Bits and Bobs

It's been a while since I've been here. That's ok. Life has a way of interrupting all good intentions. Potty training, for example, requires one to drop what she's doing immediately and run to the toilet (as they call it here), throw a Lightin' McQueen potty seat on the porcelain, yank down the trousers (also what they call them here) of the pre-schooler, plop him on the seat, and hold her breath until the pre-schooler has either done the deed or cries because he didn't. On a good day its the former, rewarded with a sticker. If the latter(or an accident on the way because Momma was too slow with her potty-seat throwing), then it's about consolation and warm hugs so as not to "demonize" the toilet experience.
Ahem.
In any case, my point is that life is full of interruptions.So here's what life's like at the mo for us:
1. School is fine. When I say fine, I mean insanely busy. That's all I will say about it.. Except that report card writing is coming which means mental hibernation is imminent, followed by a nervous week of duck and cover. It's not that bad, but my anxiety creeps up my back and shoulders at the thought of the frenzied, last minute marking, bartering, and reporting that's coming.

2. I wrote my first official journalism article with my friend Mark. When I say I wrote it, I mean to say that he had an idea, and I helped guide his thoughts into something a bit more structured. It was published in a little indy-magazine and has since been linked to other interviews and shared with other sites in other parts of the world, including Detroit where there is a concerted effort to talk about the church's role in the Occupy Movement. I just learned you can also see it here on IndyMedia UK and Democratic Underground. Um. Weird.

3. I'm going into London tonight to the TS Elliot Award poetry reading. Here are the featured poets, if you're interested. Carol Ann Duffy, a British version of Canadian Margaret Atwood will be there, and I will be stalking her.. Believe it. Fortunately for me, I will be with my new colleagues who will surely hold me back if necessary, or (more likely) give me a leg up boost over the waiting crowd to get to the front of the line for an autograph in my copy of The Bees. :) Also, I'm pretty sure I'll fall in love with Daljit Nagra.

4. We taught Jack how to ride his scooter. This was supposed to help with the walking/whining pattern that occurs anytime we walk anywhere. The Brits walk A LOT. A mile wouldn't be considered a long walk to the train station, for example, much less walking around the block to get to daycare, which is what Rich does with Jack every morning. So far, Jack rides for a few seconds, whines about it being too hard, and one of ends up carrying the scooter and the other Jack.. WHO IS GETTING TOO BIG TO CARRY. It hasn't stopped us from going anywhere, though, and Jack is getting better at riding.  Or maybe Rich is building a lot of muscle mass..

So that's a little bit about now. I am off to catch a train.. I'll leave the story about how we booked a Mediterranian cruise for our Easter break on the very eve before the great cruise capsize story hit the news for another post... (sigh). 

Monumental

Sitting in the vulnerable position- under the hairdresser's color brush and foils - I told her how I was looking forward to the faculty Christmas party.
"Did you buy a dress?" Pantine asked as she worked her magic.
"I plan to go shopping this afternoon," I replied, "but I'm not exactly sure how to dress for this event. The theme for the evening is 'New York'."
"Oh right," she said. "That is a difficult one. Gosh. I mean what do they expect you to do after all? Go as the Eiffel Tower?"

Here comes Santa Claus(es)

As I plodded into the town center, I saw in the distance a gang of Santas all clad in their red and white jingle suits who, from that distance, looked like they were going to audition for a role in a small town production of Miracle on 34th Street. “Festive,” I thought and grinned alongside all of the other passersby. When I got closer I realized they were a bunch of jolly, middle aged British ladies who quite literally stopped traffic (intentionally) as they paraded into the heart of Weybridge. Their hats rested at precarious angles on their heads, their coats open, revealing an array of colored stripes, bulges, and belly. Paper number signs were ironically pinned on their backs as if they were about to run a marathon. One brandished a small paper towel roll – It’s a scepter. No! a wand. Now it’s a traffic baton!! – in the middle of Church Street on a Sunday, stopping traffic.


I crossed the street with them as they continued their merriment in whichever direction they were headed. For a brief, fleeting second I found courage to ask them what they were doing, and I even toyed with the idea of joining them or following them to their festival to take a journalistic peek at the very least. But then imagination is so much juicier than reality, innit. Plus, I am much less bold than they, and so into the coffee house I ducked to write about it.

So cozy here

So, it gets dark at 4:00pm here. That means the sun starts to set at 2:00, or so it seems. The sun is brighter right before it sets and emits a dream-like brightness, a quality amplified by the umber shadows.  Because of this my internal clock goes all cozy at around 3:00.

To complicate things, I usually leave work by 4:00 - after dark - and instead of rebounding (a small rest followed by either excercise or wine, depending on the day) like I did in Texas, I immediately get in my pajamas and lay on the cozy, beckoning couch. I may or may not make dinner opting for Chinese food instead and find myself too tired to play with Jack which means enduring hours of Scooby Doo with the occasional storm trooper battle until I drag myself to bed around 8:30.

This is unhealthy. I understand this, and yet..

I imagine that if I went outside for a walk (in the dark, cold outside), I might enjoy the Christmas lights. I might see other moms pushing prams, and I might, dear Lord, make a friend here. All of that sounds ludicrous, especially the dark, cold outside part.

SO I make this vow: In April, a new rowing class starts.. as in I will row a boat on the River Thames.  The class will kick my ass and my abs and my legs. The arm work out is a given.

I welcome the ass kicking.

Until then, it's Shaggy and Scooby accidentally solving mysteries with all the other meddling kids while I, in my winter hybernating state, store food in my belly (and in my thighs) , and justify my laziness by doing endless amounts of homework.

Momma loves Jack

New Holiday Songs

I love that NPR is nerdy and fun! Check this out (and pay special attention to Candelight. Super fun!)

Dear Wratch, Happy Birthday, baby. Thanks for going on this journey with me. I love you.. g

November 2011

November 2011, a set on Flickr.

A Good start to November!!

We went to the Anne of Cleves (as in named after Henry VIII's wife) for our first Guy Fawkes celebration. Technically there should've been a bonfire, but we opted for family carnival, bouncy houses, and fireworks instead. What a fun night in Weybridge!!!

What are you doing this week end?

It still sounds so bizarre to say, "Yeah, we're going into London tonight to meet friends. What are you doing this week end?" like it's no big deal. Technically for the folks who live here it would sound like Arlington folks saying, "Yeah, I'm going into Dallas for the evening". Going into the city for a night out is kind of cool because somehow hanging out with other urban-ites sounds sophisticated and cool. But it's a whole 'nother layer of cool for the urban atmosphere to be London. Because it's freakin' LONDON, people. And I live here now. Truth.