010-11-09T11:31:00.000Z

In response to yesterday's post Stef and Anita said the bonfire photos made them crave s'mores. First of all, thanks a lot because now I'm craving s'mores. See what you've done.

Secondly, H, who happens to be British, asked what s'mores were. I repressed my instinct to say, "YOU'VE NEVER HAD S'MORES??" because I remembered that I've had to educate many a Briton about the joys of the delicacy.

Basically, you roast a marshmallow over an open fire until it's melty, gooey and soft and then smash it between two graham crackers, along with a chuck of chocolate. Since there are no graham crackers in England that I've found (I know - you're feeling pretty sorry for me right now) I use rich tea biscuits or digestives.

That's it. Simple deliciousness.

You can also make them in the microwave if you're desperate and it's raining because you live in England.

I'd post some pictures but I've never had any survive long enough for a shutter to catch them. Here's a picture of one that I didn't take, however.

{image here}

Now I bet you're REALLY craving s'mores.

*Today I'm linking to Communal Global, like several other people from around the world!

sparklers! (and bonfire night)

2010-11-08T11:29:00.000Z

Sparklers are one of those things that me very happy. They are fun and bright and they remind me of Independence Day. Here in lovely England, we use them on Bonfire Night. This year the holiday fell on Friday night which means, apparently, that we have to celebrate on Saturday and Sunday instead. Not sure why, but there you go. So we've celebrated Bonfire Night all weekend. We started with our own little bonfire and some sparklers. YAY!

First of all, there are always these:

Then our own little bonfire in the back garden, with a special appearance from our cat.

On Sunday we went to the Bonfire Night fun fair and fireworks display.

There were lots of rides, but we just walked around and looked at them. We're old, you know.

This guy doesn't look too sure, either...

You could get some healthy snacks...

...and win a giant stuffed banana. Who doesn't want a giant stuffed banana? No one, that's who.

Then we watched the fireworks display.

Well, we may be old, but we're not too old for cotton candy.

A very fun night!

thanksgiving prep

2010-11-06T13:46:00.001Z

I've started thinking about our second annual Thanksgiving in England dinner and I remembered how much this cake from Cake Wrecks made me laugh.

Gooble, gooble.

*To read the post about Canada from which this came, click here.

g is for graffiti, grand and blood. what?

2010-11-04T10:35:00.000Z

There's not a lot of graffiti around here that I've seen but this caught my attention yesterday:

It's the message that got me - what if there were no music? GASP. HORROR. Life just wouldn't be worth living anymore! Speaking of not living life anymore, you should have seen the Bear and I traipsing up the motorway to get this photo. I'm surprised we didn't cause an accident.

Incidentally, when we saw the graffiti we were on our way to practice on this:

This is the baby grand I'll be taking my exam on soon. Since I only have a keyboard, I thought it would be good to practice on the real thing now and then. That's what dedication looks like, people.

Here I am, plugging away:

It's not Mozart, but it'll have to do for now.

My piano teacher, who has again had the nerve to have a life and go on vacation, told me to "practice hard" while he was gone. Well, practice hard I did. Want proof? Here's your proof:

Do you see that? No? LET ME ZOOM IN FOR YOU.

You know what that is? Blood. Mine. THAT is how hard I was practicing - until my fingers bled. Literally.

Not really sure how it happened, but my thumb started to bleed. I must have been really into my grade 2 music because I would never have known had the keyboard not suddenly turned crimson streaky red. I didn't stop practicing, though. I mean the damage was done by then and I need to practice, practice, practice!

It was a very good day and a very good practice, bloody appendage and nearly getting killed by oncoming traffic aside.

Oh and yes - I'll be sending this post to my piano teacher, rest assured. Everyone say hello.

perspective

2010-11-01T09:43:00.000Z

I love this time of year. My perspective on life seems to change with the seasons. This is what everything looks like to me right now.

.

candy!

2010-10-29T10:47:00.000+01:00

Today the Parcel Force (postie) guy woke me up at 8:30am from my sleep in (the nerve!) to give me a package that wouldn't fit through the letterbox (okay, you can live). *I'd tell you how adorable he was with his blond hair and tallness and how awful I looked but I get depressed having to repeat that story replacing the postie for steve the electrician and other various neighborhood cuties - so I'm not going to tell you that.

Anyway, the package was a box from Jen over at Hamster Central. I immediately opened it as soon as the door shut because I'm like a kid at Christmas when it comes to restraint (as in - without). And what to my wondering eyes should appear... (why all the Christmas references on a Halloween post, Paige?)

CANDY! From Japan! Japanese candy! Why are you not excited? Oh. Because I'm not sharing. Right.

I'd say I'd share with you if you were here, but I barely share with the Bear. It's candy. I'm greedy. THERE, I'VE SAID IT.

The orange box are milk caramels which were very tasty. They remind me of the ones that you dip apples in after you've impaled them with a stick. Except yummier. The chocolate almonds were delish - the chocolate had crispies in it and I love a chocolate covered crispy.

The black chocolate was sinful dark chocolate. The other two are hi-chews, grape and orange fruity soft chews - and my favorite. I love fruity chewy candy. Big fan of Starburst, over here.

It was great haul - both the Bear and I liked everything. Thanks, Jen! It was a nice candy day.

i fear

2010-10-28T12:33:00.001+01:00

I’m not a normal person. The things I fear and don’t fear make no sense in a rational realm. Phobias, definition perfect. For example, I don’t fear flying, death or public speaking (that whole imagining the audience in their underwear thing is quite effective). Those seem pretty common and they are natural fears that make sense. And yet…they don’t bother me a bit. Heck, I could give a speech about death while jumping out of a plane – easy.

I, on the other hand, fear things like spider crickets. If you are so inclined, you can read about that here. Don’t laugh. Okay, laugh a little but at least do it behind my back. I’m told that they will not harm you but I don’t believe all of you liars who’ve told me that. I don’t care if you are a “scientist.” I maintain that spider crickets are aliens from the planet Killallhumans who’ve come to destroy us. But that’s just me.

I also fear the dark. I guess this is a throwback to my childhood or something. I like for it to be dark-ish when I sleep because I paid attention in biology and I know I need all the help I can get with getting enough sleep. However, dark-ish is very different from dark. The difference is about as long as I can scream to the top of my voice before passing out. I do not do well with total darkness. Or a dark alley with strangers who are trying to kill me. Or a dark alley full of spider crickets.

And here come the nightmares.

Another thing I fear is my piano teacher. Not in the I-think-he’s-going-to-kill-me-and-bury-me-under-the-front-steps way. More the he’s-watching-me-so-I-can’t-get-this-wrong-OH-CRAP-I-JUST-GOT-IT-WRONG way. If you met him you’d probably turn to me and say, “You’re afraid of him? But he’s so…nice.” And I’d respond with, “But you just don’t know.” To be fair, he is very nice. He’s one of the nicest people I know. But he’s a perfectionist and he’s very perceptive. He’s exactly the type of teacher I need, as I’ve said before. HOWEVER, after several months of lessons I still shake before I go in. Like I’m six years old. (Just in case I disappear, though, my piano teacher killed me and buried me under his front steps.)

And I fear buses. Well, not so much the bus or even riding a bus – just navigating the bus system alone. The moment I step on board I just know I’ll get off at the wrong stop, not know what to do and be lost FOREVER. So I don’t do buses alone unless I have it all worked out in advance. And I’ve made the journey before. With another person. So I won’t be lost forever AND alone. I haven’t always had this fear. Not sure when I developed it but it’s been within the last ten years because when I came to live in the UK the first time on a student visa I got on and off buses all of the time. I’d get off at completely the wrong stop, think, “Wow. This is a scary, scary neighborhood,” get back on the nearest bus and proceed to the next random location until fairies carried me home.

Oh and clowns. I really do fear clowns. I’ll run away and hide behind someone like a little girl if I see one. CREEP. E. That applies to all people in costumes where I can’t see their faces, too. Disney, I’m talking to you.

What do you fear? Do you have any phobias?

odds and ends (twelve)

2010-10-26T18:00:00.000+01:00

Random today, methinks.

SUGAR/DIET. I decided that I’d try to give up sugar for a month just to see what happened. So on September 22, I stopped eating refined sugar. I thought it would be so difficult because for some reason I thought most of my diet consisted of the evil stuff. It turns out it wasn’t that hard at all. I did have sugar-free diabetic chocolate (thank you, aspartame) and Splenda, which helped. But really – I didn’t miss it. Also, I didn’t feel any different at all. I thought maybe I’d feel the difference when I added it back to my diet, but…nothing. So. I’m still going to cut way down on how much I used to include in my diet, but I guess I don’t have to give it up entirely to feel better. I think after the holiday season I might try to give up yeast and salt. Has anyone ever done anything like this? What effect did it have?

IPOD/HEADPHONES. For some reason I always, always but my iPod headphone earbud thingies in the wrong way around. I don’t know about you, but in my ears that makes a difference. I even do it after I look at them first. I’ll look at them and then get distracted because they are tangled into a massive great knot and by the time I’ve gotten that worked out I have them the wrong way around again and I put them in the wrong ears. Doh!

PIANO/BRITISHNESS. I have an impending piano exam looming and I’m nearly ready (sort of). When I first got the book, I got the one for 2011 instead of 2010 so I was learning the wrong stuff for a while. It wasn’t entirely my fault, though, because I trust my piano teacher implicitly and got the book he said to get. He felt really bad and apologized and all that but I think he just did it so I wouldn’t know he’s a perfect robot person from space. Anyway, he let me use his book until my new (correct) one arrived. He even brought it to my house. Service, right? So I forgave him. But mostly because in the lesson immediately following that he used the word “twas” in a sentence. In normal, everyday life. CUTEST THING EVER.

OLIVES/CRAZY SAINSBURY’S. Sainsbury’s has green olives in a jar. These olives are stuffed with bits of jalapeno peppers. They are delicious. We are addicted to them. If Sainsbury’s stops stocking them (and they are prone to) we might have to order in bulk from the distributor. By the way, has anyone ever noticed that Sainsbury’s messes with your head? They move things just when you get used to where they were (US grocery stores don’t do that, that I’ve noticed) and if there’s a particular product that sells out a lot, they just stop selling it….instead of restocking more often. WTH, Sainsbury’s?

Okay. I feel better having shared all of that. Going to play the piano and drink a cup of tea now. Except not at the same time. Well, kind of at the same time because I’ll take turns….okay, going.

chicken tikka…on toast

2010-10-24T21:26:00.005+01:00

I made some food! But you need the background info first.

I love Great Britain. I love it a lot. One of the things I love most is the food. (Stop looking at me like that. It’s really nice. Except haggis. There’s no excuse for haggis.) Well, it’s more about the people and their preferences, but who wants to pick nits. There are a few things that puzzled me when I first arrived. One of them was what I’ve called the Great Curry Phenomenon of Britain. As I’ve said before, the people of this great nation tend to love a curry - it's quintessentially British. And by that I mean that if curry suddenly ceased to exist there would be anarchy, chaos and death.

Even saying the phrase, "I want a curry" confused me. What's "a" curry? Isn't that a spice or something? And it doesn't always mean the same dish. I was so confused.

The fact that nearly every single Briton likes a curry was a fact that boggled the mind and, truthfully, kinda freaked me out. As did the frequency of such a meal. The Bear and his family used to eat it for Christmas dinner. Turkey? Stuffing? Roasted potatoes? Nope. Just curry.

For those of you not in Britain, there’s a dish called Chicken Tikka Masala which was basically invented for the British. (For those of you who are in Britain, you’ve probably eaten this dish within the week. Am I right?) To me it’s like a sort of Indian dish without the bang. Less spice. Less needing to gulp down gallons of water and pointing at your tongue while trying to mime the word “fire.” It’s nice, it’s just not spicy ~~like good Indian food should be~~. Being foreign, I had never heard of Chicken Tikka Masala. Since moving here, I’ve been schooled.

Now, though I hate to admit it, I’m on board the curry train to infinity. I still don’t want it every ~~week~~ ~~day~~ meal, but the frequency with which I actually crave it has gone from zero to every couple of weeks in the last two years. I know. I’ve folded under the peer pressure.

So I decided I’d learn to make curry at home.

Fear me.

I’ve made several curry dishes and though I’m no Jamie Oliver, the Bear has loved all of it. (Which means it’s good. He knows these things. Because he’s British.) But until this weekend, I’d never made Chicken Tikka Masala.

Here is why I finally did…

I was having a conversation with someone this week about egg on toast, which is another thing I’ve noticed here in the UK. People will just have a fried egg…on some toast. That’s not so strange I suppose. However, beans on toast? I mean like baked beans out of a can, heated and poured on some toasted sandwich bread. Baked beans…on sandwich bread. Take a minute to wrap your head around that. I mean…am I the only person on Earth who thinks that just sounds nasty? Of course, a traditional English breakfast also includes baked beans, so maybe I’m just missing out on the baked bean glory just like I was missing out on curry. Beans on toast and egg on toast are the norm. The Bear also likes bacon on toast. Pretty much anything on toast is acceptable as a full meal.

Then I had a thought.

Why not combine the national dish (Chicken Tikka Masala) with the “everything’s good on toast” idea? Chicken Tikka Masala - on toast. GENIUS.

Stop making faces.

So I did it. And you know what? It was FREAKIN’ DELICIOUS. I even took a picture of the Bear's plate for you (my plate was the same but with tofu instead of dead bird). I’ve not really perfected the presentation – and tikka masala sauce just always looks nasty – but it was really, really tasty. I was surprised. Me joking around about this non-existent dish turned out to be a fun and yummy experiment. (I did make this up, right? I'm not going to find out people do this all of the time am I? People of Britain help me out here...)

Has this ever happened to you? You've made something as kind of a joke and it turns out great?

it had to be ewe

2010-10-21T12:25:00.000+01:00

This week for Alphabe-Thursday's letter "E" I thought I'd show you some pictures of the sheep I took a few months ago on a visit to Wales. However, I can't just show you boring photos of livestock, can I? No. No, I can't.

So here's the jazzed-up version!

Too corny? Not for the sheep! Ha! Ha! ...ha.

How about a little sheepy paranoia?

Not racy enough for you? Here you go.

*ahem*

Gossip! Everyone loves some gossip. Yes you do. Don't lie.

I have no excuse for the next one.

Not all sheep tell bad jokes. Some are cultured.

And some sheep just don't appreciate good humor.

I'm going to stop now.

a typical day

2010-10-19T22:53:00.003+01:00

My life is not a glamorous one. Well…most of the time it isn’t. Obviously I’m not counting the endless premieres of movies I’m in and the numerous book signings. And perhaps the ceaseless stream of fans screaming my name wherever I go. All of that is glamorous. But MOST of the time I just have regular days. Case in point…today. Jen over at Denton Sanitorium challenged her readers to post about a typical day in the life. As she says, my life isn’t perfect, but it’s very, very good.

Even though it involves animal feces of some sort on a regular basis.

So anyway, I decided I’d just do today. Today is just as good as any other.

7:05AM – Stumble (literally) out of bed in a sleepy stupor thinking I’ve slept in because of the light pouring in through the window. Look at the clock and realize that it’s 7:05 and light is streaming in because I live in England and mother nature hates me.

7:10AM – Finally move away from clock because the shock of being alive this early has worn off sufficiently for me to regain motor control.

7:10 – 8:00AM – Totally lose about fifty minutes to wandering around the house mumbling that I can’t find my socks.

8:01AM – Find and apply socks.

8:15AM – Having managed to dress myself in my running clothes, grab my guide dog puppy and head to the lake for a run.

8:45AM – Seriously questioning my own sanity as I begin to run and hear the sounds of mass protest from my joints and internal organs.

9:00AM – Look back to see my very happy and well-behaved guide dog keeping up the pace…and holding something in her mouth.

9:01AM – Realize said object in dog’s mouth is a huge horse turd.

9:01:20AM – Say in my calmest, most mortified voice, “LAURA. DROP.”

9:01:21AM - Laura drops offending object on the ground immediately, due to mommy's alarm.

9:02AM – Try to explain to my confused puppy that horse poo is not good eating.

9:03AM – Give up on explaining anything to a creature who eats horse manure and keep running.

9:15AM – Get home and take a shower because I feel dirty from the poo incident.

9:26AM – Jane shows up four minutes early to give Laura and I a ride to the Guide Dog Puppy Training.

10:15AM – Arrive at guide dog training. Laura is a star and we get lots of praise for a job well done. (From our supervisor's supervisor. Le Grand Fromage.)

11:15AM – Laura basks in the glory of all of the attention by peeing on command.

12:00PM – Back home with an exhausted puppy.

12:01-3:00PM – Various bits of cleaning, reading, etc. [I can neither confirm nor deny the possibility of a nap having occurred.]

3:00PM – Ate some stuff.

3:30PM – Scurry around trying to find what I need to request my degree transcripts so that I can look into getting another degree.

3:45PM – Realize everything I need to request transcripts is on another continent.

3:46PM – Really wishing I hadn’t given up swearing so that I could do so right now.

3:47PM – Make plans to call mom to have her send me stuff. Realize I’ll probably forget to call.

4:00PM – Look around for my next book to read on NPR and Jenners’ blog. Make a list of all potential books.

4:30PM – Take a nap with ~~my hot water bottle~~ Phoenix on my lap.

5:20PM – Bear comes home and wakes me from my hunched-over dog-holding nap.

5:30PM – Tell the Bear that Laura is a star, I’m not giving her back to the Guide Dog people and ask him if we can move to Spain.

5:31PM – Witness the Bear’s panic attack.

5:45PM – Come to my senses and realize that she’ll do a good job one day and that I shouldn’t be selfish.

5:46PM – Look for plane tickets to Spain.

6:00-7:05PM – Chatter to the Bear about how British people are in denial about being European and how cute I think that is. And how people from Yorkshire are precious.

7:05PM – The Bear gets sick of me cooing about accents and makes tea. I take the opportunity to go and practice piano.

7:10-9:10PM – Practice piano until my fingers hurt and I can’t anymore.

9:15PM – Remember to call my mom and ask for stuff for my transcript.

9:40PM - Pat myself on the back for remembering to call my mom. Smile at my cerebral prowess.

9:45PM – Make plans to see cousin Katie who looks like Olivia Newton John and her gorgeous husband and baby along with lovely cousins Sammy and Josie.

9:50PM – Tell cousin Katie that I forgot to mention that I hate her because she just had a baby and she’s already thin and still eats cake all day. And because she looks like Olivia Newton John.

10:00PM Decide to write this list of stuff I did all day before collapsing in a heap in my bed.

10:31PM – Post this and go to bed.

I know you envy me now, but we can't all lead the life of a rock star. However, I’ll be sure to mention all of my regular readers in my best-selling autobiography. It’s the least I can do.

hankisms

2010-10-18T12:56:00.000+01:00

If you don’t already know, Hank is my best friend in the whole world after the Bear. We’ve been friends for nearly a decade and a half and he’s perfect. He makes me laugh. So I share.

Once upon a time, I wrote a blog about my weaknesses and my loving pal sent me this: “As someone who loves you, your weaknesses are as follows: 1) You go through hobbies like a guy. I mean golf, karate, archery (what ever happened to that one?), Hebrew, French, piano, blogging, etc., - and I'm leaving off about twelve others. 2) You get way too upset about bad drivers, although I will say you take an airbag to the face like a pro.”

I must admit, he has a point. I do go through hobbies like socks. I’m pretty sure he left off more than twelve, too. However, I do not have road rage ~~except when people are stupid drivers~~. And do you want to know he knows about the airbag? He was the one driving. Yeah. He tries to kill me and then makes fun of me for surviving the airbag with both eyeballs intact. I love him so much.

Sometimes when I talk to Hank on the phone I forget that he’s a guy and I’m a girl. Therefore I sometimes start talking about things like flowers and fashion. Hank, being a good friend, will usually listen to me for a while before he reminds me that, frankly, he doesn’t care about lilies or handbags. Case in point: I was chattering away about some dish I’d recently cooked, complete with ingredients and the phrase, “You know what I mean?” His response to that was, “You know me and my wok. We’re tight.”

Okay, Hank. Shutting up about Orange Lacquered Tofu now.

I wrote a blog post that was one big metaphor about how I feel about music. Hank’s response: “…by the way – what’s a metaphor? Is that what killed the dinosaurs?” Just for the record, he was just poking fun. He knows the definition of a metaphor. Maybe he’s just trying to keep me talking about flowers and handbags.

He really is a nice guy. Sometimes he just treats me like a little sister. But if he ever gives me a swirly*, I’m totally telling people he peed on his bed until he was fifteen.

*In case you don’t know, a swirly is when the bully puts the nerd’s head in a toilet and flushes. I’ve never actually witness such an event but I’m told it happens.

letters from furbabies: sleep

2010-10-16T23:35:00.006+01:00

Dear Mommy,

You’re the best. I’m so happy when you let me sleep on your pillow between your head and daddy’s head. Sometime you wiggle and I do that thing were I sigh really loud like I’m completely frustrated with you. Sometimes I kick you really hard in the back because I want you to get out of the bed and leave it all for me…move over a little. Sometimes I get disgusted and just go sleep on the spare bed. But I love you and think you’re the ~~warmest~~ best thing in the world.

Love,
Phoenix

PS: Can we get a bigger bed for Christmas?

Dear Mother and Father,

The fact that I sleep outside is simply appalling. I demand that you build a feline complex adjacent to the house immediately. I’m practically royalty and I would like my diamond tiara and down feather bed delivered by the weekend.

Do it now,
Jessie

Dear Mommy,

I’m six months old. I like sleep. Pretty much anywhere. I feel tired. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Love,
Laura

d is for decisions

2010-10-14T13:15:00.001+01:00

I couldn’t decide what to make my “D” post about today, so I’m making it about the decision. Isn’t that ~~cheating~~ clever? Plus you get some bonus randomness, as I’ve been far too coherent on here lately.

At first I thought I might do a post about my new Nikon D90, but I’ve already told you about that and I haven’t really taken any spectacular photos with it yet. (I hear the gasps of shock.) Most of the photos have been of my doggies and you’re probably sick of photos of my furbabies by now. On a related note, doggies was in the list of potential “D” post options.

Speaking of them, you know you love dogs when you hear yourself cooing in your best baby voice, "Who's a good girl for making a poo? Who's a GOOD GIRL? You are. You're mommy's good girl..." Too far? I mean do people really want to hear about doo-doo in a “D” post? Probably not. To get your mind off of doo-doo, here’s a photo of Laura on one of her free runs to distract you (even though I said I wouldn't):

Then I thought I could make “D” for “dear” as in:

“Dear British People: Please stop giggling when I say “pants” instead of “trousers.” You know what I mean. Thanks, Paige.”

But then I thought that I kind of like it when they giggle, so I decided I’d only use that as example instead of a real “dear” letter. Sidenote: Anyone British who is reading this blog (and I know you’re there) please disregard the above letter. This has been a false alarm. Sidenote to the sidenote: Anyone who is not British – they call underwear “pants.” So if I say, “Would you like to see the new pants I bought?” It sometimes results in big eyes and lots of laughter. And sometimes a few nods of acceptance.

Enough about underwear.

Then I thought, “OOO…I could write about something delicious!” Then I realized that I’m one of those losers who A) doesn’t photograph the food I make because I’m too busy eating it and B) have no real recipes because I’m not what you’d call a “measurer.” So that’s out. I did make this yummy swirly cake recently. I didn’t have any but the Bear said it was quite tasty.

Okay, that’s all I’ve got. I’ve been squeezed dry of all things “D.” I have a tiny headache that I need to take for a run around the lake now. If you hear sounds of struggling it’s because I had to beat it up a little to get rid of it.

Have a delightful day!

working out

2010-10-12T20:17:00.000+01:00

So I thought I’d do Ten on Tuesday this week because I like answering questions. This week it’s about working out, which I (sort of) do.

1.What does your work out schedule look like?

It looks like me running around the lake a couple of times almost everyday (about five or six days a week). That’s pretty much all I do these days. I used to do yoga, but yoga and I are having a fight right now. We might get back together someday soon, though. I miss you, yoga.

2. What is your favorite machine to use at the gym?

I hate gyms. I’m an organizer but I need to let my free spirit soar when it comes to exercise. I go for a run everyday, but I go when the urge strikes me and I feel like it. If that’s 6am or if it’s 5:30pm – that’s when I go. Plus, I think I can get a workout on my own without the ridiculous prices of gym membership. I never use them enough to justify cost. I’d just go get in the sauna and be done with it (which is what the Bear and I used to do when we were members of Virgin Active).

3. What is your favorite class to take at the gym?

See above.

4. Where do you shop for work out gear and clothing?

Don’t care. As long as the clothes fit and function, I’m not really a prima donna about it.

5. If you can’t go to the gym, do you have a favorite outdoor activity?

Running. And photography. That’s a sport, right?

6. What about a favorite work out DVD? If so, please share!

I only have yoga dvds. I don’t think I have a favorite.

7. Are you more active now or when you were in high school?

About the same, in different ways. I was a cheerleader and I did lots of activities – always doing something – when I was in high school. It’s the same now except I run instead of cheer and I have to put A LOT more effort into it.

8. How has your dieting/working out philosophy changed since high school?

In high school I ate what I pleased and never gained an ounce. Now I try to eat much more healthy foods. I also write down every single thing I eat, including calories. It helps keep me on track with protein, calories, fat, etc. Since I’m a vegetarian I have to watch that stuff, I find. The massive spreadsheet I keep also holds the information about my exercise, water intake and overall monthly averages. I know, I’m a little OCD, but otherwise I’d just eat Krispy Kreme donuts and play the piano all day.

9. What do you do while working out– (i.e., day dream, read, listen to music, gab with a friend)?

MUST LISTEN TO MUSIC. Read about that in this post. I like to work out alone because I don't like to talk to anyone. I also daydream, though. I can multi-task.

10. What working out resolution would you like to make for yourself this year?

To not collapse in a heap at any point before, during or after. I think I can manage that. Maybe. Unless I’m in Peru. Read about that here.

my new (electronic) baby

2010-10-08T19:13:00.000+01:00

A couple of weeks ago, my DSLR camera died. It was a Nikon D40x and I loved it like a baby. I was crushed. Where was I when this happened? Sightseeing in London, as luck would have it. With my parents. Who were on their first UK trip. FAIL. We had their compact camera for the rest of the day but it's so not the same. I may or may not have cried a little.

Anyway, I have been going through a debate with myself about whether or not to stick with Nikon or make the switch to Canon. Both have pros and cons, so I asked around and did some research. Just to save you two weeks of your own life - they are pretty much equal apart from a few preferences.

I borrowed my lovely neighbor's Canon EOS 500D and loved it. So much, in fact, that I had decided to make the switch to Canon and get the EOS 550D. We went to the camera shop, I saw the Nikon D90 and promptly walked back out of the shop (sans camera) to do more research.

I like the Canons but the build just doesn't feel the same as Nikon. The D90 is more than a fps faster than the EOS 550D and I like the Nikon buttons and menus marginally better. I think the big decision maker for me is that I already have Nikkor lenses and they fit almost all Nikon cameras, so I wouldn't have to start from scratch.

So I ended up with this:

{Image here}

I got the kit that came with the 18-105mm lens because it's slightly better than my 18-55mm in length and the fact that it has vibration reduction.

{Image here}

I also have the Nikkor 55-200mm lens that I can still use with the D90.

{Image here}

NOW. I was going to get a new lens, too, because at this camera shop you get amazing deals when you buy lots of things together (we got a polarizing filter for half price and 25% off an extra battery). I wanted this macro lens, 105mm...

{Image here}

...but ended up not getting it because it was as much as the body of the camera. Yeah. No macro for me. I do have big plans to get it sometime in the sort of near future, however. I'll let you know when that happens. You'll probably hear the squeals of delight all around the world.

But for now, I'm a very happy girl with a new DSLR.

c is for caption

2010-10-07T11:35:00.001+01:00

I've been trying to decide on a caption for this photo for Laura's scrapbook for a long time (as evidenced by the fact that she's about three times that size now, possibly more).

Any thoughts? Here are some ideas I had (Laura is the lab and Phoenix is our toy poodle):

"Poodle, you're coming with me. You have the right to remain silent..."

"I'm bustin' outta here, ya see."

"Don't do it! You have so much to live for!"

"It's over Laura. It didn't work out. Just let me go."

See - no good. I hope you can do better!

questions from kat

2010-10-06T23:39:00.005+01:00

My friend and fellow blogger Kat tagged me with some questions about Fall. Now you all know I love to answer a question. About pretty much anything. So who am I to say no?

1. Do you like Starbucks? And are you a fan of their seasonal coffees?
Yes. I’m not sure what it is about their coffees, but they are better than other coffee. It might be quality. It might be psychological. It might be drugged. Either way, it’s better in my opinion. Also, they have sugar free syrups and stupid Costa doesn’t. STUPID COSTA. I love seasonal coffees, especially the pumpkiny one. Yum.

2. How do you decorate and prepare for Fall?
I used to decorate the house with all sorts of fall stuff. I don’t so much now. Back in the states I loved fall more than anything because it meant that the mean, mean, horrible hot summer was finally going to die for a few weeks. Here in the UK it’s fall everyday! So I don’t need to decorate or celebrate. Plus, people would look at me funny. So I don’t decorate but I do prepare by being really, really excited. On the inside.

3. Will you participate in your college's homecoming activities?
No, as it’s four thousand miles away. And they don’t have a football team. Although I’d probably be celebrating with my high school if I was there.

4. What is your favorite Fall clothing item or accessory?
Anything warm and fuzzy. I love warm clothing. Again in the states I had only a few weeks to wear sweaters and such. Here, in heaven, I have the whole year.

5. What was your favorite Halloween costume as a kid?
Definitely the plastic lion mask costume. That was the best costume EVER. (The little one is me.)

6. Do you like Halloween/Horror movies? Do you have a favorite?
Not really, no.

7. What is your favorite Fall activity?
I used to love playing in the leaves as a child. We did hayrides, too, which usually ended with a bonfire and marshmallow roast. I miss that a lot. I also love taking walks in the crisp weather. Fall is the best season EVER.

8. What is your favorite Fall recipe?
Too. Many. Recipes….. I’m doing a tour through pumpkin recipes this year around Thanksgiving and Christmas. If I don’t forget I’ll try to post some of the results. Pumpkin is the best food EVER.

Here are an extra eight quick ones:

1. What movie coming out soon are you looking forward to seeing?
No idea what movies are coming out. I’m in a movie black hole. Any suggestions?

2. What will you miss most about summer?
Normally I’d say nothing but I think I’ll miss the multiple sunny days in a row.

3. When do you start your holiday shopping?
As soon as possible. I try to be done before about the first or second week of December. But I don’t do it all year around like some people do. I can’t focus like that.

4. Favorite exercise/activity?
Running is my favorite exercise – or maybe squash. Favorite activity? There are too many.

5. Best book you've read lately?
I haven’t read anything since the Twilight series and I wouldn’t classify any of those as worthy of this question. No idea what I read before that. My favorite book ever is Moby Dick. I think.

6. Do you make your bed every day?
Yes, as soon as I get up. It’s easy with only a duvet.

7. If you could choose a personal chef over a personal shopper, which would you choose?
Personal chef

8. Which TV show are you most excited for this Fall?
None. Almost never watch tv. Even if I did, we have like six channels. And zero good ones.

Okay, so I’m going to tag some people if they’d like to do it. If not, just totally ignore me like. Also, if anyone else answers them let me know so I can see!

- Jen
- Jenners
- Jenny
- Mrs. Mayhem
- Tezzie
- Stef

one of those days

2010-10-04T22:16:00.000+01:00

Have you ever just had one of those days when you want to blog about all of the fun and exciting things in your head and the fabulous stuff that's happened to you recently...but you just cannot be bothered?

I'm having one of those days. It's not that I'm out of stuff to blog about, I just don't feel prepared to type it all out.

So I'm going to wait until tomorrow.

Right now, I'm going to bed.

an attitude change

2010-10-01T21:48:00.000+01:00

Did you two do your chores today?

Oh, it's like that is it?

Did you forget who will be making dinner for both of you?

That's better.

Don't you just love it when you upload photos and they tell a story of their own? The same thing happened on tomorrow's post on Laura's blog called "I'm a Lady." Check it out!

b is for bouncing baby

2010-09-30T15:30:00.000+01:00

We recently went to visit the Bear's parents, a journey that takes about an hour and a half by car. The dogs were very good for the car ride but when we got there they needed to release some energy so we let them run in the garden for a while. It's a good thing for little Phoenix because I think that she might have exploded otherwise.

Look at the air underneath her! Fly! Be free!

parental quotations (and photos)

2010-09-29T12:01:00.000+01:00

Here are some of my favorite quotations from my lovely parents while they were here. I love them. I love them very much.

Upon seeing our back yard for the first time, my mother started this conversation:

Mom: “Your garden is cute - it looks so…English.” [“English” was whispered so the neighbors wouldn’t hear her.]
Me: “You don’t have to whisper. I’m pretty sure they know they are English.”
Mom: “Just in case.”

{Inside Windsor Castle}

Here are some quotes from one of the train rides to and from London.

“Your green bag matches my eye.” – My mother, who has one green eye and one blue eye.

“My adrenal glands are like prunes. London sucked them dry.” – Mommy

“Maybe you need to get somewhere and lie down.” – My dad to my mom after her fifth giggling fit.

After several hours of trekking around London:

Me: “How are you? Okay?
Dad: “Fine. Fine. This is fun!”
Mom: “I’m fine too.” – pause – “Wait, I’m getting a message from my legs: NOT FINE.”

{More taking photos of photos, in front of Westminster Abbey.}

While driving around in random parts of England:

“Ooo…another round thing. Weeeee!” My mom upon the approach to a roundabout in the car.

“Let’s go back to Pilladiccy Circus. Pickle-dilly. Whatever.” My dad, who loved Piccadilly Circus

{My mom and dad at Piccadilly Circus. My dad loved this part of London.}

As we were walking around in Cambridge:

The Bear (to dad): Are you good at multi-tasking?
Dad: I’m not even good at tasking.

{In front of a phone box in Cambridge}

Laura goes to the potty on command because she’s going to be a guide dog some day and it’s important that she does everything at the appropriate time. To get her to go the command is “busy-busy.” Rest assured that both of my parents took the opportunity to use that on each other at every turn. If one of them was in the bathroom the other would walk by and yell, “Busy, busy!” through the door. Mature.

{In front of the open market in Cambridge.}

They left today and I already miss them so much.

[PS: A hint about yesterday's post: The answer is in one of the tags. I'm surprised it was that difficult. Not surprised if you didn't bother reading it. Should have put some photos in there. And some candy. Come on! I know you can do it! ]

an insight

2010-09-28T12:58:00.000+01:00

The time has come.

I’m moving to a different nation. It’s not a permanent move. No, it’s more like a vacation place. There’s so much to do to prepare and I’ve only just begun. I’m anxious but also elated. I know I’ll get there okay, even if it takes me a while. I have the best map there is.

I need a place to escape to when life gets to be too much. Or too little. Somewhere safe to go. Life is often to small to hold all that my consciousness can produce. It becomes wild and crazed. My mind needs stretching room. There is a place where I can be all that I am. I’ve been looking for it for a while. I think I have found it. The true test is to move there and submerse myself in it. It’s bigger than the world we live in and I want to consume it all.

One bit at a time.

I’m learning the language but it takes time. Sometimes it clicks into place quickly and sometimes I struggle to get the words just right. I see signs…or books I want to read…and none of it looks familiar. You can’t bring books of another language to this place. I must learn to read what is already here. I must study. At one moment I think I have it and then realize that I’m not saying exactly what I thought I was. My guide whispers the corrections to me gently and I make notes. At least I’m not completely alone. I’d never make it. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

It’s not enough to simply learn to speak. I must also absorb the culture. Why do people do things in this way? What are the rules of communicating? There is right and wrong, but it’s often ambiguous. How did these people get to this stage of civilization? It is important that I find out. Everything depends on it. I must know so that I can choose where I will spend my time. Will I be known as a resident of this village or that part of town? Which parts of this culture will I adopt as my own? Will they accept me?

And then there are the people.

I’m slowly being introduced to them. Actually, my guide points them out to me from afar. We can rarely talk to them. Not yet. However, I know about their families. Their histories. Some of their motivations for coming to this place. We’re all immigrants here. Some were younger when they arrived, some older. Some have a bigger home and some are well known. Many are like me. We come to escape and recuperate. We carve out our small space to enjoy. We are alone and connected all at once.

I have to pay attention. I am learning whose words I’d like to repeat, if only in a more inferior voice. I’m learning who will challenge me and who will calm my raging thoughts. Who will bring me joy with their words and who will travel with me as I lament? These are heavy burdens because my joys can carry me beyond what mere human life can withstand and my lamentations are greater than the ocean to a drop. These people will help me when life becomes too much to bear. They will meet me when I arrive. They will always be there.

My guide is trekking with me. He has made the journey many times. I know nothing about him but his reason for travelling must be similar to mine. I don’t know of any other reason to leave home, alone, and seek a strange new place. A familiar old place to your soul. If the need doesn’t arise from within, there is no explanation to those without. We don’t really talk, my guide and I. Not with the language of everyday life. He speaks to me in my new language. It’s good for me, but limiting. I must learn to speak faster. No. I must learn to speak clearer.

I hope that one day my guide will be one of the people I get to study and know. I trust his directions even when I’m uncertain or uncomfortable. Even when I am a stubborn sojourner he has always been kind to me, nudging me forward at the appropriate heading. Maybe this extraordinary place breeds patience in its inhabitants. Maybe I’m just fortunate to have crossed his path. Maybe it’s fate.

Thinking it’s fate makes me feel better because I know I’ll belong one day.

I have memories from childhood of the feelings I get in my new…old…home. I was here before. Even then, I travelled mostly alone. There are photos in my mind of words, books, sounds, scenes, guides, landmarks. Now and then I recognize something I see in a bookshop. My mind sometimes surprises me with its recall. It is still difficult to be present in life while at the same time cultivating my new nationality. I need both. I want both. All of my consciousness is finally engaged. For now.

At first I stalled. I tried to pretend that I didn’t need deliverance from the monotony of maintaining my piece of the human machine. I thought I could will myself into calling my journey a whim, a dance. One song and I’m healed. I now know that I must make the pilgrimage often. I must run toward this new permanent temporary habitation and I must do it everyday. This is where I will go to save myself from me. I can’t pretend I don’t need the quest anymore. It is a good need. A strong need. A wilful need. An imminent need.

The time has come.

{This is a fraction of a glimpse into a sliver of my life at this present moment. My life is a metaphor. Everything is something else.

Are you making a journey? Have you made this journey before? Do you understand? Do you know what the metaphor means?}

more outtakes

2010-09-27T12:40:00.000+01:00

Yesterday while I was taking this photo of my beautiful mother...

...I also got this photo:

*sigh*

outtakes

2010-09-25T17:24:00.000+01:00

Between the four of us, we've taken hundreds of photos since my parents arrived. I thought I'd give you some of the ones dubbed "not blog worthy." Keeping it real and all.

Like this one. I finally get the two parent children to cooperate and take a decent photo and look who decides to mess up the shot:

Nice. Now I have THREE kids. Wonderful. Or this gem that got snapped as we tried to take a family photo. Never work with kids or animals. Here's photographic proof of that statement. Dad's eyes closed, mother looking angry, cat trying to get away, dog trying to get cat, guide dog trying to get me, me trying to get away. Yep, all around great photo.

Awesome. Or maybe this one. I had just said, "I'm going to get a photo of us in the car. Ready?" "Ready!" they all say. And then click.

The Bear was driving but he could have at least smiled. My mom has no excuses apart from her two second attention span. How about this next one: "I'm gonna need to call you back. I need to take a photo."

This would have been a perfect shot...iiiiiiiiiiif the idiot photographer (that'd be me) had gotten the focus right. FAIL.

The next one captures the happiness they all felt for being on the London Eye. Absolutely mesmerized. Dad: "What are you talking about?" The Bear: "Where's my candy?" Mom: "I dare you to scream 'fire.'"

The best outtake so far has to be this one my mom took at the Tower of London. WIN! She totally meant to take a photo of my shoulder. That yeomen just happened to be in the background.

Ah, the perils of photography.

more of my parents in london

2010-09-24T13:17:00.000+01:00

If you’ve just tuned in, my parents are visiting me from the states. It has been most enjoyable. They are easy to get along with and great vacationing companions. They are also really, really funny.

{Taking a photo of taking a photo at the Tower of London. Photo taking is a serious art that must be documented thoroughly with more photo taking.}

We’ve been to London twice and they loved it like kids love candy. Everything was the greatest thing ever. They managed to fit in with the locals pretty well, too. (Except maybe the backpacks. And the cameras. And the neon signs around their necks that said "TOURIST.")

{My dad LOVED Picadilly Circus. More about that later.}

Anyone who’s been on the London Underground knows there are those people who will push you out of the way to get a seat. My parents are apparently those people. They always managed to find a spot to sit even at rush hour. Once I looked up and my dad had found a spot near where I was standing and my mom was halfway down the car in a seat next to strangers. I only looked away for a minute. They have a rare talent. And people didn’t mind. If I had done it, I’d have gotten told off. Or I never would have found a seat. I suppose some people are natural Londoners and some people are me.

{On the tube. They whisper and giggle all of the time. Like the children they are.}

While we were there, I saw a Starbucks and asked them if they’d like some coffee. My mom, being addicted to coffee (see this post from a few months ago about their coffee addiction) screamed, “COFFEE!” as loud as she possibly could while also waving her arms around. In the crowded street. In the middle of London. And not a single person looked at her. I love this city.

{At the Starbucks beside Tower Bridge.}

On the way home from London I gave my dad a mint flavored licorice all sort to try. He hated it. He made a face that resembled that of the best W.C. Fields impression. Yet he continued to eat it. And much to the amusement of our fellow train travelers, complain about it. Loudly. Like a four-year-old. I had to give him a cookie to get him to quiet down. Who needs kids, is all I have to say.

{Very tired and about to exit the Underground.}

I have several of their finest quotes ready for a blog post, too, but that will have to wait for another day.

a is for always

2010-09-23T11:16:00.001+01:00

As in...what am I ALWAYS doing (or as it seems, I'm told)? This:

I took 8GB of photos yesterday. I was so busy snapping that I didn't even take off my sunglasses. What was I taking so many photos of? Here are some clues:

Twenty points if you can tell me what this is (and you've not already seen it on my Facebook page).

I'll tell you later this week/weekend and show you more photos. I'll also tell you about how my ~~favorite electronic baby~~ SLR camera died this week and the quest to decide on a replacement. It's a difficult story. But just for you, I'll tell you about my pain.

Now, off to backup all of these photos...

more hank

2010-09-21T21:49:00.000+01:00

Remember my friend Hank? I thought we should talk about him again.

Since he lives stateside and I’m over here in merry ‘ol England, I chat with him on the phone pretty regularly. The last time I talked to him he was telling me a story that still gives me nightmares. And now I’m going to tell you. Because I clothe and feed this blog and I’m sending it to college and I can say what I want on here.

So we were talking and he just started casually telling me about how the other day while he was at this hotel (because he travels for work) an odd thing happened. He had gotten completely dressed and was eating breakfast when he felt something in his shoe. It was an odd sensation, he tells me, a sort of wiggling. Then he looked down and saw a head pop out around his sock. And then a bug crawled out and made a break for freedom. A live bug crawled out of his shoe. A live bug crawled out of his shoe. A live bug. Shoe.

When I bug crawls out of the shoe you’re wearing and walks away because it’s so hard core and bad – a** that you standing on it in a confined space for twenty minutes doesn’t phase it you don’t need to stay at that hotel again. EVER. Do what you’ve got to do to keep away from the place. Sleep in the rental car. Pitch a tent. Whatever you’ve gotta do.

That was my official advice to him. He told the story sort of nonchalantly, like it could happen to anyone and any time. If that is true, what kind of world do we live in? Tell me, is there no safety?

Because, as I screeched to Hank, if that happened to me I’d be killed dead on the spot. Deader than 80’s fashion. I’m not afraid of bugs but if a live one crawls out of anything I’m wearing life just isn’t worth living any more.

I think I just threw up on my mouth a little just telling you the story.

If you’ll excuse me.

PS: More about my precious parents later. I haven't had time to wrangle the photos yet. But since I talked to Hank today I thought I'd check in and keep you updated. Because I'm a good blogger that way.

my parents in london

2010-09-19T11:27:00.000+01:00

Having my parents here is a real treat. They are sweet, wonderful people and such good houseguests. They are also silly. And regressing.

They've gotten to about four years old.

You'll see. Over the next several days I'll post some of the things they've said and done. It's like having two toddlers. But they are cute toddlers.

Case in point: This is a conversation I had with my mom about a week before they left home to come and visit us.

Mom: “Will you take us to the grocery store when we get there?”
Me: “Sure. But we’ll have food in the house. We won’t need to.”
Mom: “Yes, but it’ll all be healthy. We want junk food.”

See. Four.

[On the way to London by train]

Then there's this conversation on the way home from the airport after picking them up. Granted, they were weary from the journey, but that's not where this came from. No, my friends, this is everyday material. Every. Day.

Mom (to my dad, kind of in a panic): “Did you see where I put my glasses?”
Dad (to mom, completely unphased): “You’re wearing them.”
Mom: “Oh.”

I'll be back with many more moments. Because this is only the beginning. I've already filled a sheet of A4 paper with things they've said that I must share with the Internet. Still going strong, too.

I love them dearly and wouldn't take anything for them ~~and their entertainment value~~. I'll be back with more as soon as I feed them and put them in front of a movie so I have a few minutes.

[In front of the Tower of London]

odds and ends 11

2010-09-17T12:12:00.000+01:00

I’ve got some random and in no way connected stuff to tell you. It’s important. It involves sweaters and Disney princesses. And London (sort of).

Okay so remember when I was whining about how my precious chiropractor, Dr. Rich, wouldn’t move with me to another continent? Well, I have another story about the quest to find a suitable replacement. (To read the original post from a few days ago, click here.) So I went back to The Marshmallow Clinic to give them a third try. I asked for an osteopath instead of a chiropractor this time, just for kicks. You know, to try my luck and what have you. When they called my name, out came Sabrina to take me back to her office. Imagine if you will a tiny twenty-something girl who looks remarkably like a Disney princess. There you have Sabrina, my new osteopath. I may have laughed out loud at the sight of her because my first thought was, “What is that tiny little person going to do? I mean, I’m not big either, but my spine is going to need a little muscle to twist it back into shape.” That thought was followed immediately by, “Very funny, Universe. Very funny.” Well, people of the Internet, I stand corrected. Little Disney princess got the job done. She was very strong – I wouldn’t challenge her to a fight. I suppose that just goes to show you that you can’t judge a book. I’ll be keeping her as my go-to spine tamer for the time being. But she’s still no Dr. Rich.

The End. And now for something completely different...

I have a pretty big family so at Christmas instead of everyone getting everyone else gifts we draw names from a hat so we only have to buy one gift each (except everyone buys a gift for Gramma, because she’s Gramma and that’s how life works). I love the idea until I get the name of someone who is difficult to buy for. You know what I mean – the person who has everything or worse – hates everything. All I can say is that I buy a lot of books. You can almost not go wrong with a book of some kind in my family. Or a sweater. Because even though my family lives in a climate that is hotter than that of the chromosphere of the sun, every one of us seems to think receiving a sweater for Christmas is awesome. Some things in life make sense just because they do.

I realize that this “odds and ends” is only two things so I should probably have called it “odd and end” instead. Well, it won’t be the first inaccuracy on my blog and I’m confident it won’t be the last.

Oh, wait…that last thing makes three. Now I don’t have to change the title of this post. HOORAY! (It’s the little things in life, people.)

PS: We're having some priceless moments over here with my parents visiting. We went to London yesterday and OH the stories I have to tell. Just the quotes alone will be a blog post. Stay tuned - when they are down for their nap, I'll try to get some photos and tales ready.

page 101

2010-09-14T16:27:00.001+01:00

It’s pretty obvious that I like English men. Got one of my very own. Surrounded by them. It’s not something I set out to do, but I like them nonetheless. At first I couldn’t explain it. But after all of these years, I think it may have started with this guy:

{image here}

John Winthrop.

That’s right, the governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony in the 1630’s. I know you already knew that but I was just stating it for the record.

You see, back when I was in the eighth grade I was spending a hot day in Mr. Mann’s history class bored out of my mind because at the time I detested history. (I’ve since done a complete 180 on that, but I digress.) I was sitting in one corner of the room and my friend Nadia was sitting in the far opposite corner because for some odd reason we always got separated during classes. Anyway, I glanced over at Nadia who appeared to be in pain with laughter and she caught my eye.

She mimed the numbers 1-0-1 and pointed to our history textbook. I flipped to page 101 and what to my wondering eyes should appear but the handsome chap above. John Winthrop. Due to (what I hope are) obvious reasons and the fact that I was about 12 years old, I immediately erupted in laughter. What else is an eighth grader to do? His face was the funniest thing I’d seen in my life to date.

We got sent to the principle’s office with a thunderous boom (Mr. Mann kinda had a temper). We laughed all the way there and probably through the detention we got for the whole ordeal (my only detention, ever). It was totally worth it. I had detention with my favorite teacher, Mr. Mehaffey, so it was okay.

For weeks after that, we bribed and begged people to rip that page out of their history book and give it to us so that we could have a collection for posterity. We amassed about 30 copies from what I remember. Defacing school textbooks – GOOD TIMES. Even years later when we were in high school and the textbooks were updated, we got the eight graders at the time to rip the new, improved photo of Mr. Winthrop out of their textbooks.

{image here}

His face has become burned into my brain for all eternity. About once a year or two either Nadia or I will find his photo and email it to the other, more than 15 years later. I’ve even looked at her in a restaurant or when we’re out on the town, pointed to a stranger and said, “He’s a real 101.” Mean…but funny.

So, John Winthrop, Mr. Governor, this blog post is for you and all of the happy times you’ve brought me.

Maybe this also explains why I tend to like older men. Much. Older.

how to torture satan

2010-09-13T11:55:00.000+01:00

As most of you know, I’m learning to play the piano. If you ask me if I can read music, my answer would be yes. If you ask my piano teacher the same question, the answer might be closer to “Almost” or “We’re optimistic about the future.” I played the clarinet for about six years in school (which was years ago) so I’m pretty good with treble clef. It’s bass clef that gets me. I’m learning but it’s still a slow process. I can eventually work it out and when I do I can play through the music, remembering what I’ve worked out. I’m just not quick at picking out every note yet (as in - it takes an age).

{image from here}

Which brings me to sight reading, or as I like to think of it – what you’d use if you wanted to torture the devil. I despise with fiery eyes the thing they call sight reading. Who came up with this and can we have them executed? There are ways to practice but I don’t want to. I just want to take a pill and be good at it. Playing the piano = fun! Sight reading = NOT FUN.

{image from here}

Also adding to the problem is the fact that my right hand is much, much stronger – and consequently more obedient – than my left hand. If my right hand is the most popular kid in school, president of the senior class, head cheerleader and valedictorian, my left hand is the kid who still eats paste. I’m currently in negotiations with my left hand to get its act together, but the process is much akin to squeezing hemoglobin out of root vegetable.

I’m not sure why I’m telling you this except that I’m about to go downstairs and start practicing again. I will probably take an exam soon and I need to hustle to get ready. I’ll not only be representing myself but I’ll also be representing my piano teacher so I’ve got to do well for the team. He’s the best teacher I could ever have found for me and a really nice guy but I know that he must be at least a little stressed about the ~~impending doom~~ exam and what I might manage to score.

To be fair, if I were him I’d be nervous, too. He has no idea how awesome I can be (maybe). And that I can’t just pass – I have to pass and get to the top level. Basically, I must overachieve. Because I’m like that. And a little bit because most of the people taking the test at this level are about seven years old, so I need to bring my extremely old woman A game. You know how it is when you need to beat little kids at something so you don’t feel you’ve passed through your best years never having accomplished what you could have. What? You don’t know what that’s like? OH.

Anyway, I need to pound out some scales and all that so I can reclaim the glory of my childhood achievements. Wish me luck. And if you have any of those sight reading pills, send me a case. I’m good for it.

wales

2010-09-11T14:43:00.002+01:00

We took a trip to Wales last weekend. We loaded up the puppy dogs and a picnic and drove. Here are some of the photos.

We stopped in the parking lot of this pub to take photos of the surrounding area.

Pretty, no?

As per the norm, there are sheepies everywhere. This one was not amused at my photography antics.

One of our intrepid babies.

Phoenix decided that a little La Traviata was appropriate for the occasion.

I have her pegged as Mimi. Don't you think? [Shutup Paige, no one listens to opera.] Anyway, here's another shot. For some reason I have a morbid fascination with photographing cemeteries. No idea why. Can't resist.

We had a really great day. Everyone stayed fed and happy and the weather was excellent.

*Check out Laura's blog - she's remembering all those who are sad on this day.

roses are red…and a mission

2010-09-09T00:11:00.003+01:00

Roses are red and violets are PURPLE.

Because violets are in no way blue. The color violet is purple. I just needed to clear that up.

Now.

I need to write about something violet (which is NOT, in fact, blue) to support my Alphabe-Thursday habit. No idea what to write. Maybe I’ll go around the house and see if I can find things that are purple and photograph them for you. Wait a sec…I’ll be right back. (Really am going to go right now while I leave this waiting on my laptop. The is cutting edge spontaneity you’re witnessing. Okay, so I’m going now…)

I’m back. I have to tell you that pickin’s are slim for things of the purple persuasion in the Paige, Bear and Menagerie homestead. We’re not a purple people, it seems. But because I’m dedicated to the cause and have no shame whatsoever, I dug through cupboards and shelves, closets and boxes, just to find something violet to show you. YOU’RE WELCOME.

Get ready for the excitement and the insight into my life. Also, get read for the flash on my compact camera because A) It was handy and B) We may not tolerate purple under our roof but we have a plenitude of darkness. (Mood lighting is much more flattering on the yoga clothes I wear around the house. Yeah.) AND I didn't edit any of these except for size, border and my name. I didn't want to distort the color (read: I couldn't be bothered).

Anyway, exciting item number one is soap. Yes, two kinds. Both purple. Purple is a shunned color here until it brings us soap. And then it's welcome. Welcome, soap of all colors.

Next up we have this dog toy that my parents sent to Phoenix last Christmas. Our dogs have umpteen million toys but they sent this anyway because, "They are our granddogs. They need gifts." Who can argue with that? Incidentally, both Phoenix and Laura love this toy. It makes a lot of noise. Yay.

Here's another violet thing - this tank top I got at JJill a few years ago. Yep, those are the tags still firmly in place. Why do these things happen? How could it have gotten overlooked? Did I wear it with the tag on? These are the mysteries of life.

I also found three - count 'em - three spools of thread, all varying shades of purple. Odd. So odd. Well, if I ever get around to wearing that shirt and I manage to get a hole in it (such a thing is not beyond the realm of possibility) I'll be able to mend it with thread enough to spare. I will rest easy tonight, my friends.

Oooo....and I found this book written by my ayurvedic doctor (that is a whole post on its own which I will share with you one day). I read it cover to cover. Good stuff in there. Charts and so forth. You know. Don't look for it on Amazon, though, because I'm sure it's not there. I got this copy from the trunk of his car. I mean he got it from the trunk of his car and gave it to me. I wasn't just rummaging in one of my doctors' cars. Well, maybe if was open and no one would find out.... KIDDING. I kid. Ha ha. Ha.

Moving on, I found another book, also about ayurveda, also in purple. I wonder if there's something about the color violet that is good for your constitution. Maybe it's just a popular color in India. Not that I would know what colors are popular in India because I've not made it there...YET. It's on my list, though, and blog about it I will. Maybe I've thought about this too much. Hmm. Look at this purple book and save me from this monologue with myself. Quickly.

My cousin, Leslie, gave me that book and another one about ayurveda for Christmas one year. She drew my name (we do that - another blog, another time). She asked me what I wanted and this is what I said. She was like, "Okay, whatever." Then she got them. You have to love people like that. Keepin' it simple and all that.

Anyway, moving on to the next thing...

I found this cd in the Bear's stash as I rummaged. This is the first time I laid eyes on it and I was filled with a mix of thinking it's kind of funny and being a little worried about that woman on the front cover. She looks like she's happy, though, which supports the title. And she's wearing purple. And the letters are purple. For those things, the cd goes in as exhibit G.

I'm not sure why I saved this for the grand finale because it's just a purple box with paper inside. We use it to write each other notes about when Laura was last fed, what time the Internet people didn't call today and picking up a pint of milk with which to make smoothies. It's our life line, as you can see. And it's the appropriate color for this lovely themed post.

So there you have it - we're boring, clean people with clothes we don't wear, cds we don't listen to and enough dog toys to keep a small zoo busy. And we write letters to each other about important life details on scraps of paper. And we read books about things people believed in India thousands of years ago.

Don't you wish you could spend a week here?

:::Postscript::: Due to my outrageous omission in yesterday's post, here is a picture of our cat, Jessie. She is not purple, but she is pretty. And now she's represented with a little blog love. I like this picture of her because it kinda looks like she's just a giant head on two tiny feet.

letters from furbabies: food

2010-09-07T01:45:00.000+01:00

Dear Laura,
Stop eating out of my food bowl.
Thanks.
Phoenix

Dear Phoenix,
Stop eating out of my food bowl.
Thanks.
Jessie

Dear Jessie,
Can I nibble on you?
Please?
Laura

Phoenix

Laura

Yeah. I don't have a new photo of Jessie. Apparently it's not equal opportunity for cats on the blog. Ah, well.