My very scary Halloween

Halloween.

You would think that dressing up as witches and princesses and trick-or-treating for candy would end at around.. umm...15. Well, at least that's what it did for me anyway.

I'm realising that this day is actually kind of important for most people. Why? Nothing religious or pagan or anything.. but I'm realising that a lot of people like celebrating it because their inner child comes out. Their hidden playmate. The excuse to be silly and dress up and wear black nail polish and let loose. It's a good way to spend the evening watching scary movies with your girlfriends or being silly with your guy friends and pretend that you're 10 again.

The day is less of a big deal over here in the UK than it is in America, but all the same, people get their outfits on. What was I? Well, for about 4 years running, I was a vampire. I have no idea why, I've just always loved vampires. I did the whole shebang: black satin cape with red lining, black trousers and black turtleneck, hair slicked back, face painted the requisite "undead white", and blood dripping down the corners of my mouth. And the fangs. OH the fangs. They looked cool for about 20 minutes, but after a while, I had to chuck them out, because I was drooling so much I might have been mistaken for someone who escaped the psycho ward.

I think I was a clown one year as well, complete with rainbow afro.

The last time I got dressed up was probably 5 years ago back in New York, for a friend's party. I think I dressed up like an 80s fashion victim. Yeah, I know, really original.



*note..this is NOT a real pic of me from the 80s- it's a program that I found online that lets you take a pic of yourself and insert it into a yearbook picture from the 50s. 60s, 70s, 80s or 90s. www.yearbookyourself.com


Today? Well, I had hoped that the mister and I could stay at home and watch scary movies, but he's out with his boys, and since every single one of my girlfriends here has kids, I'm short on company.

So tonight, it will probably end up being me, some wine, and a Sex and the City marathon. Now I think THAT is much scarier than a bunch of ghosts and goblins.

And hey, I can always dress up, but the neighbours might get a bit freaked out.

Getting close (possibly to the Apocalypse)

Whatever your political predilections are, everyone seems to have an opinion lately. This is the most highly charged presidential race I have ever seen, and it's really exciting to see the Facebook generation doing their part. As an American now living in London, I have an interesting perspective on all of this, and it's nice to view things from afar. But apologies in advance if I'm going to offend anyone, it's not my intention. These are just my personal thoughts and opinions, and I feel like I need to get some things off my chest.

As we watch this Shakespearean drama unfold, it concerns me more and more that this country doesn't seem to have any concept of moral responsibility. I don't understand why, when Obama talks about "redistributing wealth" so that the people on the bottom can benefit, people start freaking and calling him a socialist. Ummm... AND? Since when did socialism (i.e having a social consciousness about the plight of others in the same country you live in) become a bad thing? Wow, I didn't know we were back in the Reagan Red Scare years?

I am sick and tired of people electing officials because they tell them they're able to protect their wealth, they don't have to get taxed, and let them keep their gun. So every one's safe and sound in their little padded rooms and don't really care if a country goes to war on a lie. As long as they get to keep their gun. Those people end up not giving a shit about the people on the bottom rung of the ladder who can't afford health insurance and who have to live on food stamps. The might as well walk around wearing a t-shirt that says "Hey, I'm rich and you're not. You're not my problem." Fucking greedy that country is. And I know, because I was brainwashed into thinking that for a long time.

When the cops were assholes or the country went to war, or I had to pay through the nose for my health insurance and I still didn't get what I needed without paying extra, you know what I said?? "oh well. Welcome to America.." And finally, the mister had to slap some sense into me and say to me "Wake up. This is NOT ok to feel like this. NO one speaks up in this country".

And he's right. The country is so large, that people feel like they can't be heard. The country is too big to be run by one person. And for that one person to be a Republican cokehead hick that has a penchant for modern colonization? Even worse.

The US, as amazing as it is, if it doesn't change its habits, is going right in the shitter. It has GOT to get out of the grips of the neanderthal idiots who have a death-grip on their cash and their guns, and has to get back to civilization before greed destroys it completely. Wake up realise that there is a bigger world out there and that people need to help each other out rather than get their fat heads stuck inside their honeypots. Please share.

And here's a lovely epic missive from one of my favourite comedians.

A year. A year has gone by. WHAT?!?!!!

The mister and I have been here over a year now. Amazing, how the time disappears into some kind of void. I look back at all the chaos that's happened... I quit smoking. I joined a gym. We moved house (twice).We're about to move again. We bought a car. We bought a boat. I had a job. I lost a job. I partied heavily (not as a result of all this, just because so many people here do.). I bought too many shoes.

I think I've made my point. And yet, I still have so many stories ahead of me, so many that are developing, so many layers to these stories. So, to be brief, I'll just make a list.

Here are the things that I've observed along the way:

The British really, truly, cannot walk without crashing into people- I suspect that it's some of some kind of depth-perception disorder.

The food here is amazing- so much so, that due to a lack of additives and sugar in their food, I have successfully avoided sensitive teeth and cavities (which has always been a problem for me).

I've gotten used to the weather- and my complexion has gotten better as a result of not being fried by the sun. It also makes me appreciate sunny days much more. They're like gold dust.

The party scene is a bit too much for me, and I finally feel that it's not boring and nerdy to say that, and it's okay to go home at 11.

I live in a country with historic castles and 16th century churches right on my doorstep, and I've found the magic in that.

Figuring out roads and addresses wasn't that much harder than the NYC grid system.

Girls here start idealizing, at a young age: orange tan, pancake makeup and fake boobs. Though I'm sure the opposite sex wouldn't complain about the boobs.

The cobblestones, bumps in the pavement, ridges in the road are a nightmare for any heel height. Flats are necessary.

Scarves are a must. Actually, let me rephrase that: anything that is a light layer that you can take on or take off, as well as an umbrella and gloves, are MUSTS for this schizophrenic weather.

People take many more risks with fashion here, which makes it an amazing country to people-watch.

The GAP is fantastic over here for cheap, but well-cut and flattering styles. WAY different than in the US.

Having a car is almost a necessity- central London can feel really claustrophobic sometimes, and it's heaven to be able to escape to the country for the weekend.

Everything is expensive here, and it's easy to spend too much money.

Pubs are lovely, cozy little corners to hide in on a rainy evening, and no one pushes you out if you've been there for 4 hours.

A mews house is my dream to own someday. Like the real estate equivalent of a box of chocolates.

People tend to keep themselves in their own circle of friends- it's hard to be included, even if you're the spouse.

People work hard here, but they play even harder, in order to "de-stress" for killing themselves at work.

Men here are interesting to watch: they tend to "work" their politeness/shyness and know that it intrigues women if they're not too forward, which, as a result, makes them seem charming and a bit naughty. They know exactly what they're doing, even if they profess not to.

Women, on the other hand, are much more forward here, they tend to drink with the boys a lot more, and seem to flirt much more openly.

I've noticed that I stand out here: I'm tall, bony, I dress in stripes and leggings, hair in a ponytail, very tomboyish. And with the amount of estrogen that these women are throwing around, I actually like that I'm the nerdy girl on the outside looking in sometimes.

I miss my family so much, and the distance makes me take them for granted a lot less.

It DID take me over a full year to feel like I finally fit in and be my own, independent, self-confident self. And that's pretty great.

Wishes

I have a very lucky life, I have my health, I have people who love me, and I try to be a good person. That being said, I still have wishes for my future, for the world's future, for my family's future. And today is the day that I am taking a little liberty of releasing them into the universe.

I wish and hope...

That I always giggle like a 5-year old.
That I never take for granted the love notes that my mister leaves me under my pillow.
That I try and see the forest instead of the trees more.
That I get to see my children's children.
That kids stop knifing each other for no reason.
That Babchya gets to be a great grandmother someday.
That my parents-in-law finally get a well deserved break from their chaotic magazine duties.
That people wake up and realise that they need to get involved in the fate of their country and VOTE.
That our children's children still have a semblance of a natural world to exist in.
That I always make time to play rock music and dance around in my underwear whilst singing into my hairbrush.
That I learn to forgive myself more.
That I keep reminding myself that it's okay to make mistakes.
That I make time for lunch.
That learn to slow down and take in every day magic.
That all the people in my life know how very much I love them.
That I'm always thankful for my beautiful life, my amazing husband and my delicious family. They are the presents that I get to have every day.

Philosophical perspectives (aided by Dutch beer)

We're back from a lovely holiday on our sailboat.

Yes, you read that right. Our sailboat.

You see, in the process of all of this job change, financial stress and chaotic move-or-not to move worry, we were also in the process of buying our first boat. It's been in the works for quite a while, as we're both avid sailors, but it was just put into place the day we left for Holland, which is where she's berthed.

So our two weeks of constant bliss consisted of: water, boat, beer, sunshine, listening to the radio and playing fierce games of Backgammon. I cannot begin to explain how your perspectives change when you don't have a computer to sit in front of, no Blackberry to sprain your thumbs on, no phones to answer. All I did was listen to the sails flap in the wind. Listen to my footsteps on the pontoon at night when I walked into the marina for a hot shower. All I brought with me was a pair of jeans that I wore almost every day, some t-shirts, and a backpack. The mister and I found ourselves laughing a lot more, taking more pictures, having more discussions.

But it was all lumped in the same head space, which was: life gives you such a giant test sometimes, and you have to dig really deep to find some head space to deal with it. To find that one thread that keeps you hanging on. And that it's all too short of a ride to kill yourself to make it perfect.

I still don't have a job yet, the market over here in the UK isn't great either (i cannot imagine how chaotic life in the US must be right now, it's so upsetting). But I know I'd make myself crazy worrying about it. I'll start sending writing samples to some magazines, maybe all this down time is telling me that I need to rethink my strategy. We'll see.

It's also my birthday this Thursday, a day older. I have to say, I still feel like a little girl that wants her presents and flowers and cake and party sometimes, but I'm realising that I have to do that for myself now, I can't expect that at 30-something it still is that big of a deal to everyone else (otherwise Chuck E. Cheese would have an adults menu). The mister is away on business that day, and all my girlfriends have kids, so I might celebrate by getting my nails done and treating myself to afternoon tea.

One step at a time.

See? You got me talking and now I can't stop...

Today we have sun, and I see that as a very good omen. Though I am quick to complain about the weather here, since we've only seen a week of 80 degree weather and sunshine (the rest was rain and about 65 degrees), I am hoping that we may get a late hint of summer.

I am also excited because in 3 days, we are finally going on a much-needed holiday away from the city, away from people, and away from the chaos. A sanity-check, if you will. We haven't been able to sleep much, and our brains have been preoccupied with work, with finances, with "life admin".

I went to see a group of friends last night for a drink and came home at 10pm, so exhausted that I practically fell into bed after a quick kiss "hello" to the mister. He's travelling for business today, and though it's only for the day, I actually feel how far apart we are. I feel the rush of the hours flying by. And when I feel like that, I ache for a kiss and a cuddle. That's the little girl in me. When things feel overwhelming, sometimes instead of dealing with it head-on, I prefer to languish in the warmth and reassurance of a hug or a hand to hold, and want to have us disappear from reality and just be with eachother. It really is, I believe, the best feeling in the entire world. Selfish and unrealistic at times, maybe, but still really delicious.

In other news, we went to a wedding this past weekend on the coast of England, and the mister and I took the opportunity to explore a bit and take a cliff walk and see quaint little stone villages. It was stunning, seeing the cliffs and their layers of prehistoric rock, walking along land that has been there for millions of years. Granted, the height that we were at is not for the faint-hearted, but it makes you feel so absolutely humble and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. So in the interest of history and fun trivia, I'll give you all some fun facts about London (I've been reading this book called The London Companion, and it's SO interesting!)

--What is “Big Ben”? Most people have an impression that it’s the name of the world famous clock, or perhaps the tower that houses it. Not true! The name actually refers to the 13 ton bell, while the tower is known as St. Stephen’s Tower.

--The Queen’s official residence, Buckingham Palace, was built in 1702… on the site of a notorious brothel.

--Her Majesty the Queen is not allowed to go into the House of Commons because she is not a commoner.

--A boy throwing a match into hay inside a bakery started the Great London Fire in 1666.

--During the time of the Roman Invasion, London was known as Londinium. In Saxon times, it was known as Lundenwic and during the kingdom of Alfred the Great, its name was changed to Lundenburg.

--Harrods department store in London still delivers goods by horse and carriage.

These pics below give new meaning to the words Rock On...

Rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated...

Yeah, ok. My brain went on strike, as did my fingers. I've had a rough August, and I needed to disappear for a while and figure some things out. These aren't life and death problems, so apologies to anyone if I sound like I'm complaining. I'm not. I'm just sharing.

I lost my job.

The job that I loved, that I worked 12 hours a day for, the job where I finally felt like I had settled into this city and developed a much-needed emotional rhythm.

It was quite sudden, very condescending in the way it was done, and extremely hurtful. Most of the people that worked with me were shocked, but they intimated that this person that I had worked for had done this countless times before. Either way, I was out on my arse in a very ungraceful way. And to be honest, I felt lost.

I realised that some of my UK identity was helped by having a creative job, something that I loved. I liked working long hours to see a job completed in the best way possible. I liked meeting people in the UK creative industries. And the rug was pulled out from under me.

I went through a range of emotions: sad, angry, confused, feeling useless. Negativity about the weather, about the building we lived in.. And the FEAR was palpable. The fear that I wouldn't find a job for a while and we wouldn't have enough money, that I was getting older and I couldn't have children without a job with a good maternity plan, that I would be seen as incapable of holding down a job. I became envious of the mister's female colleagues that have super-powerful jobs, and I felt like the insecure little apron-clad wife. But I got angry at myself and through that I created strength. I had to pull myself up. I had to listen to a voice with a positive focus:

Snap out of it. You're not doing yourself or anyone else any good by beating yourself up. This happened for a reason. Wasn't meant to be yours. Take advantage of this time to see London, since you don't have that time very often. Take time to rest.

I started doing that. Doing silly touristy/artsy things and disappearing into crowds, into parks with a notebook, making myself familiar with certain streets. I started literally getting off trains and making myself lost, in order to test myself on how to find my way again.

The mister was amazing through this, encouraging me to relax, to get facials, to sit in the sun and read (well, we only had a week of sun this whole summer, so that was a bit difficult), to take time for "me".

I have been. I'm trying. I'm still getting there. I have at once been thrilled and happy to be doing project work for different agencies, and at the same time been covered by a little black cloud of frustration and loneliness.

It's hard sometimes, this life thing. But I have to make sure to remind myself that we're never given more than we can handle, so we'll always figure it out.

Oh, and I turn another year older in 3 weeks. Maybe that's freaking me out? Ugh. I'm SUCH a neurotic girl.